The Faculty by John Dale

The Faculty by John Dale

Author:John Dale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brio Books
Published: 2022-05-03T00:00:00+00:00


19

A Little Conversation

Sarah ran into Beetrice emerging from the women’s toilets with a black eye. ‘What happened to you?’

‘Training accident.’ Beetrice removed her glasses. ‘What’s the book?’

Sarah showed her the memoir. ‘Professor Bailey gave it to me. You know he’s leaving?’

Beetrice did know. In fact, she had heard from a very reliable source that Professor Bailey had stormed into the Vice-Chancellor’s office the other day and complained about the new Dean and the direction she was taking the faculty. He gave the VC an ultimatum: either that Crow woman goes or he would resign. ‘And guess what?’

‘They chose her over the most distinguished scholar in Humanities.’

‘She’s saving them a lot of money,’ Beetrice said. ‘She probably gets a bonus for every old professor who resigns. Did you read the VC’s newsletter? We are facing a $400 million budget shortfall. The university has frozen travel costs, cancelled recruitment and postponed all capital expenditure.’

‘So why are they digging up the tennis courts? How does that save us money?’

‘How would I know?’

Was it a coincidence that Professor Mrzowski had chosen this morning to bail her up in the corridor? Did it have any connection with Bailey leaving? If they were getting rid of professors what hope did she have?

They stopped outside her office door. She turned to compliment Beetrice on her new flower-patterned dress. ‘Can I ask you something?’ she said. ‘You’re Chinese—’

‘How did you know?’ Beetrice said. ‘Was it my hair or the glasses? Actually, I’m Australian.’

She checked the corridor was empty then lowered her voice. ‘It’s my Thursday-night class.’

‘The one with all the lawyers and accountants?’

‘No, that was my Tuesday-night class. This is my Thursday-night class. Does it sound racist to you if I say there are too many Chinese students in my Thursday-night class?’

‘Yes,’ Beetrice said. ‘It does actually.’

‘Well, I’m sorry, Beetrice, but there are too many Chinese students in my Thursday-night class.’

‘How many Chinese students do you have?’

‘Eighteen out of thirty-one.’

‘Deb Whitmont has thirty-nine out of forty-two enrolled in her Real Estate and Property Investment subject.’

‘That’s rather a lot,’ Sarah said. ‘Two or three students in my class don’t understand a word I say.’

‘They need six point five in IELTS to enrol in a university degree.’

‘Supposedly, yes, but this isn’t Engineering or IT. This is Memoir. Students need to have a sophisticated command of the English language to understand the subtleties, the innuendoes, the double-entendres.’

‘Are there many double-entendres in memoir writing?’

‘Deidre Wilson’s The Passionate Builder is full of them. Everything she writes is sexually loaded: his bag of tools, his screw-driver, his hammer and nails, his drill bit . . .’

‘I see.’

‘I mean I like the students and they like me too — I think. It’s just that sometimes they don’t get what I’m saying, and oh my god, their writing . . . I have one student who can’t write a complete sentence, he can barely speak. What am I supposed to do with him?’

‘Nothing,’ Beetrice said.

‘I’ll probably have to fail half the class.’

‘You can’t do that,’ Beetrice said.



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