A Subtle Flame

Part 12

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 Cressida knocked twice on Christian's door and then walked in without waiting for a reply.  Christian was interrupted in mid-flow, and looked up at Cressida with an irritated frown.  Half a dozen young faces swivelled in her direction.

             "Cressida," Christian snapped, "we're in the middle of a seminar."  He indicated the students sat around a table littered with papers.  "Leave it in my pigeon-hole."

             "I want a word."  Cressida's voice was ominously quiet.  If Marianne had heard it, she would have realized that Cressida was about to explode.  Christian, however, was naively unprepared.

             "Later," Christian scowled and tried to dismiss her with a shake of his head.  "Now, as I was saying before we were interrupted ..."

             "We are going to have this out now, Christian, and I don't care whether we have an audience or not.  But I suggest that you leave anyway."  The last statement was directed at the gaping students, who immediately began to pack their things up.  They could recognise a woman at the end of her tether, even if Christian could not.

             "This is ridiculous," Christian grumbled, but his exasperated glare at Cressida failed to make her blush or look away.  No doubt some silly female crisis, he sighed to himself.  Maybe she's found out that she's pregnant and is in a panic because Davis won't help her.  And now she wants me to comfort her.  Silly girl.

             Cressida waited while the students hurriedly left, her back straight and her arms crossed.  She noticed the sneering curl on Christian's lips and guessed at his contemptuous thoughts.  He probably thinks it's PMT, she thought.  Soon he's going to wish it was.

             As soon as the door closed, Christian leaned back in his leather chair and linked his hands behind his head.  "Now what's all this about, my dear?" Christian asked as if he was talking to a bawling three-year-old.

             "Don't patronize me, you arrogant, condescending toad."  Her voice was calm, but her eyes blazed in anger.  It was the same withering glare that had earned her the epithet 'the harpy' in the north block of Gladstone Hall.  "I am not 'your dear' or your personal assistant and certainly not your dogsbody.  And if you don't start treating me with respect and consideration I won't even be your student.  I will demand to be transferred to another tutor."

             "Cressida?  What is this?" Christian stammered in confusion.  "What are you so upset about?  If you're distressed about this scandal with Davis, then don't worry, calm down!  The whole thing will blow over in a few months time.  I'll make sure it doesn't get mentioned on your record, and it shouldn't affect your chances of getting a post as a lecturer once you have finished your thesis."

             "This has nothing to do with Davis.  This is about you.  The way you never get round to reading my research until I have reminded you half a dozen times, the way you have dumped all your work for Antiquus on me and I have never received any credit for it, and most of all, the way you treat me as the butt of your jokes, someone you can kick to make yourself feel better."

             "Cressida!  How dare you!" Christian gasped, his eyes wide.  "How dare you speak to your tutor like that!  Is this the thanks I get for -"

             "For what?"  Cressida gave a bitter laugh.  "For belittling me and stamping on my self-esteem?  Enough is enough, Christian.  If you don't start treating me like an adult then I warn you, I will demand to be assigned to another tutor."