1
A new start
‘Mr Duncan?
Come in please.
Mr Wilsonwill see you now.’
‘Thank you.’
John Duncan stood up andwalked nervously towards the door.
Hewas a tall, thin man, about forty-five yearsold, in an old grey suit.
It was his best suit,but it was ten years old now.
He had greyhair and glasses.
His face looked sad andtired.
Inside the room, a man stood up towelcome him.
‘Mr Duncan?
Pleased tomeet you.
My name’s David Wilson.
This isone of our chemists, Mary Carter.’
John Duncan shook hands with both ofthem, and sat down.
It was a big office,with a thick carpet on the floor andbeautiful pictures on the walls.
DavidWilson was a young man, in an expensiveblack suit.
He had a big gold ring on onefinger.
He smiled at John.
‘I asked Miss Carter to come because she’sone of our best chemists.
She discoveredour wonderful new paint, in fact.
When …Imean, if you come to work here, you willwork with her.’
‘Oh I see.’
John looked at Mary.
She wasolder than Wilson- about thirty-five,perhaps- with short brown hair, and apretty, friendly face.
She was wearing awhite coat with a lot of pens in the toppocket.
She smiled at him kindly, but Johnfelt miserable.
I’ll never get this job, he thought.
I’m tooold!
Employers want younger people thesedays.
David Wilson was looking at some papers.
‘Now, Mr Duncan,’ he said, ‘I see that youare a very good biologist.
You worked at auniversity… and then for two very famouscompanies.
But you stopped working as abiologist nine years ago.
Why was that?’
‘I’ve always had two interests in life,’ Johnsaid, ‘biology and boats.
My wife was afamous sailor… Rachel Horsley…Perhapsyou remember her.
She sailed around theworld alone in a small boat.’
‘Yes,’ said David Wilson, ‘I remember her.’
‘So we started a business,’ said John.
‘Wemade small boats together, and soldthem.’
‘And did the business go well?’
askedWilson.
‘Very well at first.
Then we wanted to buildbigger, better boats.
We borrowed toomuch money.
And then my wife…’ Johnstopped speaking.
‘Yes, the Sevens Race.
I remember now,’said David Wilson.
Both men were silent for a moment.
Wilson remembered the newspaperreports of the storm and the lives lost atsea.
He looked at the man who sat sadly infront of him.
‘So after my wife died,’ continued John, ‘Iclosed the business.
That was five yearsago.’
‘I see,’ said David Wilson.
‘It’s a hard world,the world of business.’
He looked at John’sold grey suit.
‘So now you want a job as abiologist.
Well, this is a chemical company,Mr Duncan.
We make paint.
But we need abiologist to make sure that everything inthis factory is safe.
We want someone totell the government that it’s safe to workhere, and that it’s safe to have a paintfactory near the town.
That’s important tous.’
‘And if something’s not safe, then ofcourse we’ll change it,’ Mary Carter said.
David Wilson looked at her, but he didn’tsay anything.
‘Yes, I see,’ John began nervously.
‘Well, Ithink I could do that.
I mean.
When Iworked for Harper Chemicals in LondonI…’ He talked for two or three minutesabout his work.
David Wilson listened, buthe didn’t say anything.
Then he smiled.
Itwas a cold, hard smile, and it made Johnfeel uncomfortable.
He remembered hisold suit and grey hair, and he wished hehadn’t come.
