help her mood. She refilled her wine glass and then gathering together her pashmina and purse, dragged her carry-on suitcase into the business area of the lounge and went into a cubby where she sat down and pulled out some of the papers the students had given her the day before.
The college visit had been exhilarating. Rebecca had escorted India around brick-walled, open-plan studios to workstations with draped mannequins and cutting tables spilling over with fabric. India had marveled at the standard of the illustrations displayed on the oversized pin boards and at the precision of the technical drawings laid out on drafting machines. The students barely broke their fierce concentration until Rebecca approached them directly, at which point they jumped up to share whatever they were creating, explaining their process with infectious enthusiasm, even at one point letting India try out a state-of-the-art sewing machine.
India had toured the art department and seen handbags being fashioned from papier-mache and learned how eco-friendly canvas could be woven into biodegradable dresses. What really blew her mind were the scarf designs that had been innovated from the genetic printout of DNA macromolecules.
By the end of that day, the shows were no longer an abstraction to her. She had the visuals and was deeply impressed. She’d also warmed to Rebecca who’d been at pains to explain everything in detail and spoken to her in plain English. She was clearly idolized and respected by her students.
India opened one of the portfolios:
The illustrator produces unique images offering an original red and indigo creation, making a break away from her usual monochrome world. The audience will be delighted to find the designer’s complex motifs bursting in a panoply of color. This collaboration between the biotechnology laboratory and the design department will create a unique evening dress printed with original designs conceived by Julie Levine, Year 3.
The idea of scientists of molecular and synthetic biology working with design students was intriguing. Even though India was unsure what synthetic biology was, she was certain it must be fascinating. She had much to learn. She turned page after page for a while, so engrossed that she barely registered the loudspeaker announcement.
“Passenger India Butler please make your way to Gate Two-K immediately. This gate will be closing in five minutes. Repeat. Passenger India Butler…”
“That’s ME! I’m India Butler!” she yelped, scrambling to collect her things, dashing through the terminal building and careening down a ramp where she was escorted onto the plane by a highly irritated flight attendant who yanked the cabin doors closed behind her. Left struggling to cram her case and bags of Duty Free into the overhead locker, India finally managed to slam the bin shut, before collapsing into her seat. A few seconds later, she saw Henry sitting across from her, an expression of high amusement on his face.
What on earth is he doing here? she thought. He’s supposed to be coming back tomorrow.
India brushed a damp strand of hair and a bead of sweat from her cheek and attempted a smile. In that moment she desperately wanted to press rewind – to have been there ahead of him, flicking through a copy of Vanity Fair , her hair in a smooth chignon, a Pucci scarf around her neck, a glass of sparkling wine in hand.
There would be no escaping him. The cramped love-seat arrangement of the seats meant he was going to be diagonally across from her for the next seven hours. India wasn’t entirely sure why this was bothering her so much.
“Hello, Miss Butler.” He grinned.
“Hello, Mr. Cowan,” she answered, snapping shut her seatbelt and gripping the armrest as the plane taxied down the runway. She could sense Henry looking at her as she stared fixedly out of the window.
“I didn’t know you were scared of flying.” He laughed shortly after takeoff.
“I’m not,” she said,
The college visit had been exhilarating. Rebecca had escorted India around brick-walled, open-plan studios to workstations with draped mannequins and cutting tables spilling over with fabric. India had marveled at the standard of the illustrations displayed on the oversized pin boards and at the precision of the technical drawings laid out on drafting machines. The students barely broke their fierce concentration until Rebecca approached them directly, at which point they jumped up to share whatever they were creating, explaining their process with infectious enthusiasm, even at one point letting India try out a state-of-the-art sewing machine.
India had toured the art department and seen handbags being fashioned from papier-mache and learned how eco-friendly canvas could be woven into biodegradable dresses. What really blew her mind were the scarf designs that had been innovated from the genetic printout of DNA macromolecules.
By the end of that day, the shows were no longer an abstraction to her. She had the visuals and was deeply impressed. She’d also warmed to Rebecca who’d been at pains to explain everything in detail and spoken to her in plain English. She was clearly idolized and respected by her students.
India opened one of the portfolios:
The illustrator produces unique images offering an original red and indigo creation, making a break away from her usual monochrome world. The audience will be delighted to find the designer’s complex motifs bursting in a panoply of color. This collaboration between the biotechnology laboratory and the design department will create a unique evening dress printed with original designs conceived by Julie Levine, Year 3.
The idea of scientists of molecular and synthetic biology working with design students was intriguing. Even though India was unsure what synthetic biology was, she was certain it must be fascinating. She had much to learn. She turned page after page for a while, so engrossed that she barely registered the loudspeaker announcement.
“Passenger India Butler please make your way to Gate Two-K immediately. This gate will be closing in five minutes. Repeat. Passenger India Butler…”
“That’s ME! I’m India Butler!” she yelped, scrambling to collect her things, dashing through the terminal building and careening down a ramp where she was escorted onto the plane by a highly irritated flight attendant who yanked the cabin doors closed behind her. Left struggling to cram her case and bags of Duty Free into the overhead locker, India finally managed to slam the bin shut, before collapsing into her seat. A few seconds later, she saw Henry sitting across from her, an expression of high amusement on his face.
What on earth is he doing here? she thought. He’s supposed to be coming back tomorrow.
India brushed a damp strand of hair and a bead of sweat from her cheek and attempted a smile. In that moment she desperately wanted to press rewind – to have been there ahead of him, flicking through a copy of Vanity Fair , her hair in a smooth chignon, a Pucci scarf around her neck, a glass of sparkling wine in hand.
There would be no escaping him. The cramped love-seat arrangement of the seats meant he was going to be diagonally across from her for the next seven hours. India wasn’t entirely sure why this was bothering her so much.
“Hello, Miss Butler.” He grinned.
“Hello, Mr. Cowan,” she answered, snapping shut her seatbelt and gripping the armrest as the plane taxied down the runway. She could sense Henry looking at her as she stared fixedly out of the window.
“I didn’t know you were scared of flying.” He laughed shortly after takeoff.
“I’m not,” she said,
Similar Books
