Nothing was more urgent now, though, than Sant’s date with Mia.
* * *
It was almost ten pm. That made him ninety minutes late for his dinner date. He phoned to apologise but, to his surprise, Mia didn’t seem put out at all.
‘I’ve been working on your behalf, Carl,’ she said, ‘crunching the microfiche. How about you meet me in the library again, same place as before, and don’t get lost in the storeroom this time.’ Her laughter trailed off as the line went dead.
Sant felt relief at her lenience with him. Time management had never been his strength. And he needed Mia to cut him some extra slack right now, for before joining her at the microfiche readers he felt the urge to log into a workstation in a quiet corner of the library – far away from snooping professors – using Chloe’s username
