The Rosie Project (Don Tillman #1)

by Graeme Simsion

Why do people value others’ time so little?

‘Fault! Asperger’s isn’t a fault. It’s a variant. It’s potentially a major advantage. Asperger’s syndrome is associated with organisation, focus, innovative thinking and rational detachment.’

While the lobster died, Rosie continued her sniffing around.

‘You’ve created a new time zone. Dinner will be ready at 8.55 p.m. – Rosie time.’

‘Time has been redefined. Previous rules no longer apply. Alcohol is hereby declared mandatory in the Rosie Time Zone.’

‘Just a friend,’ said Rosie. If she knew how many friends I had, she might have realised what a great compliment she had paid me.

‘It’s not illegal to take DNA samples,’ I shouted back. This was true, although in the UK we would have been in violation of the Human Tissue Act of 2004. ‘We should go back.’

‘Difficulties are inevitable,’ I said. ‘Major projects require persistence.’

Why do we focus on certain things at the expense of others? We will risk our lives to save a person from drowning, yet not make a donation that could save dozens of children from starvation. We install solar panels when their impact on CO2 emissions is minimal – and indeed may have a net negative effect if manufacturing and installation are taken into account – rather than contributing to more efficient infrastructure projects.

Of course. But why, why, why can’t people just say what they mean?

Warning! Danger, Will Robinson. Unidentified alien approaching! I could feel myself slipping into the emotional abyss. I managed to stay calm enough to respond.

Gene told me the next day that I got it wrong. But he was not in a taxi, after an evening of total sensory overload, with the most beautiful woman in the world. I believed I did well. I detected the trick question. I wanted Rosie to like me, and I remembered her passionate statement about men treating women as objects. She was testing to see if I saw her as an object or as a person. Obviously the correct answer was the latter. ‘I haven’t really noticed,’ I told the most beautiful woman in the world.

I pulled out my handkerchief and wiped away the tears. She closed her eyes again. But fate had delivered me my sample.

All it needed was for her to turn on the overhead light for the scenario of interrogation to be complete. I was a prisoner, so I negotiated – and made escape plans.

I now believe that virtually all my problems could be attributed to my brain being configured differently from those of the majority of humans. All the psychiatric symptoms were a result of this, not of any underlying disease. Of course I was depressed: I lacked friends, sex and a social life, due to being incompatible with other people.

I had made a successful, deliberate joke that was not related to exhibiting some quirk in my personality. A memorable moment.

‘I know the answer to your question. But I made a promise that I would not reveal it. If I thought it was a matter of life or death, or a serious mental health issue, I would reconsider. But I see no reason to break the promise, which was made because the people involved had thought hard about what would be right.

I could have argued that her wanting to do something for me meant she was ultimately acting in her own interests, but it might provoke more of the ‘don’t fuck with me’ behaviour.

Then, in this vanishingly small moment in the history of the universe, she took my hand, and held it all the way to the subway.

And it dawned on me that I had not designed the questionnaire to find a woman I could accept, but to find someone who might accept me.

‘If you really love someone,’ Claudia continued, ‘you have to be prepared to accept them as they are. Maybe you hope that one day they get a wake-up call and make the changes for their own reasons.’

Rosie had a facial expression that she used when she said, ‘Don’t fuck with me.’ I tried the expression. It seemed to work by itself.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Try to hurt me.’ He asked for it. ‘Your stepdaughter is trying to locate her real father because she’s dissatisfied with you.’

I had been living in the world of romantic comedy and this was the final scene.

This is the Don I’ve grown to know and love.’ The last word stopped me. I could only look at Rosie as I took in the reality of what she had said. I guessed she was doing the same, and it was several seconds before she spoke.