Geoscience Reference
In-Depth Information
Also, much to his surprise, Paul began to share his life with a woman he had known for years.
He had first met her in the sixties at the home of his mentor at the Survey, a geologist called John
McGlynn and his wife, Lillian. Erica Westbrook was a friend of the McGlynn family. She was often
at the house when Paul visited. He hadn't particularly noticed her back then, nor she him: she was a
scornful teenager when Paul was a driven young college student.
But things were different in 1976, when Erica offered to sublet his house in Ottawa for the summer
while he was away in the field. Paul had just turned thirty-five. He had never even had a girlfriend.
His lifestyle wouldn't allow it. He spent too much time out in the field, and when he wasn't in the far
north, he lived for running, and music. He was, he had always felt, too self-focused to have time and
attention for a family. Erica was tall, an inch or so taller than Paul himself. She had long, thick, black
hair, a generous smile, and a habit of casting amused sideways glances. This time around, she found
Paul intriguing. She laid a bet with a girlfriend about which of them would succeed in seducing Paul.
Erica won.
Still, Paul didn't particularly see a future in the relationship. His attention remained focused en-
tirely on geology in the North. Erica's response was drastic. She took a plane to Yellowknife and spent
a long, fraught week in the Northwest Territories, in Paul's field site, in Paul's home turf. That was
the only place she felt she could count on his attention. She spent the week arguing passionately. She
wanted the relationship. She wanted Paul. Once again, she won.
It was never going to be easy. Erica was sociable and warm. She went on to work as a palliative
care nurse. She was a people person. Paul was utterly focused on his work. Once, Erica's resolve
nearly cracked. There had been a snowstorm in Ottawa and the garage roof had fallen on top of Paul's
car. Paul's precious car. A shiny red Lotus Elan that he had bought to compensate himself when an in-
jury left him temporarily unable to run. When Erica saw the roof and the car that morning, she realized
something that drove her crazy. Paul had already left to go to the Survey. He must have walked past
the garage. He must have noticed the roof. He had done nothing about it. The Lotus was
his car
, but
yet again he had left everything to her. He hadn't even mentioned it. Erica raced back into the house
and dialled her mother-in-law's phone number.
Dorothy Medhurst, Paul's mother, has always been a formidable woman. Paul describes her as a
whirlwind. Everyone else describes her with very healthy respect, bordering on awe. She is tall and
strong and passionate. She is an artist. She is uncompromising. At eighty-eight, she now lives alone
in an isolated cabin thirty miles from Toronto. The cabin has no electricity, no telephone, and no run-
ning water. Dorothy prefers living that way. All of her children were raised to think for themselves,
to embark on projects, to stay outdoors, not to be home until the streetlights were coming on. When
Paul cried as a baby, Dorothy would put him in his crib out under the tree. “If you're going to cry,” she
told him, “go cry to the mosquitoes.” Paul can still trace the pattern of those branches in his head. The
home Paul grew up in was not a cuddly, touchy-feely one. There were no soft furnishings. The wooden
floors were decorated with field lines for ball games. The walls were festooned with paintings. Paul
called his parents by their first names. You judged people not by their blood connections but by their
talents, and how they used them.
Even as an adult, Erica was rather afraid of Dorothy. But still, on that snowy day in Ottawa, she
dialled the number and blurted out her frustrations. Dorothy listened thoughtfully. When Erica had
finished, this is what she said: “I agree. It's not normal behavior. But you have to decide now if you're
prepared to put up with it. Because it's not going to change.” This was excellent advice. Erica knew
immediately that Dorothy was right. Paul wasn't going to change. She had known from the beginning
that he was focused and obsessive and intense. That was his strength as well as his weakness. It was
