Chapter 2

As was often the case with Andrew’s life, busy periods where there was a lot happening were followed by calmer times. Other than hockey the following two weeks were exactly that. The course forced him into this, the usual ferocious pace left little time for worrying about other things. He and Olivia studied hard including a full day on the Sunday between the two weeks. The OTC selection was a mundane necessity that proved Andrew was still fit.

The Scholarship Ceremony was much less of a mystery the second time through and he spent more time looking around at the visitors, the guests, to see who was there. There were a few families that had come to attend and he again wondered about his Grandma, and whether there was any way he could get her there. But it was a long way to come for two hours. But these thoughts kept him distracted from an otherwise long, tedious ceremony. The other thing that was noticeable was that he clearly hung out with the nerds, not that there was a shortage of them at Trinity. He was still the only Senior Scholar of his friends but nearly everyone else that Andrew was close with had been awarded a First for their 2^nd year. It cut down on the shit he took, well a little. As always, the first thing anyone said was about the bloody room ballot. Andrew tried not to be too superior as it did cross his mind as well. The ceremony was part of the history of Trinity College and he was a small part. The only other thing different in these first two weeks of term was the hockey.

There were forms to complete and his coaching certificates were checked, standard stuff. The physical certificates were in the flat in Edinburgh but the Sports Union had phoned Scottish Hockey and got confirmation. So at 6.45 on the first Wednesday he was standing at the side of one of the hockey pitches wondering why he was doing this. Andrew understood the feeling of a karmic weight lifting, often a weight he didn’t know was there. But he was feeling none of that. This wasn’t helping others like the Art College students 18 months earlier, it was thinking of others but it was tenuous. He was not sure he would have agreed if it had not been Navya that asked. That had been very clever, playing on his friendship with her. The impact on Saturday mornings was not going to be an issue for him, the matches were normally 9.00 until 10.15, it didn’t change much. The impact on Wednesday evenings was what he had been concerned about. But if he couldn’t cope studying 50 hours a week, then why did he think that 52 hours would be the difference. It gave him perspective and balance, something that Andrew constantly needed to stop backsliding into perpetual studying. So there were all the rationalisations.

And the thing was by the end of the two hours he was having fun. Andrew enjoyed coaching and 31 months after the last time he had coached all that fun came roaring back. What was also funny was it was like the second year he coached at school, lots of younger pupils. As the gender balance at Trinity continued to regularise this meant there were more Freshers than anyone else. Andrew was an insular person, friendly to people but not friends with many beyond the dozen or so that he saw regularly. It was good for him to have to exert himself socially. There were several young women that he recognised from the interviews the previous December. There were 16 players at training and before everyone warmed up he had an introductory chat. But once the bio part of the chat was dealt with he focused on what they were going to do.

“Everybody plays, I rotate my subs regularly. But I also know that there are two different groups of players here. Those that wanted to make the first eleven and are disappointed that they did not and are looking for more intense coaching in the hopes of improving and making that team. And then there are the players who are happy to be play, use this as relaxation and don’t want that level of commitment. We have two hours of training. The first hour is all of us together, team play, tactics, penalty corner routines, breakouts, all the standard drills. In the second hour I will work with the players that want more coaching. The other players will do 20 minutes of dribbling drills, 20 minutes of tackling practice and then a warm down. Questions?”

Predictable silence.

“Okay, everyone go and warm up, a couple of laps gentle pace and then we will get started. Anyone who wants the extra coaching can let me know at any point during the session.”

And so it started. There were four of the 16 that wanted to be pushed hard but the separate training never happened. Andrew just worked them harder during the two hours, made them tackle him, had them taking extra turns during some of the drills. Any initial resentment from the other players quickly gave way to gratitude for having an extra 20 seconds of rest. He made it fun but worked them hard. Afterwards there were a lot of tired women but for the most part they seemed happy. Navya, who had never said a word during the training, came up to him at the end.

“What was your team’s record the last time you coached?”

Andrew looked at her suspiciously.

“22-2 I think.”

“Well that makes sense. Andrew, we all had fun out there but bloody hell you worked us hard. Are you always like that?”

“Er. I thought I took it easy on you, it was just the first night.”

It was not just Navya that groaned. Several of the other players did as well.

“Was it too intense?”

“I don’t know that intense is the right word but it was relentless. If nothing else we are going to be the fittest team that’s for sure.”

Andrew didn’t know what to say to that. He really did think he was taking it easy with them. Oh well, he was sure he would hear about it from Navya. They all split apart as people peeled off to Burrell’s and then to their stairs at the different Courts. Navya did talk to him over breakfast both that week and the week after. Most of the players were more surprised than unhappy and Andrew tweaked the intensity of the training as he took their measure. What helped was the hopelessness of Homerton who they played that first Saturday. Getting an easy win and having some of the things that they practiced succeed quelled any last doubts. After their second game, also a victory this time over Kings, it was time for the first trip to London. Pedro and Justin were, if anything, more excited than Andrew was about the trip. They had lunch at College and then walked out to Cherry Hinton to get the car.

“Bloody hell it is worse than Girton.”

“Yeah, but it is safe and cheap. It will be worse at 2.30 in the morning or whenever we get back.”

The three of them hung out more and more. Pedro and Justin trolled the College Bar and clubs acting as each other’s wingman. Andrew knew he was fundamentally lazy and could not be bothered with the chase. Instead he and Merry had settled into a rhythm that worked. He had lots of unresolved and very confused feelings for Suzanne and Ara, as well as ongoing flirtations and more with Heloise, Chiara, Renee, possibly even Lilja. Shit, when he thought about it he really was a complete slut. He and Merry were in the same place and it simplified his life. She was studying just as hard as he was, the emotional quotient was dialled right back and they satisfied their physical needs. That sounded very antiseptic but their time in bed was anything but. They were both happy and satisfied with the other and saw no need to chase anyone else. Once again, Andrew was monogamous at College.

But his two friends enjoyed the chase as much as the result. There was nothing they liked better than to chat up a woman over the course of a night or a week or however long it lasted before finally hooking up with her. It just seemed such a waste of time and effort. In previous years Andrew exhibited a lot of those behaviours without ever making much of an effort to close the deal. You just had to look at two years at Cindies to know that. Now Merry would be waiting after hockey practice on a Wednesday evening and they would just head off to his room. Which also was a very effective way of dealing with Fresher flirtations from members of the team.

Andrew saw Pedro and Justin do the same thing as usual that night. They were out for the night in London, they were driving back to Cambridge after midnight and the car had no room for anyone else. But did that stop the two of them trying to pick up women? Andrew just could not be bothered. He saw Olivia for hours every day, he saw Navya at breakfast most mornings and was back to waking Helena upon his return to Trinity. There were all the women from hockey, never mind everything happening outside College. He just could not be bothered. Five weeks like before Cyprus might have changed his effort level but that term he watched, laughed at and occasionally rescued his friends.

Oh, and they saw a band. The Marquee Club was their favourite venue, not always but most nights that was where they ended up. Just like the Nite Club from his school days in Edinburgh it was hit and miss. More hit than miss but there were some dodgy nights. But from that first Black Sabbath gig all the way back when Andrew was still 14 he absolutely loved live music. The energy, the visuals, the aural overload, the sweating, heaving mass of humanity, just the whole experience. It was the thing he missed the most about Cambridge. Rather than bridge and chat over some wine or beers, this is what he would have been doing every Friday night in Cambridge.

The downside to being the driver was the two of them were out for the count within minutes and it was a quiet drive back to Cambridge. Once he reached the M11 it was quick and easy on the way home, the opposite of the drive in. He shoved the two of them awake and they caught a cab after only having to walk for 10 minutes. Back at College and in bed by 2.00, despite the hour it had been a great day.

So another week started, routine as usual. Addenbrooke’s on Monday, OTC on Tuesday, and hockey on Wednesday, each after a full day in the Department. The weeks starting to merge together, just a treadmill of working hard. But on the Thursday at the start of week four, remember Cambridge weeks start on Thursday for reasons that are historical and don’t matter, he was stopped by Dr. Wakefield at breakfast asking Andrew to see him as soon as possible. Thursday was one of the days when there was Formal Hall after regular dinner so Andrew told him he could be at his room at 6.30. That meant he could still have some dinner. But he wasn’t skipping anything at the Department for Wakefield. So that night Andrew turned up at his room in College.

“Thank you for coming to see me Andrew. You are, by some distance, my most distant student and I have come to realise that I am failing as a Tutor as I clearly don’t know you.”

As an opening it had Andrew’s attention but he waited to hear what Wakefield had to say. He sighed at Andrew’s lack of response.

“I asked you here today Andrew because of the letter of recommendation that you wrote for an applicant, Ms. Amanda Brown. You wrote very eloquently about meeting her when she was a cancer patient and how you accompanied her and her mother into the College during our week of interviews in December 1983. I was asked by the admissions officer what I could tell her about you. When I understood the reason for her interest I came to realise that I did not know you as well as I assumed. I was concerned about your focus on academics to the exclusion of other activities when I spoke to you in March. You rather dismissed me then and our interactions since have been perfunctory. Could you please give me some background and context here?”

He should have been more prepared, maybe not for the actual moment of the interview, but at least for the College to be surprised at receiving a letter of recommendation from a current student. That there may be questions had not occurred to him. Time to be more open.

“Dr. Wakefield ever since I came up to Cambridge I have volunteered at Addenbrooke’s. We will come back to that in a moment. In addition I have been a member of the OTC, also since I came up, and for a year covering part of both 1^st and 2^nd year I assisted at the College of Art on a Thursday evening. I am also, as of the start of this term, the coach of the College’s women’s second eleven hockey team. So I am not here purely focusing on my academic studies to the exclusion of everything else the College and University have to offer.

“As for Mandy, I met her two years ago not long after I came up. She was in the pediatric oncology ward at Addenbrooke’s, which is where I volunteer. I spend time there as I had cancer when I was 13 years old. Over the course of that term Mandy and I talked. Just before the end of term she received the all clear and on the day of her release I brought her and her mother here to see round Great Court and to have lunch in Hall. As you said it was the perfect time as the College was full of applicants. In my talks with the patients, not just Mandy, I had talked about life after cancer, the challenge of not being cancer boy or girl. So when she was released she wanted to see inside one of the colleges, places she had walked past many times but had never been inside. So I showed her and her mother Trinity College. She and I have kept up an infrequent correspondence where I have talked about my time here, she has talked about her dreams and ambitions, some of which I am proud to say I inspired. This summer she asked me to write one of her two letters of recommendation which you know about. If she is offered an interview I will see her for the first time in two years, almost to the day. I worry I won’t recognise her, the last time I saw her she was 4’10 and bald as a coot.”

Andrew stopped as he was starting to ramble. Wakefield looked at him in surprised silence.

“You volunteer in the children’s cancer ward at Addenbrooke’s?”

“I do.”

“Is that not difficult and draining?”

“Most weeks it is.”

Wakefield was many things but a fool was not one of them.

“Ms. Brown is following in your footsteps, leaving cancer behind and challenging herself.”

Andrew nodded.

“It is a very inspirational story Andrew. Your letter was well written, especially the part about seeing beyond the Gate. You will be pleased to hear that Ms. Brown was going to be offered an interview even before this conversation but I will annotate her application file so that the interviewers are aware of her background. And you have never seen her since that day?”

“No, she lives over in Thetford and she has her own life to live. I wasn’t sure whether she would even want to continue to correspond once she returned home. Maybe she wanted to put it all behind her. But we write three or four times a year, once per term and once over the summer as well. We talked about the number of A-levels to take. Is it better to do fewer and hope to do well rather than do more and potentially spread yourself too thin? That is the part of which I have no knowledge. I do not know how she is doing academically and whether she would meet the entrance requirements here. All I can tell you is that she was inspired the day she had lunch here.”

Wakefield shook Andrew’s hand as he was leaving.

“You could have told me some of this back in March. That you are a Senior Scholar on top of all this is remarkable. Thank you Andrew.”

What do Andrew think about for the rest of the night? Being happy that the college had scheduled an interview for Mandy already. It wasn’t tokenism or anything like that. He also realised he had dodged a bullet when Wakefield did not ask about the College of Art. That would have been an interesting conversation. But that was the break in the routine of both that week and the week after. He did not coach the hockey team at their game on the Saturday as he was away for an OTC training day out at Stanford. It was the first weekend for the new cadets and the purpose appeared to make them as miserable as possible. The Permanent Staff succeeded.

That term the drama in Andrew’s life happened at the weekend. The most significant weekend of the term was the first weekend of November 1985, his second trip down to London, this time to see Ara. He had brought the car up to the playing fields so that at the end of the match he could just head off straightaway. Two hours later he was sitting having a late lunch in Jim and Freya’s kitchen letting them do most of the talking as he stuffed his face. The big news was that Moira and Lars had finally set a date for their wedding, something that had become quite the family joke as they had been engaged for a long time. Andrew had been confused at the start of the conversation because he thought they were already married, which rather proved the point. But the dates had been talked about but nothing set in stone. Now the talk was over. A date had been set, this was actually it.

“The wedding is going to be in Reykjavík in April. It is going to be a small affair, mind you that’s what we said and you know how that turned out.”

“You must be excited and pleased. Your daughter happily married.”

“I am. Oxford and then Iceland have changed our dynamic. If she was still at home or we had the relationship that we had in Edinburgh then it would be hard. But she left home more than four years ago and so this is the next stage in her life. You are right I am pleased.”

Freya changed the subject.

“Are you seeing your friend again?”

Something about the way she said it made him look at her and laugh.

“Yes I am.”

“Are you going to bring her along and introduce us? Or do we need to ‘unexpectedly encounter’ her one day.”

They all laughed at the euphemism for ambush.

“Let me guess she does not know what our jobs are?”

His blush gave him away.

“Andrew!”

“I have told her you are a lawyer and a civil servant.”

They both laughed heartily at his blatant half-truth.

“I think you should bring her over about 4.30. We are at the Opera tonight and are having dinner first so will be away by 5.30. She can survive an hour.”

He guessed Ara was meeting Jim and Freya. It was only later that the significance of it was explained to him. Andrew’s call to Ara was expected and he told her he would collect her around 4.15. Quick and easy. His second call, not so much. Andrew had received a letter from Rupashi asking for him to meet her and Pranav. The call was confirming the meeting for lunch the next day. The letter had been fine but the postscript had made him smile, ‘Utterly inappropriate yet completely inspired. Thank you.’ Andrew did wonder how would he and Pranav act when they met. If it got awkward or uncomfortable then it would be one and done. It was the first time he was trying to maintain contact with a former sex partner. When he then thought about Suzanne, Ara, Helena, Heloise, never mind Chiara and Renee, he revised that to a former partner where it was definitively over. He really was a slut of the first order. His calls finished Andrew went through and chatted with Jim and Freya. Early on in the conversation he remembered he had been for dinner with the Duke and Duchess.

“I was surprised for the unexpected dinner invite from her. It was a random meeting in the reception of Drummonds. Rather like running into you outside the library.”

“I have chatted to him once or twice. I think it is nothing more than curiosity Andrew. You are trying to do something very new and probably unique. They were interested to hear how that was doing.”

“That is the thing it was more social than that. We chatted and caught up, he was very interested in Suzanne’s thoughts on her 4^th year project, and they talked about that for a long time. It was not like the interrogation at Floors in January last year.”

Freya laughed.

“You almost sound like you disapprove of them talking to you.”

“No, just surprised. It is a different world. They even talked briefly about their children, the challenges.”

Jim looked at Freya before answering.

“I think that you are edging closer to that world.”

They laughed at his horrified expression.

“You should think about that Andrew. You know government ministers, you have donated an enormous amount to charity, you have another trust trying to support business and employment, friends with the rich and famous.”

He was going to need one of Jim’s extra-large glasses of whisky if they kept talking like that.

“There is more truth than fiction in what I just said.”

Andrew forced himself to breathe, it was done, the money donated, given away. There was nothing he could do about it.

“It reminds me when I was appointed a prefect at school. The head gave me this long list of all the things I had done and why I was appointed a prefect. It is the same thing with this. I don’t know why I am surprised. It is the unintended notoriety that surprises me.”

“You never thought about fortune and glory?”

“We made most of the money when I was 15 to 17, the companies were all sold before I was 18. Fortune happened mainly through the efforts of Leslie, her dad, Julian’s dad and all our advisors. As for the glory I didn’t think about it. I am not an ostentatious person and have no need to be the centre of attention. Which given all the photo and commercial shoots I have been on, and how little I am wearing in most of them, is inexplicable. If I was 5’10” and kept my clothes on nobody would know who I was and I would be unremarkable and difficult to pick out in a crowd. I suppose recognition will come at some point but I am not going to borrow trouble forward.”