Chapter 6

Rather than Andrew hover about waiting for Mandy and her mother he had agreed that they would get Mandy signed into her room and then come over to his stair any time after 5.00. Olivia and Matt were gone but Pedro was around and the two of them headed to the Library and studied for the whole day. It took a whole day just to get through all the assumed material from the last couple of days of lectures. But by 4.30 Andrew felt good about the term and packed up.

“Do you want to go out tonight Andrew? The Art College are still here, Cindies should be good.”

“I can’t tonight. I am meeting someone for dinner. I got to know her a couple of years ago at Addenbrooke’s and she has now applied here. She has her interview tomorrow. I am taking her and her mother out for dinner.”

Pedro smiled broadly.

“That has to make you feel 10 feet tall.”

“Totally. I am more nervous for her interview than I was for my own.”

They had started walking back over to Trinity, passing Burrell’s which appeared to have no applicants as it was quiet and through the Paddocks back to the College.

“What is the plan for tomorrow?”

“I need to find out what time her interview is. If it after 11.00 then I will see her at breakfast and just sit and catch up. If it is an early interview then I will meet her afterwards. I don’t know.”

“When are you going back to London?”

“After dinner. 8.00 maybe later. The road will be quieter.”

They arranged to meet for dinner the next night before separating and heading to their respective rooms. Andrew wasn’t a messy bloke, he kept his room tidy, as much for himself as for the bedders. He saw the third bedder as frequently as he had seen the other two. The bedder in 1^st year he had met twice in the year and the one in 2^nd year once. So far, he had met his current bedder once and that was in the stair rather than in his room. The bedder’s favourite students? The ones who were never there.

At about 5.15 there was a knock on the door and Andrew saw Mandy Brown for the first time in two years, all but two days. There was no need to figure out what chemo had done to Mandy; it had stopped her growth stone cold. She was still only 4’10” but to his surprise she had dark auburn hair framing her face. She was not skeletal but she was still a petite little thing. Her face had filled out and lost the gaunt chemo look. But her eyes hadn’t changed. Still inquisitive, still demanding, and with a mischievous sparkle that would make a gargoyle smile. He didn’t know who smiled the widest but he leant down and she jumped into his arms. A hug is not supposed to make you tear up but for both of them, and her mother standing a couple of steps down from the landing outside his door, it did. Nobody said anything because words weren’t needed. Eventually she jumped down and he embraced Mrs. Brown and invited them into his rooms.

The first ten minutes were lost in the emotion of their meeting but they all calmed down eventually. And it went from supercharged emotions to the prosaic as they started to chat. Who was looking after the younger siblings while they were there just odds and ends of conversation.

“So you have two choices for dinner, here in the College in Hall where you had lunch a couple of years ago or we can head out into town, which should be quiet as the bulk of the students left at the weekend.”

There was no debate. Both Mandy and her mother wanted to eat in Hall, which wasn’t much of a surprise. So the three of them headed back down the stair and out into Nevile’s Court. It was not much of a journey as Hall was 30 metres from his stair. But guess who was walking across from New Court for dinner? Pedro was quite embarrassed to have run into them but Andrew waved him over, he wasn’t just going to ignore him.

“This is my good friend Pedro Garcia, who I met the second day I was here. Pedro, this is Mandy Brown and her mother, who I was telling you about.”

He didn’t know who was more shocked by what followed. Andrew had forgotten that he told the patients about his friends and Pedro never realised that he had done so.

“Pedro! Oh this is great. Andrew used to tell us all about you.”

Pedro’s head whipped round to look at Mandy as she greeted him like a long lost cousin and then whipped back to Andrew when he realised what she had said.

“Don’t panic there were young children there too, it was all very Disney.”

It was not often his friend was at a loss for words but chalk one up to Mandy.

“As you can tell from my reaction I never realised that Andrew talked about the rest of us when he was out at the hospital. And as you can probably also tell I have a bit of guilty conscious.”

They had carried on walking into Hall and Pedro got his food with them.

“You must come and sit with us. It will be good to hear another perspective about this place plus we can find out what Andrew has been up to.”

Pedro laughed a little too loud and long for Andrew’s liking and came and sat down with them. Andrew explained to the two of them that he had given Pedro the background earlier so they didn’t need to rehash how Mandy and Andrew had met.

“I think we have put to bed the argument as to whether Andrew was stunted or a mutant as a result of chemo, clearly he is a mutant.”

“I was never tall for my year growing up and I had been through puberty before my cancer was discovered so I don’t think it is that simple. I come from a long line of short people.”

Mrs. Brown laughed and nodded. She was a giant at 5’2”. Andrew had shared enough of his post cancer story with people over the previous couple of years that Pedro skillfully asked the two of them about the recovery, getting back to school, you could tell that he was used to chatting up women as he had the two of them laughing and giggling with him. And it was perfect, it let all the emotions drain away, all the inherent awkwardness dissipate and relaxed them all. Once dinner was over Pedro took his leave.

“If I don’t see you before your interview then good luck. I am sure you are going to do really well. I am going to be at the Bar after 9.00 and we can go upstairs to the JCR and sit and chat if you would like. Nice to meet you Mrs. Brown.”

Once Pedro left Mrs. Brown also decided it was time to get back to Thetford. Andrew hugged her again before waiting outside while mother and daughter said their goodbyes. Suddenly it was just the two of them.

“I am over in Angel Court, A7 but the corridor is full of people like me all worried about tomorrow.”

“Come back to mine then, most of the Fellows will be at Formal Hall and Bev is never around.”

On the short walk back he explained about his stair mates. Once back in his rooms they sat down and started to chat.

“I can’t believe it has been two years since I got released.”

Mandy’s mannerisms were eerily similar to his own, as she shook her head.

“But coming here that day inspired me, just the casual way you said I would be back in two years when I applied. I had never thought I would apply to Cambridge, I wasn’t even sure I would apply to university. But I thought I have beaten cancer so why not. You remember those first couple of letters, talking about study habits, you wrote about how you caught up with all your school work so that you were ready when you got back to class. Well I copied you, lock, stock and barrel. I didn’t know if I had the smarts to get here but I tried. God, it was tough at first, but I remember reading in one of your letters about how you stuck at it. I think you were referring to your fitness regime but I used it as motivation for my academics. I was signed up for eight O-levels and I did really well, compared to where I had been at the start of the year. My five A’s, two B’s and a C are nothing special but I was so happy.”

“I remember getting the letter at the end of the summer when you had found out the results.”

“You know the debate I had around my A-levels and how many to do. But three is the right number for me and I am doing really well in two of them and good in the third. English Literature and Psychology I am in the top five in the class and French I am in the top third, maybe a little better, top quarter. It is that one that I need to drag up. I am in line for two A’s and a B and I want to get three As. I think that is going to be the offer, if I get one.”

Andrew let her ramble, this was what she needed, just to talk it all through, out loud to someone else. She didn’t need or want his input, it was just a way to relax.

“Did the College ask about you writing a letter of recommendation?”

“Oh yes, my Tutor came to see me and asked me to explain. But the best part was that they had already decided to interview you even before he came for the background.”

“What did the tutor say, what did he ask?”

“I don’t really talk about my time volunteering so first off he just wanted to know what I was doing, even before getting into how you and I met.”

“You don’t talk about it?”

“No. It was not until Christmas last year that anyone here knew that I go to the hospital every week.”

“Why?”

“Two reasons. Firstly it is not about me, it is about the patients. I remind myself that every Monday night as I walk back into town. I am not doing this for recognition or plaudits. And the other one is the maths, the roulette wheel as your mother called it. One of my friends asked if I would ever talk about it. My response. ‘What do you want me to say? It was a good week, only two children died?’. Nobody has ever asked.”

Mandy’s face was etched in shock. Her voice was a whisper.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Yes. It was a deliberately blunt answer to a good friend. Anyone who knows I volunteer knows not to ask. As I said in a different context, if you don’t want to hear the answer don’t ask the question.”

“Wow.”

She reached out and gently took his hand.

“Is it that bad?”

“Worse. You felt how I clung to you earlier. You are the one that escaped, now you are not the only one, but you represent the hope I need to go there every week. There have been stretches of time when it has been fucking awful. I have no idea how the nurses and doctors have the mental and emotional strength and stamina to deal with it. I am there four hours a week during term time not forty hours week in and week out.”

“You have never thought about giving up?”

“Every week, but I will always go back. Although it will be something that I need to think about as part of my life after Cambridge. But no, cancer is something that has to be fought and I won’t give up. But it can take me until after lunch on Tuesday to repair my spirit.”

“It sounds like it is getting you down?”

“It does but that is mostly because I don’t feel like I am making much of a difference. That wonderful four or five weeks in November 1983 has not been repeated. Now that is mainly because I now volunteer on a Monday night due to all the OTC training at the weekend. It is that more than anything else that gets me down, and what I have to remind myself constantly. I am looking for outputs, feedback or comments from patients, as if my volunteering is important and needs to be acknowledged. What I need to focus on is the inputs, talk to as many people as possible. Answer questions, help out around the place and not worry about whether people are pleased I am there. It has fuck all to do with me, it is all about the patients. That speech is pretty much a weekly routine on the walk back into town.”

“Have you thought about changing the focus of your volunteering?”

“What do you mean?”

“Work with patients like me that have gone into remission. Think about all the talks we had about not being defined as cancer girl. You are a very good motivator, and just you being here is proof that it works. It is not just eating well and exercise but grabbing this reprieve, this second chance and making the most of it. I would not be here today without you. Yes, yes, yes, I know it is my hard work and ability that has me here this week but you are the person that broadened my mind, inspired me to work hard, and to persevere when I would have given up in the past. It is up to you but I think that would be a really good use of your time, not just talking to the patients but their parents as well.”

The solution to a lot of Andrew’s concerns was sitting right there in front of him. It took someone approaching it from a different direction to see that this was something that he could do very well. He could still volunteer on the ward if there was no one to talk to but if the hospital allowed it he could do some amateur counselling. Well not really but Andrew knew what he meant. He was stupefied how obvious this was and how he had missed it.

“That is brilliant. It was there all the time, right there in front of me, but it took you talking about it for me to realise this would suit me perfectly.”

Andrew pulled her up into another hug. When he let her go Mandy was smiling shyly.

“Do you think we could go over to the Bar and see Pedro.”

He looked at her and she blushed endearingly.

“Really?”

“Yes really. He is cute.”

Oh lord, Pedro. Really? Mandy misread his silence.

“I am sorry Andrew but I just don’t think of you that way. You are the older brother I never had. It would be too weird.”

He laughed.

“No, I understand and I know what you mean. You are like a little sister and you are right. Weird is the word. I was just bemoaning your appalling taste in my head.”

He was sure that applicants are not meant to whack current students but it didn’t stop her.

“Come on then.”

Mandy bundled up in her coat and they walked across Great Court to the Bar tucked in the corner beside the access to Angel Court. Pedro was already there chatting to a couple of people he knew but when he saw them he came over.

“You are here, great.”

Andrew was sent to the bar and by the time he got back the two of them were laughing away, body language already close and getting closer. They had an hour of appalling chat, reminiscing about school scandals, slightly fresher for Mandy than Pedro and him but they weren’t that old. People getting caught, one girl in catholic Spain getting knocked up, the way Pedro talked about that it sounded like it was on the front page of the Galician papers. Mandy matter of factly trumping his one pregnancy with no less than five at her school, one at 14, two at 15, and one each at 16 and 17. You could have knocked Pedro and Andrew over with a feather. Mandy just giggled. At 10.00 what little pretence between them was disappearing so rather than watch the randy Spanish git take her back to his room Andrew bid them goodnight with Pedro promising to make sure Mandy got back to her room safely. The best part was when they both, separately, winked at him. One was just as bad as the other.

Andrew was first to breakfast and the two of them arrived suspiciously close together, not together but within a minute of each other. Pedro was being considerably more discreet than Mandy and after kissing her on the cheek scuttled off to the Library. The smile on her face was broad.

“Do you want to know the funny thing?”

“I am not sure but okay.”

“He was worried about your reaction. I had to use all my feminine wiles to break down his resistance.”

She was irrepressible and it took Andrew putting his fingers in my ears and going ‘lalalalala’ for her to stop trying to tell him all about her night.

“You are my little sister for goodness sake. Mystery.”

And it was all a good distraction from her interview. She had a small card with some notes, things to remember to emphasise, and she did a last run through with it just getting her mind in the right place. All around them were nervous 17 year olds, some sitting on their own, some in small groups, all of them looking nervous at their approaching interviews. With a kiss on the cheek she headed off and Andrew went back to his room. Interviews took two hours minimum so he planned to be back at Hall for lunch at 12.30. Pedro was going to come back over as well. Mandy was subdued when she returned, not upset just subdued.

“It was difficult to tell how it went. I covered everything that I wanted to. They were interested in the day I first came her, and how it inspired me. I played all the cards that I could. I am just not sure that it will be enough. Early February is when I should find out if I get an offer. Only two months of torture.”

They worked to cheer her up and she was cheerier when it was time to for her mother to collect her. She hugged and kissed Pedro, kissed him soundly, and then sheepishly hugged Andrew for a long time. With a whispered “Thank you” she left. Andrew turned to Pedro who looked alarmed. Breaking into a smile Andrew tried to punch him on the shoulder. He dodged out the way.

“Horny Spanish git.”

An unapologetic shrug was his only response. After dinner that night Andrew bid Pedro a Merry Christmas.

“When do you go back to Madrid?”

“Not until the 15^th. I leave here on Saturday morning and am going to stay with Justin for a week. He has promised to take me down to Brighton.”

That was the image Andrew drove back to London with; Justin and Pedro set loose upon the fair maidens of Brighton. He got in late to the flat and just quietly prepared for bed. In the morning he had time for his exercises and run before heading along to King’s Cross to collect Leslie and Julian. They were outside and it was a smooth and painless pick up. Andrew put on the coffee while they put their bags in the other spare bedroom, the one that Moira and the Wylies used when they were there. While they got all their stuff sorted out Andrew had some coffee and ate some breakfast. Jim wandered through for the coffee for Freya and then sat in the kitchen with the three of them chatting.

“Why did you come down overnight? The morning train would have got you here in plenty time.”

“I know but there have been a lot of delays on the east coast line and I didn’t want to risk being late or feeling rushed when we got here. This way I can be calm in my preparations, and in dealing with these two clowns.”

Julian and Andrew tried to look aggrieved, and they didn’t pull it off. Freya bustled through and warmly greeted them both.

“Good to see you. Where is this dinner tonight? Andrew doesn’t know.”

The bus he had just been thrown under was driven by Leslie.

“Really. Despite me telling him at least three times.”

“Er.”

“It is at St. James’ Palace.”

She sold it well. Freya, Julian and Andrew vied for the most amazed or horrified expression. Freya recovered first, Andrew was too busy thinking about sudden flights to Paris. Jim was trying not to smirk.

“Really.”

“No. I just said that to scare these two idiots.”

She had married one of the idiots so she was slightly complicit.

“We are having dinner at Claridge’s at 7.30.”

Freya smiled at Andrew and Julian’s evident relief.

“Do you know who is attending?”

“I am not going to wind them up any more. This one” Leslie pointed at Andrew “will do a runner. No it is just the five of us. Ogilvy and Bodmer and the three of us.”

Andrew could tell Freya was pleased that Leslie cracked the whip with them. There was a definite smirk to her smile as she said goodbye. Once it was just the three of them they all relaxed.