Chapter 10

Classes started the following day and if the past three years were anything to go by then it would be full on from day one. So that afternoon Andrew finally had a chance to go back over the letters that had been waiting for him and pen some replies.

Helena’s letter was informative but also a litany of moans. She had found a job at a publisher, as an editorial assistant, she did not explain what such a job entailed, and was pleased to be working, and in London. That was all good. The pay, although not great was better than she expected and she was working in a field she enjoyed and using her degree. What was grating was living at home. The positive of the job news was offset by the negative of dealing with her parents. She had not yet found a flat but her search was intensifying. Her final comment was that for once she had managed to survive the summer without falling for a man. Andrew couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed. His reply to her was full of the usual edited news of his life. He also talked about the sense of déjà vu from the first weekend, and that it was different without her there. Helena was a good friend and he was going to work hard to keep in touch with her.

In contrast to Helena’s letter Meredith’s one was funny, upbeat and full of snippets and trivia about life in South America. She had recently arrived in Santiago in Chile and was working in a bar in the centre of the city. Like Helena, living at home had been a chore but she had flown the coop and her letter was full of plans. The gist of it appeared to be work hard for a month, working extra shifts, saving as much as possible, then spend a month, or however long the money lasted, travelling around the region. She had plans for Peru, Bolivia and possibly Argentina, depending on what she could find out about how Brits were treated there after the Falklands War. She talked about meeting two or three other people who were doing the same as her. So far the trip seemed to be living up to her dream. His own letter back was shorter, but with Merry Andrew included some of the teasing Olivia endured at Newnham the previous evening. Ella seemed to have the same kind of humour as Merry. It was all very light and fluffy.

With the models it was interesting that he and Chiara no longer wrote to each other. They still worked together but were at very different stages of their lives and she was nearly 10 years older than him. It was only when he was reading about the exciting adventures of Heloise and Renee that he was struck that he and Chiara had moved on. And it was also interesting that of the three of them Renee was the one that he was becoming closest with. Despite having very little in common and being physically out of whack as well, she was the one model that Andrew was more open with. On the continuum of self-absorption Chiara was the clear leader, Heloise had her moments but Renee was remarkably free of it. He knew he was a psychologist’s dream when it came to certain things but Andrew was drawn to Renee because her modelling career until the last year had been a struggle. Even now, more successful and more well known, she was still fighting the prejudice of being only 5’ tall. In many ways she had done well to still be modelling at 25. But Renee Clement also reminded him of Katie and Tanvi back at school. Both beautiful, both tiny and both brought out protective feelings in him. Renee was the same. The attraction had been physical at first, but it was her infectious enthusiasm that had really caught his attention. But all of that had changed and morphed over the months until now she was a good friend, and someone who he was more open with about his life at Cambridge than anyone else. In his letter over the summer Andrew had talked about being isolated and bored, but also how it was helping him define his project. It was small things like that, trivial almost, but so much of his life was absurdly compartmentalised. Andrew had missed her that summer and couldn’t wait to see her on the shoot in the Caribbean. As for the content of their letters, they both were working and were leading significantly more glamourous lives than him, which was hardly surprising. Heloise was now taking acting lessons, part time, with the hope that she could start to be considered for commercials with dialogue. She was busier than Renee and on higher profile shoots and for larger companies but the frequency of their communication had not slowed down. Probably unfairly, Andrew had assumed that they would start to drift apart, a slower version of him and Chiara, but so far that had not been the case. One thing that was noticeable by its absence was any mention of Abigail. At Trinity now if they saw each other it would be nothing more than ‘hi’ without breaking stride. She was just an acquaintance now, he wasn’t even sad about it. They had both moved on and all that was notable about it was that they still saw each other most days. They had been close, had a university fling for a term or so, and had moved on. Andrew had realised at some point over the previous year that he missed talking to Dan Wilson, her father, about engineering more than he did Abi. Heloise would normally mention Abi in her letters so he wondered about the omission this time. His own replies to both of them were sadly lacking in the glamour of their letters, he talked about the scenario from his last week of shooting and how much he was looking forward to week on Martinique in December.

He had received a rare letter from Mareikura and had caught up on her life. As with Meredith when she talked about South America, so with Mar it was interesting to hear her write about life in New Zealand. She had ended up getting a degree in Marine Biology and was an underpaid government researcher working on the migratory patterns of whales in New Zealand waters. In her letters, she would often write two or three sections over several months before sending the letter off. They were infrequent but at least yearly correspondents, and had been for many years. A memorable month in Edinburgh in 1980 had survived many years and more than 11,000 miles of distance. Andrew’s letters with Mar had no subtext. They were both older, there was practically no chance that they would meet, it was a friendship that survived despite a flimsy beginning. They had made an effort in writing at the start and it was still going.

His letters from and to Lilja in Helsinki were an entirely different matter. There was an underlying tension to them, resulting from slutty old Andrew flying all the way to Helsinki to spend the weekend fucking her. The foundation of their relationship was sex, lots of sex, hard passionate sex, plus Lilja’s exhibitionist tendencies. Since that visit they had written regularly and tried to fill in some of the back story of their lives. What he and Lilja needed to do was be like him and Abi, they needed to move on. Her story was similar to Moira and Jim’s, an only child with a dead mother. And while Moira now lived in Iceland with her husband and saw Jim a couple of times a year, Lilja was much closer to her father. As in she was never going to leave Finland. Lilja and Andrew were nothing more than a holiday fling that had somehow become pen pals. She had offered a place to stay if he could get to Helsinki and had been surprised when he accepted. Andrew didn’t think she knew whether it had been a pleasant surprise or not. So unlike his letters to Mar or Renee there was an underlying question that was never outright addressed or answered. He knew at some point in the coming year their letters would dry up. He wasn’t going to fly to Helsinki just to fuck her again, and she was unable, or unwilling, to come to Britain.

HIs final correspondent was also fraught with subtext and history. Well her letters were at least. Rupashi had written and although it was chatty and almost carefully bland he did wonder as to why she had written. It was a first. Other than the one introductory meeting with her and Pranav Andrew had not had the chance to see her or them since. Not a conscious thing just there never seemed to be enough time and when there was time their schedules were out of alignment. The other thing that was noticeable was that she wrote on her firm’s letter-headed paper and so if he was to reply it would be to her work and not to her house. Andrew had also talked to Navya both over the summer and again this week and so assumed that Rupashi would get news about him from her sister. There was no point in endlessly agonising over it and so he re-read the letter and then replied, filling her in on my life. Different people got to hear about different facets and with Rupashi there was more about Jim and Freya. In fact he never mentioned them to anyone else. HIs life was an endless series of silos.

So the afternoon passed by quickly as he penned his replies to them all. Andrew was at Hall as it opened to get plenty of food but also allow time for it to digest before the training session. He was not alone and saw a lot of the team scattered around.

“I have arranged to meet Jack at Cindies tonight, early so that we don’t have to queue. Do either of you want to come?”

He was sitting have dinner with Justin and Pedro.

“The beer is cheaper at the Bar here. And it is the last night before classes.”

You did not need the Rosetta Stone to translate that last statement.

“Okay. I am going to mention it to Navya before the training session so there may be lots of the hockey team there, I don’t know.”

Suddenly the College Bar had competition. The two of them looked at each other and then shrugged.

“Even if not that many come over we can meet the other College’s Freshers instead. Sure we will come. What time?”

“Main Gate at 9.30?”

“Done.”

“What has the week been like?”

Pedro looked shifty and gestured for Justin to start.

“Too easy. The first time away from mum and dad, the sense of peer pressure. ‘Everyone else is doing, it is a rite of passage’, all the shit like that. What do you always say, ‘there is no one to say no’? The truth is no one is making us work for it.”

He shrugged.

“And it is not just the guys. You should hear some of the women in our year. The first year guys have got no chance.”

Andrew looked at Pedro.

“Is it really that bad, that easy?”

He nodded.

“It seems more, I don’t know what the right word is. Justin is right it is too easy. But it is as if the first years are more immoral, no that’s wrong, amoral maybe, horny, stupid, easy. Pick your word. And you know they are all not like that but there are a lot of them. It is like they have turned up and are waiting to be hunted. The Fresher guys are just overwhelmed, just ambushed, they are bagged and carried off to bed before they know what has happened to them. But the women, they turn up here wanting to get laid, have fun. You have been told that already.”

Very discretely done. Mandy was not unique.

“We saw you at the bar on Sunday but then we got distracted. What do you think?”

“I had been chatting to Navya and Matt so missed some of the craziness. And I was at out on Monday and Tuesday nights as usual. But you know me, I can be oblivious to stuff.”

“What are you going to do this year? Same as last year, hook up with someone for the whole year, or mix and match?”

“No idea, I doubt I will be as lucky as finding someone like Merry again.”

“Well we will see you at 9.30.”

Andrew walked over to the hockey pitches, a 10 minute walk west of the College, well in advance. He wanted to check that the nets were out and then stretch and warm up. The nets were out but otherwise the hockey area was empty. He stretched for a while but at 6.45 the players started to turn up, most wanting to jog and stretch, hit the ball back and forth between each other. For most of them it was the first time playing hockey for six months. What became increasingly apparent was that the College was making great strides in achieving gender equality in undergraduate admissions. The previous year there had been 18 players who played regularly for the 2^nd eleven. Graduation had reduced that number so to have 29 students for the first, unofficial training session was a shock. If they could find a coach then there might be a 3^rd eleven as well. Rather than worrying about it Andrew just got them all to start hitting, warming up. The one issue was they had no goalie gear so practicing things like short corners was going to have to wait for another day.

Once everyone was warmed up he started a game. It was the only way to keep everyone involved, especially as he was coaching on his own. They played with no goalies and Andrew subbed everyone on and off every five minutes. He watched them play, seeing how they would play with no coaching. Even to his relatively untrained eye he could tell who he had coached the previous year. The hard cross passes between the defence and then the quick passes up the wings were things they had worked on the previous year. After 20 minutes he got everyone together gave two or three coaching points and instructions and sent them back out. At 8.00 they had a five minute break to grab some water before it was more of the same for another 30 minutes. The final 30 minutes was spent warming down, some dribble practice, tackle practice just letting them recover from an hour of simulated game. At 8.55 they were done.

“Thanks everyone for coming out. I will have to talk to the College about whether there is another coach because we might have the numbers for a 3^rd eleven, although some of you will get the chance to play for the College first team. Check the board at the weekend for updates.”

Andrew knew the names of 10 or 11 of the women, all returning players and so the walk back was spent constantly meeting and being told the names of nearly 20 women he had never met. If he remembered two or three names the next day it would be a miracle.

“You coming to the Bar Andrew?”

This was Navya. It was just as well she had asked as he had not told her about Cindies.

“No, not tonight. I have agreed to meet Jack at Cindies. I am going early so that I don’t have to queue.”

“Cindies already?”

“It is easier than signing in and out of each other’s Colleges.”

People started peeling off at Burrell’s Field before the rest of them walked back to the original part of the College. After a quick shower, short hair a blessing as always, Andrew met his two friends at the Main Gate. Before they even left Andrew spotted a group of four 1^st years walk towards them from Angel Court. It looked like some of the team were coming to Cindies. Being gentlemen Pedro, Justin and Andrew all waited and it allowed him a second chance to memorise some names. There was Catriona and Katherine, who went by Kate, Violet and Emily. All four of them were Freshers and seemed incredibly young.

One of Andrew’s latent issues was he liked older women. Other than a couple of nights out at the end of 6^th year he had never gone out with anyone younger than him. The standard couple where the guy is a couple of years older than the woman, well he had never done that. So here were four women, all 18 and yet they seemed young. Now Pedro and Justin, and Jack when they got to Cindies, all thought this was great and although they stood in a group, there was inevitable pairing up happening particularly once they started dancing.

Andrew never got the chance to really talk to Emily after their first couple of dances. Another six players turned up and he spent most of the night being passed around by the different players. Jack, Pedro and Justin graciously made themselves available for dancing as well and so they all had a hoot. But it was the night before the start of classes and those of them who were returning students knew that there would be no mercy at 9.05 the following morning. The Freshers decided to stay, they would have to learn the hard way, but the other eight of them headed back to the College and Jack cut across to Kings. It had been a good night. One of the returning players that had come out was Catherine Vickers, now a second year, who was friends with Navya and who Andrew had gotten to know.

“There were a lot of players there tonight. You did well to keep everything moving, not too much standing around. What do you think will happen?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know what goes on at the Sports Union. Navya asked me to coach last year because there wasn’t anyone else. There are a lot more women at the College and thus more people who want to play. Maybe there are more coaches. Like I said I don’t hang out with or know the politics of the Sports Union. I think they only asked me because they were really short.”

As Andrew said it he realised that the College may have enough coaches that year and he wouldn’t be needed. The thought disappointed him but there was not much he could do about it.

Even although they thought they were prepared for the first class it still washed over everyone like a tsunami. It was scary how much was covered in the class, and how much was assumed. By lunchtime Olivia and Andrew were beaten down.

“Do you think they do it deliberately? Make us scared on the first day.”

She might have a point. Every year was the same, a ferocity at the beginning. Andrew always assumed that they got inured to it somehow but maybe they did ease back after a couple of weeks. Keith and Matt sat down at the table.

“Don’t say it, we know.”

They still saw Keith most days, even although they were in none of the same classes. When they were sitting in lectures or working at labs it was hardly conducive to chatting anyway. Most lunchtimes they caught up and Keith was in the library as often as the rest of them. But Andrew was not as close to him as he was to Matt and Olivia, perhaps it was inevitable. The first day of classes came to an end and they all trudged back to their Colleges thinking about all the work they had to do in the Library. Yet it was good to be back. Andrew’s project consumed most of his spare time, it was similar to the Open University course when he was at school. He sat and chatted after Hall but then went back to his room to think about his project. Friday was the same, no one was up for playing bridge and so Andrew headed back to his room.

Before he sat down to work on his project Andrew considered what he was going to do about the photos with Ursula. He had received a letter from Drummond’s that morning with the name of a law firm in Maastricht and a lawyer’s name. He hadn’t spoken to Tony or Maggie about it yet but would do so on Sunday. It was an unnecessary complication and he needed to talk it through with them what was the best way to handle it. He parked it and returned to his project.

Suddenly Wednesday night had been a big waste of time as on Saturday morning Andrew found out that he was not needed to coach hockey. Trinity College, through the Sports Union, had organised a second coach and there were sufficient women for two elevens but not three. It was thank you but don’t let the door hit you on the arse on the way out. Several of the players looked upset or pissed off but it was the trials for the teams and they all had to get ready. Suddenly that Saturday and every other one for the next two terms was free. Andrew walked back to College feeling more than a little sorry for himself. When he got to his room he spotted his camera bag so rather than sulk he grabbed it and wandered down to the car. Leaving Cambridge he had no idea where he was heading but didn’t really care. 90 minutes later, approaching Lowestoft on the coast, Andrew saw a sign for the Suffolk Coastal Path. On a whim he followed the sign and ended up at Walberswick, another uniquely British name. He had passed a pub barely 100 metres from the carpark so walked back and enjoyed a pie and pint for lunch. The rest of the day was spent walking on miles and miles of beach, mostly decent sand, some shingle but all passable. The Coastal Path veered inland at times but Andrew ignored that and just wandered south on the shore enjoying the early autumn weather. There wasn’t a huge amount to photograph but it was nice to just escape.