Chapter 11

Looking back on Lent term of his final year Andrew allowed his course, his studying and especially his project to swamp everything else. And although he was working incredibly hard, in many ways he was calmer, and a lot less angst ridden than most of his 3^rd year or the first term of his 4^th year. He wasn’t an ostrich so much as Andrew used his studies as a shield against everything else. With the project on the back burner until after the exams he finally stopped stressing about it for a month. And he knew that it was the project that was driving most of his manic behaviour. He and Olivia sat and studied all week, working their way through the material. They had similar but not identical study plans, just as they sat in the same area of the library but not beside each other. The closeness but separation worked well for the two of them. The same as the prior year Olivia would spend three weeks at home in Clermont-Ferrand using the local university library to study. They had dinner together at Newnham on the Friday evening before Andrew headed down to London.

“It is still five weeks until our exams start and I just want them to be over.”

“I know what you mean. This term has been too busy. I tried to do too much.”

“Was Upshaw pleased with the progress on your project?”

“Well he grilled me for two hours but he was very pleased at the end of it.”

Very typically Andrew did not mention Upshaw’s comments.

“What about your project?”

“It is on track. I have just got to get through May.”

“Listen to us, hardly riveting conversation.”

“It is all we can talk about at the moment isn’t it, the course. What are you planning to do after the project is submitted? Are you going to go to London or Edinburgh?”

“That seems so far away. London for the weekend probably but we have to do that presentation, and then I have a four day Army course. After the Ball it is only a week until graduation. I doubt I will go to Edinburgh but I may go down to London. To be honest after all the running around this term I need to calm down. I had a week in Amsterdam at the end of 1^st year, that was the last holiday I had. I am looking forward to two weeks somewhere just recharging. I need a break.”

“Where?”

“One of the big capitals that is warm but has stuff to do. Madrid maybe, although Pedro says it is miserably hot in the summer. Lisbon, Vienna, I don’t know I’ll find somewhere.”

“You are not going to lie on the beach?”

Andrew never even got a chance to say anything.

“Pah, idiot. Ignore me.”

“Yeah, I do look odd with long shorts, a long-sleeved shirt and my hat on, while I am walking on the beach with everyone in bikinis.”

“You wore a lot less in those commercials!”

“Yes but I was up at 5.00 in the morning so that we were there for sunrise. The sacrifices I make for my art.”

“Fool.”

“True. I did have to be careful, same in Martinique. But between the sunnies and the hat and a lot of sunscreen I was fine. The shots on the little yacht and the small sea-scooters should be good.”

“Sea-scooters?”

Andrew tried to explain about jet skis, a name he wasn’t really familiar with.

“So you kept your clothes on then?”

“Well mostly.”

A bizarre conversation to have with your study buddy on the engineering course. With a hug and a peck on the cheek he was off.

The week of studying in London was rejuvenating, just as the weekends had been during the term. Ara and Andrew spent the Saturday being a couple, they walked in Hyde Park, window-shopped, spent time not thinking about their studies. It was a necessary pause after nine days of relentless studying. Now that he knew that Ara picked his clothes to emphasise his body Andrew was less surprised to go into several stores where he tried on some shirts or tops. Given that he knew what his reward was going to be he coped with a couple of hours of shopping. Later than evening Ara presented her lubed up arsehole and he thanked her in the most intimate way possible. Every time Ara and Andrew were together they had anal sex. She got off on the taboo of the act and Andrew came to realise that he did too. The physiology of the act was good but the mental aspect of it was out of this world. Even the preparations were all part of the whole experience. It was a regular part of their sex life.

Ara was very close to being ready to submit her PhD dissertation, and so while Andrew studied her days were full of the practicalities and logistics of producing the document, getting the final pages back from the typist, checking the binding, one hundred little details. The actual writing was over, the editing finished, it was now all about getting the physical product into a final form.

But for the rest of the week Andrew was managed. Carefully, but managed nonetheless. If he had been on his own he knew he would have pushed 90 hours of studying. But by taking the Saturday off and being forced to stop and eat meals at a reasonable time and not study late into the night Andrew only studied 60 to 70 hours. He knew that with him studying filled all the spaces where he wasn’t doing anything else. Just by keeping a portion of balance he didn’t study as insanely as either of the previous two years, or so far that year.

It was a myriad of little things that helped. But the overwhelming thing, the thing that really hit him was how Ara was there for him. She supported the nerd, only got him to stop studying when it started to get late, she did a lot of things to show that she understood him. Andrew got love, he felt loved. Ara also got help and guidance from Freya, although it was not obvious at the time. It was Ara that suggested that Freya and Jim should come over for dinner which Andrew realised was horribly overdue. They had been to the house but he had not had them over for a meal. So it was lots of things like that. Little gestures. As a result the week went smoothly, calmly and quickly. Despite studying so hard Andrew felt in control and was working his way through his study plan.

Andrew internally thought about his project as being a mental shield, something he used to block all the rest of the things going on in his life. With the project not occupying all his time that week all the things in the rest of his life started to seep back into his consciousness. Most particularly his behaviour with, and feelings for, Ara and Suzanne.

He was resolving some of his issues, reining in his incessant sluttiness. There would be no more liaisons while modelling and he had been rightfully dumped by Catherine at Cambridge. But together they added up to less than 1% of his emotional issues. He fought even acknowledging it to himself but he was in love with two women. And the closer he got to having to make a decision, to figure what the hell he was doing with these two wonderful women, the more Andrew buried his head in the sand and lived like Epicurus. That week was not the time to try and solve it. He didn’t know when that time was, but that week was not it. Andrew McLeod might have been a clever man but he was an idiot. And that is being kind.

He took Ara back to her dorm on the Saturday morning before heading up the road to Edinburgh. She had been calm, she appeared calmer than him, and so their parting had not been too drawn out. But the journey to Edinburgh was a blurred passage of time, his mind was thinking about his project, his revision and the fact that he was driving north from the bed and arms of one woman into the bed and arms of another woman. That both beds were his was a problem.

And yet when Andrew got to Edinburgh the problems melted away. He walked into the flat and there was a wonderful sense, a smell, a feeling of the familiar. Suzanne had made dinner and invited Julian and Leslie, and Maggie and Tony, to come over. The latter two were already there and Leslie and Julian arrived while Andrew was still dumping his bag in the bedroom. After lots of hugs and handshakes and one scorching kiss they sat at the dinner table and caught up on each other’s lives. Because of the security clearances there was no talk about the follow up to AIMS, although Andrew could see from Julian’s face that there was plenty to talk about.

“I have been invited to speak at an investment conference in July. It is in London, so can we come and stay with you that week?”

Leslie sounded proud and excited.

“Of course, but I may not be in the house then.”

Andrew talked about the final week of modelling and potentially the Territorial Army Commissioning Course at Sandhurst.

“When is the conference?”

Leslie dug her diary out of her bag.

“22^th to the 24^th, Wednesday to Friday. I am speaking on the Thursday afternoon.”

“If I am free then do you want me to be there? What are you talking about?”

“CMS. And no you don’t need to be there, it is an expensive conference to attend. I am going to talk about how we changed from a straight investment fund into what it is now, an endowment fund. There are a lot of bullshit stories and myths about it, so when the chance to speak came up, I jumped at it.”

“Great. How big is the conference? How many people are you going to be speaking to?”

“A couple of hundred I think. From talking to Doug, some of the sessions are better attended than others at these things. But it will be a great chance to network, meet people and hear what they have to say. One of the things I am thinking about doing is working out whether I have the capacity, or indeed the inclination, to set up my own investment management firm.”

“Do you not have that already?”

“No. I just work for the two Trusts, but as an individual.”

“Do you want to set up your own firm?”

“I am unsure. Part of me wants things to stay the way they are, working away with the two Trusts, but the truth is as CMS is nearly fully invested, I have more time. I have two people working for me, Morag and Gordon, and between them a lot of the initial review of investment proposals is covered. They are now doing a first review of submissions from our investees and then we sit down and compare what they think with what Doug and I have focused on. And they are getting much better. But by training them, and getting them to do more of the basic analysis, it means I have more time. So I have been thinking about it. And I confess that the idea of my name above the door appeals to me. It would be a challenge but I am pretty confident. Doug is counselling me as usual so it is not likely to start any time soon but the thought is there.”

“Wow, I remember how much work CMS was even just a couple of years ago. That is quite the turnaround.”

And that was the thing, they had been such babes in the wood when they started. Without the guidance from Doug Somers they would have blown the lot. And yet three years later Leslie was thinking of expanding. His friends had continued to grow while Andrew was at university. Without being able to ask Julian about the computer company, or companies, he instead asked him about his latest forays into ballroom dancing.

“Shut up, you arse. That was two years ago. We have become a bit more sporty.”

“Doing what?”

Julian looked at Leslie, Maggie and Tony.

“Well we have taken up tennis, now we are crap but it is good fun. And we are becoming more serious hill walkers. The four of us have been pretty good about getting out for a day every other weekend. And since talking to Suzanne about working up north and seeing the impact of our investments, we often look at and talk about what we see when we are driving to some of the hills.”

Much as Andrew wanted to take this piss out of them it actually seemed a good idea.

“I went with Leslie when she visited a possible investment in Thurso. I sat in the local library working on some routines, thinking about how to code some things rather than just jumping straight in. And then once she was finished we found a B&B and explored a bit over the weekend. It gets us out the office.”

Leslie laughed ruefully.

“We both sit at desks all day, and I had put on nearly 10 pounds and fatty over there had put on 15. Too much sitting still and not enough exercise. And Maggie and Tony kept telling us it was incredibly relaxing. So we get out more. And they are right. It is lovely being out in the mountains and just enjoying Scotland’s beauty. We spend time together, both as a couple and the four of us. And the great thing is sometimes we chat as we walk, but a lot of the time we walk in silence just revelling in the stillness, the quiet. We get out and see the country and we have lost a few pounds as a bonus. The best part is that we will see occasional people but a lot of northern Scotland is just empty. We did one walk, and alright the weather was crap, but we saw five people in eight hours.”

Maggie added to Leslie’s comments.

“You have talked about setting up a routine, well we have done the same. Every other Sunday come rain or shine.”

She had been remarkably patient.

“Tell us about your house. How is life as a commuter?”

Tony smirked as Maggie burst into a huge smile.

“Commuting is meh, I sit and look at some of the reports that Alex has prepared for us or I just read the paper. It isn’t too long, only 40 minutes. I bought a season pass on the first day and I don’t worry about it. Tony normally collects me at the station. But the house.”

Her smile got wider still.

“The house is everything I ever dreamed of. We didn’t have the big, traditional wedding, just copied Leslie’s idea for the registrar’s office but I didn’t care. I had long ago given up the dream of the big white wedding. Instead my dream was of a lovely big house and it is everything I wanted and more. The space is fantastic, although a pain in the arse to keep dusted. Leslie and Julian talk about living in their house for 50 years and Tony and I can see ourselves doing the same thing. It is perfect.”

“How is your commute Tony?”

“Arse. Longer than when I lived in the flat above the shop but only just. We talked at Christmas about how I figured I would need a studio manager or administrator sooner rather than later. Well the hiring committee found me someone.”

“The hiring committee?”

“Maggie, Elspeth and Alex.”

Tony laughed.

“I wasn’t allowed to be involved. They interviewed a whole bunch of people and so we now have a studio manager. Sheila is a former conference organiser at a hotel in Kirkcaldy. She got laid off when they closed it for refurbishment. And she is the right person for the job, polite, kind even, but with a backbone. She knew about the kind of photography we do, but her face was a picture when she met the first model. Now she doesn’t give it a second thought. It is a job, and one that pays well. In Kirkcaldy things are tight at the moment. She is never in the studios during a shoot so it isn’t an issue.”

Suzanne looked interested at that last part of Tony’s chat.