Chapter 14

“I can agree with that, Mr Robertson. You certainly widen the scope of our historical studies. That is indicative of reading widely, and not just abiding by the set textbooks. I approve of giving the subject more intense scrutiny. We can all benefit from a deeper understanding of events.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The lecturer addressed the whole class. “Which brings me to those of you who have not even absorbed the set textbooks. I have to say that merely listening to me lecture is insufficient to do well in this course. I expect you all to investigate the subject further. Our examinations are not intended to see whether you can repeat what you have heard and read. The university wants to see that you have THOUGHT about what you have studied, and are able to draw appropriate conclusions as a result, both positive and negative. Mr Robertson has this aptitude, and I hope to see the rest of you apply yourselves in the same way.

I want you to be able to argue AGAINST the accepted version of historical truth. Seek out facts that do not accord with the norm, the view of history that everyone regards as accurate. If you can show that parts are inaccurate, with documented proof, that will gain you better marks than spouting a rehashed version of accepted normality.

Here’s an assignment for tonight: Describe submarines with steam engines as motive power, and say why this was a bad idea, but give a rationale for their introduction. I can assure you that such a design did exist. Good day to you, ladies and gentlemen.”

That evening, Reg was asked about this assignment.

“Why the heck would you want a submarine with a steam engine, Reg? It doesn’t make sense! A steam engine needs air to function, and the minute you submerge, you can no longer use the steam engine.”

Reg smiled gleefully. “You have just answered your own question. These submarines were not designed to be submarines in the accepted way. They were intended as fast delivery systems for torpedo attacks, so a variety of torpedo boat. The most powerful engines to get fast speeds from was the steam engine – actually the steam turbine - and speed was seen as paramount, to have a good chance of releasing a torpedo at an effective range. The submarine hull was regarded as low enough in the water to nearly hide it at a distance, except for one major design fault.”

“What was that, Reg?”

“A steam engine emits smoke, not just steam, does it not? So you could spot such a submarine by the emitted smoke. These subs had two smoke funnels, which were supposed to fold down for submerging. Can you imagine the time needed to close off the funnel holes in the hull, then fold down the funnels to the horizontal, and finally the drag that these funnels must have imposed on the sub? The whole concept was mad, obviously devised by a surface ship mariner.”

The girls who were in the history class had great fun writing their assignment, poking fun at the Royal Navy of the early 20th century, when the mad specifications from on high had to be turned into a workable ship design.

Next day, Prudence was preparing to leave her maths class when she got a message on her phone, asking her to report to her academic mentor, Mrs Geraldine Compton, as soon as possible. Curious at this request, she texted back agreement to meet right after lunch, and that was quickly agreed.

Getting to Mrs Compton’s office, she reported her presence and was invited to enter, close the door, and sit down.

She did so, unsure about what the reason for the call-in was. She was soon apprised of that.

“Prudence, A message has been passed to me to the effect that there has been an anonymous complaint that you have been cheating in some classes.”

“Beg pardon? Cheating? In what way?”

Mrs Compton was sympathetic to her. “The complaint was unclear, and as it was anonymous, it was impossible to get back and clarify the facts; assuming there were in fact facts.”

“But ma’am, there is no NEED for me to cheat in any of my classes. I have been improving my results as a direct result of tutoring in the evenings. I am getting the hang of some aspects of my subjects that puzzled me before, thanks to Reg.”

“Reg? Who is Reg, Prudence?”

“He is my tutor, ... and my boyfriend as well, ma’am.”

“You have a boyfriend? This is new. You never mentioned this before, Prudence.”

“He is new, ma’am. His name is Reginald Robertson, and he is a whiz at most subjects. He is a great teacher. He makes it easy to understand some of the more difficult aspects.”

“Robertson? I don’t recall a Robertson on the staff roll.”

“Oh, he is not staff, ma’am. He is one of the students. You might have heard him mentioned as ‘Lonesome Reg’.”

“Oh, that boy? The lecturers were worried that he might be a total misfit, but the word is that he is good at his studies, even if he is a bit of a loner.”

“He is not a loner now, ma’am. Several of us have taken him under our wings to teach him social skills, and he tutors us in return.”

“That sounds most admirable, Prudence; so why would someone put in a complaint about you?”

“Oh. I suddenly twigged as to who it might be.”

Mrs Compton was interested in this revelation. “And who do you think it is, and why?”

“Beth Templeton. She and I both asked to join the study group a while back. She was the one who pushed me into asking. I was eventually accepted, but Beth was ignored – and quite rightly, too; she wouldn’t have fitted in.

She probably was fizzing over that rejection, and is now trying to get her own back at me by making this complaint. I can’t think of who else it could be; I don’t have enemies that I know of.”

“I see. Can you leave this with me, Prudence? Don’t say a word to anyone, please.”

Prudence went off to her next class.

Shortly afterwards, Beth received a message on her phone, to go meet with a Mrs Compton at her office. She shrugged to herself, not having heard of Mrs Compton, made an excuse to her lecturer, and made her way to the specified office.

Knocking on the door and opening it, she announced, “Beth Templeton to see you, Ma’am. You wanted me for something?”

“Ah, yes. Come in, Beth and sit down. Now, let me see ... oh, yes. I have to inform you that your complaint about Miss Prudence Gower has been rejected. That is all.”

“What? My complaint? But that was anonymous!”

“Really? How would you know it was anonymous, Beth, unless you sent it?”

“Ah, well, you see...” she was racking her brain for an acceptable reason, and failed to come up with one except, “A girl asked me to put it in!”

“Come, come, Beth. If a girl wanted an anonymous complaint put in, she could surely do that herself! It would be pointless asking someone else to do so. Anyway, your complaint was so non-specific that it would be impossible to investigate properly. Next time you wish to submit a complaint, be exact in your allegations: time and place, and names of anyone involved. We need such details to investigate an allegation.

You are at university, Beth. I would expect a much higher quality of work, even a spurious allegation from you or any other student. You have displayed little imagination or even effort. I have made a remark on your record about poor quality work on complaining. This may affect your degree, unless you can work hard on your subjects to improve your own results.

Do I make myself clear, young lady?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Right. Off you go, and try to act more grown-up in future. Even if you turn out to be a ne’er-do-well, I would hope you would at least be a well-educated ne’er-do-well. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Ma’am.”

Beth left with as much dignity as she could manage. Shocked though she was, she was conscious that she had got off lightly. She could have been sent down, at worst, for criminal actions. Perhaps she would take Mrs Compton’s words to heart.

Mind you, Prudence was not really worth it, after all; sucking up to that loner boy. That would have been a loser strategy, she concluded. Prudence can be dropped now as a loser herself. Who would want that tall, skinny, ordinary-looking girl, anyway? She had nothing going for her, did Prudence.

Beth decided she was better off by herself. She could always get a man, if she wanted one. She laughed to herself at prudent Prudence: keeping herself intact for that special man! She would never find him, Beth just knew.

Mrs Compton sat back, pondering these recent events. Complaining because she wasn’t accepted into a study group? That sounded weird. Why would a girl like Beth Templeton want into a study group, in the first place? She was not a high flier, and looked like a girl happy to get any kind of degree pass, preferably if she can get a man at the same time.

And then there was Prudence Gower herself. Very tall, thin and not too good looking to boot, but with nice hair: what did she have going for her, that a study clique would accept her? A good brain, was the only thing she could think of.

Mrs Compton looked up Prudence’s records. Yes, she was doing all right, but could do better. That study group probably would be useful to her. Odd that she didn’t give me any details of the study group, such as who was in it.

Out of sheer determination to know more, she rang one of the lecturers that she knew; a man who taught history.

“Tom, Prudence Gower: she is in your class, isn’t she?”

“Prudence? Certainly is, my dear Geraldine. What do you want to know about her? Tall skinny girl, as I recall, but has a brain.”

“Yes, that’s her. Seems she has joined a study group. Do you know anything about that group, Tom?”

“Not really. I have heard a little about it, on the student grapevine. It seems to be very limited and informal, but it has had some good effects. Reginald Robertson, our class loner, got involved with it; and since then, he has come out of his shell a lot more. He is interacting with other students more than he used to, but mostly with several girls who were not exactly loners, but perhaps lonely because they did not have good looks facially.