Chapter 10

Andrew didn’t even exercise before getting Suzanne up and out for the Tube. He took the Tube with her to Green Park where she could change for the line out to Heathrow. He watched her get onto the train safely before returning back to Baker Street. That week was the quietest and dullest of the whole summer at work. There was not a lot of people around, between summer holidays, the additional deployment to West Germany and unexpected demands locally. The first two days were spent assisting with the writing up of the inspection report for Fort Halstead but the rest of the week was gophering in the office. Nothing of consequence happened. Until Friday lunchtime.

Andrew had taken advantage of the easy time at work to swim longer and was going through a lot of film. After swimming he would walk round the centre of London, Trafalgar Square, sometimes Covent Garden, most days along the Thames, just looking for quirky views, the way shadows played across the buildings. He spent a lot of time trying different settings, often taking the same shot four or five different ways. He was rapidly filling up the notebook with all the notations from his different shots.

Andrew had stopped and shopped for the ingredients for lentil soup on the Monday evening and enjoyed having some for breakfast. It brought back memories of both Edinburgh, when he lived at home as well as Peggy’s Café in Cambridge. Andrew’s life was filled with routine, and when something slotted back into this routine, in this case something as simple as lentil soup for breakfast, it had a calming and positive effect. Plus it was good for him.

When Andrew returned from his photo trips in the evening he would chat to Jim and Freya for a little while and then go to his room and spend the rest of the evening programming. Now he had been enjoying the challenge of creating something for the first time in a while but it took on a renewed impetus when he received a thick letter from Maggie. It was waiting for him when he returned to the flat on Tuesday evening. After he had read it, and before he even thought through all the things that Maggie had talked about, Andrew considered the sender. When Andrew had first met Maggie she was a secretary in the typing pool at the City of Edinburgh Council, the local municipal authority. Maggie had left school at 17 with a collection of mediocre academic exam results and when she and Andrew first met she was also a part-time nude model. Andrew had been completely guilty of judging her on those facts. That she was also significantly busty and pretty to boot didn’t help that perception. But over the intervening years all those perceptions and assumptions had been shattered. Maggie Fife was a pretty woman with big tits that did not go onto further education. That was true but Maggie was also a very clever woman. Andrew had no idea why she did so badly at school because she was clearly capable of achieving much more. She had been promoted twice already at the Council and helped Tony with his shop, and the expanding businesses. And it was this expansion that she had referenced in her letter.

Maggie had not prepared a structured business plan, as Andrew had seen at all the investment meetings, but she had outlined a lot of the issues and solutions in a narrative form. Andrew re-read the document with the mindset he had when he was sitting with Leslie and Doug. Maggie had obviously talked to a lot of people, that came through in the document. But the core focus was on expanding Tony’s business and doing so profitably. It made fascinating reading. When Andrew was finished reading it through a second time he could see that Tony and Maggie wanted to expand the business. It was clear he would be having a long conversation with the two of them when he was in Edinburgh for his kilt fitting. What it did was provide a jolt to his coding efforts. He worked late most nights that week revelling in getting back into the creative process. So overall it was a calm, easy going week. Friday lunchtime his day job intruded and all that changed.

“Jock, you had better come with me, something has come up.”

He followed Vestie into Lester’s office.

“There you are. Right, Vestergaard, McLeod you have an assignment for the next two weeks. BUTEC have been on the phone. There have been some suspicious incidents as well as some unusual readings from their sensors. Turbulent is scheduled to be there next month. The Navy is sending additional support to sweep the area from their side of things. I want you two to go there and investigate the sightings, look for any evidence of the Soviets, check out the shore facilities. Questions?”

Andrew had no idea what Lester was talking about but at least Vestie asked rather than him.

“BUTEC is at the arse end of the world in Scotland somewhere, isn’t it? And we don’t have a detachment there, do we?”

“No we don’t. And it is in Kyle of Lochalsh on the west coast near the Isle of Skye I believe. Here is there number. Give them a call and make the arrangements.”

They walked back to the main room and the questions started. Both ways. Andrew got his in first.

“What is BUTEC? He said something about Turbulent like it was a thing. What is it?”

“BUTEC is a Navy Test Range, the British Underwater Test and Evaluation Centre. They check submarines and torpedoes and stuff like that up there. It is all very hush hush. HMS Turbulent is the newest nuclear attack submarine in the Navy. The Navy are always concerned that the Russians are sniffing around up there. But it tends to be that they get a sniff of a Russian sub and they deal with it themselves. There are several control stations around the range and it sounds like there has been some issues there. That will be our main focus. Well my main focus, you can drive the LandRover.”

Andrew groaned and Vestie laughed.

“Alright, my turn. Where the hell is Kyle of Lochalsh. Get the atlas out and let’s figure out how the hell we are going to get there.”

Kyle of Lochalsh is on the west coast of Scotland roughly parallel with Inverness, and it was not the easiest place to get to. The train took hours and went north and then back south before heading west, the road also took hours and, just to be different, went south, back north and then west. It was about the most difficult place to get to on the UK mainland. They would have to fly to Inverness and then choose the next stage of the journey. Three hours by train, two hours by car; it seemed to make sense to drive there. Especially if they had to visit these range control buildings, wherever the hell they were. The atlas showed very few roads, even fewer towns of any size and the area either side of the range, which Vestie had roughly marked appeared to be completely desolate.

Susan had looked up flights for them and there was a Dan-Air flight from Heathrow that got into Inverness mid-morning. Vestie called the MoD Police detachment at Fort George and arranged for that detachment to lend them a LandRover. Someone would meet them at the airport which was only a couple of miles from the barracks. At this rate they should get into Kyle of Lochalsh early afternoon. It was all settled.

“Lester told us we would be there two weeks, yes?”

Vestie nodded.

“Will we work the middle weekend?”

“Shouldn’t think so. Why?”

“I am supposed to be in Edinburgh, getting a kilt fitting of all things for a wedding. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Vestie shrugged in a manner Andrew was very familiar with.

“Don’t see why not. How far is Edinburgh?”

“Four hours, maybe even more. I will leave on the Friday and just get up early on the Monday morning.”

“Sure. Unless we find the Russians then all bets are off.”

They both laughed but it didn’t stop Andrew crossing his fingers. When he got back to the flat that night he let Jim and Freya know he was scheduled to be away until Friday the 7^th. Leslie was coming down by train for the Queen concert during the day on the Friday and was staying there in the other guest room that night after the gig. Andrew had Jim’s stag do, which he knew nothing about, on the Saturday. And he was, as Vestie put it, going to be at ‘the arse end of the world’.

“I am working in a remote location so I hope there will be no issue getting back in time for the gig on Friday, which will mean that Saturday will be fine. If it starts to look like I won’t get back in time then I will call and let you know.”

“They really have sent you all over the place, haven’t they?”

“More than I expected but it is what it is. I have had a job and it has been interesting for the most part. It is the uncertainty over other events in my life that is the concern. If I knew that we were going to be done on the 7^th at lunchtime in time to get back here for the gig then I would be fine. It is the doubt and uncertainty that is the problem. Let me get changed and then we can go for dinner.”

Andrew tried to give Freya and Jim their space during the week but at least once a week the three of them went out for dinner together. When they got to the Italian restaurant round the corner the owner was desolate that Suzanne was not with them. Later they were in the drawing room drinking whisky and chatting.

“Before I forget, are there any details that you can share about the stag do Jim? Do we have to wait until Freya is out of the room?”

“Hardly. It is at the In & Out on Piccadilly, meeting in the bar there at 7.00. Norman is a member and will sign us in.”

“Sorry, what is the In & Out?”

“Oh, it is the nickname of the Naval & Military Club. You will understand when we get there. It has had full women members for nearly 20 years so I am allowed to attend. I think the wedding would be called off if we went to White’s.”

“They don’t have women members?”

“Most of the clubs don’t have women members. It is an anachronism left over from the past. I was about to say the Victorian Era but the worst of them are from the time of George the Third.”

“Oh.”

Groucho had it right.

Standing at Paddington Station the next morning Andrew got to see the real Abigail Wilson for the first time. She bounded off the train and seemed to be full of beans. Abigail stood 5’8” tall and had a nice body. She did not have long legs or a big arse, anything like that. She was clearly all woman but it was modest and in proportion, although as she came closer he could see she dressed to minimise her chest. What made her stand out was her face. She was eye-catchingly attractive. And this was not just Andrew that found her attractive, she drew attention wherever she went. Goodness only knows what the Computer Science Department made of her. But with all woman that Andrew found attractive there was an intelligence about her. Some of that was self-evident in that there was no one at Cambridge who was an idiot, but there was a smartness about her. Even when he thought she didn’t like him he was under no doubt that she was a clever woman. As Andrew stood there he was very mindful that he was the lucky schmuck this beautiful woman was coming to see. He didn’t need to stand any taller but did so anyway. After she kissed him he felt ten feet tall.

When she asked what the plans for the day were, Andrew told her that the choice was hers. After a little humming and hawing she settled on the Science Museum and so they spent more than four hours going from gallery to gallery geeking out. Andrew had spent a couple of hours there one day killing time at an Imperial interview, or Open House, but it was always better to go round a museum with someone else. That it was a beautiful woman just helped. It made him think of the day at the Louvre with Heloise.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Walking here today made me think back to my day at the Louvre with Heloise. It seems I don’t visit museum and galleries unless I am with a beautiful woman.”

“How am I meant to respond to that Andrew? Goodness.”

Abigail had learned the arm whack quickly enough. They chatted away about the exhibits as they walked round the galleries. After four hours they were scienced out and headed north towards Hyde Park.

“Where else did you apply to, other than Trinity? I applied here but they were miffed that I put Trinity ahead of them and I don’t think they took the application seriously.”

“Oh, I didn’t apply to Imperial or Oxford. I was told it was pointless to put them anything other than first. I had UMIST (the University of Manchester Institute of Science and Technology) and Leeds as my second and third choices. If Bristol wasn’t so close I might have applied there but it just seemed too close to home. Where did you apply?”

“Trinity, Imperial and University College in that order. Maybe it was the other way round with the two London universities but it doesn’t matter. I didn’t get any warnings about certain places being upset about not being number one on your list. I am surprised I was even interviewed at the two London universities. When I got here I was given pretty short shrift. It was just as well for me that Trinity went so well. It was far and away my clear first choice.”

“It was first for me too but I would have been fine with UMIST. Now that I am there I love it. But all Computer Science Departments are evolving so fast that it is difficult to know which ones are going to be as good by the end of your degree. The transition from a mainframe based course to a microcomputer course is happening as we are learning it. That was why I was so surprised that you knew some of the stuff that I was talking about last year. Plus you have your own personal computer which looks as upgraded as possible. I doubt many 4^th years have as good a machine.”

It was too soon to share anything else, but Andrew was tempted.

“What I have found though is that top of the range one year is old news the following year. The speed of change and advancement is crazy.”

“That is true. I remember how excited we were with some of the computers at school and now wouldn’t touch them.”

Andrew was pretty sure he was going to tell Abigail the truth, and probably soon after they returned to Cambridge but right then it felt too significant of a revelation. Plus if his instincts were wrong then it would make things very awkward at Cambridge. So he kept silent; still more secrets. They were in Hyde Park now just strolling enjoying the sunshine. As always, Andrew had pulled his hat out to shield his head, neck and face.

“Do you mind me asking about your cancer Andrew?”

“No, like I said last month, people our age don’t see cancer much. It tends to be aged relatives that get cancer. So I don’t mind you asking.”

“I know this will sound silly, but what was it like?”

“I will answer your questions if you want Abigail, but are you sure you want to hear the answers?”

She looked shocked.

“Why?”

“I am going to talk about children dying. Because more than anything else that was what it was like.”

All she did was nod, with very wide eyes.

“One of the things I found when I talk about this, and I talk about it frequently, is that I sometimes struggle to remember how I really felt as opposed to how I think I should have felt. For instance I was not the brave stoic child inspiring those around him. At least not at the start. I was a scary, whiny, self-absorbed little git. Sure I had an excuse but I did not handle the middle part well.

“I had skin cancer in the small of my back, you have seen the scars. They thought they caught it early but surgery did not remove all the cancer cells and I had follow up radiation treatment. This was when I started to worry. They had found the cancer over the summer, round about now actually, and the surgery was performed by the beginning of September. By the end of September I was in the Sick Children’s Hospital in Edinburgh for the radiation treatment. I was in and out of there for eight weeks. This is the pathetic whiny stage but it is also where the reality of what I was facing hit home. I was lying there receiving treatment, we all were getting treatment. I saw the same doctors giving the same treatment to the other kids and some recovered whereas others, they didn’t get better, instead they died. I saw children fade away in front of me. They were removed to a private room or hospice before the end but it was seeing us all get the same treatment and some children not make it that really hit home. When the radiation didn’t work then I needed chemotherapy. This was administered at the main city hospital, the Royal Infirmary. I was in an adult ward but there was only one other person within 15 years of my age there, Leslie’s sister Faith. And that is where I spent two months, being poisoned by the chemo, that is what chemotherapy is, carefully administered doses of poison.

“During that time I was befriended by the two of them, distracted by the two of them, in very memorable ways and it changed my life. It changed Leslie’s life but it didn’t change Faith’s life. I look back on that time as when I changed, I grew up. I started to live my life to the full, but it can never be anything but a terrible time. I found out I was cancer free the same day that Faith found out she was going to die. We found out on Friday January 26^th 1979, I spoke to her for the last time, said goodbye to someone for the first time, on Wednesday January 31^st and she was dead four days later.”

Abigail was crying but she had wanted to know. And Andrew didn’t even get into the final terrible days. He put his arm round her shoulder as they continued to walk and Abigail leaned against him, regaining her composure.