Chapter 6

Andrew’s backpack, bag, garment bag and computer box fitted easily onto a trolley. While Leslie parked the car he went to the Bursar’s office and collected his key. The small queue was dealt with in their usual efficient manner, he received an even thicker packet of forms than his 1^st year and was back in Great Court within five minutes of arriving. When Leslie turned up they headed over to his new room. New Court is the third, smallest and least grand of the main Courts at the College. But Andrew’s room was the same distance from Hall as the previous year just from another direction. With the two of them it was only one trip and he was now a resident for the rest of the academic year in room 8 of Staircase F. They got everything into the room before returning back into the windy autumn day.

“Do you want to come over to Hall, grab something to eat?”

“I think I am going to pass Andrew? I would rather grab something on the go and just head home. We were lucky with traffic this morning and I would rather just head back than loiter here if that is alright.”

“Of course. Thanks for driving with me, and for taking the car back. It is a long day for you. Use the car this term if you want, otherwise it will sit and gather dust, just like the flat.”

“I may take you up on that. Mine is on its last legs and it will give me the chance to look at lots of options before getting something new.”

“Estate car for all those children?”

She looked him straight in the eye.

“Yes.”

Andrew gulped and then Leslie winked at him. Play with matches...

“Come on walk me out, you big kid.”

With final thanks and a big hug Leslie left to retrieve the car and head back to Edinburgh. He was so incredibly lucky to have a friend like her, prepared to face a 14 hour day to get him to university. With a final smile he turned back. Andrew stood near the NE corner of Great Court and soaked in the view, the happy sense of returning. After a few moments he went to Hall to have lunch and see who was around. It was Fresher’s week all over again. Justin and his parents were sitting with Nigel and his mum, they had all arrived within an hour of each other. Then the Spanish Armada attacked.

“Andrew!”

“Good to see you Pedro. How was your summer?”

“Mixed. Some good, a lot of boring, strangest thing was not to be near the sea. With Papa’s job we have lived on the ocean my whole life. Being hundreds of kilometres from the ocean was disconcerting, and it was so surprising. You?”

“Mostly boring. File clerk in an office, summer relief for holidays, you know the standard student summer job.”

Well, there was a big, fat lie to start the day.

“Did you work?”

“Waiter at a couple of tourist places near the Prado.”

He laughed.

“I got paid to flirt with American tourists all summer. Good times.”

Pedro had learned. Two words summarising a summer of shagging. They shared a knowing grin and grabbed some food and wandered over to sit beside Nigel and Justin.

“Do we all need to come and help unload the car?”

Even Mrs. Black-Gilchrist laughed at that one. Nigel grinned ruefully.

“Shut up. Scottish git.”

Lunch was all about catching up, finding out about everyone’s summer. Afterwards Nigel left to walk his mum back to her car. No one gave him shit as it was just the two of them. Justin hugged his mum and shook hands with his dad and they left. Long drawn out farewells were becoming ever rarer.

“How was the US?”

Might as well get the elephant out of the room.

“Good and bad.”

Justin sighed.

“It will be a long year but we will get through it. Anyway, it was a good time. Her parents were very welcoming, we went up to Rhode Island to see Brown University. We just spent a lot of time hanging out at the beach, easy going summer. I am lucky, Dad funded me all summer, I didn’t have to work. So, let’s get the where are we all living now conversation out the way. I scraped into Whewell’s across the road. I saw Emma hauling her stuff in this morning so she is over there as well but I don’t know where. What about you guys?”

Pedro answered first.

“C7 in New Court, West Wall right above the gate out to Burrell’s Field and the Backs.”

A noisy location. Lots of talking, stumbling around, foot traffic.

“Will you be okay? I have heard they are rough.”

“I know that Andrew used headphones last year with the noise on Trinity Street, so I will do that if it is too much of a disturbance. I am less worried about the evenings and more about when I am trying to concentrate. What about you Andrew?”

“F8 in New Court. On the south wall near the corner. There is the lane to Trinity Hall outside, so I think I will have the same issues as you. But it won’t be as bad as last year, and I am used to sleeping with headphones on. Anyone else?”

“Under 100 on the ballot and you had a chance of a room here. Over 100 and you are all but guaranteed to be out at Burrell’s. Nigel, Navya and Malcolm are all there, at least according to Nigel. It is only five more minutes to walk, it is not a big deal. Next year, we might just luck out and stay over here as we pick before the 2^nd years even although our numbers will be higher.”

Worrying about the ballot and your room was a year-round activity. The thing was Andrew didn’t need to worry. When he had returned from West Germany at the beginning of August there had been a letter waiting for him from Trinity. He had been awarded a First for his first year. Cambridge awards a degree grade for each year, and it always takes a bit of explaining but the bottom line was that Andrew had done well in his 1^st year exams. It was a relief and he thought no more of it. There had been something attached saying he would be awarded a scholarship as a result but he remembered shrugging at the time. The money would be nice but he was embarrassingly blasé about it.

When Andrew got back to his room that afternoon he unpacked everything from bags and boxes before looking at the large pile of forms he had received when registering. The first set was from the College, detailing all the meetings with Tutors and Director of Studies, invitations to meals, meet and greets with the new Freshers. All the usual crap when you start the year. The next pile was from the Engineering Department with the same kind of thing. An abbreviated version of the program from the previous year. Wednesday morning, they would get the timetable, lab times, again everything so that come Thursday morning they were straight into classes. The last envelope was by far the fanciest and Andrew would have opened it first but for it being at the bottom of the pile. It was from the College letting him know that he was being awarded a Senior Scholarship. Junior Scholarships are awarded for obtaining a First in any year of study. Now Trinity is stuffed full of scarily smart people so there are a large number of Firsts awarded. But if you did particularly well in your exams or on your course then the College could award a Senior Scholarship. Andrew had come top in Engineering at Trinity in his first year but more importantly he had come joint top in the whole University. Therefore he was worthy of a Senior Scholarship. All this brought him up short.

Andrew lay on his bed for quite a while thinking about the previous year. Had he been over the top in his studying? He had tried to be rigorous and consistent but still did a lot of external activities, hockey, Addenbrooke’s, OTC, modelling, it wasn’t as if he was a hermit. But the converse was that he never switched off, relaxed, blew off a day, slept in, did any crazy three-day trips to wherever. Just like school there were always tales on Mondays of exploits from the previous weekends. Andrew tended not to have exploits. Okay he had to admit to himself that last sentence was utter bullshit but he did wonder if he was being enough of a student. He talked about the course as his job, and he put the hours in. Andrew lay there, his thoughts confused. He was proud of what he had achieved but did wonder if he had unknowingly sacrificed something to achieve this. Mhairi’s warning about the withdrawal effects of not having to study sprang to mind. He was less stir crazy if he had nothing to do but still was not able just to lounge around and do nothing.

Andrew pushed this introspection aside and read the rest of the letter and material in the envelope. There was a ceremony the following Wednesday evening where he would be one of many being admitted into the Foundation of the College. The ceremony was in the Chapel and included signing a declaration of loyalty to the College. So this was all very nice and typically Cambridge but possibly the biggest perk of being a scholar was you picked first in the ballot, senior scholars before junior ones. Next year he would have his pick of the rooms at College. Andrew shook his head, one more thing he would not boast about.

He tidied all the accumulated paper and mapped out a quick calendar for the next two days, surprisingly empty on Tuesday morning but full between the College in the afternoon and the Department on the Wednesday. He was finishing connecting his computer, the last thing he needed to do, when there was a knock on the door. Andrew was bent over trying to get a balky connector to seat properly and so shouted ‘come in’ as he fiddled with the cable. When he finally stood up he came face to face with Beth. He managed to recover his manners and introduce himself. Elizabeth Caverly was a goth, clothes were all black, her hair was black, her make-up was black. She had very pale skin, even paler than his, and her appearance in his room startled him. Andrew invited her to take a seat and they did a quick meet and greet, get the essentials out the road, figure out whether the other person was worth investing any more time in.

Beth, as she pointedly insisted she be called, was a 3^rd year Archaeology student specialising in Mesopotamia and Babylon. She was from Royal Tunbridge Wells in Kent, and yes there were two places in the UK where the name of the town had Royal as a prefix. She was disappointed that the person opposite her on the landing was a male, but did recognise that the stairs were mixed. She had been out at Burrell’s Field the previous year and was glad to be back in the main part of the College. The people who stayed at Burrell’s Field fell into two categories. Those like Beth who thought it was at the edge of the universe and hated being out there and those like Matt who despite having had a ballot number of 9 was happy to stay in the more modern accommodation and didn’t care about the extra five-minute walk. There was no in between, you either loved it or hated it. Beth was very much in the hated it camp.

Andrew gave her the one minute version of his life without going into any details, which was what this meeting was all about. She was reading ancient history and archaeology, hated rock and was into punk and post-punk, whatever that was, and underneath all the makeup was a bit of a snob. It was all very pleasant but within five minutes he knew they were not going to be sitting chatting of an evening. An acquaintance and nothing more. Once she left Andrew headed out to see who else was around. He grabbed a textbook to read if there was no one about and after a quick once round Great Court settled down on the South Paddock, pulled his hat on his head and tuned the world out. For all of 15 minutes.

“Fuck sake, stop studying.”

Well hello Matt.

“Hey Matt, how’s things?”

“I am going to throw that book in the river, you too.”

“Just killing time until someone showed up, that’s all. How was West Germany?”

Andrew’s reading was immediately forgotten.

“You’ll never believe it, Jack scored.”

“No!”

“I know, right? It was hilarious. She was six feet tall, strong, and black as night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, the little runt scored with this American college girl. She saw us taking the piss as usual as he crashed and burned and she took pity on him. We didn’t see him for 18 hours. And when they parted it wasn’t ‘you pathetic little boy’, she was all over him. She looked genuinely upset. He was fucking insufferable after that.”

“We’ll have to hear about it every week for the whole year. We better warn all the black women in Cambridge, he’ll never leave them alone now.”

They spent a happy half hour taking the rip out of Jack. OTC was going to be a laugh that term. A few more people started to wander over and so they cleaned up their act, at least a little. As Andrew lay there on the lawn, chatting away to various people it was meet and greet all over again. Now most of them knew each other, at least superficially, but this time it was what did you do all summer, and most importantly where were you. He could see the next couple of days taxing his patience but it was inevitable.

As the group splintered Andrew headed back to his room telling Matt he would see him at dinner. When he got to the staircase there was a strong sense of déjà vu, two trolleys loaded with bags sat at the doorway. As it turned out one of them had a partial excuse. Trevor Jenson was an American who Andrew had met the previous year, often in the bar talking to Nigel. He lived in Los Angeles and so had a bit of a pass for having too much stuff with him. He was on the first floor opposite the owner of the other trolley. Trevor was quiet but cheery, a typical student. Percy on the other hand was, well words failed Andrew sometimes. Percival Leander Wight-Smythe was studying divinity, in his 3^rd year. His father, who was there with him, was also a vicar. Andrew doubted the two of them combined weighed as much as him. They were rail thin both of them. Trevor looked after his own bags while Andrew helped Percy with his. They lived in Cowes on the Isle of Wight, hence the name he guessed. Despite this being his third year, Percy seemed to have brought a lot of stuff. Andrew escaped as quickly as possible and retreated to his room. It felt good to be home. He met Matt as he came over the river and they walked over to Hall together.

“Do you think there is a parade tomorrow?”

“No idea, might as well head over there and see. Weather is still decent so if it is all locked up then we can find a bar on the way back. Rollie will pitch up if he is back, though I don’t know about Jack.”

“No way he’ll miss the chance to recount his exploits.”

“True. Early dinner and head over at 6.15?”

“Done.”

Pedro caught up to them just before they entered Hall.

“Used to be so easy, just bang on the doors in the corridor.”

Matt didn’t care but Andrew knew what Pedro meant. Even although the staircase was just a vertical corridor it felt different somehow. Different years, groups of friends already, it would take a bit of getting used to. He spotted Helena in the middle of a group so waved but didn’t head over. How this term worked for the two of them, particularly at the beginning would indicate how their friendship would last. Over one of the many swims in the summer Andrew had been a little startled to realise that every woman who he had fucked over the years was no longer in his daily life. He was on speaking and friendly terms with them, or at least he thought he was, but they had no day to day interactions. The closest had been Judy and that had only been a one night stand. How he and Helena behaved around each other was going to be a new situation for him. That night he sat and listened to Pedro strategise how to impress some new Freshers and separate them from the herd, his words. He was just a more successful Jack, a complete, inveterate womaniser. But he had a charm about him and had never been much of a bragger and now he was as discreet as Andrew. Lots of ‘just friends’ and smiles with no comments. Andrew knew that Matt and Navya had a similar relationship to his and Helena, good friends with some bed-warming on the side. After dinner they headed out to the bar, purely for reconnaissance you understand but then he was hailed.