Living Two Lives - Book 18

Chapter 1

Andrew didn’t go swimming that Sunday morning. Often, he would be returning just as Jim and Freya were heading off to church and he wanted to talk to Freya regarding dealing with questions about his summer job and security clearance. Jim was in the kitchen making the Sunday breakfast and Andrew took the opportunity to talk to Freya. He explained the questions from Sergeant Marrak and how he was unsure how to respond.

“Having a Secret clearance is not a secret, you can tell people. I am guessing that you have told no one, or very few people.”

“I signed authorisations for Mhairi and Creighton to answer questions once I submitted the original application. Since then it has just been Mhairi Connelly, and as part of the discussion about applying for an explosives licence when I would assume it would come up.”

She nodded.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you have told practically no one. After the first week at your summer job it probably was not an issue either, was it?”

“No, it was not mentioned. The fact I had ID was all that was important. I suppose the clearance was implied but nobody asked about it.”

“Exactly. It is the context, the circumstances that are the main issue. So this Sergeant asked why he had to send your uniform down to London. Did he mention Earl’s Court?”

“No.”

“Why did they send the uniform? What did you need it for?”

“I had to attend a training course and they did not want me to attend as a member of the Police, even a temporary civilian one. So they sent me as an UOTC cadet who was being trained to assist the Permanent Staff.”

It was always disconcerting to see sort-of-Auntie Freya change to senior civil servant Mrs. Moray. And yes, she had kept her former married name rather than be Lady Barnes, at least professionally.

“They sent you undercover?”

A polar bear would have thought the room cold.

“Yes. It worked. I was abused for half an hour the first morning and then ignored for the rest of the two weeks.”

She did not look convinced.

“Putting that aside for the moment I can see why you chose to keep quiet with your Sergeant. Answering that question and the 20 follow up questions would have undone everything. You did the right thing. Regardless of how fertile his imagination is, he will not have come up with anything as outlandish as the truth. So forget about him. It should be the same with officers. If any of them do something stupid or order you to tell them say that you were instructed by Brigadier Larkin not to discuss it. The officer would need to contact the Brigadier for more information.”

“And if he does?”

“Brigadier Larkin is one of the military liaison officers attached to the Defence Staff, the Armed Services component assigned to Ministry headquarters. I will send him a note requesting that all enquiries about you are stopped and I am informed.”

“That seems a little extreme.”

“Maybe, but it will refer to all summer students who are members of the TA or a UOTC. He will understand that it is to stop abuse, intentional or not, of people who work here temporarily. Anyone stupid enough to take the next step will wish they had not.”

Freya Moray could be bloody scary when she put half a mind to it.

“Thank you.”

And just like that Auntie Freya returned and they had a lovely Sunday breakfast. Once she and Jim left for church Andrew made four calls. He was lucky that Rupashi answered the phone. After quick hellos he carried on.

“I have something for you, do you have a few minutes today, before 1.45?”

“Can you not just give it to Navya?”

“Definitely not. This is for you. If I meet you at Kingsbury will people talk?”

Silence for a second.

“Yes. Okay, I will get the tube down one stop to Wembley and will meet you there at 1.30. Okay? This better be worth it.”

Time would tell. He followed this up with a quick call with his Grandma, not more than five minutes, but just keeping in touch. He managed to catch her before she set off for church herself. Duty done it was business the rest of the way. Mhairi first.

It was the small things like being able to phone her on a Sunday morning that made Mhairi more a friend than just his lawyer. Come the new year Andrew would need to be careful not to abuse this and torment one of her associates instead but they were able to chat that morning without an issue. There were four things, three from her and one from him. The agent contract was close to being ready. Marilyn Gauthier had listened to what Andrew had explained and it had been 90%+ good to go when it was received. They were dealing with the final couple of issues but it should be ready shortly, no more than a couple of weeks. The patent investigation had started, within her office at present, but they would be contacting specialists in London soon. The one thing she advised him on that morning was the Government had the right to deny a patent on national security grounds, and that he should consider that given what he was proposing to work on. It made sense but also gave him lots to think about. The explosives licence was ready to submit and Mhairi wanted to know who was going to provide references. Andrew told her he would ask Jim later and write to Superintendent Lester at the MoD Police as well. He figured a senior policeman and a Law Lord should quell any concerns. Finally it was his turn.

“I think I want to find an office for the engineering company. Somewhere in central London, small, it can be above a store. Can you start looking for me please? It would be preferable if it was tenanted for at least a year, 18 months ideally. In fact I could cope with it being rented out until the end of September 1987. 1,500 square feet, no more than 2,000. I am going to be down in London every month so am available to look at it on a Saturday.”

“Okay, I can do that. It is more instructing an estate agent than anything else. Do you want them to send the particulars to you at the College or get us to review them?”

“I know it is the expensive way but you do it please. Can you instruct them to start east of Regent Street? I swim over at Marshall Street pool, which runs parallel to Carnaby Street. I have seen ‘For Sale’ and ‘Lease’ signs when I am walking to the pool. Now I know that somewhere like Carnaby Street will be pricy but it is Soho south and east of there and I may get a bargain if it is at the edge of Soho. I am not going to open an office above a strip club but most of that stuff is at the south end. I go and see bands at the Marquee Club and it is only three blocks east of the pool. Anyway, I want somewhere central and it is an area I know.”

“Okay, we can do that. We will use the people that we leased your flat through. They were involved in the purchase all those years ago so they know me and we have done business before. It always makes a difference. I will tell them to start in the north Soho area east of Regent Street but will listen to anything else. How far out are you prepared to go?”

“You know where the house is. There is no point in looking round there or south and west. Chelsea, around Imperial, I don’t think we would find anything that would make sense price wise. They area around Marshall Street is easy walking distance from the house, but Green Park is only a couple of blocks away and if there was a direct Tube then I would consider further. Kings Cross west to Regent’s Park is probably the upper limit.”

“Okay I understand. I will keep you informed and once we have three for a short list I will send them down to Cambridge.”

“Great. Thank you for doing this on a Sunday.”

“It really is not a problem Andrew. You do it very rarely; I know that it is all but impossible for you during the week; and the truth is you have provided me with some of my most interesting professional experiences. I will never forget the model release form phone call. At Christmas you will meet the associate who will be your day to day contact. The woman that was in the office with us two weeks ago, Grace.”

Andrew didn’t see himself calling Grace on a random Sunday talking about the fine details of his modelling contract. Once he had said his goodbyes to Mhairi it was Paris next. Bugging another person at home on the weekend. With Manon Andrew had four things he wanted to talk about; Marilyn, getting copies of the latest finished products, ask about moving the Easter shoot, and then feedback on how he was doing, be it her own or others at Hermès.

“It is good to hear that you are close to signing with Marilyn Gauthier. It makes the relationship more normal. She is very well respected, although she has upset a few people in the industry by going off on her own. Still it should help you, help everyone. They are just finalising the last of the commercials and when they are done I will send you a copy of everything.”

Andrew explained his concern about his exams and wondered whether he could do two weeks of shoots at Christmas.

“I will talk to Beatrice about this. I don’t think there will be an issue but I will check with her. Two weeks solid or either side of the holiday?”

“I was very tired at the end of the week in Paris. I think two separate weeks either side of Christmas would be better.”

“Okay. That should not be a problem. If we are unable to do two shoots what will you do?”

“If it is at Easter then I will follow the contract, but it would be only eight hours a day, no overtime, because I would study in the evening. I don’t even think I could delay until summer as I only have three weeks off, if I am working again.”

Working again? Something else he would have to think about.

“But you will do a full week the same as last month if it is in January?”

“You should talk to Veronique Manon. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were with just two models, both of whom I had worked with before. You and Beatrice should look at those shoots compared to the two on the last day with Celia. Is the quality the same, the look, the chemistry? What you want from me is very reliant on chemistry with the other model, and the model being ready for what the shoot demands. I do not know if I am good enough to fake that with someone like Yvette or Giselle. So the risk of 10 shoots in five days is struggling with the chemistry. So I am prepared to do it, but Mathilde and Renee saved that week by doing extra shoots.”

There was silence.

“Sorry, I was running through all the different shoots you have done and thinking about that. I see what you are saying. Yvette and Giselle were different than some of your other issues. The first shoot with Chiara was tough and only got better later in the day. The very first day with the photos it was not until you relaxed with Heloise that we got anything useable.”

There was a tightness in Andrew’s stomach as he heard his limitations recounted. It was all true but it still had a physiological impact on him. He was almost afraid to ask his last question.

“How is the campaign going? With none of them being shown here in Britain I have no sense as to whether it is working or not. Although I did get one autograph request when I was out with Heloise.”

“I am surprised it was only one. Look, some brands have been very blatant with their commercials for many years. When we came out six months ago it had real surprise, in fact shock, value. That Heloise was the star of the first three was a really big deal. That the two of you had such chemistry sealed it. Flinging her over your shoulder and carrying her to the bed while she is smacking your derriere, it was the small things that made the difference. And sales of cologne and perfume increased compared to both earlier in the year and the same period the previous year. So it worked. Never forget that is key. The Joelle commercials were different but reinforced the message, plus made that dress a big seller. And you know how impactful the shoot with Chiara was. In many ways it was exactly the same as the other two, just a different woman, but Veronique edited it fantastically and then Chiara overdubbed the finished product. And of course the lift was just, just. It is still talked of.

“Sure the commercials were a big change for Hermès but they stayed just this side of tasteful. Sales increased and comment in the industry, in the fashion press, in the general press, it all increased. Heloise and Chiara will have told you that they made appearances on radio and television and lots of press coverage.

“The two days of shooting at Easter were rushed but we got something out of them. The shoots with Renee showed the two of you having fun. The push-ups at the end are unique. It is those little things that are the hook. They edited in some shots of you with the cologne from Christmas, where you don’t see the female model and then the next shot is Renee spider crawling under you to kiss you.

“90% of the shot is completely similar to so many others but it is those little five second, three second, snippets that make the difference. As for you in Cyprus, it is the most blatantly sexy thing I have ever seen. It is not likely to be shown until next Spring as it is selling our Summer lines. When it is shown it will make a splash. The first day in December will be with Chiara, so that we can get something else shot with her for broadcast before the Cyprus shoot is aired.

“As for the shoots last month it is very interesting to see how you react. With models like Heloise and Renee where you have chemistry you can see how you are more confident, more yourself. And there was a noticeably different way that you looked at them, behaved around them, which helped as well, not that they could not be more different. This seems like a long catalogue of all your shoots but the truth is most of them are very good and we can use them. But you have an instinct that has nothing to do with anything else. There is a creative side to you. The claw clip is a perfect example. We are going to increase the size of the range of them, bring in a lower starting price point but also look at doing a silver version, either solid or plate, we don’t know yet. And that is the bit that cemented everything Andrew. You find a fabric sample in my office and we get a campaign out of it. When you were shooting that very campaign you thought about using another Hermes product as part of the shoot. Could another model do what you are doing? Maybe but you bring all the other things. Plus you are exclusive to us which is a huge deal. No confusion thinking this is an Armani commercial, or whoever.”

She stopped for a moment and seemed to gather her thoughts.

“The short version is that we are very happy. Beatrice will confirm that to you in December. I am almost certain that we will shoot two weeks of commercials, either side of Christmas. We also will work hard to match you with models. I was about to say match you with models that you will like but you are all over the place. Mathilde, Heloise and Renee could not be three more different models. If things work out with Marilyn Gauthier then we will talk to her about the chemistry issue.”

“Thank you for letting me know. The compatibility of the models is the biggest uncertainty for me. I do not know anyone and walk into these things blind.”

Andrew really hoped that Marilyn would help alleviate some of these issues. Once he was off the phone he thought about what Manon had talked about while preparing lunch. As she had said they were happy, everything else was secondary to that key point. It was also good that two days of the December shoot were already set with Chiara and Heloise both booked.

Andrew skipped wine with lunch as he had to drive and confirmed to Freya and Jim he would be back in four weekends time. He got to Wembley at 1.20 and parked in the car park of the station, quiet as it was a Sunday. Less than five minutes later Rupashi got off a train and walked over to him. She smiled but the interaction was minimal until they were in the car.

“Thanks for understanding.”

“Things still tough?”

“No, it is just all the busybodies with nothing better to do. So why have you dragged me out here on a Sunday.”

Andrew’s mouth was suddenly dry.

“How are things with Pranav?”

Rupashi looked at him, suspicious of his answering a question with a question. Then she sighed.

“Great but yet. Look, I am going to marry the man, I can see that already.”

She sighed again.

“I just wish he would loosen up.”

The perfect opportunity.

“First of all I realise what I am giving you is beyond inappropriate. But I thought you would appreciate it.”

He handed over the package in a plain bag. Rupashi peered in the bag and dropped it in surprise.

“Andrew!”

She sneaked another peek.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you.”

Andrew still hadn’t picked up whether it was surprise or anger. He really hoped it was the former.

“Really!”

Oh, oh, it looked like it was the later. Suddenly Rupashi burst into giggles.

“How the. I mean. I can’t believe.”

At her fourth attempt she completed a sentence.

“I was at a hen party earlier in the year and I saw one of these for the first time. And do you know what went through my mind?”

Shaking her head Rupashi pulled the box with the dildo out of the bag. Andrew had stopped at Pigalle before leaving Paris two weeks earlier and picked up four. This was his first attempt at giving one as a present. Rupashi was blushing.

“This really is the most inappropriate thing. But it also will get plenty of use.”

She sheepishly laughed.

“How did you know?”

“It was a guess. The way you seemed frustrated at his lack of passion. I figured this would let you reduce any build-up of horniness.”

Rupashi said nothing but nodded, more to herself than Andrew.

“I am going to say thank you but it is never to be talked about. Ever. Especially to my little sister.”

Rupashi suddenly realised she would have to carry it back on the train. Shaking her head, she placed her hand on Andrew’s just for a moment.

“Thank you. I can’t believe you bought me a dildo.”

With that as her parting comment she was off. It had been a big risk but Rupashi hadn’t fucked Andrew eight weeks earlier without a reason. But he also knew it was utterly inappropriate. Oh well. Andrew headed back down to Marylebone Road, picked up Rollie with the minimum of fuss at Tussaud’s, and fought his way out of London. The party had obviously been a calm, sober affair as Rollie was quickly asleep and stayed that way until Andrew parked the car.

“What, we’re here already? Shit, I slept the whole way. Sorry Mac, you should have wakened me.”

“Don’t stress, you are obviously not getting any younger.”

He laughed.

“Just means I am refreshed for the College bar tonight. We walking?”

Andrew nodded and they headed back up Cherry Hinton Road into the town. They talked about the upcoming selection day and the prospects for the year ahead.

“Remind me where they sent you while we enjoyed the sunny south Wales mountains.”

Andrew pointed to their right.

“Waterbeach, about six miles that way.”

“That is so sad. Bassingbourn last year and then Waterbeach this. That must mean it is Stanford this year coming.”

“Probably knowing my luck. It might actually be there, if it is just infantry running around. Either there or Salisbury.”

“Where have you not been with the Sappers?”

“I have done Chatham and Crittenden, two trips to Perham Down, although we went to Chatham for the second half of the week one of those times, and this year the whole week at Waterbeach. First one was standard Military Plant stuff, clearing brush for helicopters, usual digging khazis, defensive revetments, berms, stuff like that. The middle two were all combat engineering, watching the exercise the first year, observing the planning the second. And then 39^th at Waterbeach are the airfield repair guys. I don’t know that they are going to send the UOTC sappers to some of the specialist works groups. If I was dreaming then I could hope for Germany, the ranges at Bergen-Hohne maybe but Stanford is more likely. I have never been asked where I would like to go, I go where they tell me.”

“You thought about getting commissioned in the Territorials at the end of this year? You could spend your 4^th year as a TA Officer rather than hang about the OTC. Well some of your TA time would be at the OTC but you know what I mean.”

“I have thought about it once or twice. The thing that has held me back is that I enjoyed my summer job and will return to work there again. The Selection Board is only three or four days but assuming I passed that I don’t know when the TACC runs, and how it would impact my summer.”

The Army Officer Selection Board is as it sounds. Four days, three nights at an estate west of Salisbury Plain where candidates were assessed for suitability as an officer. A prerequisite for going to Sandhurst. The Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst is where the Officer training for the British Army is conducted. The Regular Officer course is 44 weeks but there was a Territorial Army Commissioning Course which lasted eight weeks. Andrew’s OTC training covered the first half of that course so he would only have three or four weeks of training at Sandhurst to get his commission as a Territorial Army officer. Assuming he passed selection and the course.

“Yeah, the summer would be a write-off, though you would probably skip annual camp if necessary. The summer job that good?”

“Sure there were some boring parts but I spent five weeks in Cyprus. Beats Sennybridge.”

“True. I just wondered if you had considered it.”

“I was going to talk to the Staff, see if they could give me any idea the lag between The Board and Sandhurst. I only need the four weeks but I don’t know how often they run the course. The main course is three intakes a year, yes?”

Rollie nodded.

“With the full TACC only being eight I would assume that there are more. Yeah, you’ll need to check. I presume The Board after Michaelmas next year and then Sandhurst in the summer is the ideal.”

“Yeah I can’t attend before mid-July at the earliest.”

Andrew shook his head as if clearing his thoughts.

“All in the future. But it is still the plan so I’ll see what happens.”

“Matt doing it too?”

“Don’t think so. He didn’t join the Sapper section, he is with you in the Infantry. He has never mentioned it. I have been working towards the TA since middle of secondary school, five years now.”

Rollie peeled off into Downing and Andrew headed back to Trinity. It was late afternoon and rather than stop and start with some studying he caught up on his letters. He had called his Grandma so that was done but he wrote to all his usual correspondents. Suzanne, Nikki & Fran, Heloise, Renee, Chiara and Lilja all got variations of the same letter. He did save an envelope and stamp and put the two separate letters to Glasgow in one large envelope but it didn’t take long. There wasn’t much to write yet. Lilja and the models were more letters keeping in contact, any replies he received tended to be a lot more exciting than his studious life at Cambridge.

There was a large group at dinner, and for the first time Helena and Abi were sitting with them. There was a lot of chat back and forth and Andrew did way more listening than talking. Abi was chatting away and was perfectly friendly to him, but no more than with Nigel or Justin. As soon as dinner was over she left and joined a group of rowers heading to the College Bar. The difference to the year before was very noticeable.

“You okay?”

Helena was looking at him.

“Do you miss her?”

“She wasn’t around much in third term, she never returned my calls over the summer and that is the first time I have talked to her this year, so no. She has moved on, and without a backward glance.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. That is the right expression, moved on. Do you not feel used?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow and Helena flushed slightly.

“Okay, silly question. What about the computer?”

“It isn’t even here this term. But she hasn’t said anything to me about it or requested to use it again in the evening. It just means there are no loose ends. It was an intense six months, less really, and I haven’t really seen her much in the last six months. Anyway, enough about her. How is life as VP?”

“It was insane until classes started but it has calmed down. I didn’t see you at very many things.”

She stopped.

“I didn’t see you at anything now that I think about it.”

“I was at the Bar on Sunday night like a good returning student, sizing up all the fresh talent.”

She whacked him but it was more on the principle of the thing. What he said was 100% true.

“We must have been in different sessions for all the talks. I thought I was going to have to cut a finger and sign in blood promising not to climb on the roofs. And then Tuesday and Wednesday were busy in the department. Probably easier with English but the sign-ups and the scheduling in Engineering were brutal. And I was at Addenbrooke’s on Monday and the OTC on Tuesday as usual. I wasn’t much of a joiner even when I was a Fresher.”

They both smiled as they thought about that memorable Sunday night two years and one week earlier.

“I hear you brought your car this year.”

“Yes. It will help with all the stuff at the end of term, well really at the end of the year. But the main reason was it will let me go to London a couple of times a term to see some bands. Going to gigs is one of the things that I did when I was at school and I miss it here.”

“How did you get in? Were you not carded?”

“My friend knew the guy on the door at the place we went to. Pete had rescued the guy’s sister when she was getting hassled by a couple of Neds. That was his way of thanking us. We never got trousered so it was no big deal. Three or four beers and watch the band. What about you? Are you going to play bridge this year? Or are you tied up with all your society stuff?”

“Interesting the way you say that. I feel such an arse talking about the Union and Student Union all the time. I am constantly having to make sure people know which one I mean. But yes, I will play bridge some time. Are we all over at Justin’s as usual.”

“Chez McLeod has been added as a venue this year. I finally got a set and so it can be at mine some of the time as well.”

It was nice to sit and chat with Helena. The comfort of the familiar.

“Budge over.”

Navya had acres of space but was still bumping against him.

“I am tagging out. I need to go to the Bar for a bit. See you later.”

“See, you are driving people away.”

“Oh shut up. I want to talk to you. Matt has gone to the bar; will you walk me back to Burrell’s?”

There was an uncharacteristic quiet pensiveness to Navya.

“Should I be worried?”

“No, but not here.”

They escaped out the back of the College and headed over the Cam towards Burrell’s Field. Navya was biting her bottom lip and looking nervous.

“Okay spit it out.”

“The number of women at Trinity is increasing, and has even in the two years that we have been here. We had 40 people out yesterday for the hockey tryouts. But there is only one coach. I know that you were a coach while at school and you have your coaching certificates. I said I would ask if you would consider coaching the women’s second team. It is one step up from intra-mural. Everyone played at school, but it is more the social aspect, the camaraderie, as much as the sport. But we need a coach. As in a proper hockey coach and you are the only one anyone knows.”

Andrew had not seen this one coming. Hockey was like his double bass, something that he could do but no longer had the time for. And as always with anything in his life, it was the time aspect that would be the key. Andrew slowed his walk down as he thought about this. It was a step back, returning to something that he had given no thought to in more than two and a half years. But why not? It was a skill that he had, and he could continue to coach once graduated from university. It all came back to time.

“Training on a Wednesday evening and a match on Saturday?”

“Yes. Are you going to do it?”

“Hang on a minute, don’t get carried away. OTC is going to screw this up royally. Particularly in term two. I will miss three, maybe four Saturdays.”

“We need a coach for the Sport Union rules, someone was going on about insurance or something. If we have to do without you now and again then I hope it will fine. But the team is stillborn without you.”

It was modelling all over again. Oh well, it looked like he was coaching hockey again.

“Okay I will do it.”

 

Chapter 2

As was often the case with Andrew’s life, busy periods where there was a lot happening were followed by calmer times. Other than hockey the following two weeks were exactly that. The course forced him into this, the usual ferocious pace left little time for worrying about other things. He and Olivia studied hard including a full day on the Sunday between the two weeks. The OTC selection was a mundane necessity that proved Andrew was still fit.

The Scholarship Ceremony was much less of a mystery the second time through and he spent more time looking around at the visitors, the guests, to see who was there. There were a few families that had come to attend and he again wondered about his Grandma, and whether there was any way he could get her there. But it was a long way to come for two hours. But these thoughts kept him distracted from an otherwise long, tedious ceremony. The other thing that was noticeable was that he clearly hung out with the nerds, not that there was a shortage of them at Trinity. He was still the only Senior Scholar of his friends but nearly everyone else that Andrew was close with had been awarded a First for their 2^nd year. It cut down on the shit he took, well a little. As always, the first thing anyone said was about the bloody room ballot. Andrew tried not to be too superior as it did cross his mind as well. The ceremony was part of the history of Trinity College and he was a small part. The only other thing different in these first two weeks of term was the hockey.

There were forms to complete and his coaching certificates were checked, standard stuff. The physical certificates were in the flat in Edinburgh but the Sports Union had phoned Scottish Hockey and got confirmation. So at 6.45 on the first Wednesday he was standing at the side of one of the hockey pitches wondering why he was doing this. Andrew understood the feeling of a karmic weight lifting, often a weight he didn’t know was there. But he was feeling none of that. This wasn’t helping others like the Art College students 18 months earlier, it was thinking of others but it was tenuous. He was not sure he would have agreed if it had not been Navya that asked. That had been very clever, playing on his friendship with her. The impact on Saturday mornings was not going to be an issue for him, the matches were normally 9.00 until 10.15, it didn’t change much. The impact on Wednesday evenings was what he had been concerned about. But if he couldn’t cope studying 50 hours a week, then why did he think that 52 hours would be the difference. It gave him perspective and balance, something that Andrew constantly needed to stop backsliding into perpetual studying. So there were all the rationalisations.

And the thing was by the end of the two hours he was having fun. Andrew enjoyed coaching and 31 months after the last time he had coached all that fun came roaring back. What was also funny was it was like the second year he coached at school, lots of younger pupils. As the gender balance at Trinity continued to regularise this meant there were more Freshers than anyone else. Andrew was an insular person, friendly to people but not friends with many beyond the dozen or so that he saw regularly. It was good for him to have to exert himself socially. There were several young women that he recognised from the interviews the previous December. There were 16 players at training and before everyone warmed up he had an introductory chat. But once the bio part of the chat was dealt with he focused on what they were going to do.

“Everybody plays, I rotate my subs regularly. But I also know that there are two different groups of players here. Those that wanted to make the first eleven and are disappointed that they did not and are looking for more intense coaching in the hopes of improving and making that team. And then there are the players who are happy to be play, use this as relaxation and don’t want that level of commitment. We have two hours of training. The first hour is all of us together, team play, tactics, penalty corner routines, breakouts, all the standard drills. In the second hour I will work with the players that want more coaching. The other players will do 20 minutes of dribbling drills, 20 minutes of tackling practice and then a warm down. Questions?”

Predictable silence.

“Okay, everyone go and warm up, a couple of laps gentle pace and then we will get started. Anyone who wants the extra coaching can let me know at any point during the session.”

And so it started. There were four of the 16 that wanted to be pushed hard but the separate training never happened. Andrew just worked them harder during the two hours, made them tackle him, had them taking extra turns during some of the drills. Any initial resentment from the other players quickly gave way to gratitude for having an extra 20 seconds of rest. He made it fun but worked them hard. Afterwards there were a lot of tired women but for the most part they seemed happy. Navya, who had never said a word during the training, came up to him at the end.

“What was your team’s record the last time you coached?”

Andrew looked at her suspiciously.

“22-2 I think.”

“Well that makes sense. Andrew, we all had fun out there but bloody hell you worked us hard. Are you always like that?”

“Er. I thought I took it easy on you, it was just the first night.”

It was not just Navya that groaned. Several of the other players did as well.

“Was it too intense?”

“I don’t know that intense is the right word but it was relentless. If nothing else we are going to be the fittest team that’s for sure.”

Andrew didn’t know what to say to that. He really did think he was taking it easy with them. Oh well, he was sure he would hear about it from Navya. They all split apart as people peeled off to Burrell’s and then to their stairs at the different Courts. Navya did talk to him over breakfast both that week and the week after. Most of the players were more surprised than unhappy and Andrew tweaked the intensity of the training as he took their measure. What helped was the hopelessness of Homerton who they played that first Saturday. Getting an easy win and having some of the things that they practiced succeed quelled any last doubts. After their second game, also a victory this time over Kings, it was time for the first trip to London. Pedro and Justin were, if anything, more excited than Andrew was about the trip. They had lunch at College and then walked out to Cherry Hinton to get the car.

“Bloody hell it is worse than Girton.”

“Yeah, but it is safe and cheap. It will be worse at 2.30 in the morning or whenever we get back.”

The three of them hung out more and more. Pedro and Justin trolled the College Bar and clubs acting as each other’s wingman. Andrew knew he was fundamentally lazy and could not be bothered with the chase. Instead he and Merry had settled into a rhythm that worked. He had lots of unresolved and very confused feelings for Suzanne and Ara, as well as ongoing flirtations and more with Heloise, Chiara, Renee, possibly even Lilja. Shit, when he thought about it he really was a complete slut. He and Merry were in the same place and it simplified his life. She was studying just as hard as he was, the emotional quotient was dialled right back and they satisfied their physical needs. That sounded very antiseptic but their time in bed was anything but. They were both happy and satisfied with the other and saw no need to chase anyone else. Once again, Andrew was monogamous at College.

But his two friends enjoyed the chase as much as the result. There was nothing they liked better than to chat up a woman over the course of a night or a week or however long it lasted before finally hooking up with her. It just seemed such a waste of time and effort. In previous years Andrew exhibited a lot of those behaviours without ever making much of an effort to close the deal. You just had to look at two years at Cindies to know that. Now Merry would be waiting after hockey practice on a Wednesday evening and they would just head off to his room. Which also was a very effective way of dealing with Fresher flirtations from members of the team.

Andrew saw Pedro and Justin do the same thing as usual that night. They were out for the night in London, they were driving back to Cambridge after midnight and the car had no room for anyone else. But did that stop the two of them trying to pick up women? Andrew just could not be bothered. He saw Olivia for hours every day, he saw Navya at breakfast most mornings and was back to waking Helena upon his return to Trinity. There were all the women from hockey, never mind everything happening outside College. He just could not be bothered. Five weeks like before Cyprus might have changed his effort level but that term he watched, laughed at and occasionally rescued his friends.

Oh, and they saw a band. The Marquee Club was their favourite venue, not always but most nights that was where they ended up. Just like the Nite Club from his school days in Edinburgh it was hit and miss. More hit than miss but there were some dodgy nights. But from that first Black Sabbath gig all the way back when Andrew was still 14 he absolutely loved live music. The energy, the visuals, the aural overload, the sweating, heaving mass of humanity, just the whole experience. It was the thing he missed the most about Cambridge. Rather than bridge and chat over some wine or beers, this is what he would have been doing every Friday night in Cambridge.

The downside to being the driver was the two of them were out for the count within minutes and it was a quiet drive back to Cambridge. Once he reached the M11 it was quick and easy on the way home, the opposite of the drive in. He shoved the two of them awake and they caught a cab after only having to walk for 10 minutes. Back at College and in bed by 2.00, despite the hour it had been a great day.

So another week started, routine as usual. Addenbrooke’s on Monday, OTC on Tuesday, and hockey on Wednesday, each after a full day in the Department. The weeks starting to merge together, just a treadmill of working hard. But on the Thursday at the start of week four, remember Cambridge weeks start on Thursday for reasons that are historical and don’t matter, he was stopped by Dr. Wakefield at breakfast asking Andrew to see him as soon as possible. Thursday was one of the days when there was Formal Hall after regular dinner so Andrew told him he could be at his room at 6.30. That meant he could still have some dinner. But he wasn’t skipping anything at the Department for Wakefield. So that night Andrew turned up at his room in College.

“Thank you for coming to see me Andrew. You are, by some distance, my most distant student and I have come to realise that I am failing as a Tutor as I clearly don’t know you.”

As an opening it had Andrew’s attention but he waited to hear what Wakefield had to say. He sighed at Andrew’s lack of response.

“I asked you here today Andrew because of the letter of recommendation that you wrote for an applicant, Ms. Amanda Brown. You wrote very eloquently about meeting her when she was a cancer patient and how you accompanied her and her mother into the College during our week of interviews in December 1983. I was asked by the admissions officer what I could tell her about you. When I understood the reason for her interest I came to realise that I did not know you as well as I assumed. I was concerned about your focus on academics to the exclusion of other activities when I spoke to you in March. You rather dismissed me then and our interactions since have been perfunctory. Could you please give me some background and context here?”

He should have been more prepared, maybe not for the actual moment of the interview, but at least for the College to be surprised at receiving a letter of recommendation from a current student. That there may be questions had not occurred to him. Time to be more open.

“Dr. Wakefield ever since I came up to Cambridge I have volunteered at Addenbrooke’s. We will come back to that in a moment. In addition I have been a member of the OTC, also since I came up, and for a year covering part of both 1^st and 2^nd year I assisted at the College of Art on a Thursday evening. I am also, as of the start of this term, the coach of the College’s women’s second eleven hockey team. So I am not here purely focusing on my academic studies to the exclusion of everything else the College and University have to offer.

“As for Mandy, I met her two years ago not long after I came up. She was in the pediatric oncology ward at Addenbrooke’s, which is where I volunteer. I spend time there as I had cancer when I was 13 years old. Over the course of that term Mandy and I talked. Just before the end of term she received the all clear and on the day of her release I brought her and her mother here to see round Great Court and to have lunch in Hall. As you said it was the perfect time as the College was full of applicants. In my talks with the patients, not just Mandy, I had talked about life after cancer, the challenge of not being cancer boy or girl. So when she was released she wanted to see inside one of the colleges, places she had walked past many times but had never been inside. So I showed her and her mother Trinity College. She and I have kept up an infrequent correspondence where I have talked about my time here, she has talked about her dreams and ambitions, some of which I am proud to say I inspired. This summer she asked me to write one of her two letters of recommendation which you know about. If she is offered an interview I will see her for the first time in two years, almost to the day. I worry I won’t recognise her, the last time I saw her she was 4’10 and bald as a coot.”

Andrew stopped as he was starting to ramble. Wakefield looked at him in surprised silence.

“You volunteer in the children’s cancer ward at Addenbrooke’s?”

“I do.”

“Is that not difficult and draining?”

“Most weeks it is.”

Wakefield was many things but a fool was not one of them.

“Ms. Brown is following in your footsteps, leaving cancer behind and challenging herself.”

Andrew nodded.

“It is a very inspirational story Andrew. Your letter was well written, especially the part about seeing beyond the Gate. You will be pleased to hear that Ms. Brown was going to be offered an interview even before this conversation but I will annotate her application file so that the interviewers are aware of her background. And you have never seen her since that day?”

“No, she lives over in Thetford and she has her own life to live. I wasn’t sure whether she would even want to continue to correspond once she returned home. Maybe she wanted to put it all behind her. But we write three or four times a year, once per term and once over the summer as well. We talked about the number of A-levels to take. Is it better to do fewer and hope to do well rather than do more and potentially spread yourself too thin? That is the part of which I have no knowledge. I do not know how she is doing academically and whether she would meet the entrance requirements here. All I can tell you is that she was inspired the day she had lunch here.”

Wakefield shook Andrew’s hand as he was leaving.

“You could have told me some of this back in March. That you are a Senior Scholar on top of all this is remarkable. Thank you Andrew.”

What do Andrew think about for the rest of the night? Being happy that the college had scheduled an interview for Mandy already. It wasn’t tokenism or anything like that. He also realised he had dodged a bullet when Wakefield did not ask about the College of Art. That would have been an interesting conversation. But that was the break in the routine of both that week and the week after. He did not coach the hockey team at their game on the Saturday as he was away for an OTC training day out at Stanford. It was the first weekend for the new cadets and the purpose appeared to make them as miserable as possible. The Permanent Staff succeeded.

That term the drama in Andrew’s life happened at the weekend. The most significant weekend of the term was the first weekend of November 1985, his second trip down to London, this time to see Ara. He had brought the car up to the playing fields so that at the end of the match he could just head off straightaway. Two hours later he was sitting having a late lunch in Jim and Freya’s kitchen letting them do most of the talking as he stuffed his face. The big news was that Moira and Lars had finally set a date for their wedding, something that had become quite the family joke as they had been engaged for a long time. Andrew had been confused at the start of the conversation because he thought they were already married, which rather proved the point. But the dates had been talked about but nothing set in stone. Now the talk was over. A date had been set, this was actually it.

“The wedding is going to be in Reykjavík in April. It is going to be a small affair, mind you that’s what we said and you know how that turned out.”

“You must be excited and pleased. Your daughter happily married.”

“I am. Oxford and then Iceland have changed our dynamic. If she was still at home or we had the relationship that we had in Edinburgh then it would be hard. But she left home more than four years ago and so this is the next stage in her life. You are right I am pleased.”

Freya changed the subject.

“Are you seeing your friend again?”

Something about the way she said it made him look at her and laugh.

“Yes I am.”

“Are you going to bring her along and introduce us? Or do we need to ‘unexpectedly encounter’ her one day.”

They all laughed at the euphemism for ambush.

“Let me guess she does not know what our jobs are?”

His blush gave him away.

“Andrew!”

“I have told her you are a lawyer and a civil servant.”

They both laughed heartily at his blatant half-truth.

“I think you should bring her over about 4.30. We are at the Opera tonight and are having dinner first so will be away by 5.30. She can survive an hour.”

He guessed Ara was meeting Jim and Freya. It was only later that the significance of it was explained to him. Andrew’s call to Ara was expected and he told her he would collect her around 4.15. Quick and easy. His second call, not so much. Andrew had received a letter from Rupashi asking for him to meet her and Pranav. The call was confirming the meeting for lunch the next day. The letter had been fine but the postscript had made him smile, ‘Utterly inappropriate yet completely inspired. Thank you.’ Andrew did wonder how would he and Pranav act when they met. If it got awkward or uncomfortable then it would be one and done. It was the first time he was trying to maintain contact with a former sex partner. When he then thought about Suzanne, Ara, Helena, Heloise, never mind Chiara and Renee, he revised that to a former partner where it was definitively over. He really was a slut of the first order. His calls finished Andrew went through and chatted with Jim and Freya. Early on in the conversation he remembered he had been for dinner with the Duke and Duchess.

“I was surprised for the unexpected dinner invite from her. It was a random meeting in the reception of Drummonds. Rather like running into you outside the library.”

“I have chatted to him once or twice. I think it is nothing more than curiosity Andrew. You are trying to do something very new and probably unique. They were interested to hear how that was doing.”

“That is the thing it was more social than that. We chatted and caught up, he was very interested in Suzanne’s thoughts on her 4^th year project, and they talked about that for a long time. It was not like the interrogation at Floors in January last year.”

Freya laughed.

“You almost sound like you disapprove of them talking to you.”

“No, just surprised. It is a different world. They even talked briefly about their children, the challenges.”

Jim looked at Freya before answering.

“I think that you are edging closer to that world.”

They laughed at his horrified expression.

“You should think about that Andrew. You know government ministers, you have donated an enormous amount to charity, you have another trust trying to support business and employment, friends with the rich and famous.”

He was going to need one of Jim’s extra-large glasses of whisky if they kept talking like that.

“There is more truth than fiction in what I just said.”

Andrew forced himself to breathe, it was done, the money donated, given away. There was nothing he could do about it.

“It reminds me when I was appointed a prefect at school. The head gave me this long list of all the things I had done and why I was appointed a prefect. It is the same thing with this. I don’t know why I am surprised. It is the unintended notoriety that surprises me.”

“You never thought about fortune and glory?”

“We made most of the money when I was 15 to 17, the companies were all sold before I was 18. Fortune happened mainly through the efforts of Leslie, her dad, Julian’s dad and all our advisors. As for the glory I didn’t think about it. I am not an ostentatious person and have no need to be the centre of attention. Which given all the photo and commercial shoots I have been on, and how little I am wearing in most of them, is inexplicable. If I was 5’10” and kept my clothes on nobody would know who I was and I would be unremarkable and difficult to pick out in a crowd. I suppose recognition will come at some point but I am not going to borrow trouble forward.”

He shrugged, his standard punctuation for stuff like this.

“Does your friend know about these parts of your life? What is her name and how do you know her?”

“She does but I will let her tell our story, it is quite funny.”

He went to get the car and thought about himself. Andrew McLeod, establishment figure. It seemed far-fetched and borderline ludicrous but Jim had neither exaggerated or lied when he spoke earlier. Andrew thought about a new career goal, Scottish mountain hermit. If only. He smiled when Ara came out of her flat. It was nice to see her but he was already imagining the next hour.

“Did they send you a tape yet?”

It is nice to see you too dear.

“Hello Arabella. How are you?”

She flushed but still felt the need to whack him on the arm.

“Okay, okay. I am fine. How are you?”

“Good actually. In answer to your question and to save me from further abuse yes there is a package from Paris but I have not opened it yet. I only got here this afternoon.”

“Can we go and see it?”

“Yes, but the price of admission is that my friends would like to meet you. They are going to dinner and the Opera so will be gone by 5.30.”

“What do they know about me?”

“Your name?”

“Just my name? You didn’t tell them anything else?”

“I figured you would have fun telling them about how we meet, stand-offish university student not deigning to go out with the schoolboy.”

The whacks were interspersed with cries of ‘idiot’. Andrew really did just like women hitting him. A few minutes later they were at the flat. When they went through to the living room the two of them were sitting there just like parents. They stood as he and Ara came into the room. Deep breath Andrew, deep breath.

“Ara, these are my friends Freya and Jim. Jim, Freya, this is my friend Arabella.”

No surnames, no job descriptions. Jim was already trying not to laugh. Once they were seated Andrew started to fill in the blanks.

“Okay, time to be truthful. Jim, Freya, this is the Honorable Arabella Lindsay, the daughter of Baron Ashland. Ara, Jim is Lord Barnes, one of the Law Lords, and Freya, who is known as Mrs. Moray professionally, is one of the Deputy Undersecretaries at the Ministry of Defence.”

Jim and Freya took Ara’s status in their stride and Ara maintained an impressively stoic demeanour, right up until she whacked him.

“A lawyer and a civil servant!”

Trying to explain that it was technically true did not save him from further whacks.

“It is nice to meet you both. As you can tell, this infuriating now former friend did not tell me who you were. I am a PhD student at the LSE.”

Freya brought through tea and there was a minute or two of fussing over the tea until they were all reseated. Jim started.

“So who wants to go first? Shall we?”

The story was condensed to less than 10 minutes. Ara smiled at some of the story and looked at Andrew several times as Jim told their tale. Then it was Ara’s turn.

“Andrew and I met in the winter in early 1981. I had seen him swimming every now and then and one night while trying to get my gloves on I dropped my books right in front of him. He helped me pick them up but then shot off before I could thank him. A couple of weeks later I saw him again and so waited to thank him. After we had changed he asked me if I wanted a cup of tea, coffee, whatever, and so I agreed. Which was unusual for me. I was only 17 but already at university, in my first year and we came to the horrifying realisation that Andrew had still got more than two years of school left and was only 15. I don’t know whose face was the more shocked. I am only 18 months older than Andrew and now at 20 and 21 not quite 22, it is no big deal. Then oh boy.”

Jim and Freya’s faces were a picture.

“So you have known each other for nearly five years?”

“Next February will be five years, yes. But as you can imagine with our ages and stages of education we have waxed and waned over these years. It was only this summer that we reconnected after a couple of years of drifting apart, and it was sheer chance in the street. It was right before our international model here headed off to Cyprus.”

This was clearly laugh at Andrew day.

“He has told you about his modelling?”

“I presume you know what he is like. You have to drag stuff out of him. But yes, I know about his modelling and the nature of it. In fact the latest tape is waiting to be opened. I am very intrigued to see them.”

The conflicted looks on Jim and especially Freya’s faces were hilarious. Andrew was despatched to get the tape and brought it through.

“It has them all so far. According to the note the last two might be tweaked slightly but it is mostly done.”

Jim left to get changed but Freya just sat on the sofa looking anguished. He pressed play and stood at the back of the room watching the two of them as much as the television. It was not an endless parade of tits and arse although there was plenty of them. There was more of a theme to the ones in Paris at the end of the summer. Veronique had edited them to make it look believable, more lusty than loving but still romantic. Cyprus was much hotter, no pun intended. The hat and the wet shirt look on him worked really well and the way it was edited made you think that the remote beach was right outside his room at Nissi Bay. When it was done the two of them looked at each other and then watched as Andrew rewound and removed the tape. Definitely not something to leave lying around. Freya stood up and gave him a hug.

“You need to stop me watching these things Andrew. They are very good, quite funny in places, but wow.”

With a peck on the cheek and a glint in her eye she left the room. Doors were emphatically closed and a suspicious silence fell over the flat. Andrew didn’t want to think about what she was doing to Jim. Better see how Ara was taking all this.

“Worse that you imagined?”

He sat down beside her.

“Once they have left for dinner, can we watch them again. One at a time. I want to listen to the words, concentrate on the message but then I want to watch the whole commercial before watching it a third time focusing on you. There was so much going on that I could not focus on any one thing.”

She looked him in the eye.

“They are remarkable. There are some seriously sexy moments in those ads. But it is disconcerting to realise that it is my close friend Andrew who is rolling around on the beach, splashing through the water like some male wet tee-shirt contestant. And several of the women are much older than you as well.”

She was silent for a moment.

“Why do you do it? You are so quiet and shy normally.”

“Well you remember when I agreed to model at Cambridge, it was just in swimwear or underwear, normally my swimming trunks. But that first day at Hermès, it was only photos, they did run some film but it was more to get a sense of how we interacted rather than anything that could be used. But the shoot was quite racy from the start. I met Heloise on the Tuesday evening, mentioned to her that I had modelled on the Wednesday afternoon and by Thursday lunchtime I had women dropping their robes at my feet as I applied cologne. So the women had all been naked in front of me before they had me walk away while she held onto the towel. Nobody asked me, it was never discussed, at least not in English, and so there was that sense of ‘what’s the big deal?’. The modelling equivalent of peer pressure, that is not right but it was my sense of equality. It should not just be the women that have to get naked. All of those things. Plus it was stills and I really didn’t think my arse was going to help sell cologne or perfume.”

Ara laughed and nodded.

“So that is where it started but what I did not know at the time was that Heloise was the most famous model in France, she still is. I had been set up on a blind date that millions of Frenchmen would have killed for. And I had no idea. So I didn’t act or try and be something. Who knows what the hell I would have done or acted if I knew but I didn’t. We hit it off and it was Heloise and the chemistry between us that rescued the shoots. They were not working until she worked with me. But she wanted to get away from pure fashion and wanted to shoot commercials. She wanted me as the other model, at present I am the only man she films with, although I think that will change. So I had to make a decision. Was I prepared to be filmed naked? Two things clinched it for me. Firstly Heloise was desperate for me to do it. This was a big deal for her and you know me with damsels in distress.”

Ara snorted loudly. A common reaction to that statement.

“The other was the double standard. Nobody cares about a man’s arse. It is not full frontal nudity for either of us, but topless is orders of magnitude different for women rather than men. So it was helping a friend and who cares? And it is a job. Sure there was a naked woman in my arms all day but the studio had 20 plus people in it. And I am not a professional, in fact I am a rank amateur, so I have to really concentrate and focus. It is difficult and I quickly forget about it. I don’t even worry about frontal shots, as I know they will be edited out.”

He explained about the postiche, how there was at least some minimal covering.

“Are you going to keep modelling?”

“I have a contract that expires the month after I graduate. One week of shoots per break, so I have six weeks left to do.”

The silence was longer as Ara pondered all this. Her next comment was a boomerang that clipped him behind the head.

“What do you want from a woman?”

“How do you mean?”

Ara sighed and looked at him.

“You have to figure out what you want from a woman. And you have to let her know what she brings to the relationship other than her body.”

Andrew sat there his mouth open looking like a stranded fish. Ara took his hand.

“Andrew, look at us. I am the daughter of a peer, even if only a minor one. I have a First Class degree in International Relations from Edinburgh University and am studying for a PhD at the London School of Economics and Political Science. I know I am attractive not just generally but to you in particular. And I am intimidated. Intimidated! What do I bring to our relationship?”

The phrase people use is they run out of things to say. Andrew was trying to start from empty and nothing was coming out his mouth. Eventually the circuits reset and he managed speech.

“I don’t really see myself as an intimidating person. What does any person want from a partner? I want someone that touches my heart. I want someone that makes me happy, complements me, someone who makes my day better by being in my life. I want someone who brings balance to my life, supports my dreams and goals but also can get me to find an equilibrium. Save me from myself.”

Being challenged really forced him to try and articulate a lot of his thoughts.

“I am sorry Andrew, but I think I am going to walk home now. I need to think about all this. I am not walking away from us I just need time to think. It does not feel like a relationship of equals at the moment.”

With a quick hug and a kiss Ara left the flat. Andrew sat there in a daze. Jim came through and looked around.

“Where is Ara, gone to the toilet?”

“No, she decided to head home. She wanted to watch the commercials but they appear to have freaked her out, although in a strange way. Anyway, she says she needs time to think.”

Jim didn’t say anything but did pass him a whisky as they sat and waited for Freya to finish dressing. When she came through Andrew repeated Ara’s reason for leaving.

“I think we should talk about it in the morning Andrew. Don’t go swimming, please?”

Jim and her had to hurry as they were going to be late so moments later Andrew was sitting in the flat on his own. There was only one place he could possibly go and thirty minutes later was slicing through the water at Marshall Street pool. But his thoughts were not on swimming. The word Ara had used was intimidated and Andrew was stuck on it. So much of him was new Andrew not old Andrew but down at his core there still lurked remnants. He never really thought of himself as anything special. He knew he was clever but really other than that was not remarkable. And so he had always mentally presumed that he would have to convince someone that he was worth being with. Enough of the euphemistic language. He was attracted to women who had many choices. If Andrew was to have any chance to turn that attraction into love and to marry her then he would have to work hard. Demonstrate that he was a good man and would be a good husband. Until that day he hadn’t joined all these dots but that was his mindset. But he had never considered himself intimidating. Despite his height he didn’t think he had a threatening or intimidating demeanour. Andrew was also confused as to how this had been triggered by Ara’s watching of the tape. He had explained them all four weeks earlier but there was something about seeing them that upset her. Abi had turned away from him after watching the first three days of filming. It had been gradual over Lent Term but it had started after the trip to Paris. Now Ara had seen the outcome of all that shooting and she had freaked out and run away. Abi wanted to be at the shoots, Ara wanted to see the tape, yet it had upset them both.

The lengths piled up and he slowed his pace so he could continue swimming. Andrew presumed his wife was going to be clever, very likely to have a degree and he assumed a career. Even including most of the women from his slutty two weeks in Cyprus only Kenzie all the way back at the beginning was not at university or planning to go to it. So the core of what he wanted was intelligence. But there was more to it than that. Tanvi had called him on it all the way back in 4^th year at school, April 1981. Andrew lived life on his own terms. If he changed his plan, backed away from his goals then he was putting the other person first. The goals had been very rigid at school, a termly checklist to monitor his behaviour. But now they were just part of him. University was half over, fitness was a daily task, often completed before anyone else was awake. Career was still a mystery but it was hardly a factor in any of this. Was it the money? He was rich but had given most of it away. He was confused and worried about Ara being upset. But in the summer, Andrew had considered whether he would have shouted over to Ara if the roles had been reversed. She had reconnected and they had been making gradual but steady progress. Now this.

He finished up and walked down Marshall Street towards Piccadilly Circus and the Tube. He was dragged out of his thoughts when he saw several For Sale signs on various properties around the NW corner and west edge of Soho. He noted the details to forward to Mhairi and her associate Grace. He headed out to a gig and drank too much. Meredith seemed very appealing that night.

Andrew got up and ran, sweating the self-indulgent misery out of him and was sitting in the kitchen when Freya came to get coffee for her and Jim. He was sure that was the main reason they let him stay, he always had the coffee on when they got up. When she came back through she was casually dressed and they headed out to talk.

“I don’t know what it is about walking and talking but I find Jim and I both do it now. It is one of the traits we have picked up from you.”

They got into the Park and started walking.

“It is wrong for me to be watching these videos. There is a morbid fascination to them, that is not the right word but it will do. It is as if I cannot look away. So no more. It was after watching them that Arabella got upset?”

He walked through what had happened while Freya was getting ready to go out. What she initially wanted to happen and then the whole intimidated fiasco.

“This is why we are talking Andrew. Because she is right, 100% accurate. Some of what I am about to say is going to embarrass you, some you are going to disagree with but listen to me. Arabella is a very clever, very attractive woman whose father is a Baron, and at least reasonably well off. So to say she is intimidated of you seems absurd, right?”

He nodded.

“Andrew, you are working on your second degree at Cambridge University. All but certain to get a First. You made, as part of a group, £40m in four years while at school, all before you were 18. The three of you kept less than £7m of that putting the rest into two Trusts or paying it in tax. You donated £2m to the Imperial Cancer Research Fund last December and are going to do the same next month, yes?”

Again he nodded.

“You have come to know a large number of people with important jobs or people with titles. You are having dinner with the husband of the cousin of the Queen next month. You had dinner with the Duke and Duchess of Roxburghe six weeks ago. You are staying with Jim and I. Several junior ministers know you by name and Malcolm and Edith Rifkind know you by first name. Oh, and you have a Secret security clearance and have worked with the MoD Police for the last two summers. I read the report of this summer’s escapades. It was you that pulled the first thread in the whole mess. And then spent five weeks in Cyprus working on fixing it. We will talk about next summer on your next visit let’s stick with the issue at hand right now.

“You are also ferociously supportive of your friends, especially women. You are an ardent feminist and a pro gay-rights advocate who does not care about the venue or context to protect his friends. And you are clearly good in bed. Oh stop. I told you I would embarrass you. Moira, several of your friends at the party, Helena, and the Rai sisters, Suzanne, Arabella. And that is before some of the steamy scenes in those videos. So stop it.

“And the modelling which is just a whole different psychologists dream. So name me a woman that wouldn’t be intimidated by all that.”

Nobody had the whole picture and the closest Andrew could come up with was Suzanne.

“Suzanne is okay with all the stuff that she knows about. She doesn’t know about the summer job. Nobody knows about the summer job, so it is a question without an answer.”

“Okay, one woman. Andrew, Arabella clearly likes you, the two of you have been drawn to each other likes moths to a flame for a long time, from a time when any future was pure wishful thinking. So there are three things. One, and I can add my personal opinion to this point, you need to not listen to anyone when they ask about the videos. Even if you have copies of any additional shoots I would recommend that you don’t tell anyone. I know it is one thing to talk about them but it is completely different to watch them. I know. The second thing is to give Arabella some time. Leave her be this weekend and then write to her next weekend. When are you back?”

“Three weeks.”

“Perfect. She has a time to calm down react to your letter, hopefully send one of her own and then the two of you can meet the next time you are here. Probably best not at the flat. Meeting Jim and I was a mistake and I am sorry for pushing you to bring her over. Us and the video was too much. Which leads to the third thing and the whole reason for us having this chat. You always talk about intelligence in your female friends. You are clearly attracted to intelligent women. Arabella asked you what did you want from her other than her body. You don’t define women by their bodies, or at least not just by their bodies, so they wonder about how they can bring something to your relationship. It gets back to the intimidation factor. And most crucially, it only matters to the people that matter to you. Arabella didn’t react like your friend, Arabella reacted like your girlfriend. If she is just your friend and even as just a friend she is intimidated then that friendship is going to wither and fade. But I think for any woman that you get serious about, you have to open up, and talk about how they help you, but what they as the woman bring to the relationship.

“Hell’s teeth Andrew. In a year’s time you could be spending your weekends in a house in Mayfair. As a student. What you have done a good job of avoiding are any gold-diggers mainly because you are shy and secretive. But they are out there.”

She paused and smiled at him.

“Look I have dumped on you this morning but it was deliberate. How you are feeling is how Arabella is feeling this morning. Confused and unsure of what to do. Just think about it. Use the ‘big old brain’ and think through some of this stuff. Come on, Jim will be hungry for his breakfast.”

 

Chapter 3

After they got back to the flat Andrew had no time to think about everything Freya said as he had to meet Rupashi and Pranav. He took the Jubilee Line out to Kingsway and waited for them on the high street, just as he had 18 months earlier after introducing Rupashi to Jim. Just standing waiting outside the Tube station was making him hungry, there were several restaurants close by and every so often Andrew would get a waft of some wonderful smells. Breakfast seemed many hours distant and he was already hungry for lunch. But they were right on time and Andrew saw them walking towards him. He was always easy to spot and he mentally braced himself for meeting Pranav. It was very formal, a handshake with him and an acknowledgement of Rupashi but no contact. They went to one of the nearby restaurants and were seated. Andrew waited to see how this was to play out.

“It is nice to meet you Andrew. Both Rupashi and Navya have mentioned you as someone that has been, and is, a friend from Cambridge. Rupashi also told me how you introduced her to Lord Barnes, an amazing friendship.”

He stopped for a second.

“It sounds like I am reading a script. Rupashi has also told me about your unusual understanding of the situation that a lot of us are facing. Children of immigrants, not really British or English or at least struggling with it, but not really Indian any more. At least in some of our outlook. Growing up my friends were other Indian children, it was only at university that I spent time with, and got to know, guys of other backgrounds. So there is nothing to go on. Neither of our parents have any white friends and so here we are.”

He literally threw his arms up in the air. Just that act alone made Andrew think this might work.

“I still have two years to go at Cambridge so it is not like we are going to be having dinner parties any time soon. Let’s meet two or three times a year and see if we enjoy each other’s company. If the invitations get further apart then the friendship will slowly wither away. But we all know it will not be because I am white and Scottish and you are whatever the correct short way of describing someone British born of Indian parents.”

They both laughed.

“Everyone’s shorthand is just Indian but I get your point. This is not some scientific racial experiment it is just a bunch of people seeing if they can get on.”

And that was it. The fact the three of them were able to sit and chat through that first very awkward meeting was sufficient. But Pranav seemed decent, they were all trying too hard that first day, and Andrew wasn’t going to judge him on this one meeting. They survived lunch, and he treated Rupashi well, which was essential to this working. When the three of them left the restaurant they all heaved a sigh of relief that they had got through it. When they saw the others’ reaction they all laughed, it had not been relaxing for anybody. They parted with promises to do it again, probably early in the new year.

Andrew stood on the Tube back into the city staring blankly out the window. An hour later he was speeding up the M11 with the same blank stare. In times of emotional crisis he had only one solution and his studies were his refuge that week. He spooned against Meredith on the Wednesday evening just revelling in the stability of their lack of relationship. He had told her he was wound up, out of sorts and just needed to fuck her hard all night long. Her response was to smile and just let him do it. In fact she was a spirited partner the entire night, just what he needed. No angst about what it meant, nothing like that, just an acceptance that he needed to use her that night, just as she had used him at the start of term. It was a very loving gesture without any love attached to it. And after all the crap with Ara it was what he needed. And the following morning?

“That was fun last night. I hope you get all out of sorts again before the end of term. Yum.”

And she was off. Meredith Young was a godsend that term. Goodness only knows where he would have managed to overthink himself to without her.

His studies were going well, he was caught up on his reading finally and felt in control. He and Olivia were inseparable in the Department but other than an occasional dinner at each other’s College did not socialise much. Just as Andrew had the three circles of his life at Cambridge, Trinity, the OTC and the Department, so she had a similar arrangement except her third circle was a choir that she sang in. They were friendly with the others doing Civil and Structural Engineering but not close friends with any of them. Could they have tried harder, could he have tried harder? Maybe, but the jocks and the snobs didn’t want to hang out with the nerds any more than the nerds wanted to hang out with the jocks and the snobs. And Olivia and Andrew were definitely nerds.

So his course was going well, although it was still hard work and he needed to put the hours in. But the 50 hours a week of his course were emotionally calmer than his four hours on Monday nights at Addenbrooke’s. So many of the weeks blurred into one big unresolved mess. Four hours, one night a week was tough. Andrew spoke to many patients but as the nights drew in and it was dark by the time he started, more and more of the patients were quiet and resting or just asleep. There were fewer visitors and the energy level of the ward was lower. Most nights Andrew would walk back into town reminding himself that his goal was to help the patients in any way possible. But the truth was his interactions were limited, there appeared to be little positive impact and he saw a lot of children not recover. Andrew never cried but there were nights when it was very bleak. Olivia was often quiet on a Tuesday morning until he shook himself out of his funk. Never asked for, never talked about, but always appreciated.

The OTC in comparison was easy, there was no other way to look at it. Passing the first two years of tests at the OTC allowed a cadet, and potential officer candidate, to skip the first half of the eight week Territorial Army Commissioning Course, but Andrew would still have to attend the second four weeks at Sandhurst. So that term, and indeed that year, Andrew concentrated on the Royal Engineers section. He wanted to continue to improve his leadership and command. He talked about, and planned to become, a Territorial Army officer, but he had to pass the Selection Board. It wasn’t going to be automatic.

He had missed the Remembrance parade by being in London the previous weekend. He had stood quietly in his room at Jim and Freya’s flat, alone with his thoughts. He never talked to anyone or was with anyone else when he remembered Faith at the start of February and so it just felt better to stand on his own. But given everything that had happened that weekend it had been a lost cause to get his mind to still.

He was now one of the more senior cadets and was starting to lead larger groups of cadets in exercises. The weekend of the 15^th to 17^th of November was the first full weekend with the OTC that term. And the Sapper section were going somewhere different. They ended up being sent to Barnham Camp. Stanford training area was north of Thetford but there were a large number of training exercises taking place there that weekend and so the Royal Engineer section ended up at this small RAF Regiment training area south of Thetford. It was a former nuclear weapon store, unsurprisingly all long gone, so the jokes all weekend were about glowing in the dark when they got back to Cambridge. But the training area was ideal for them. Since it was just the Sapper section, 25 cadets out of the whole company, there was a lot less bullshit to deal with that weekend. The best part was not having to dig the latrines, an exercise that he could supervise as an ancient 3^rd year. Training on their own for that first weekend really helped bring the section together.

Hockey had settled into a routine. Andrew was approachable and friendly with the women on the team but didn’t socialise with them. There was a big team dinner, both elevens at the end of the term which he had still not committed to. The first eleven coach was a woman so Andrew wasn’t sure about the only guy with 30 to 35 women. One of only a small number he could just about handle, being the only one was giving him pause. But it was good fun and did mean that he said hi to a much larger number of women when at Hall or the Bar. Justin and Pedro thought this was an inspired decision by him.

Hanging over all this routine and normalcy was Ara. Andrew had written a bland letter to her when he returned to Cambridge after the abortive weekend. Her reply only arrived two weeks later, equally bland, thanking him for letting her have the time to think. The weekend after his OTC trip to Barham Camp he was heading back to London. Confused but with the outline of a plan. He was going to keep the chat about modelling to a minimum but other than that was not going to change anything. This was who he was. And most of the things that she talked about being intimidated about were from the past, even if the impact was still being felt. It wasn’t like he could not have a degree from the Open University or not have made all the money. It was now part of his life and part of who he was as a man. If their friendship withered because of it then there was nothing he could do.

All that was easy for Andrew to think, but the second part of the whole thing was what did he want? Ara had been his one true teenage crush, the unrequited, for a long time, object of his fantasies. But the physical attraction had grown into a strong friendship with her. Andrew was drawn to intelligent women, and Ara was very smart. He liked listening to her talk first about her degree and now her PhD. She could expound passionately on details of history, like the 10 minute monologue on an Iranian coup. But he also knew there were deeper and darker reasons he was drawn to her. Her relationship with her parents, especially her mother, reminded him of his own. Not listening to her, not understanding her, all were triggers within him. So what did he want? Her friendship. She was intelligent, beautiful and interesting. She made him laugh and she made him think. What he was trying to do, trying to get to, was the same level of comfort and understanding that he had with Suzanne. The person he was happiest with in the whole world was Suzanne, despite everything they went through the previous year. He always thought of the teasing at Jim and Freya’s wedding, coming to hold his hand when people were praising him at his party. Suzanne cared about Andrew the person in a way that nobody else had ever demonstrated.

So the drive down to London was full of thoughts of the two women. Suzanne Jenner, 5’8” of voluptuous siren, round and curvy but tight and powerful, with the sweetest smile framed by her dark blonde hair. Strong, fit and passionate. Arabella Lindsey, 5’11” of long elegance, a less pronounced but still notable hourglass figure, dark and exotic. Less confident in many ways yet also opinionated and passionate. One had dark desires, endless needs, the other much less experienced, a woman not yet sure of her own nature. At this rate he was going to need a cold shower when he got to London!

Andrew’s arrival at the flat followed the familiar pattern. He enjoyed a late lunch while catching up with Jim and Freya. He talked to them about his meeting with Pranav at Rupashi’s request. They were both interested in the nature of trying to make something like that work. Before he sat and talked with the pair of them after lunch he called Ara. The moment of truth. She was subdued but not silent.

“Hello Andrew. Yes, let’s go out tonight. I have got tickets for an exhibition at Burlington House. If you come over we can walk into town, have an early dinner and then go to the exhibition. 4.00?”

Another day of walking and talking. It could be worse. Andrew sat to chat with Jim and Freya.

“I am going to be here next weekend as well, if that is okay?”

“Of course Andrew. Why so soon?”

“It is the last week of term and I have the OTC winter bash on Friday night. I am going up to Edinburgh on Saturday for the day for my friends’ wedding reception and will be back here on Sunday afternoon. I have appointments to look at three properties the next day, I think that is the 2^nd of December. That is why.”

“I am always so amazed at how you speak about such things as if it is not a big deal. Where are you looking? Where are the appointments?”

“All close to Marshall Street where I go swimming. So to the south of Oxford Street and the east of Regent Street. The top end of Soho.”

“Really? Is it not seedy there?”

“No, more shabby than seedy I think. All the sex shops and such like are south and east of where I am looking. The Marshall Street pool is only one street over from Carnaby Street. I often walk down it on my way to the pool. There is a lot of change in the area. But it is affordable, because it is so neglected and the association of the name and area. An equivalent small office in Mayfair, or Chelsea or even up round here would be between two and ten times more expensive. The impression of a business is completely different if you say it is just off Regent Street as opposed to saying it is in Soho. Both are correct but one makes you think something completely different than the other.”

“Is that one of the locations, just off Regent Street?”

“Yes, the one I am most interested in actually. It is a street I have crossed many, many times as I walked down to the Tube station at Piccadilly Circus. It is called Beak Street, an odd but memorable name. It runs along the bottom of Carnaby Street and is non-descript yet it is two blocks to Regent Street and there are no sex businesses on it. Brian Campbell told me one of the keys to purchasing property is to buy the worse house on the best street, and then spend the money fixing it up. I have just taken this a little differently. I think I am buying in the worst area in the best city. No that is not right. I am buying somewhere that is under-priced due to guilt by association. Like I said, somewhere close to the house would be seven, even ten times more expensive.”

Freya spoke proudly.

“You sound like such a smart businessman when you talk like that.”

“Six years of extensive tutelage from many people but most especially Brian. All the way back to when I had just turned 14 he talked to me about business. It was through his gentle schooling that I decided to set up the first company.”

Andrew ignored the unpleasant knot in his stomach, all those dinners upsetting Mary.

“For four years I had dinner with him every Sunday evening, and there were hours of conversation about all aspects of business. What we were trying to do as well as investment advice on the money that we had made.”

He shrugged.

“Starting with him, and then Mhairi and Creighton, then Doug Somers, and now even Leslie and Julian, I have been the recipient of enormous amounts of advice. But it goes back to my nature. When Leslie and Faith and I talked about a plan for my life the discussions settled on the goal of making a difference. But it also was clear that to make a difference I needed to make money. They are two sides of the same coin. If I wanted to do what we ultimately were able to, then I needed to make money. So the goal was about getting into the habit of making money. And just like I was a puny runt when I started my fitness regime, so it was with my financial sense and muscles. I think ahead and figure out a goal, an objective and then work towards it. The engineering company is just the latest thing. I have no idea whether I will actually run an engineering company, immediately upon graduation or later, but I am going to put the pieces in place to do so if I decide that is what I want to do. But one of the things about the meetings on the 2^nd is that I want to talk to the agents about renting or letting the space, length of terms of any existing leases, likelihood of renewal, whether the tenants have a right to renew, things like that. I am not going to buy a building and then let it sit empty, that would be stupid. I have the money to do that but why? It would be better to wait. But my instinct is telling me to do this now.”

Jim and Freya smiled like proud parents.

“It is fascinating to hear the thought process behind the decision.”

“It is only when I talk about this that some of it becomes clear in my own mind. The making money thing for instance. As I was talking I realised that I still think that way. I have Mhairi investigating what engineering patents are like, whether they are even a thing. If I do work that is patentable as part of my university studies I want to be able to protect it. She is checking that I can get a patent from my research, or whether it is owned by the university. On top of all the other things to do with my modelling, one thing that is always overlooked is that I am being paid for it. Now not as much as the women that I work with but I am being paid well, I never have to worry about things like that with Mhairi. Now the first contract had all sorts of things to do with hold periods and such like whereas the new one is purely a substantial modelling fee. I get paid for my attendance at the OTC and get an annual bounty. Embarrassingly I have no idea what either of them are. And I have worked for the last two summers, and although I am doing that job for reasons other than money I was still paid, although again I am not sure how much. So the idea, the concept of making money is built into everything I do. But I could not have told you that without this conversation. I also realise that I should at least have some idea of what I am being paid otherwise I just look like a spoiled arse.”

They all laughed, mainly because it was true.

“So you will be here on the 1^st, the Sunday?”

He nodded.

“Great, we will take you out to dinner that night. What are your plans for the rest of the break?”

“All over the place I’m afraid. I am going back to Cambridge on the Monday night as I showing a student round the College on Wednesday and am having dinner with her and her mother on Tuesday night.”

He gave them the five minute background to Mandy and how he met her.

“So two years almost to the day since you showed her Trinity for the first time she is coming for an interview?”

“Yes, I think I am more nervous than she is. I will be back here Wednesday evening and am getting Julian and Leslie off the sleeper on Thursday morning. We are having this fancy dinner on Thursday night and then talking to Dr. Bodmer on Friday. They are going to drive the Golf home for me. Then it is Paris for a week, Edinburgh for two weeks, not sure about the week of New Year and then probably back to Paris before term starts.”

“Would Leslie and Julian like to stay here on Thursday night? They are welcome.”

“Are you sure, they didn’t want to impose.”

“Don’t be silly, we are out all day both Thursday and Friday and you will be leaving for dinner when we get home. Other than a brief hello over breakfast on Friday morning we will hardly see them. You are not going to stay in Edinburgh for New Year? You could go to a party!”

“Very funny. No, I think I am going to do something else, I am just not sure what.”

“Let us know what you decide. You are welcome to come here as Moira and Lars will have returned to Iceland the weekend after Christmas. We became members of the In & Out and so are going there for New Year. You know you will always be welcome to join us.”

“Do the tickets sell out?”

“I believe so.”

He thought for a moment. It presented him with an option.

“I will give you the money, so go ahead and get me one please. Coming here for that week and studying before I head to France makes sense. I don’t know that I will definitely be here but it is good to have the option.”

That was a preview of Living Two Lives - Book 18. To read the rest purchase the book.

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