AUTUMN'S BOUNTY

 

                                                                            

BROODING - OCTOBER 20 -

                                   
So that you will hear me
my words
***
 Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy,
and they were more used to my sadness then you are.
Now I want them to say what I want to say to you
to make you to hear as I want you to hear me.
 ***
 Pablo Neruda – So that You will Hear Me

                    - lifted to the height of  fulfillment.
                                        
                    - plunged to darkest loss - 

                   - all beyond reason or understanding.

                                         ***

             WHERE WAS THE TRUTH - WHERE DID AFFECTION FLEE

For one human being to love another; that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.

Rainer Maria Rilke

 

Peter and Claire

‎​

Peter and Claire – A Cambridge Story of Love and Loss

I

Shawn asked him to meet him at the Spade and Becket near the lock on Jesus Green. He would have preferred the Pickerel Arms near Magdalene. But no that was Shawn for you - always taking the odd choice. But he long ago decided after he first met Shawn that what Shawn wanted he usually got. He pushed open the door of the pub - it was full of the usual post Hall crowed - mostly from Jesus and Johns. He did not see Shawn at first and checked his watch to be sure he had the right time. As he looked up from his watch his eye caught her standing in a small group at the far right of the bar

‎​Unusually, his gaze lingered on her. It was her face. It was her face and eyes that caught his attention.  As she spoke it was animated in a compelling open friendly way - her eyes seemed particularly lively and open.

‎​Shawn came up behind him and slapped his back. He jumped out of his reverey and turned to face Shawn.  "What were you staring at" Shawn asked him. "Oh nothing" he responded a bit embarrassed.

"Was it her?" Shawn asked as he motioned with his head towards the knot of three at the bar. "Um ah ya well maybe" he stuttered. Shawn laughed.

‎​"Stay away my little boy, she will eat you alive."

"Do you know her?" Peter asked quietly.

‎​Ya, some - he paused- she was with that Euro kid Elisandro who was at the summer Language School last term.

‎​"She is a second year at Newnham"

‎​"You know how these Euro trash blow in here for the language schools in summer term - turn on the charm and try and fuck all the pretty English girls or boys."

He thought for a moment and continued - "Stay away - not your garden to play in. I hear she is a bit of an ice princess - demanding. Out of your league Peter

 ‎​"No no was not thinking that way. Was just fascinated by her face - as I am with yours Shawn. He chuckled to himself"

Shawn cuffed him on the head.

‎​"Are you going to buy me a pint? All I have is a onecer and no ciggys. - I am officially skint."

‎​"Ok ok I'll take care of you little brother. What do you fancy?"

 "A pint of bitter pls" – Peter answered in his soft small voice. He was a bit in awe of Shawn and around him he always felt smaller and more vulnerable.

‎​Shawn went to the bar and Peter followed. As he trailed after Shawn his eye wandered once more to her. He thought "I never asked Shawn her name." "I wonder how he knew her?"

Shawn walked back to Peter and handed him his pint. "So how did the boat go today?" Shawn asked. Peter was number 7 seat in the 2nd Caius Boat. Shawn was stroke in the Caius 1st Boat. "Well enough we did a long lock to lock steady state. Boat sat well and seemed to move ok. That kid Peter Black is distracting to row behind - I keep thinking what it would be like to be with him."

"Ha keep your mind on your rowing you ass. I'm the only one you should be thinking of being with!" Shawn chided him.

‎​"Ok ok just idle speculation" Peter responded.  "Um how do you know that girl who you said was with that kid Elisandro?" Peter asked quietly.

"What did you say?" Asked Shawn above the din in the pub.

"Oh nothing - just mumbling." Said Peter embarrassed that he had even asked.

‎​They talked in a desultory fashion of the prospects for the Lent bumps and drank their beer quietly.  When he was finished Shawn asked "Want another or do you want to go back to my rooms - I have some brandy."

‎​"Oh sure - I never much warmed to this place - too many Jesus chaps!" "Why did you choose it?"

 "Well it was close to the boathouse and I'd been working out there."

"Oh ok. Are you ready?"

 "Ya let's go." As they left Peter cast a backward glance at the girl whose face caught his attention. As they left he asked Shawn "so what is that girl’s name?" Shawn laughed - "she is Claire Strachey - but I told you she would eat you - so stay away. Besides you ready to throw me over??"

"Very funny Shawn - sure why not! You accuse me every other day of I am throwing you over."

"Ha just because you wanted to read law - stop talking like a barrister."

They crossed the Green and made their way up Queens Parade and eventually to Trinity St. Soon they came to Caius and entered Tree court.  Shawn had rooms in Caius Ct. so they made their way through the Gate of Virtue into Caius Court.

As they walked Leandor couldn't loose the image of the girl in the pub. Her face was haunting him. He was pensive as they reached Shawn's staircase.  They mounted the stairs as Shawn had rooms on the first floor landing across from Titus Prynnes, English Don and mad poet from what Leandor could tell.

The outer door to Mr Prynnes’ room was shut so they would be alone on the landing.  Entering Shawn’s room he saw the usual clutter and wondered yet again how he could live in such disorder. Books, papers, notebooks lay scattered over the entire surface of the large table in front of the windows on the right as you entered the room which overlooked the Master's garden.  A welter of clothes lay strewn over the sofa in front of the fire. A squash racquet occupied the club chair to the right of the fire along with shorts, shirts, socks and underpants. It was clear that Shawn had not been entertaining recently.

"Shawn you are a true pig!" He exclaimed.

"Oh shut it Leandor - none of your obsessive compulsive neatness pls."

He went to the cabinet at the far end of the room and found the Martel and two glasses. Pouring two substantial drinks he handed Leandor one and went to the sofa brushing off the littler of clothes and patted the seat next to him for Leandor to sit. Leandor moved slowly to the seat and sank down his legs extend toward the unlit fire. Shawn took a pull at his brandy and got up to light the fire.  It was not yet cold but the gas fire spread a warming light across the otherwise dim room. Shawn settled back down with his brandy and looked to Leandor. Leandor felt his penetrating gaze on him and blushed.

"Aw you are so cute" Shawn said softly. 

Leandor put his head down and concentrated on drinking his brandy.

Shawn reached over and tossled his chestnut hair.

"Stop please! You know where that will lead to and I'm not sure we should get involved." Leandor was pensive and his words came slowly - and again the face of the girl appeared before him.

"Oh stop Leandor. You always want this as much as I. No one has ever forced you.". He reached over and stroked Leandor's face. Leandor turned towards him and smiled.

"That's my little brother!" Shawn almost whispered.

He finished his brandy and slid closer to Leandor on the sofa.  Leandor put his brandy down. Shawn embraced him pushing him back against the arm of the sofa. He rubbed his face on his and in his hair. Leandor could feel his deep breathing and he seemed to inhale his smell.  Shawn undid Leandor's shirt and belt loosening his clothes. He rose up for a moment pulling his own shirt off and opening his pants. He then lay on Leandor - running his body and sex against Leandor's.  Their cotton covered sex rubbed hard against each other in a rhythm as if that of the boat on the river - thrusting forward and pulling back - relentlessly in a steady state. Leandor could feel his wetness grow.  He was lost now - he felt Shawn's hardness against his own.

"Oh Shawn he gasped as he shuddered and his seed flooded over and he went rigid! Only moments later Shawn made his own contribution to this act of surrender. They lay together in the warmth and dampness.

They were still for a long while. Then the damp began to feel cold and clammy.  Peter stirred and said softly in Shawn’s ear “I should go”

 “Why?” asked Shawn. 

“I want to clean up Shawn and I have an essay to write for an early supervision tomorrow.”

“Is that really why Peter? Or is this another attack of you silly conscious for doing what we did?”

“No Shawn – but you know how I feel about it.  I am not comfortable – I like you in fact I guess I love you but perhaps not like that. I look up to you and always want to please you – you know that. But I think we need to change this.”

“Oh Peter is it because you saw that silly bitch and are lusting after her ass?”

“No and you know it isn’t. We have argued about this so many times Shawn.  I want our relationship – I want your close friendship but I don’t want to be sexual with you now.”

“I want you. I love you -.will never stop - will never stop wanting to be sexual with you. I will want to be with you just not today. Oh god Peter - perhaps you’re right maybe I have asked too much – been hurtful in a way, I'm sorry.” We can still be close – but I will always want you this way Peter – that I can’t change.”

“OK we will talk but I do need to go and get out of these pants they are way damp! You do have a lot of cum it seems.”

“Well a good half of it is yours! – OK go clean-up do your essay and then meet me in the late night bar about 10.”

“I’ll see you there around 10 – but remember I am skint you will have to buy again.”

II

Peter made his way into Gonville Court walking through the passageway between the door of the master’s lodge and the chapel.  As he passed the door of the lodge he chuckled to himself recalling the time he and Shawn had put a mouse they caught into the letter slot in the door.  He reached his staircase on the far side if the court above the Junior Parlour. He saw that he was the only one in on the staircase. He quickly bounded up the stairs to his set on the first floor. Once in he stripped off. It felt good to get out of his clammy underpants. He put on a pair of sweet pants, grabbed his kit bag and headed for the showers. He felt the need to wash off the encounter with Shawn.

Peter was back in his room within the half hour.  It was already getting dark and he felt a slight chill after his shower so he lit the gas fire and the lamp on his table. He spotted his essay in progress and on top of it two letters which someone had delivered. He had not stopped by the JCR to check his post. The letters must have been left by Charles, who was number 4 seat in his boat and lived in the set above him.  He noticed without picking it up that one letter was from his father in Boston. The second envelope had been sent through the University messenger service as it was not postmarked. He did not recognize the handwriting on the envelop but noticed it was rather juvenile.

He decided he needed tea before tackling his father’s letter. A quick search of the cupboard revealed that he had just about enough keemun for a pot. He thought to himself – “clearly a trip to the tea and coffee shop on King St. was in order. I could go after rowing practice.”

Once settled with his tea he opened his father’s letter. He noted with some surprise that it was brief unlike his father’s typical epistles. It was very brief indeed – giving him marching orders to take someone in to tea. Apparently his father had met someone at a conference who had a daughter who was up at Cambridge also and in his typical fashion offered Peter’s escort services! “So bloody annoying..” he muttered to himself. This creature he was supposed to invite to tea was in her second year reading English at Newnham. She was likely a total dud – a real looser if his experience of overly intellectual Newnham girls was any guide to go by.

When he turned over the note he saw with not a little shock that the girl’s name was Claire!

He thought to himself “no it couldn’t be her!”

He quickly reached for the other envelope that Charles had left on his table and ripped it open. “Shit!” he exclaimed out loud as he read the name - Claire Strachey.

“Christ!” he uttered out load.  He thought – “is it her? The one I saw at the pub? The one Shawn told me about -  Now what? “He read her short note which repeated the information about his and her father and asked where and when thy might meet.

He mulled over his feelings about her note for a time and sorted out nothing so he decided it was getting late and he needed to finish the essay for the morning supervision before meeting Shawn at the late night bar.  Hauling himself off the sofa he went to the gyp room to heat some water to add to the pot of tea he had made earlier before settling down to his essay.

He sat at the table turned on the light and took out his pen and set to work. Two hours later he lifted his head, stretched and stood up. He looked down at the pages on the table and was pleased with what he had written.  All that remained was to write out a fair copy for his supervisor.  He decided to do this before quitting for the day.  He went to his cupboard and pulled out some manuscript paper he had bought at Heffer’s Stationary shop off the market earlier in the week. An hour saw him finished and satisfied.  His thoughts now turned to Claire, Shawn and the late night bar. He thought to himself – “I suppose I will have to or should tell Shawn about the Claire development.” He shuddered to think what Shawn would say. “Oh well – he thought – nothing for it.”

He went to his bedroom to change. He pulled out a pair of his new skinny “7 for all mankind” jeans he had bought in London before term began – pulled on a new pair of clean pants and put on the jeans with a shirt and jumper.  He gave a quick look at himself in the mirror and pronounced himself satisfied. Even that ass Alistair would find him attractive especially his ass in these jeans.

                                                            *********

Taking his empty wallet off the table he headed out to the court and the late night bar. 

                                                                             III

He never truly felt truly comfortable at the bar. He mostly went because the drink was cheap and Shawn hung out there a good deal. It had an odd clientele – the majority of guys there were gay or real idiots like Alistair and his friends, too rich, too posh and too crude. There were however some people from the boat club and some from the chapel crowed who frequented the place for its cheap drink and who were more than reasonable company and made the scene tolerable along with Shawn.  As he entered he cringed as he saw Alistair and his cronies with that whore from Cats ,Alexandra, across the room. He was already a bit worse for beer. But then he spotted Shawn talking to Chris the chapel clerk.  He made his way over.  As he approached Shawn spotted him and turned towards him.

“Recovered from your ‘interlude’”? Shawn inquired with a faint smile on his face. Peter managed to smile back and said “Yes just fine thanks – was not much of an adventure..”. Shawn somewhat playfully grabbed him in a headlock and buried his face in his hair. “Ooo someone has been in the shower – you do smell delicious.” Chris chuckled and flashed them both a smile. “You would think you two were lovers the way you carry on – and in public no less!” Shawn released Peter and said – “no such luck Chris. This one is saving himself for the hot Strachey bitch.”

“Wow, a bit out of his league don’t you think despite his cuteness.” Chris retorted.

“Oh for christ’s sake give over the both of you. I do not have the hots for her!”

“Sure sure” Shawn said.  You have a semi because you are so happy to see me and Chris”.
Peter let the remark go and said to Shawn – “well having come here at your request do I get a beer or not?”

“Ok sure why not. Chris want anything?”

“Oh ok one more then I have to get back to some reading.”

Shawn wandered off to get the drink.  Chris looked searchingly at Peter and asked. “Do you know Claire Strachey?”

‘No I just happened to see her for the first time today at the Spade and Becket when I met Shawn there. But it’s odd because my father writes me that he knows her father and asks me – orders might be a better characterisation - to invite her to Tea.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes unfortunately I am.”

“Have you told Shawn’?

No not yet. I just saw my dad’s letter and a note from her when I went back to my rooms earlier.”
“She is serious girl my friend – as good looking as they grow them at Newnham. I would have said a bit out of your league not to diss you.”

“Yes, she likely is from what little Shawn has told me and yes she is beyond good looking. And Shawn was right it does give me a woody seeing her. But I really don’t have a choice I’ll have to invite her for tea or drinks as my father asked.”

Chris was quiet for a second then said - "well it will be interesting to see Shawn's reaction.

"Why do you say that'?

"Well Peter, isn't it obvious. He is more than a little sweet on you". And I think it might just make him a bit jealous knowing you will be with her".


"No way. We may mess about some but he knows I don’t see him that way."

"Well we'll find out soon enough".

Shawn returned carrying the drink for Peter and Chris and himself. He had a gin and it for Chris, the preferred drink amongst some Caians, and two Newcastle Browns for himself and Peter.
He raised his glass and toasted “To Love…”
Chris remarked “how apt a toast under the circumstances.”
“What do you mean ‘apt’?” asked Shawn.
“Well it seems our lover here, with the incipient woody you remarked on, has had an invitation to meet the Strachey bitch.”
“Are you quite serious!!!?”
“Yes very serious. Ask our lover here.”
“OK Peter, what gives?” Didn’t I warn you about getting mixed up with her?”
“Yes, Shawn, you did. And as always I listened to you. But now my father has landed me in the soup.”
Peter explained about his father’s letter and the follow-up note from Claire.
Shawn took a long drink from his beer and fixed his narrowed eyes on Peter. “And you are actually going to meet up with her?”
“What choice do I have? It was practically an order and my dad does pay my fees here.”
“Oh my god! I don’t believe this. Listen Peter find a way out for your sake and mine.”
“Why yours?”
“Because I love you, you fool and this... she makes me  insanely jealous to think you might get mixed up with her!”

“Look Shawn, I am not getting mixed up with her. And I have told you more than once now – I like you a whole lot - you are my best and closest friend - but I don’t love you in that way. I don’t want to do this but I have to. I don’t have a choice here. I have no idea what the hell I will say to her. I know I will likely be bored out of my mind…” his voice trailed off and he sucked on his beer.
Shawn just frowned at him in a deep silence. Chris looked uncomfortable and said: “OK, I will leave you guys to sort this out amongst yourselves. I’ve got to set up for Morning Prayer and I have reading to do. I don’t suppose I will see either of you there?”

“You got that right, Chris; we both need to be on the river at six so pray for us OK.”
Chris shrugged and made his way out of the bar and Shawn turned to Peter once again.
“Look I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that when I think of you with someone else it cuts me inside…”

“I am not ‘with someone else’, I’m not with you. We are good friends who mess sometime. Maybe someday I will be with someone but I really don’t think it will be this Claire.” 

He paused and said. “I don’t want to do this Shawn, I really don’t but I don’t have a choice.”
“OK OK let’s let it go. I really do sort of understand. But for Christ’s sake do be careful will you. Don’t let her sucker you in to anything. She is from what I have heard from all her fuck buddies more than a little manipulative.”

“I am not a fool Shawn.”

The conversation dropped and they spoke of rowing and boats on the river. They left the bar together but parted in Tree Court.  Peter went back to his rooms to think over how he would handle his response to Claire's' note and where he might take her.

                                                                        **********

IV

When Peter reached his room he saw the note from his father and Claire on the table. He re-read his father’s note and decided to call him. It would still be early enough in Boston to call. Rather than run up a charge on his mobile he decided to ring his dad using the land line at the bottom of the staircase near the buttery. That way he could reverse the charge. He reassured himself that he had some change in his pocket to make the call. Change was about all he had. If he did take her out he’d be sure to hit up his dad for some mun! 

He made his way over to the butter and down to the phone booth.  He got thru and his father accepted the charges.

“Dad, if you want to ring me back on my mobile in a few minutes I can take the call. I don’t have to pay for incoming calls…’

His father agreed and he rung off and made his way back to his set. He thought to himself this will be tedious so he settled into his most comfortable chair and waited for his father’s call. 

Within a few minutes he was on the call. He explained to his father how embarrassing the request was to him and that he had no money to ask her out someplace decent. His fater chided him and said:
 “I would have thought you would have welcomed the opportunity to meet a pretty young woman…”
Peter replied: “Dad I would really want to meet my own pretty women and not be set up by my father. I am sure I have nothing in common with her and certainly no conversation. It will be a disaster.”

“You sell yourself too short Peter…” his father replied. “Think of this as a favour for me. Her father was concerned that she was not meeting the kind of people he had hoped she would meet. He felt she was taking up with far too many dicey types and when he heard that my son was up at Cambridge also he asked if I would see if you would take her out.  As a business colleague I could hardly refuse the request. Besides I think it will do you some good to expand your range.”
“Oh god dad this is so lame!’ 

“Listen I will cover your expenses. I’ll transfer 800 pounds to your NatWest account tomorrow.”
Peter was flabbergasted by the amount – more than a full term’s allowance. His father must really want this.

“Um dad that is really a lot of money. You don’t have to bribe me!”
“Not a bribe son just want you to have enough to be comfortable with. Take her out to dinner at the Garden House.”
“OK sure dad I’ll take her out for you and your friend. But if it is a disaster and she reports that to her father please don’t blame me.’
“I am sure you will be fine. You’re a charming young man I am certain she will fall over herself having met you.”
“We will see! I wish I could be as certain as you seem to be. --- Listen I need to be on the river at 6 and it is late here. Give my love to mom. I’ll let you know next week how it all went.”
Peter rang off and turned to the note from Claire. He read it again but decided he would respond tomorrow. He was tired and needed to row early. He chucked the note back on the table and started to strip off getting ready for bed. 

Five o’clock came awfully swiftly – when his alarm went off he felt as if he had barely slept. He was just about to climb out of bed when he heard a pounding on his door.
He thought to himself – that has to be Shawn coming to get me. God he is early.
Shawn burst into his bedroom without ceremony. “My little friend rise and shine!  Let me see your morning wood…”

“Give it up Shawn it is too early even for someone as over sexed as you.”

“Ah never too early for a nice pull my little boy. However we have other things to do. Brush your teeth put on some clothes and let’s go. Oh and you might want a fleece there was a frost last night.”
Peter stumbled to his basin washed up and found his jeans. He dug his fleece out of his closet and joined Shawn at his door.  They made their way down his staircase and out to the bicycle shed off Senate House passage. They peddled up Trinity St. past Johns towards cutting down All Saints passage across Sydney St and into Jesus Lane. They went up Victoria Ave. crossing the river and to the Caius Boat House. 

That morning, frosty and chill, they did a steady state lock to lock. The rating wasn’t high but a steady 30. Peter settled into the rhythm and let his thoughts wander to Shawn, Claire and his upcoming meeting. He thought “I have to find a way to let Shawn know that whilst I really like and admire him I am not his lover nor ever could be. Sex with him to me is just mutual masturbation – nothing more.” He felt badly and thought …”perhaps by indulging my stupid horniness with him I am leading him on. I really need to stop once and for all.”

He thought of Claire and how he did feel genuinely attracted to her. But was it purely and solely a physical attraction. It had to be – he knew nothing of her but rumour and innuendo. “What was she like?” He asked himself. Well he would perhaps find out soon enough.

After the row when they had showered and changed they headed back to Caius.  It was still early and neither Peter nor Shawn had supervision till later that morning.  Peter suggested to Shawn that they stop at Belindas for a coffee and sweet roll. They parked their bikes outside and went in.

                                                 

They ordered coffee – Peter black and Shawn white.  They each asked for a sweet roll and headed for a table towards the back of the shop.  Once settled they concentrated on their coffee.  After a time Peter felt he need to say something to Shawn about his upcoming meeting with Claire and his feeling about Shawn. 

“Shawn, you know I like you and look up to you right?”
Shawn paused and looked over his cup to Peter. “I do yes…you make that very clear.”
“But you do know I am not in love with you right even though we do mess about. It’s more like friends with benefits I guess - OK – not love - not that kind of relationship. I suppose it is selfish on my part but then I have been so empty and lonely in the past and you filled a void in a way. I suppose it was really all selfish on my part?  I am sorry if I gave you the wrong impression or led you on in any way.”

“Peter you didn’t lead me on. I knew you weren’t gay. I thought for a time perhaps bi but I realized that wasn’t the case either. However Peter I do love you and will continue to love you. I like messing with you – it satisfies me and perhaps deceives me into thinking we could be lovers in the real sense. But I know that will never be true – I am not stupid Peter just a little wishful.”

Shawn put down his cup and reached across the table and clasped Peter’s forearm and gave it a squeeze. Peter reciprocated and put his hand on Shawn’s. They looked at each other in silence for a long moment. 

Peter broke the spell and said “God I have a supervision in just under and hour – I need to change and review my essay. What about you?”

Shawn yawned scratched his head and said: “Um ya… I have a demonstration I need to go to at old Addenbrooks. But I need to clean up first and grab my gown. Shall we head back now?”
“Yes that is what I was suggesting Shawn... are you going soft in the head?”
“Well ok let’s go then.”

V

They got up and walked out collecting their bikes. They walked down Trinity Street which was getting busier as the morning got on turning up Senate House passage to drop their bikes in the shed. Walking back they parted at the gate and went their ways, Peter to his rooms to deal with his essay.
His essay lay on hos table. When he lifted it he noticed the note from Claire and thought to himself I need to deal with that today but first things first.  He went to his bedroom changed and then sat in his arm chair with his essay which he read over. Making some minor changes he seemed satisfied with the effort.  He looked at the clock on the mantel and thought I better get a move on.  His supervision was at his supervisors rooms in Corpus. He would just have enough time to stroll there without rushing. He grabbed his gown off the back of the door and left with his essay in hand. 

About two hours later Peter was back in his room. The supervision had gone well. His supervisor had liked the essay on the development of formal operations in children – an expansion of Piaget’s theory.  He had suggested a number of revisions and said he would like to see the revised essay.  Peter always appreciated the scrutiny his work received form his supervisor. He felt he was a keen critic and a good scholar on top of it.

His supervisor could be amusing as well as keenly insightful about the work Peter was doing.  He reflected on his first supervisions as he walked back to Caius. He would never forget the very first supervision he had gone to with David.  It changed the way he took his tea. He had not met him until that morning.  When he arrived at David’s rooms he was seated comfortably in a large arm chair with a steaming cup of tea and puffing on a cigarette. He offered Peter a cup of tea.  Peter always took his tea without milk or cream but David just poured him out a strong cup of china tea with milk. He was too embarrassed to tell his supervisor that he did not take milk in his tea so he just accepted the cup and sipped slowly. Despite the milky tea the supervision went well.

His second supervision with David proved even more dramatic.  Once again he was given a cup with milk which he simply accepted now as part of the ritual. As Peter read his essay he noticed when he looked up from his paper that David was lighting a cigarette. Having managed to light the cigarette he raised his arm which held the lighter still lit and brushed against his thin but fuzz hair. In a matter of seconds his hair was alight. Peter’s eyes bulged wide and he seized his tea cup and proceeded to douse his supervisor’s head in an effort to stem the conflagration! The fire was out but David, his coat and shirt were drenched in tea….Peter chuckled to himself at the memory.

Having reached his rooms – he let himself in and decided he would finally have to do something to answer Claire’s note and satisfy his father’s wish.

He sat at his table and picked up her note which he re-read slowly. It did not say much beyond what his father had said. She did end by saying she was looking forward to meeting him and hearing how they might meet.

He grabbed some note paper from the cupboard near the fireplace and sat back down to respond. 
He wrote simply if formally:

“Dear Ms. Strachey,
Thank you for your note. My father had told me of your being up at Cambridge and of his and your father’s desire that we should meet.  

I understand that you are at Newnham.  I don’t know what you schedule is like but I would like to suggest that you might be my guest for dinner the Garden House this Saturday at 7.  If this arrangement does not suit you please let me know and we can find another time.
Sincerely, Peter

He signed the note, packed it up and sealed and addressed the envelope for the internal post. He would leave it at the porter’s lodge when next he went out. A bit formal he thought to himself but then again I don’t know her at all.

He thought to himself and frowned – “well that’s done we will see what it brings!”

VI

Early Friday Morning- 

He walked back from the boat house after the last practice of the week that Friday. As he passed through the lodge the porter stopped him and handed him an envelope that had come through the college post. “For you sir! Looks very fancy indeed!”…  As he took the heavy envelope from the porter and turned it over he noticed the back of the creamy envelope had the crest of Newnham College with the name Strachey! “Well”, he thought to himself,…” at least she had the courtesy to send a reply – I didn’t even expect this much.”

He headed back to his set. Once in his rooms he deposited the envelope on his table to be dealt with later. But first he needed to make tea for himself and Shawn who he knew would be by sooner than later looking for some tea and toast after the morning outing…He went tot the gyp room on the staircase filled the kettle and set it to boil. Pulling out the toaster form the cupboard he set it up, took the loaf he bought at the Co-op near the boat house on Chesterton Road yesterday and proceeded to cut off four thick slices. Did he have butter he suddenly wondered?  He checked the small refrigerator in the Gyp room and there it was – enough for this morning at lease. And jam? Yes it was in the cupboard where it should be. He laid out two plates and proceeded to make the tea – no sense waiting for Shawn.

Settled with a cup of nice china black came a knocking at his door and Shawn burst in.
“Where is my tea and toast little one”?
“Tea is on the table pour yourself a cup and you might be a useful guest and put in two pieces of toast for us”!
“Demanding aren’t we you little bugger”!
“I’m not the bugger – you are Shawn remember who seduced me”.
“Ha yes – and like you were unwilling to be taken advantage of…”
“Well I am now – and don’t forget it so please make the toast”.
“Yes, yes - oh mighty master…”

Shawn poured his tea and took two slices of the bread that Peter had cut and popped them into the toaster.  As he was pouring milk into his tea he noticed the heavy cream coloured envelope on the table near the teapot.

“And prey what might this be? A billet-doux perhaps from the fair Claire?” Shawn asked as he held up the envelope.
“It’s a cream coloured envelope – Shawn as you can well see’.
“And pray what might this ‘cream coloured envelope’ contain”?
“Precisely none of your business and as it hasn’t been opened how would I know what it contains”?
“So then Peter might it not be best to crack it open to see what surprise it might contain?”
“Perhaps I shall when you finish your tea and toast and depart”.

Just then the toast popped up and both Peter and Shawn set about buttering toast and applying liberal amounts of jam. After they were well settled with tea and toast Shawn ventured to raise the question of the envelope again.

“So is this from Claire do you suppose?”
“Well since it is addressed to me and from the crest on the back appears to be from Newnham and as I don’t know many women from Newnham I suppose there is a great likelihood it might be.”
“Well then for christ’s sake why haven’t you opened it and satisfied my curiosity”?
“Because I just received it. I have no interest in satisfying your curiosity or satisfying anything else for you so don’t get any ideas.”
“And here I had this morning woody that needs attention!”
“Forget it!”
“OK – so at least open the damn envelope and share the good news”.



                                                            TO BE CONTINUED