THINGS SEEN IN CAMBRIDGE - A PHOTO ESSAY IN PROGRESS

Sun Shadows

Not Art

Studying at Peets

ART?

Busy Bus

Watch Dog - Ash Street

Autumn  Hydrangea

Halloween 

Wood Mold

Fire Sox

Butt Crack Shot

Exposed Old Trolley Track Mt Auburn St

Left Over Holloween

LEANDOR AND CLAIRE - A CAMBRIDGE LOVE STORY (CONTINUED)

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 Leandor 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 Leandor 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 Leandor 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”.

Leandor thought for a moment as he ran his fingers over the heavy envelope. “Oh what the hell.” He thought and reached for the paper knife he had taken from the UL. He quickly sliced open the envelope. Hesitating slightly he pulled the folded sheet from the envelope and read it.

“Well!” intoned Shawn with some irritation. “Am I going to told what it says?”

Leandor let out a sigh and read the note aloud to Shawn.

“Dear Leandor, How absolutely lovely to have your note and invitation. My father has told me everything about you. I almost feel as if I know you. I know we will be really close friends. Yes please, I would love to have dinner with you at the Garden House as you suggest. Will you come by Newnham or shall I meet you there?”

“It is signed – Affectionately, Claire with three X’s under her name!”

There was a pause and silence – Leandor could feel the tension in the room and the smoldering resentment in Shawn’s eyes. “Ugh.” He thought to himself.

“Look she is just of those types that emote way too much for no real reason,” he said in an effort to soothe Shawn’s feelings.

“Oh really? Is that what you think Leandor?  Is that what you really get form her note?” There was an edge to Shawn’s voice but also an undertone of resignation. It was as if he could feel Leandor slipping away from him. 

Shawn said with an almost facetious tone: “I think, Leandor, that you are her next conquest! A girl like that does not have friends she has lovers and lots of them. She must be looking form a new distraction!”

“Well we shall see!” replied Leandor. “I might have something to say about that”.

They finished their toast in silence.

“More tea?” asked Shawn in a more level voice.

“Yes please.” Replied Leandor. “I thought you would never ask.”

“Do you want me to add some hot water?” inquired Shawn.

“No it should have steeped a good deal and I like a good Sargent Major’s brew.”

“And I like you despite your being stupid abut this Claire bitch!”

“Oh stop already! You don’t know that she is a bitch.”

Shawn did not reply but poured Leandor’s tea. He put the pot down and proceeded to sit in Leandor’s lap and put his arms around his neck. He was there only the briefest time when he pushed off and remarked.

“Wow boy! What is this? Is it me or thinking of your dinner with the bitch giving you the woody?”

Shawn playfully grabbed Leandor’s sex through his jeans.

“Oh don’t start that please! It is only I need to have a slash and it got hard,”

“Ya sure. Well go have your slash and if that doesn’t fix it I’ll be here waiting with an alternative solution.”

Leandor got up and went out to the bathroom on the lower landing.

After relieving himself he made his way slowly up the stairs to his set. When he entered his room he saw Shawn lying back in the sofa reading the note from Claire.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it is impolite to read other people’s post?”

“Sorry sport I was just musing about the subtext. What is she saying here – really, especially given her history.”

“Since when did you become the literary scholar?”

“Since I have been reading Foucault and Derrida. You should look into them – they might help you in your courtship with the bitch.”

“Shawn! I am not courting her and you don’t know she is a bitch…”

“We or rather you will see little one. She was with Howard from John’s and frankly treated him like crap when she no longer wished to be with him. She has done this again and again to a lot of guys. I am telling you, - no warning you, Leandor she has a reputation. What makes you think you will be different?”

“Because as I said I am not courting her, I am not in love with her, I Have never met her,, I simply saw her in the pub. I am simply meeting her for dinner as my dad requested. I am only being polite nothing more…”

“In any case tea is over and I need to do some reading,,, so you are free to leave.”

“Ok fine – do let me know how your first date goes.”

Leandor grabbed a pillow off the sofa and chucked it at Shawn’s head as he made his way to the door. It caught Shawn square between the shoulders.

“Nice Leandor – careful or you might find yourself over my knee and your trousers and pants at your ankles…” With that remark he left closing the door nosily behind himself.

The room seemed very still in Shawn’s absence. Leandor sat pensively staring straight at the empty fire. He was pensive. Shawn’s needling and teasing had a way of unsettling his usual placid and predictable approach to how he lived his life. Now all he could think about is ‘how did I let myself in for this? I don’t need this or her in my life right now. I am clearly not smooth or good with her type.’


He sat for a long time staring into the empty fire.

 

VII

 

The day had gone quickly between a lecture, supervision and rowing. He ate in Hall that evening with the rowers but Shawn was not in evidence. He thought to himself that tomorrow evening he’d have to face Claire over dinner. He was apprehensive and not a little nervous. He mused to himself …”what the hell will I say to her? What in the world will we talk about”?

He barley rose at the conclusion of dinner and did not remember hearing the closing grace. He didn’t linger at the table but swiftly left Hall and wandered into Gonville court. He walked into Tree court and out of college. Before he knew it he was at the Pickerel Arms on Magdalene St. He knew he could be alone here. Hardly anyone from Caius wandered up this way preferring the Baron of Beef. He ordered a pint and settled himself at a table on his own. He sat over his beer starting into space not conscious of much around him. When he finally felt tired enough he left the pub and slowly walked back to college. He met no one on his way nor as he walked through the courts to his staircase. He had some reading to do yet so he showered changed into his pajamas and robe then  settled into the chair in front of the empty fire with his books..

 

He was cold when he woke about 2 the next morning. He was cold. The room but for the reading light on the table next him was dark and silent. He got up somewhat dizzy from sleep and made his way to the bedroom. Throwing off his bathrobe he crawled groggily under the cover and fell into a fitful sleep.
 

He dreamed – he dreamed of Shawn – of lying next to him. So comforting and warm. Then he woke startled, disoriented until slow it come to him where he was – alone in his own bed.

 
Again he drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Again he dreamed – but now he dreamed of Claire - of meeting her. He became excited. He tried to hold her. She was so close. She was soft and he pressed against her. He wanted her. He felt his sex stiffing. Close so close – so sweet. And in a moment of intense ….. he came into his clothes and the bed.

 
The dampness and chill of his clothes woke him again and he turned and groaned realizing in a conscious moment what had happened. 
 

“God what the hell is wrong with me” he thought as he lay awake not yet fully conscious. Is this what knowing her will do? Turn my life into an obsession?