Lecture Notes
His hands appear on my shoulders as I click dementedly from result to result, rubbing the jumping knots as they pop up. “19 year old Beth Newland is a first year student in the department run by Professor Sinclair, European Studies. A friend commented, ‘Everyone knew they were together; he was even seen buying underwear for her’.” A friend, eh? A sidebar is devoted to James Winthrop’s lamenting: ‘Sinclair’s student lover dumped me for him’. Dumped? As if we were ever in a relationship. Under the heading ‘Sickening four in a bed romp’, Rob and Mel speculate that Sinclair would probably have invited them over for a good old orgy at some point in the near future. And then there is a picture of me singing a solo at the school carol concert six years ago, wearing a horrible spangly dress and my heart sinks to my boots. They have to have got that from my parents. ‘Sack monster who seduced my baby’ is the paragraph heading. Not exactly the kind of thing either mum or dad would say but… oh God. I can’t read any more.
“I have to call mum and dad,” I say miserably. “They’re going to go mad.”
“Call them,” says Sinclair, his voice low and reassuring. “Tell them you’ll be down to see them tomorrow.”
“Do you think?” I look up at him queryingly.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Sinclair! You don’t have to! They might try to…I don’t know…get you arrested or something.”
“I’m pretty sure my legal position is quite watertight,” he says with a small smile. “If we’re going to make this work, Beth, we need to deal with this straight away. I don’t want to isolate you from your family.”
“I don’t care what they think; I’m not leaving you.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. But I think damage limitation is in order, don’t you?”
“God. You’re very brave.”
“I’m just trying to find solutions, Beth. Having no family of my own, other people’s don’t particularly worry me.”
“Argh!” I make an
inarticulate noise, retracting all my limbs and huddling on the chair. “I just want to hide. I just want it all to go away and leave us in peace.”
“It will. It will all pass. And now, my love, I’m afraid I have to go out and see the VC. Then I’ve various business affairs to see to at the BBC and elsewhere. I may be out for a few hours. Why don’t you have a long, hot bath, make yourself breakfast and have a day of rest? Watch a football match or a black and white film. Do some reading. I do have novels in my shelves as well as historical tracts. Take your mind away from this mess for a little while. Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll try,” I say, peeking at him through my fingers. He takes them from my face and kisses them.
“Do as you’re told,” he murmurs, masterful as ever, but in a way that makes me melt with love rather than lust. At last I know he truly cares for me, and this is worth the humoungous storm overhead.
*
After I’ve eaten breakfast I bite the bullet and switch on my mobile. A gazillion missed calls.
My texting finger feels like a lead weight as I punch in my parents’ number. Pleeeease let the answerphone kick in. Damn, my dad has answered. My DAD. Why not my mum?
“344554,” he says, as he is the kind of old-fashioned dude that always answers the phone with the phone number. Indeed, he is probably the only person in the world that still does this.
“Ah, hi, dad,” I say uneasily. There is a clatter. He has dropped the phone, then picked it up.
His voice is wobbling as he starts to talk at a far faster pace than normal. “Beth, what’s going on? Surely you aren’t mixed up with that professor? Please tell me it’s all a mistake.”
“Dad…dad…calm down. Listen, I don’t want to go into much on the phone. Is it OK if I come down tomorrow?”
“Of course, Beth, Christ, stay as long as you like. I’m sorry your mum spoke to the press; I don’t think she realised what was going on. They told her it was a local paper feature about your opera. Then they hit her with their real agenda and she was caught in the headlights a bit. Look, Beth, please….”
“Dad. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, I promise. I’m sorry about all this; I can’t bear the thought of you being doorstepped like that…but it’s the same for me of course. Take care. See you soon. Bye.”
I am breathing heavily and I have to take a minute to calm down. I just couldn’t tell him Sinclair was coming too. Perhaps he should stay here… I don’t know.
I decide to bite a slightly less bitter bullet and dial Emily’s number.
“OHMYFUCKINGGODBETH,” is the approximate interpretation of the scream that greets my ears seconds later.
“Hi.”
“Where the fuck have you been? Where were you last night? You were with Sinclair, weren’t you? You’re back together, aren’t you?”