The Campus Trilogy (21 page)

“I don’t think so,” I said. “They’re just shy.”

The next day I went to the college and was shown my office. Located in yet another stately colonial building, it looked out over freshly mown lawns. I had sent on my furniture and books from St Sebastian’s. All this had been arranged by the moving firm. Above my desk hung the icon of St Sebastian. The college had purchased a lap-top computer which sat comfortably on my pedestal desk. I turned it on: there was a long email from Magnus:

While I was laughing over this, I heard a knock on the door; Joel Perley came in carrying several booklets about the college. “Thought you might like to have these,” he said. He put them down on my drinks table next to the sherry decanter. “Golly gosh!” he said. “I didn’t know you were bringing your own stuff.” He sat down in the armchair opposite my desk. “What’s that?” he said pointing at the icon.

“An icon of St Sebastian.”

“It’s a saint?”

“Yes,” I said. “My last university was named after him.”

“Are you a Roman Catholic?” I detected disapproval.

“No, no … an Anglican. What you would call an
Episcopalian
. I just thought the icon was beautiful.”

“I might have guessed,” said Joel. “Mimi and I are Baptists. You’ll get to know all the smart crowd round here if you’re Episcopalians.”

He looked round the room. “Did you bring that desk too?” The long case clock struck twelve. “You must have shipped that as well,” he said standing up. He went over to look at it.

“It was made in Shrewsbury in the eighteenth century by a local clockmaker. That’s where I went to school.”

“I expect it was a private school?”

“Well …” I said carefully, “it was called a public school because it was originally founded to educate poor boys, but yes, it cost my parents money to send me there.”

Joel continued to look around. “This place looks like a film set,” he said resentfully. “You should see my office. I’m so busy, I never have time to tidy up. Well, I’m glad you’ve settled in.”

Later in the day Joel and I went to the Faculty Club for lunch. Next to the President’s house, it was full of college staff. I was introduced to several members of the department, and we had a drink in the bar. The walls were lined with etchings of the college; the furniture was reproduction colonial with a mixture of modern armchairs and sofas. I ordered beer, but Joel had non-alcoholic lager. We shared a basket of popcorn. “I thought you’d like to know we’ve been invited to Spouty’s ball next week,” Joel announced.

“Spouty?”

“You know, the Porpoise. That’s his nickname.”

“Thomas Jefferson?”

“Nobody around here calls him Thomas Jefferson. I know you’re living in the cottage on his estate, but it’s only fair to tell you that the staff think he’s a joke. One of Buffalo Bill’s donors. Actually his biggest.”

“Buffalo Bill?”

“Oscar Billstone, the President … anyway, that’s what we call him. Not to his face, of course. His wife is known as ‘Her Royal Highness’.”

I was dumbfounded. “They’ve been incredibly nice to us …”

“Sure. They would be. You’re their pet professor. An
academic
with a fancy English accent and a wife who’s the daughter of a Lord.”

“Baronet,” I corrected automatically, but, with a sinking feeling, I wondered how he knew.

“Look,” Joel continued. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. We’re pleased you’ve come. The department could do with some new blood. But Buffalo Bill’s gang isn’t popular around here. They swank around and run the place, but they pay us a pittance and have no real interest in what we’re trying to do.”

“A pittance?” I asked.

“Well, relatively. None of us can afford to live in Sweetpea or even in the surrounding communities. I live twenty miles away.”

“I see,” I said.

Lunch was served in the Faculty dining room. All the waiters were black. This continued to make me uncomfortable, but no one else seemed to notice. We ordered hamburgers and fries.
Joel explained that as chairman of the department, he had to be at the college over the summer. But he and Mimi planned to go away for a week later in the month. They were taking their two children to South Carolina to stay with their grandparents.

As we walked back to our offices, we went past the faculty parking spaces. “Look at that Rolls!” he said. “Some parent must have parked it there by accident.”

“It’s mine, actually,” I said.

“You own a Rolls-Royce?”

“We bought it from the Wachman dealership,” I said. “It’s a demonstrator. Manford gave us a very good deal. I know his brother in England.”

“No ….” Joel became quite excited. “Can I see it?”

We walked over, and I opened the door.’

“Jumping Jehoshaphat!” he exclaimed, “This is fancy!”

I didn’t know what to say. “Would you like to go for a drive?”

“Wow … Sure … I’ve never been in a Rolls before!”

Joel climbed into the passenger seat and we set off. As we passed by a row of shops near the college, I saw Victoria and Nancy. They were shopping for plants for the garden. I honked and pulled over and put down the window. “Do you need a lift?” I asked.

Victoria came over loaded down with shopping bags. “Harry, would you mind taking these home? Hello, Joel.”

Joel smiled wanly. I got out of the car, and put the bags in the boot. Nancy kissed me on both cheeks, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

“Nancy just took me to lunch at the most lovely little women’s club,” Victoria said. “She’s going to take me home later. Where are you two off to?”

“Just out for a ride,” I said.

Nancy and Victoria waved as we set off for the department.

Joel looked nervous. “Look,” he said. “I didn’t know you were so friendly with the President’s wife. You won’t say anything about what I told you, will you?”

“Of course not. Just between us.”

Joel looked relieved as we passed through the college gates.

We spent the early part of Victoria’s birthday quietly together. At six o’clock, she took her ball dress out of the wardrobe. It was long, white and very simply cut. It had originally been made for her when she was seventeen for her coming-out debutante party. I could not help but be envious. She ate far more than me, but she slipped into it and the zip went up as if it had been fitted for her yesterday.

Then, with a great deal of ceremony, she brought out a battered purple velvet case from her bottom drawer. She had carried this with utmost care from England in anticipation of this very occasion. It contained the famous Dormouse diamonds. Early in the nineteenth century the magnificent parure had been bought by her great-great-great-grandfather for his young bride. In those days, the Dormouses had been rich. It consisted of a festoon necklace, pendant earrings, a hair ornament, and an indecently large brooch. To Victoria’s fury, these treasures were entailed through the male line so they did not belong to her. Instead, her eldest brother Billy would inherit them. But as it happened Victoria’s sister-in-law was not interested in jewellery and had always been happy to lend the set for special events. However, when we borrowed them, we had to pay the insurance. That comfortably disposed of my salary for the month.

We set off for the Sweetpea Country Club at seven. A mile outside the town, it had originally been the Porpoise tennis pavilion, but Thomas Jefferson’s father had handed it over to the club committee. It was another large colonial mansion surrounded by rolling green hills. As we drove through the club gates, we passed a golf course of unbelievable greenness. Thomas Jefferson was standing between two large pillars on the steps of the club greeting guests. An attendant took the keys to the Rolls, as I helped Victoria out of the car. Thomas Jefferson stepped down, kissed Victoria and shook my hand. “You look delightful, my dear,” he said. He gazed at the diamonds. “How magnificent!” He was awestruck.

“They’re the Dormouse diamonds,” I said. “Very historic. They belonged to Victoria’s great-great-great grandparents. We brought them over from England for the ball.”

Thomas Jefferson was speechless for a moment. He then turned to me. “And I see you are decorated as well.” I was wearing my OBE medal pinned on my lapel and felt quite ridiculous. “I thought you wanted me to wear it,” I said.

“Of course I did.”

Thomas Jefferson’s dinner jacket was unbuttoned. I noticed it was lined in pink silk with the new porpoise crest woven into it. He must have had it made for the occasion. As we walked up the steps, I pointed it out to Victoria. She giggled. “He seems to take heraldry very seriously,” she said.

Oscar and Nancy were standing near the entrance hall and introduced us to other guests. Again all the waiters were black They distributed champagne and canapés to the company. Then a gong was struck and it was announced that dinner was served. We filed into the club dining room and found our places. Victoria was seated next to Thomas Jefferson; I sat next to Nancy. I waved at Manford and Sherrie Wachman and the Mandril-Fortescue cousin who were all placed nearby. I also noticed the Perleys at a distant table. None of my other colleagues seemed to be there. Still, over two hundred guests were seated in the dining room. The windows were draped with filmy gold material and the room was lit by sparkling chandeliers.

In the middle of our table, Thomas Jefferson had placed his new punch bowl. Victoria was delighted and said how nice it looked. Thomas Jefferson was pleased. In fact it was a twin of the one we had already seen. He had had two made and had donated one to the club. Then a rather effete young man was introduced to us as Julian Bosie. He sat on the other side of Thomas Jefferson and was described as one of the most promising young painters of his generation.

The first course was caviar served on ice with hot toast. Thomas Jefferson gazed at Victoria and gestured to his young guest. “Here she is,” he said, “Isn’t she perfect!” Turning to Victoria, he asked: “My dear, would you be so kind as to let young Julian paint your portrait. It will be the making of
him. You must wear that beautiful dress with the Dormouse diamonds. It shall hang in the cottage. And remain there for posterity.”

Victoria looked astonished. “You want to paint me?”

“Of course!”

Thomas Jefferson stood up. Hush descended on the party. “Friends,” he said. “We are here today to welcome the new Thomas Jefferson Porpoise Distinguished Professor and his lovely wife to our little town. Professor Gilbert, as you all know, is a most important theologian who was recently honoured by the Queen of England.” (I thought momentarily of Lisa.) “And Mrs Gilbert, Victoria, is descended from a long line of English baronets. We are indeed privileged to have them among us and we must do everything we can to make them happy.”

Looking directly at Victoria, he smiled. “Now, I understand today is a special day. Will you all join me in singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Victoria. We must not let such an anniversary be forgotten!”

Victoria went bright pink and her smile became a little fixed as the room broke out in song. Afterwards, with some ceremony, Thomas Jefferson handed her a red leather box. “This is the small surprise I promised. A little something in token of this great occasion,” he declared. Victoria opened the box. Inside was a Paul Revere bleeding bowl. Victoria was overwhelmed. There was applause. I glanced at Mimi Perley as Thomas Jefferson sat down. She looked as if she were going to be sick.

After dinner there was dancing in the club ballroom. Thomas Jefferson began the ball with Victoria. I wondered if I was meant to ask the effete young artist, but I compromised by going over and sitting next to him. “Oh wow! I’ve never seen such beautiful diamonds,” said Julian Bosie. “I only hope I can do justice to them.”

“I’ve always rather preferred the lady,” I said.

When Thomas Jefferson and Victoria came back, it was young Julian’s turn to dance. I saw Victoria was going to have a tiring time. I began to feel sorry for Magnus who had to endure this every night.

Throughout the evening I was introduced to numerous guests. But other than the Perleys, they were few from the
college. At about midnight I asked Mimi to dance, and asked her why.

“Some of the administrators are here,” she said. “But they don’t ask faculty to events like this. Except Joel because he’s the chairman of your department. That’s the only reason why we’ve been invited.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

“We don’t count.” Mimi was angry. “We could never afford to be members of the country club. The entrance fee must be about twenty thousand dollars. Spouty isn’t interested in people like us.”

“But there’s the Faculty Club,” I said.

“That’s not a real club. Anybody can belong as long as they’re employed by the college.”

The music ended and I took Mimi back to her table. “Look,” she said. “Why don’t you and Victoria come over to us next week? Then you can see how the other half live.”

The ball finished at one, and we drove back to the cottage. “You know,” I said, “I can’t imagine how Magnus does it. Every night he has to do waltzes, fox-trots, sambas, and who knows what else with total strangers.”