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.”