This is the final "relationships" segment. After this chapter the story focuses on the struggle against Rotkoff.
Chapter fourteen - Denise and Andy
as reported by Laura.
May 1956.
After our engagement party, Philip and I did not see Denise for several weeks. We had plenty to keep us busy.
Philip was snowed under with reading and research as great chunks of the world seemed to be falling apart.
Deep cracks were appearing in the hitherto monolithic Soviet bloc, with Kruschchev's denunciation of Stalin seeming to invite insurrection from the Satellite states of Poland, Hungary and East Germany.
In the Middle East the situation was equally stressed, as a dangerous level of tension was developing between Israel and the new nationalist leader of Egypt, Gamel Abdel Nasser, who was assiduously promoting an United Arab Republic.
Philip was trying hard to project the implications of these hotspots on the volatile international economy, especially when there was talk of a need for a return to petrol rationing, and the inevitable price rises of basic commodities.
The speed of change was creating stresses in Philip's own business. He could not express the depth of his contempt for Atlee and Churchill's inability to see the consequences of their boycott of the European Coal, Iron and Steel Community.
As soon as the Iron and Steel industries were safe from nationalisation, his customers were pressing him to recommend good safe investments in steel companies, and he was getting tired of telling them that his recommendation was to sell any existing holdings and, not, under any circumstances, make any such purchases.
His categorical veto actually led to the loss (temporary in both cases) of two good clients.
I, on the other hand, was throwing myself into revision for my first year exams. I really needed good marks in these, or my choices of honours schools would be severely limited.
I wanted to be accepted into the double honours programme, although I knew it meant a lot of extra work, and I had set my sights on taking Dr. Dinsmore's Shakespeare's England for my dissertation subject. I could not think of letting down Philip and may family by doing less than my best.
Of course we were not so busy that we could not find time for fun and games. Judy and I had read The Lustful Turk together, reading out the best bits in affected upper-class ladylike tones, so it naturally turned into a role-play in which I, playing Emily, and Judy playing Sylvia (or sometimes Eliza the maid) tried in vain to protect the sanctity of our bottoms from Philip as the Lustful Turk himself. It was one of our most successful games.
***
On Thursday morning I was sitting at my usual table in the Library. I was reading up Pythagoras and the messy aftermath of the siege of
Syracuse.
Pythagoras, so the story goes, was running for the high hills pursued by Roman soldiers when he came to a field of beans in full flower. He devoutly believed that the flowers sheltered the souls of the recently dead awaiting reincarnation. He could not go back, and he could not cross the field so he waited, quietly for the soldiers to come and kill him.
A sad and moving story. My fickle mind jumped to a favourite gag by Max Miller.
"Well there I was Missus. I was crossing a narrow bridge and walking towards me was this beautiful girl. Tell you what Missus, I couldn't decide whether to toss myself off; or block her passage."
It made me giggle uncontrollably. What a vulgar little trollop I was! I thought how Philip's mum, Madge would have roared at the joke, and, sadly, how my mother would have put on one of those pained expressions as if there were a bad smell just under her nose.
That was the end of work for that morning. I wondered if Philip could be prevailed upon to give me a quick one over his beautiful desk. Maybe he would like the chance to block my passage. What was there to lose? I walked down University Road and into New Walk.
As it turned out, Philip was out, but Joan handed me a note dated the previous day, asking me to call Denise, so I picked up the phone on Philip's desk and dialled.
"Hello, Denise. It's Laura. you left a message for me to call you, and I've only just got it. Hope it was nothing urgent."
"No darling, not urgent at all. I haven't seen you and Philip since the engagement party, and I just wanted to catch up".
"Tell me about your new gentleman friend you mean."
"Yes that's right. Are you free some lunchtime soon?"
"Let's see. Tomorrow seems ok. I've got a tutorial at eleven and lectures from three to five. Shall I come over to yours? I can get the bus down the Harborough road and walk from there. It's only ten, fifteen minutes."
"Good then. See you tomorrow sometime after half twelve. It be good to let our hair down and have a good old natter."
Shortly after one the following day I was walking up the long gravelled drive, admiring the colourful display of wisteria in full flower, smothering the weathered brick frontage of Foxton Lodge.
Denise must have been watching out, as she opened the door just as I raised my hand to the bell.
"Laura! Lovely to see you. Come in, the kettle's on and I've made us something to eat."
Denise is the soul of courtesy. I could see she was dying to tell me all about Andy and herself, but first of all she had to be sure that I was comfortable, and that all was well in my life.
In reply to Denise's polite enquiries, I explained that we were snowed under with work, but otherwise fine. I passed on Philip and Judy's greetings, and settled back to hear the news.
