"And your answer would be, Miss Mackay?"
Professor Hawthorne's voice brought Gaby to her senses with a jolt.
"Wh... what?"
"Young lady, there are only four of us in this tutorial. Is it really too much to expect you to remain awake and paying attention? Are the rest of us really so uninteresting?"
Shit! Had she really dozed off only four feet away from her Tutor; the man whose final assessment would determine the quality of degree with which she would soon leave University?
"I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't sleep well last night. Would you mind repeating the question?"
The older man sighed resignedly.
"I know Monday mornings are never popular among students but with only a few months of study before the final examinations I would have thought..."
Gaby listened to Professor Hawthorne's lecture yet again. She knew it almost by heart and had actually recited it to her friends in the pub only two nights before. But she also knew if she had paid attention to its content months ago, she might not be in the difficult position she now faced.
She tried to look as if she was listening as the Professor droned on but concentrating was so hard after only three hours' sleep.
Once again, the 'glass of wine' with her flatmate Debbie the previous night had attracted the attention of the boys from the flat above. Once again the evening had developed into a long night of drinking, watching movies and playing cards. Once again she had fallen into bed around three o'clock and into her own bed two hours later, flushed and sticky.
Gaby believed in a work-hard-play-hard attitude to student life and had pursued this throughout her time in Oxford. During the first two years this hadn't mattered; the marks she had received had been excellent. They hadn't counted much towards her final degree but, confident in her ability, she had taken maximum advantage of all the ancient city had to offer a pretty, well-off girl.
Now, in her final year, all that had changed and every mark was vital if Gaby was to follow her mother into the legal profession. At first she had found this change hard to deal with and had found it impossible to give up her socially and sexually rewarding but academically damaging lifestyle.
As a result, her marks had started to slip! That would never do; apart from her own competitive nature, what would her hard-nosed, career oriented mother Julie say if Gaby failed to get the degree her abilities warranted?
Julie Mackay was a high-flying Queen's Counsel in London despite having been a single mother for several years after graduation. This, as everyone pointed out, was a difficult example for her daughter to live up to.
Gaby took after her mother physically but that was where the resemblance appeared to end. Julie Mackay was blonde, large-breasted and strikingly attractive. Like her rather errant daughter, she too had studied at Oxford, indeed, if Professor Hawthorne - the tutor they shared over twenty years apart - was to be believed, Julie had been a model student. Certainly she had graduated with a First Class degree, had been snapped up by one of the top five firms and her career had taken wings.
Gaby often suspected this wasn't the whole truth; after all she was only twenty two years younger than her mother; even the simplest of calculations showed that the Great Lady must have been pregnant when she left University and despite her mother's three marriages, no name for Gaby's genetic father had ever been forthcoming.
"I can't understand how so many of you waste so much of the precious opportunity you have been given..."
The Professor's voice droned on. Gaby tried to look as if she was listening but the throbbing in her head and the queasiness on her tummy were too great a distraction. She bit her lower lip to try and remain alert and looked at the Tutor they all referred to as 'the Old Man'.
In his baggy, unfashionable corduroy trousers, un-ironed checked shirt, badly knotted tie and shapeless cardigan, Professor Hawthorne looked the epitome of the distracted, unworldly Oxford Don. He was grey, unfit, a little stooping and even wore an ancient tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows.
Unmarried and of indeterminate age, he had avoided the usual rumours about closet homosexuality. In fact if anything he had acquired a reputation for looking a little too intently at his female students' breasts and legs during tutorials; the 'Old Man' had become the 'Dirty Old Man'.
Gaby had felt the weight of his appreciative gaze on her body many times, especially when wearing the low cut tops and very short skirts she preferred whatever the weather. But there had never been any suggestion of inappropriate physical contact and his relationships with the female academic and domestic staff appeared relaxed and cordial as if they found him friendly and unthreatening.
Whatever his appearance and sexual preferences might be, Professor Hawthorne's legal brain was still razor sharp as his many published opinions, articles and learned papers clearly testified. His acerbic, sarcastic wit was sharp too as Gaby herself had found out on several memorable occasions.
"Returning to my original question..."
To her relief, the Professor's admonition had ended and the tutorial recommenced and miraculously, Gaby found she knew the answer to the question she had missed. She replied and was complimented. She answered the next two questions correctly too and the rest of the morning's session passed much more productively.
As the college clock chimed twelve and the students rose to leave, the Professor asked her to remain for a few moments. Gaby's heart sank. This could only mean one thing; a further, personal lecture to follow his earlier admonitions to the group.
"You are aware your mother was one of my students, Miss Mackay?" he began, his eyes disconcertingly on Gaby's rather ample breasts.
Her heart sank; Gaby had already heard enough stories about her mother's hard work, attention to detail and general super-human abilities. She mentally switched off as he droned on a little longer but was brought back with a jolt at his next words.
"... but my opinion, your abilities exceed hers by some considerable distance."
"I'm sorry?" she stammered.
"You apologise too often, Miss Mackay. It's polite but a good lawyer knows when politeness appears as weakness."
"I'm sorr... I mean, is that so?" she asked. The Professor grinned.
"You are clearly a fast learner too. Take a seat."
Gaby sat on one of the hard-backed chairs and crossed her legs. Her skirt rode high up her bare thigh; she could see the Old Man's eyes follow every inch of its journey before he spoke.
"If you were to leave here with a First Class degree, your career path could be as impressive as your famous mother's - probably even more so - but your recent performance makes that unlikely."
His eyes were on her groin for the whole of this speech but it was too important a conversation to take offence; Gaby knew her recent marks had been below her best and had been reconciling herself to gaining only an Upper Second degree.
The Professor's words of confidence were astounding, but he hadn't finished; his eyes moved from her legs to her breasts and back as he continued:
"You still have six pieces of work still to complete. Two of them are already overdue so you will be marked down. I have no doubt that you will excel in the formal examinations so it is essential that you achieve the maximum possible in your remaining assignments."
Gaby needed no help paying attention now; the Old Man's words were the fastest hangover cure she had ever encountered. She crossed and re-crossed her legs awkwardly as his eyes apparently tried to see right through her top and knickers but his words could make her forgive him anything.
"I suggest you apply your considerable talents as a matter of urgency. I would hate to see such ability wasted on a mediocre result followed by a mediocre career. I'm sure your Mother feels the same."
"Of course Professor."
"Professor Mullins will mark your overdue assignments. He is strict so you can expect no more than an Upper Second."
Gaby frowned; Professor Mullins was notoriously mean. She was quite capable of producing First Class submissions in his subject but that would now be pointless. She cursed her laziness silently as Hawthorne' eyes scanned her from the flat shoes on her feet, along the full length of her legs, across her tiny skirt then over her breasts to her eyes where they seemed to burn into her flesh.
"Your final four submissions are my responsibility. The first is due next week. I suspect you are behind with this already so, out of respect for your mother I am prepared to grant you an extra week's grace. One week, no longer!"
"Thank you Professor. I will do my best."
"It will take your very best, young lady. This University does not award First Class degrees to any but the very best!"
***
Gaby worked hard over the next few days, spending hours in the library revising and working on her assignments, calculating and recalculating her marks to see how close she could get to the First Class degree she so badly wanted.
As predicted, the two overdue works were marked down by Professor Mullins; not as badly as they might have been but her total mark still looked uncertain.
