Page 118 of Oar Than Friends

Except, over the past week, since the newspapers had reported their story about the President of the Oxford University Boat Club not only dating the American-born coxswain for the Cambridge Blue Boat but going head-to-head against her in the Boat Race at the end of March, ‘fine’ had sunk quicker than a lead weight dropped from London Bridge.

Instead, a slow news week had been blown apart by a new spin on a centuries’ old-rivalry.

‘I’ve been better, sir,’ I replied truthfully.

‘Yes, I’ve no doubt you have, and we’ve all had better weeks. But I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’task whether your head is still in the game. If you’re still capable of leading the crew and representing this university.’

I took a deep breath, reading between the lines of unspoken words.

Was I distracted?

Could I still win the race?

Where did my allegiance lie?

The answers were yes, yes and with Kate. But that didn’t mean I was about to give up my presidency. My seat on the boat was the only place I felt calm, the only place my head cleared enough for me to think about the task at hand. The only place I was free from distraction.

‘I am, Coach. I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Because after what happened on Wednesday …’

He left his sentence hanging in the air, but we both knew what the rest of it was and he was testing to see if my anger was still raging enough that I’d take a cricket bat to something else.

On Wednesday, Will Norris had called to tell me about the guy who’d followed their Tideway training in a speedboat, and driven so close to them that an oar became mangled. The wake from the propeller had been powerful enough that most of the crew were tipped into the water.

Kate had been so distraught she couldn’t speak, and thus my anger – the one I’d inherited from my father – had made its presence well known. Not only had I not been there to protect her, I wasn’t there to comfort her either. I had a lot of property to replace, including a section of the locker rooms where the doors were now so dented they wouldn’t close properly.

My fists clenched. ‘Coach, that guy nearly capsized the Cambridge boat during practice. He had no business being out on the water. He put everyone in danger to get a picture of Kate, which wouldn’t have happened were it not for me. This entire situation is my fault, so yes, I was angry …’ I stopped, taking another deep breath. It was deep enough for my heart rate to slow so that I didn’t feel the need to smash something else. ‘I’m still angry. But as long as the Cambridge crew and Kate are safe, then I’ll be okay. Neither of us is giving up our spot in the race. We’ve both earned them fair and square.’

He stared at me, and I used the time to calm my heart by several more beats. My resting heart rate usually sat at forty-seven bpm, and to get it to the point where it felt like my chest was about to cave in took a lot of effort. Or the tabloid media, evidently.

‘Coach Westcott and I had a call with the Thames Coastguard this morning, and it’s been decided that from now up to race day all training for Cambridge and Oxford will be supervised by the Marine Police Unit.’

My eyes widened at his words and my surprise from his announcement also had me sitting up straighter, ‘Oh, that’s good to hear. Thank you. Thanks Coach, I appreciate it.’

‘We also have campus security on the boathouse and stationed here at Fleming,’ he added, and if he’d still been wearing his glasses, he’d be peering over them at me. ‘It should deter any unwanted visitors, but try and keep a low profile over the next few weeks, will you?’

‘Yes, Coach,’ I nodded. ‘I’m only at the house, lecturesor at training anyway. It’s other people who think my life is way more interesting than it is.’

I noticed a small twitch at the corner of his mouth, but it disappeared before it turned into a full smile at my weak joke. ‘Very well.’

‘Was there anything else?’

‘No, you can go.’

‘Thank you, Coach. I’m truly sorry about all this. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.’

‘It’s not your doing, Osbourne. This is not your fault, nor your responsibility. You’re a good kid, you work harder than most I’ve seen come through these doors, and you don’t deserve it. We needed some new lockers anyway,’ he added with a wide grin, picking up a stack of papers, which had been thrown into one of the trays on his desk. ‘I have to say, it’s a first for me. The Boat Race doesn’t normally make it off the sports pages, especially seven weeks out.’

‘Glad I could be of service,’ I replied, making sure my tone was as droll as possible, and stood up.

Coach was already sifting through more of his in-tray by the time I left to find Brooks and Charlie waiting for me outside the door. I should have known they’d be there. Even though we were all going home together, and I was driving, over the last week they’d turned into my shadows.

Their presence had helped me keep a semblance of calm while my anger slowly bubbled under the surface and ran through my veins. They’d also been the ones to hold me back before I smashed up the entire boathouse.

‘How did that go?’ asked Charlie, turning to walk downthe corridor, sticking closer to me than Biscuit, my Labrador.

I shrugged, moving an inch nearer to Brooks on the other side of me. ‘Good, I guess. He spoke to Westcott this morning and the coastguard police – or someone – will be supervising all the Tideway training moving forward, for Cambridge and us.’

---