Page 42 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
They all murmured agreement.
The conversation turned to the future. Most of the Zoology finalists were leaving in the summer, and although it was only Easter there was already a sense that their time together was ending. They wouldn’t see so much of one another after the holiday because there was no more teaching and they would scatter to work on their individual projects.
‘I can’t believe it’s almost over,’ Anne Southgate sighed. ‘Three years’ work packed into my head and poured out on the page. I’ll have forgotten it all by next week. Then it’ll begreat crested newts and nothing else till the summer. And after that? Who knows?’
‘July and August off, then I’m looking for a job,’ Peggy put in wistfully.
‘I will be, too,’ George said, sitting beside her. They smiled at one another. ‘We’ve some news actually,’ he added, blushing.
‘We’re engaged,’ Peggy said bashfully.
Their corner rang with squeals of congratulations from the girls and hoots of derision from the boys. Sentimental tears sprang to Anne Durban’s eyes. James gamely went to the bar to see if they had champagne, but returned disappointed. Nancy, sitting opposite Peggy and seeing her happiness, was glad for her. She liked George and wasn’t surprised by the announcement – since that Welsh holiday, the pair had been inseparable – but she bit her lip against a tinge of disappointment, remembering Peggy’s delight in her studies. Her ambition would likely now be swallowed up by marriage and children.
Nancy and Anne Durban were keen to stay on to do doctorates. Several of the boys were, too – James, definitely, Raj and, she suspected, Edmund. James would have to wait, though. He and most of the younger men were glumly viewing the prospect of eighteen months’ National Service first. Edmund and Michael had already done their stint for their country and Raj, being of Indian nationality, was exempt. The remainder of the year’s cohort would go out into the world to be schoolteachers or civil servants or, in wealthy Diana’s case, who knew what. She intended, she said mysteriously, to travel and have adventures.
On Saturday evening, Nancy was among the last to arrive at the imposing red-brick mansion block in Kensington where the Briggses lived. She pressed the bell for Number One and leaned against a pillar, taking in the quietness of the wide street now bathed in early evening sunlight. When the door opened, she was admitted to an elegant hallway with a black and white chequered floor by a brittle young woman in a maid’s white apron whom she recognized as one of the departmental secretaries. ‘The Briggs flat is first door on the left,’ the girl said sharply, clearly resentful of her role this evening. She ushered Nancy into a high-ceilinged drawing room that was already buzzing with polite conversation. Here she joined a circle of her fellow students. Glancing round, she thought they all appeared unnaturally smart. Except James, who was still wearing his black coat and who looked her up and down, making her feel she looked peculiar. In fact, she’d taken care to look her best this evening, in a calf-length midnight blue dress that she’d sewn herself and a diamanté brooch borrowed from her mother that reflected the sparkle in her eyes. She wanted to make a good impression, particularly on the professor, on whom her future would depend.
‘Miss Foster, glad you made it.’ The man himself appeared beside her, unusually affable and dressed in an ancient dress suit that smelled slightly of mothballs. He thrust a glass of wine into her hand and introduced her to his wife. Bridget Briggs, a small, quietly spoken woman with a faded prettiness, offered her a sausage roll from a plate with a doily and asked if she’d come far.
‘I must have a private word with Miss Foster, my dear,’the professor murmured and, taking Nancy’s elbow, he drew her aside.
‘I wanted to talk to you about next year,’ he murmured, his breath a warm cloud of whisky, and she glanced up at him in wary surprise. ‘You are planning to stay on, aren’t you?’
‘To study for a doctorate? Yes, I am,’ she stuttered, flattered that he’d asked. ‘If my results are good enough.’
‘Oh, I’m sure they will be.’
Delight filled her. She stood straighter. ‘I haven’t thought of a precise subject yet. Does that matter?’
‘Not necessarily. You must choose something entomological, of course.’
‘I wondered if that might be the case.’
‘It would suit us best if you did. Easier to find a supervisor in the department. I could advise you. In fact, I might take you on myself if I like your specialism.’
‘I’d be very honoured, of course.’ In truth, she wasn’t sure what she really thought about that. Even though he’d appeared to have forgotten the cat incident, it was difficult to feel at ease with him. And would he have time to take an interest?
‘I know mostly what the men’s plans are, but what about the rest of you young ladies? Any among you who might be persuaded?’
‘To…?’
‘Undertake doctorates, of course. What about Miss Durban?’
‘Anne? She was talking of it, but you must ask her yourself.’
‘Good, good. Any of the others? If you would encourage them, I’d be delighted.’
She met his rheumy gaze with troubled eyes, any feeling of being special dying within her. He picked a sausage roll from an offered plate and ate it in two bites, shedding greasy crumbs down his shirt front.
‘I… I don’t know about the others.’ She tried to inch away without him noticing. ‘I don’t think so, but perhaps if their results are good they might change their minds.’
‘Oh, don’t worry too much about the results. A reasonable second will be enough.’
‘But they’ll need to be high enough to apply for grants…’
‘I can write persuasive references.’
She was puzzled. ‘It’s encouraging,’ she said, ‘that you do want us girls. I know someone – I won’t say who – well, she applied to a different university and got nowhere.’
