Romancing Robin Hood by Jenny Kane Page B

faintly discernible, ‘I’m Robert Franks. Everyone calls me Rob.’ ‘Grace.’
    â€˜Good journey?’ Dr Franks went into the usual routine of small talk as he led Grace towards the staff common room, and the chance of lunch and a more serious conversation about the forthcoming viva interview.
    After ordering a baked potato and cup of coffee apiece, they settled themselves by a window overlooking the expanse of parkland beyond the university. Grace stared out across the green landscape, her eyes mentally removing the lampposts, litterbins, and students, to see it with medieval eyes.
    â€˜It’s a nice view, isn’t it? Dr Franks was watching Grace intently, ‘They tell me the grounds run to about 330 acres.’
    Grace found herself blushing under the intensity of his stare, and was furious with herself for letting his piercing blue gaze affect her.
    â€˜That’s a lot of walking.’ Her voice sounded rather brusque as she attempted to regain her composure, wishing that Dr Franks wasn’t quite so attractive, and then tacitly rebuked herself for being so superficial.
    Mellowing her tone, Grace added, ‘I’ve never been up here for food before.’
    â€˜I’m surprised; I assumed you’d have been an examiner here before.’
    â€˜Not here, no. I had your department head come to Leicester last year though.’
    â€˜So, this is the return match?’
    She smiled; her preconception that Dr Franks was going to be stuffy and without a proper dry British sense of humour already dissolving, ‘Indeed.’
    â€˜I should apologise,’ Rob said as he picked up a thin paper serviette and flapped it carefully over his lap, ‘I wanted to ask you to be the external examiner in the first place, but some politics became involved.’ ‘As usual,’ Grace chipped in.
    â€˜As usual! And I had to ask a bod up in Durham first.
    â€˜David? He’s a nice chap. Damn clever.’
    â€˜I’ve not met him. Excellent reputation of course, but not exactly right for the subject in this case, although I’m sure he’d have coped brilliantly.’
    â€˜He would have. No question.’
    â€˜You sound very sure. You know him well?’
    â€˜He was the external at my own viva.’
    â€˜No way! How did you get on?’
    â€˜Well, I failed, obviously!’
    â€˜Oh, ha ha!’
    Grace’s memory filled with the full horror of the occasion. She’d never been so nervous before or since. As she’d sat before her examiners, knowing that the next few hours would determine the course of her career, she’d been almost paralyzed with fear until her examiner, who she now knew on first name terms, had smiled at her and asked her a question about how the stories of Robin Hood had influenced criminal activity in the later middle ages. From that moment it had been a breeze – well, it had been as good as a nightmare can get.
    â€˜So,’ Grace asked, ‘what happened to stop David facing the train trip south?’
    â€˜He got a better offer.’
    â€˜Makes sense,’ Grace chewed thoughtfully, ‘and so, here I am, saving you at the last minute.’
    â€˜Like Robin Hood himself.’
    Grace tried to ignore the effect the mischievous twinkle that had appeared at the corner of her companions eyes was having on her. ‘Tell me about the student, what was it, Christopher something?’
    â€˜Christopher Ledger; he came over from Houston with me.’
    â€˜Really?’ ‘It’s not as dodgy as it sounds. His Dad works in the oil industry. For Texaco or BP – I never was sure which. He was over there for four years before coming back to live in Aberdeen. The contract in Houston was almost up, so as I was coming home, Chris got a room in halls here for six months and came too. His family are back in Scotland now.’
    â€˜So he’ll head back up there once we’re done here