difficulty, Theo suppressed a grin.
“Poor Sasha. That’s hard. Breakups are always hard.”
Sasha smiled.
He’s so nice. Maybe it’s because he’s younger than other professors? He can still remember what it’s like to be our age.
“How come you’re in college on a Sunday, Professor Dexter? Isn’t it your day off?”
“Sasha, if I have to tell you again I’m going to throttle you. It’s Theo, OK? You’re not in sixth form now.”
“OK.” Sasha giggled. “Sorry.”
“And yes, it is my day off, but to be perfectly honest with you I couldn’t face the silence at home.” His handsome brow furrowed. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said stoically. “What about you? Where are you off to?”
“The library,” said Sasha. “Thank God for research, eh? You can really lose yourself. There’s nothing like astrophysical plasmas to take one’s mind off things, don’t you find?”
Theo laughed aloud. She was so earnest.
“I tell you what. I’ve got a better idea. How about we cheer each other up? Have you ever seen the St. Michael’s wine cellars?”
“Of course not.” St. Michael’s College was renowned for having one of the best stocked, most valuable wine cellars not just in Cambridge but in all of Europe. For obvious reasons, undergraduates were not allowed access to them. Only a very small number of fellows had keys, and even they had to sign in to a logbook and follow certain time-honored security procedures.
“Would you like to?”
Sasha nodded eagerly. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but her dad was a keen amateur wine buff. If she passed up this chance he’d never forgive her.
“Good. Follow me.”
Theo led her over the bridge into Second Court. Pulling out a cluster of keys, he unlocked the heavy oak door to St. Michael’s Formal Hall and pushed it open. Sasha had eaten in Hall a few times. Like Theo she loved the formality and tradition of it, getting dressed up in her gown and all that. But she’d never seen the place empty. Being here now, alone, she felt like Beauty exploring the Beast’s enchanted castle. It was illicit and exciting.
“This way.”
She followed Theo up the steps to the high table, where the master and all the senior fellows sat. Sasha couldn’t resist running her fingers along the polished mahogany table as they walked its length, eventually coming to some steps that led down to a red velvet curtain. Behind the curtain was another door.
“It’s like Oz!” Sasha laughed.
“Isn’t it?” Theo unlocked the second door. A smell of damp stone, musty and ancient, hit Sasha in the face like a punch. Behind the door everything was dark. Theo fumbled for the light switch and a dim thirty-watt bulb flickered to life, revealing a winding stone staircase. “Either that or Scooby Doo. When I first came down here I confidently expected a mummy to leap out of one of the alcoves and start chasing me.”
Sasha thought,
He’s so much fun
. Guiltily she realized that she’d forgotten about Will already. His train wouldn’t even have reached London yet.
Edging their way down the staircase, leaning on the stone wall for support, they finally emerged into a vaulted redbrick crypt. Fumbling in his pocket for a lighter, Theo pulled it out, and to Sasha’s delight reached up and lit an old-fashioned oil lamp bracketed to the wall. The effect was marvelously Dickensian. Hundreds, no, thousands of dusty bottles danced in the light of the flickering flame. Theo lit another lamp, then a third. In the middle of the room was a simple refectory table with two benches and a single, high-backed chair with a cushion at the head. It was laid with about twenty wineglasses, long-stemmed and each topped with a bowl almost as big as Sasha’s head and an exquisite ivory corkscrew. At the back of the room was a rather tatty sofa and a rattan ottoman with a lid. Idly, Sasha wandered over and opened it. Inside were piles of neatly stacked blankets.
“It can get
“Poor Sasha. That’s hard. Breakups are always hard.”
Sasha smiled.
He’s so nice. Maybe it’s because he’s younger than other professors? He can still remember what it’s like to be our age.
“How come you’re in college on a Sunday, Professor Dexter? Isn’t it your day off?”
“Sasha, if I have to tell you again I’m going to throttle you. It’s Theo, OK? You’re not in sixth form now.”
“OK.” Sasha giggled. “Sorry.”
“And yes, it is my day off, but to be perfectly honest with you I couldn’t face the silence at home.” His handsome brow furrowed. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said stoically. “What about you? Where are you off to?”
“The library,” said Sasha. “Thank God for research, eh? You can really lose yourself. There’s nothing like astrophysical plasmas to take one’s mind off things, don’t you find?”
Theo laughed aloud. She was so earnest.
“I tell you what. I’ve got a better idea. How about we cheer each other up? Have you ever seen the St. Michael’s wine cellars?”
“Of course not.” St. Michael’s College was renowned for having one of the best stocked, most valuable wine cellars not just in Cambridge but in all of Europe. For obvious reasons, undergraduates were not allowed access to them. Only a very small number of fellows had keys, and even they had to sign in to a logbook and follow certain time-honored security procedures.
“Would you like to?”
Sasha nodded eagerly. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but her dad was a keen amateur wine buff. If she passed up this chance he’d never forgive her.
“Good. Follow me.”
Theo led her over the bridge into Second Court. Pulling out a cluster of keys, he unlocked the heavy oak door to St. Michael’s Formal Hall and pushed it open. Sasha had eaten in Hall a few times. Like Theo she loved the formality and tradition of it, getting dressed up in her gown and all that. But she’d never seen the place empty. Being here now, alone, she felt like Beauty exploring the Beast’s enchanted castle. It was illicit and exciting.
“This way.”
She followed Theo up the steps to the high table, where the master and all the senior fellows sat. Sasha couldn’t resist running her fingers along the polished mahogany table as they walked its length, eventually coming to some steps that led down to a red velvet curtain. Behind the curtain was another door.
“It’s like Oz!” Sasha laughed.
“Isn’t it?” Theo unlocked the second door. A smell of damp stone, musty and ancient, hit Sasha in the face like a punch. Behind the door everything was dark. Theo fumbled for the light switch and a dim thirty-watt bulb flickered to life, revealing a winding stone staircase. “Either that or Scooby Doo. When I first came down here I confidently expected a mummy to leap out of one of the alcoves and start chasing me.”
Sasha thought,
He’s so much fun
. Guiltily she realized that she’d forgotten about Will already. His train wouldn’t even have reached London yet.
Edging their way down the staircase, leaning on the stone wall for support, they finally emerged into a vaulted redbrick crypt. Fumbling in his pocket for a lighter, Theo pulled it out, and to Sasha’s delight reached up and lit an old-fashioned oil lamp bracketed to the wall. The effect was marvelously Dickensian. Hundreds, no, thousands of dusty bottles danced in the light of the flickering flame. Theo lit another lamp, then a third. In the middle of the room was a simple refectory table with two benches and a single, high-backed chair with a cushion at the head. It was laid with about twenty wineglasses, long-stemmed and each topped with a bowl almost as big as Sasha’s head and an exquisite ivory corkscrew. At the back of the room was a rather tatty sofa and a rattan ottoman with a lid. Idly, Sasha wandered over and opened it. Inside were piles of neatly stacked blankets.
“It can get
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