I was seated in my room. The open window of my bedroom let the sounds and smells of summer waft inside on the gentle breeze that made the curtains flutter. The laughter of children as they played in the street, music playing from other open windows and the smell of barbecues coming from unknown backyards. After a wet May, the weather had taken a turn for the better, June had become sunny and warm. People had taken to sitting outside and enjoying the weather in the parks and squares that littered central Manchester.
I, on the other hand, had things on my mind. My upcoming Viva Voce, my future career and the other unwanted distraction, namely Sam. Don’t get me wrong,Sam was funny, generous, good looking and a popular person. We got on well, we’d had more dates, usually twice a week in between studies, lectures and Sam’s work. We'd go to the pictures, ten pin bowling, where Sam usually won as I’m not a competitive person, or a drink in a local pub or down Canal st. Then we’d end up having sex. But to me that’s all it was, sex, I could never call it making love, it was sex, nothing more. And there lies the problem, whether Sam knew it or not, he was a selfish lover. He always finishes before me, never taking the time to look after my needs. Just like that time in Manto, he was looking after his own needs before anyone else’s. I suppose I could have talked to him but I didn’t, so some of the blame lies on me. I guess the initial want on my part had faded somewhat.
Momentarily I glance down at my notes,trying to make sure everything is ok for my viva voce that’s coming up this week. But I’m too distracted. So I go back to looking out the window. The house is quiet as Sam and Mel have gone to the park, they asked if I wanted to go but I declined as I’m too concerned about this week's date with destiny. I don’t know what, or even if Mel knows about Sam and I’s budding relationship. I haven’t spoken about it and she hasn’t asked. I left it at that, I’d too much going on to worry about what, or if Mel was thinking about Sam and I.
Frustrated with my lack of concentration, I head over to my bed, and throw myself onto the mattress with a thwump, putting my arms behind my head, I close my eyes
and I ponder more. I can’t help the feeling that Sam is going through the motions regarding our so-called relationship. He knows I like to play things by the book. I’m old fashioned. I want to fall in love, to date, then live with a man who respects me for who I am, not what he wants me to be. It’s my belief that Sam is using me for sexual relief, that he doesn’t really want a relationship, that he’s just using me, because after all he’s got his finals as well, so he’s too busy, or should be, to go looking for sex down Canal st. So he’s using me as a distraction, to get his mind off his finals. Is that the right thing to do? Or am I reading too much into the situation? Or is Sam really trying hard to have a relationship with me? I should talk to him, open up and tell him my feelings, but I won’t because I’m a coward when it comes to talking about my feelings. I’d sooner lock myself away hoping the problem will go away.
The slamming of the door startled me, loud voices drift up the stairs, then the thump of shoes coming up the stairs. My door opens and a handsome head pops round the half open door. It’s Sam.
“Hey you coming for something to eat mr? Me and Mel are going for a Chinese.”
“Oh er. I don’t know. I'm worried about my viva this week, I wouldn’t be good company.” Even to my ears it sounds like I’m whining. I internally wince.
Sam enters. He’s wearing blue knee length shorts that’s all the rage, and a tight fitting white t-shirt, with ankle socks and trainers, he looks good and he knows it.
“Come on, don’t be miserable, you need a distraction, we all do, you're not the only one stressed at the moment, we’re all going through finals and exams, so I’m not taking no for an answer.”
He grabs me, pulls me off my bed, and pulls me into him, locking his arms around himself and kisses me.
“Besides I’ve got a great distraction later, if you're good.” He kisses me again.
I groaned, my stomach at that moment decided to betray me by growling. “Ok I’ll go give me 5 minutes.”
“Don't worry, Mel and I will be having showers. Be ready in half an hour.” Sam left me alone again. I swore and fell back onto my bed.
I unlocked the front door and gestured for my housemates to enter the house. The meal had been eaten at a local Chinese restaurant where we had eaten before, though rarely. Student loans and stipends, after all, will only go so far. The conversation had been about exams, my viva voce and what we were planning on doing after uni had finished. There had been no mention of Sam and I’s relationship.
Sam went upstairs bidding us goodnight, though I suspected that it wouldn’t be long before he was in my room for sex. Mel and I entered the kitchen. Mel crossed her arms and looked at me sternly.
“So what’s the deal between you and Sam? You’ve both been going out on the town without asking me, you both have been creeping about at night in each other's rooms, looking at each other furtively. Let me guess. You're shagging him.”
I blushed, then stammered a response. “O ... .ok we’ve been going out, seeing each other and shagging as you so succinctly put it. I can’t understand why we’ve been keeping it quiet. I guess it happened by accident.”
I went on to explain how we got together, embarrassment washed over me as I explained. Mel said nothing, only moving to sit at the table. Finally I finished.
Mel gave a laugh. “I never took you for a rocker, life is full of surprises. It just goes to show your human. But be wary of Sam, I’ve known him longer than you. I first met him at fetish nights held down Canal st. He went with sir Mat, I with Molly, we became friends. Then when I confided in him that I wanted new digs, we found this place”.
She gestured grandly around her as she spoke. Then she continued.
“Molly wouldn’t let me go home during the Summer. Needless to say I was furious, we ended up having a big argument. Things happened that I won’t discuss here. Finally I snapped, and walked out going home for the final week of the summer break last year.”
I was stunned by her admission and was quietly glad she didn’t go into too much detail. She continued her tale as I sat at the table near, me clasping her hand.
Mel continued. “While I’ve lived here with you two. I realized that I didn’t really know him, he does things for himself, for his own reasons, he does nothing for others if it doesn’t gain him in some way. Be careful Andrew”.
“I’ve realized that myself. I can’t understand if he actually wants a relationship or whether he’s just going through the motions for some other reason that he hasn’t let on.”
“Time will tell, maybe you should talk to him about your fears.”
“No, I think I will wait, it will all come out in the wash eventually.”
We both stood at the same time, then hugged and went our separate ways.
A few days later I was seated in an austere corridor, on an uncomfortable hard plastic chair. Sweat beading my brow. My Dark Blue Suit felt uncomfortable, I fidgeted and ran my finger under my collar, my notes in my lap. Post it notes stuck in pages of information I would need. Professor De Silva had drummed into me how important it was to be thoroughly prepared.
Neon tube lighting gave out a bright light that was slowly giving me a headache. So I sipped my bottle of water. A closed door with an A4 sized sheet of paper sellotaped to it with the words Viva Voce in progress scrawled on it. That was for me, this was the day of my Viva Voce, the day I’d been preparing myself for years, the day that would determine my future life would I be what I wanted or would I go through life a failure? Always dogged by it.
Finally after what seemed ages the door slowly opened. I stood on shaky legs. Professor De Silva looked at me with a look of sympathy on her usually stern face.
“Are you ready Andrew?”
I approached, we shook hands. “Yes I’m ready.” I slowly followed her through the door to my future destiny.
The small austere room felt stuffy and overcrowded, white walls, with a cheap grey carpet and a brown desk with 5 hard plastic chairs, one for me and two opposite for my examiners. Another 2 chairs sat against a wall. One had a woman I’d never met before sat in it. She was a woman of middle years with a friendly face, dyed blond hair, grey eyes, sensible shoes on her feet and a flowing floral dress. Professor De Siva sat herself in the other one. I shook hands with the unknown woman , then she spoke.
“Hello, I’m Mandy White, and I’m the independent chair for your Viva Voce today. I'm here to make sure it’s done in a fair manner. I will not participate in your examination and you’ve requested that your supervisor is present, Professor De Silva like me won’t participate in it. Make yourself comfortable, be seated and let’s begin.”
All this I knew as Professor De Silva and I had spoken at length about this. But it was reassuring to hear it again. I took off my jacket, putting it carefully on the back of the chair. Loosened my tie and placed my notes on the table with my bottle of water, shook hands with my 2 examiners and sat at the table.
The 2 examiners sat opposite me, one, I partly knew as I had helped him in a lecture once, he was Professor Micheal Stanley. A tall man about 35 years old, with an attractive face with neat black hair and dark eyes. Again Professor De Silva and I had previously spoken about who my examiners should be, we both agreed that as my thesis was about the 1906 general election and its part in the overall downfall of the liberal party, that my two examiners should be from politics and History, so Prof Stanley from Manchester University was a professor of Politics. And the other was a professor of history.
Professor Cambell Graham was Professor of 20th Century History from Dundee University. He was a proud Scot of middle height and weight, a bald head with almost no hair and brown eyes full of intense intelligence, his broad Scottish accent stood in contrast to Professor Stanley’s West Country one.
“Welcome to your Viva Voce Andrew.” Prof Stanley began. “Prof Graham and I are here to examine your thesis, not to criticise it, though it may seem like it at times.” He smiled at me. I smiled back nervously.
Prof Graham, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “Well Laddie, we’ve both read your thesis. This examination will take the following route. 1, thesis defence. You are expected to present and defend your work. 2, knowledge assessment. We will probe your knowledge of your work and your knowledge in your chosen field. 3, Confirmation of originality. We will ensure that the work is your own and clarify any collaborations 4, final Decision. We will decide whether you have met the requirements for your degree. The total exam will last approximately 2 hours.”
I began by explaining how I got interested in the topic in which I decided to do my thesis, how I went about it, my research material, any conversations with authors and other professors or politicians and how I came about my final conclusions. As I spoke I warmed to my subject. I became more animated and excited, after all this thesis had taken me 3 years I knew the subject inside out and I was determined to defend it come what may.
The 2 examiners listened in silence, then asked questions, starting simply then upping the ante to more complicated questions, Prof Stanley asked questions about the political side of the argument whilst Prof Graham asked about the historical aspect of my work, he seemed interested in how I came to the conclusion that a massive liberal majority began the downfall of the liberals. Prof Stanley concentrated his questions on the Gladstone McDonald pact; he was determined to question if the pact had made any real change in the overall final result of the Election. I gave reference to my research in constituencies, stating in detail where no liberal candidates stood, Labour candidates won.
The debate carried on between the 3 of us, the examiners asking their questions about my thesis, my sources of research and reference material, conversations with politicians and Professors alike. Prof Graham argued that historically the splits in the Liberal party was the reason for the demise of the Liberals, not a general election where the liberals won a 106 seat majority in the House of Commons. I countered that although that was historically accurate. The fact that the Liberals stood down in seats where Labour won, meant that in parts of the country liberals lost contact with ordinary voters, it also gave Labour a foothold in Parliament that it otherwise wouldn’t have had. I showed them my research of previous elections that the Liberals had won particular constituencies, then lost them to Labour by standing aside, because they were concerned about a potential split in the left wing vote giving the Conservative Party a win they otherwise wouldn’t have had. Labour would have had fewer MPs if there had been no Gladstone McDonald pact, it would have taken longer for Labour to organise into a single political machine, in which time, maybe the Liberals may have sorted out their differences, thereby making it much harder for Labour to become the major political party it is today. As a result, I concluded the Liberals, unbeknownst to them at the time, gave the fledgling Labour movement a leg up they didn’t really need. And thereby by default, began the decline of the Liberal Party.
Besides I argued. Liberal policy was to look after the interests of industry, not necessarily the workers who worked in it. So after the 1906 general election and the Labour representatives had increased from 3 to 29, it was a direct consequence of the Gladstone McDonald pact, they were then able to organise into the Labour Party and not the Labour representation committee it had been, therefore they could look after the wants and rights of the industrial poor, bypassing the Liberals.
I thought I’d argued my thesis well , 2 hours seemed to have flown by, I glanced up at the clock as Prof Stanley wound up proceedings.
“Well Andrew thankyou for presenting and arguing your thesis, if you’d like to wait outside for a short while Prof Graham and myself will make our final decision.”
We all stood and shook hands. I collected my things and opened the door, leaving the examiners to themselves. I collapsed into the seat I’d been sitting in before my now completed Viva Voce. Closing my eyes, I mopped my brow, and sighed a contented sigh, I did all I could to argue my thesis, it was now up to the 2 Professors. All I could do was wait.
Eventually the door opened, my heart gave a lurch as Prof Stanley’s head popped around the opening door.
“Well Andrew if you’d like to come back in we will give you our final thoughts.”
I sat back in my seat, my thesis in front of me. Prof Stanley spoke first. “Well Andrew I read your thesis with interest, and I was intrigued as to how you’d defend it. I’m impressed as to your depth of knowledge in your subject. And your passion in defending it. My interest was in the political facts, I was also impressed by the arguments you made in defending your argument that the 1906 general election started the decline in the liberals, you never denied that it was the later splits that finished the liberals as a major political party, then to round it off you gave a defense of your argument how the later future of the liberals could have been different had the Gladstone McDonald pact had never been agreed, well done Andrew.”
Prof Graham spoke next. “My interest was in the historical facts of your argument. The fact the liberals were the main political party in the Victorian era and then became a political minority in such a short time, isn’t in doubt, the fact that splits in the Liberals was the main cause of their demise you never denied. Instead you took a different approach. That was that their landslide victory somehow began their downfall, not only that but you went into such minute detail and depth in your research, that alone deserves credit. Your research into the Gladstone McDonald pact is also to be commended”.
He picked up his copy of my thesis. “This work, in the future will become a seminal work of reference for future students in history and politics, well done laddie I’m impressed.”
Prof Stanley concluded. “ Andrew we’ve looked not only at your work but your grammar, both your research into the history and the grammar you use and the credits to your sources is also highly commendable. We’ve no problem in commending your thesis to be put into print by the Manchester University Press. We’ve also no problem in awarding you your doctorate in history. Congratulations Dr Andrew Roberts.”
Both Professors stood, as did I. It’s hard to quantify my relief in the final result. I grinned from ear to ear. Professor De Silva and Mandy White who had been sitting quietly both came over to warmly congratulate me, I even got a hug off the usually stern Prof De Silva.
That was it I was now a Dr in History. My education was over. My future spread in front of me like a meadow on a summer day. No more doubts existed. My future was bright. It was at that moment that I confirmed a decision I had made before the death of my supervisor and mentor, Prof Barry Brown.
“If you don’t mind”, I said to the assembled professors. “I would like to dedicate the published work to the late Professor Brown. His help in this thesis was invaluable and it's possible that it might not have been finished if not for him.”
Professor De Silva spoke. “That’s a great gesture to a popular Professor, it’s a kind thought and he would be proud of you”. The rest of the Professors agreed with my decision.
A short time later I was seated in Professor Jean Taylor’s office, alongside Prof de Silva, we had cups of tea and biscuits, the atmosphere was polite and relaxed. We had been chatting about our studies and antics we got up to as students, I was slightly taken aback by the realization that both these ladies had once been students. Finally Prof Taylor changed the subject.
“Well Andrew your education is over, have you thought about your future career.”
“No, not really. I’ve been concentrating on my thesis.”
“Have you thought about lecturing? Your passion in your subject is without doubt. You know the university, the students, how we work. I’m not saying you’d be a shoe in. You’d still need to be interviewed. But I wouldn’t stand in your way if you applied for Prof Brown's Job as Lecturer in 20th century history at Manchester university.”
I was stunned. I stammered a response. “I’m n ... .not sure, w…what about you Prof De Silva, haven't you taken on the roll?”
Prof De Silva smiled. “Only on a temporary basis. I’ve left Warwick and am taking on a role at Cambridge as a Professor in History there in the autumn.”
“Oh congratulations Professor. I didn’t know. I…I must admit I have thought a bit about being a lecturer. But whether it was here or somewhere else, I hadn’t really considered. I will definitely consider it, thankyou for the offer.” Prof De Silva glowed with pride.
“Thankyou Andrew, it’s been my life’s dream to work at Oxford or Cambridge. You’ve got a great future ahead of you Andrew”
Prof Taylor spoke. “And if you do get the lecturer's job, you could do it part time, giving you more time to write, that is something I know you enjoy. Plus you’d be published. I agree with Professors De Silva, Graham, Stanley and the late Professor Brown that your thesis be published by Manchester University Press. So in the fullness of time I’m in no doubt that you will be awarded a full Professorship.”
I glowed with pride all the way back to Laburnum st. Both Mel and Sam squealed with delight at my news, we all hugged and then decided to celebrate. We ate again at the local Chinese restaurant, and partied in the Red Lion, till way after closing. University life was coming to an end for Sam and I as well as the year was coming to an end for Mel. She was looking forward to going home for the summer, and next autumn being the main occupant of 21 Laburnum st.
A couple of days later I had just posted my application for the job of history lecturer at Manchester University and was sitting at my desk in my bedroom when a knock on the door made me jump. A second later Sam came in holding an opened letter and wearing a big grin. He came over to me, wrapped his arms around me, we kissed.
“I’ve had a job offer.” He said holding me in his arms.
“Oh really, that’s great news.” I replied, smiling and releasing myself from Sam’s arms. “So tell me more”.
He sat on the bed, I moved to sit next to him.
“Well.” Began Sam. “As you know, my Dad works in the City as an investment banker. While I was home I had an interview with Barclays. They’ve offered me a position.”
Sam looked at me smiling. He continued. “Not only have they offered me a position, but they've recommended I work at the office in New York.”
I looked at him puzzled, “New York? Why New York?”
Well my Dad travels a lot to New York, to advise about business deals between London and the U.S. So Dad, with his influence at Barclays, managed to persuade his bosses that a New York based Brit in the accounting division would be good for business.”
I realized where this conversation was going. And why soon after Sam had got back after his Easter break that he had taken a sudden interest in me. I stood and faced Sam. Mel’s words ringing in my ears. Realizing that Sam does things for his own sake. I stood, turned and faced him, bristling.
“So let’s get this right, you go home for Easter, have an interview with your Dads bank, knowing that you will probably be offered a job, you decided to settle down and I was the best candidate. So when you got back you cosied up to me, finding me rocking out and knowing I would be embarrassed, you used it against me, correct.”
Sam looked up at me, a look of shock on his face. “No Andy it not like that, I saw you rocking out and saw that you were human, not this dull history buff, who’s heads always stuck in his books, I decided I wanted to get to know you better, and I have, I wouldn’t say I’m I’m love with you, but your fun to be around. I really want to get to know you better Andy, that's the honest truth.”
I moved to sit at my desk, swung my chair around and faced Sam again.
“The night we went down Canal st, supposedly to bring me out of my shell, you got rid of Mel at the first opportunity, then when I refused to dance, you went off in a huff, danced and pulled with 2 strangers, knowing I was watching. The following day, you used your sex appeal to get you out of my bad books, that explains why there was no more interactions for weeks afterwards. You’ve admitted you want to settle down, and that’s a noble thing to do. But it doesn’t get around the fact that you’ve used me more than once. Probably for sex. You’ve been busy with finals, you need to get your fix of sex, so you come to me for your fix, you think you're falling for me and trying to have a relationship, correct?” My voice once quiet was increasing in volume the more I spoke.
Sam stood up. “That’s not right Andy, I admit I was angry when you wouldn’t dance with me, that’s why I pulled those 2 guys, to show you what you were missing, it was seeing you so hurt the next day that made me realize what an arse I’d been, as for using you for sex, that’s not true either, the sex followed on from where we were heading.”
“And Mel?”
“I never planned to get rid of her, Molly turning up was a complete coincidence. I decided that 2s company and 3s a crowd, so I managed to get Molly to take Mel with her, that was a big mistake, I didn’t take into account the way Mel thought of Molly. That’s one thing I do regret, and have apologized more than once since.”
“You said the sex followed on from where we were heading. And where are we going?” I tried to calm myself down, breathing deeply.
“I thought.” Sam paused momentarily. “I thought we were heading for a relationship, I thought we were falling in love. That’s why I was.” He paused again before continuing. “I want you to come to New York with me.”
So this is what it’s all about, this is where this conversation is heading, the final destination. The ultimate question. I looked at him.
“I don’t know what love is Sam, but I don’t think for one moment we were ever falling in love, I tried to feel some sort of romantic connection. But to be honest I didn’t. It felt to me like we were 2 friends going out together. And the sex we had was just that, sex.”
Sam looked crestfallen. Tears filled his eyes as he spoke again, his voice filling with emotion.
“And New York?”
“No Sam, New York is out of the question, I’ve sent an application to Manchester uni, applying for a part time lecturer position.”
I felt as though I was being unfairly hard on Sam, but to me, somehow, it felt necessary.
“But you could lecture in New York. There’s loads of colleges and Universities, they must be looking for Lecturers to lecture on British History.”
“No Sam, no. I won’t consider moving to New York. I’ve made Manchester my home. This is where I want to stay. I've already asked Mr Patel, if I can stay here during the Summer, until I find something closer to the university, he’s agreed, he says, I can stay on for the same rate I’m paying now.”
“That’s if you get the job”. Countered Sam.
“True, but I’ve already secured a part time job, at that bakery I used to work at, and I’ve got some ideas milling around my head about a book I could write.”
“So that’s it then. You won’t consider New York, I can’t persuade you. You’ve made your decision. And us?”
I stood and took Sam’s hand. “I’ve decided, I’m trying for the Lecturers post, and us? well, was there an us in the first place?”
Sam smiled weakly, his red rimmed eyes wet with tears, I was also feeling emotional. We hugged briefly. Then he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
That was 2 weeks ago and now it’s the end of term. Mel left to go home a week ago. Sam and I haven’t spoken about our conversation since, letting sleeping dogs lie, it’s been amicable, now Sam’s bags are in the Hall.
“So have you got everything?”
“I think so.”
“Leave me a forwarding address so that if I find anything, I can post it on.”
“Cheers Andy.” Sam took a piece of paper out of a holdall he was carrying, found a pen and wrote down an address and phone number.
I took it, thanking him.
“So that’s it then, you're on your way, stay in contact won’t you?”
“Yes, I’ll stay in touch, I will send you an email address when I’m settled in New York.”
“Cheers, and Sam?”
“Yes Andy?”
“Let’s stay friends, let’s promise that wherever life takes us we will always keep in touch, somehow.”
“I promise. Forever friends.”
“Forever friends.”
We hugged one final time and Sam opened the front door of 21 Laburnum st, one final time.
“I will miss this place, we had some good times didn’t we?”
“The best.” I replied without much conviction. “Now go, you will miss your train.”
We hugged one final time and Sam set off walking up the street, his suitcases being dragged behind him. I walked back into the house, closing the door behind me. Mel and Sam are gone. I’m on my own. My life is in front of me with an interview next week for a job as part time lecturer.
I wandered into the front room, as I sat, I realized that it wasn’t Sam going through the motions, it was me. I was the one that wasn’t invested in a possible relationship, maybe I never will be. But I was in the wrong, not Sam. And now he is gone and I’m unable to apologize and unsure if I would see or hear from him again. Then an idea struck me, how I could in some little way make things right, if not for us, then for me. I picked up my laptop, opened it and started to type.
Jack’s War.
The story of a young man called Jack Smith with Sandy Blond hair and blue eyes. This is the story about his part in the tragedy of the Great War.
Epilogue.
All that was 24 years ago now it’s October 2023. We 3 send each other cards and such at Christmas and birthdays. Mel got a job as a Physics teacher in London. Married a woman called Bianca and they adopted a little girl.
Sam and I keep in touch. We facetime, once a month. We did that today. That's why I’m writing this down, it always brings back memories. Sam soon settled down in New York as it was his type of City. He met another Brit from Newcastle called Philip who worked in a bar. They fell in love, married and now both have dual Passports and a dog named Mo.
And me. Well I received my doctorate in a ceremony in October 1999, accompanied by Mel, (Sam by this time was in New York) my now retired parents and my sisters and their family’s. Jack's War was eventually published and has been in print for 21 years. I got the lecturing job, and ironically enough Prof Brown's Office became mine, that’s why there’s an old Brown armchair in there as homage to my former mentor. As for my love life, well I never met anyone after Sam, I guess I’m not that sort of person, I’ve been alone ever since Sam left all those years ago. And it’s never really worried me that much, I’ve been too invested in my career, my writing and my research. Now it’s Sunday evening and it’s time for my weekly drink in Bar Velvet. I put on my coat, get my keys and walk out the front door, locking it behind me, humming a tune called Solitaire by Andy Williams.
The end.
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