‘Absolutely,’ said Ffion, shuffling up closer to Arabella.
‘So, how are we, ladies? All well?’
‘Busy studying,’ said Jade.
‘Ah, yes. How did collections come around so fast?’
Oxford University practically had a language of its own, one that Clara understood.
‘Yup, first exam on Monday. Absolutely dreading it,’ said Arabella, grimacing.
‘Oh dear. You’ll do well though. This isn’t your first rodeo.’
‘I know, but it never gets any easier. In fact, it gets harder each year,’ complained Jade.
‘No, it doesn’t get easier, but you’re all amazing. Don’t forget that. I believe in you and you know where I am if you want to vent, or need any support.’
‘You’re brilliant, Clara,’ said Jade. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s what I’m here for.’
As Clara tucked into her roast chicken and chips, she felt a sense of pride. She had always helped people with their worries or problems, and sometimes thought that if she hadn’t joined the church, she would have liked to have been an agony aunt. Even as a teenager readingMy GuyandJackie, the problem pages were always the first thing she read, and Clara had often thought about how she would advise people if it were her. Helping and nurturing people were some of the reasons she chose this path in life.
Another strength of Clara’s was diplomacy so, as the young ladies turned to chat about a student that Arabella was quite smitten with, she averted her attention and waved over to Charlie, one of the lodge porters who had finished lunch. Clara never necessarily admitted that she had her favourites, but since she and Charlie had started around the same time as each other, they had forged an unbreakable friendship. His grandad was a porter before him and she was old enough to remember when Charlie’s dad was a porter working alongside him too. Despite what some might think, their relationship was purely platonic and they were two people who had the same sense of humour and had always hit it off.
‘Hello, you. Did you have a good morning?’ he said.
‘Fantastic. Shame you couldn’t have come out for the beating of the bounds with us.’
‘I know. Next year I’ll have to take the morning off. It’s been a busy one. We’ve got a new scout who started.’
Clara remembered the first time she heard that a scout wanted to empty her bins. She imagined a young lad in a green uniform with a neckerchief and woggle. Instead, she found a cleaner stood there with a bin bag who was waiting to vacuum her student room. It was all part of the language she was soon familiarised with at Oxford.
‘Ah, right. I’ll have to look out for them,’ said Clara, who considered the team around St Peter’s to be one big happy family. She would make it a point to introduce herself whenever she had the chance.
When Charlie bid goodbye, one of the Oxford dons entered the hall, and nodded at Clara. As with most of her colleagues, she enjoyed a good working relationship with him. Everyone knew that Clara was a hard worker and nobody ever had any reason to complain about her. In fact, she was perhaps one of the most well-loved employees at St Peter’s, where everyone adored her.
Needing to return to the office to finish off some emails, Clara polished off her lunch and wished the students well before making her exit.
‘Nice seeing the three of you. Don’t forget to come and see me, or drop me an email if you need anything.’
‘We will. Thanks, Clara,’ said Ffion.
‘You’re so welcome. Whatever you need, just shout. I can’t help you with the answers to your exams though, obviously.’ Clara laughed. ‘Seriously though, good luck for Monday. You’ll all smash it.’
Clara left Hannington Hall and made her way back to the chapel, walking past students revising on the lawns and others carrying stacks of books. She could sense the exam nerves around her. She empathised as she remembered how anxious she had been when she desperately aimed for a first in her BA Hons in Theology.
There was always tension around examination time, but this year Clara was starting to become jittery herself. It might be a critical time for the undergraduates, but it was also an important one for Clara. After all, her first date with Tom was looming and the thought of it made her a bag of nerves. She even wondered if sitting a law exam might be less nerve-wracking.
ChapterThree
On Monday morning, as the students read over the questions on their exam papers, Clara sat at home with questions of her own. Had Tom Hartley really asked her out or had it been a figment of her imagination? What if she turned up and he wasn’t there? She needed to call her best friend, Eleanora, to calm her nerves.
‘What if I dreamed it, Nora?’
‘Don’t be silly. You definitely told me he’d asked you out after Evensong. Now stop doubting yourself,’ said Eleanora sternly.
Having been best friends with Clara since their schooldays, she knew only too well how she was the champion of second-guessing herself. Eleanora could almost give her a trophy for it.
