Part 4 (2/2)

'You mean what am I reading?'

'If you like.'

'English Literature.'

52.'Christ, another one! Well, at least you're not completely wasting three years of your life.'

'I'm sorry, I . . .'

'Whatever happened to all the mathematicians, that's what I want to know. All the bio-chemists? All the mechanical engineers? No wonder the economy's going to the dogs; everyone knows what a metaphor is, no one can build a power station.'

I laugh, then check to see if he's joking, but he isn't. 'I have science A-levels!' I say, defensively.

'Really? What in?'

'Physics and Chemistry.'

'Well there you go then! A Renaissance Man! What's Newton's Third Law of Motion?'

Oh, my friend, you're going to have to try a lot harder than that . . .

'Reaction is equal and opposite to action,' I say.

Patrick's reaction is pretty equal and opposite too; a brief, begrudging raising of the eyebrows, before he goes back to his notepad.

'School?'

'Pardon?'

'I said ”school”? Big building, made of bricks, teachers in it . . .'

'I understood the question, I just wondered why you wanted to know?'

'Alright then, Trotsky, you've made your point. You've got a pen? Good. Here's your paper, and I'll be with you in a minute.' I take a seat near the back of the room as two more people arrive behind me. 'Ah, the cavalry!' says Patrick.

The first potential team-mate, a Chinese girl, causes a bit of a stir, because she seems to have a panda bear clinging to her back. Closer scrutiny reveals this not to be a real-life panda, but an ingeniously designed rucksack! It shows a quirky sense of humour I suppose, but doesn't bode well for her chances on 53.a serious, advanced general knowledge qui/. Anyway, from her conversation with Patrick I hear that she's called Lucy Chang, that she's a second year, reading Medicine, and so may possibly have an edge on me with some of those science questions. Her English seems pretty fluent, though she speaks incredibly quietly, with a slight American accent. What do the rules say about foreign nationals?

The next contestant is a big, loud-voiced Mancunian, dressed in olive-green army surplus, big heavy boots and with a little blue RAF knapsack at his hip with, somewhat inconsistently, a CND sign magic-markered onto it. Patrick interviews him with a kind of begrudging civility, NCO to corporal, and it transpires that he's a third-year Politics student from Rochdale called Colin Pagett. He glances round the room, nods, and then we wait in silence and fiddle with our pens, all sitting as far away from each other as the laws of geometry will allow, waiting ten, fifteen minutes, until it's absolutely clear that no one else is going to turn up. Where is she? She said she'd be here. What if something's happened to her?

Finally Patrick the Astronaut sighs, stands up behind his desk and says, 'Right, well let's begin shall we? My name's Patrick Watts from Ashton-Under-Lyme, reading Economics, and I'm the captain of this year's University Challenge team' . . . hang on, who says? . . . 'Regular viewers of the show may recognise me from last year's tournament.'

That's it, that's where I know him from. I remember watching the episode extra carefully because I'd been filling out my UCCA form, and I'd wanted to know what the standard was like. I remember thinking then that they were a pretty poor team, and this Patrick obviously still carries the emotional scars with him, because he looks at the floor, shame-faced, at the mention of it. 'Obviously, it wasn't a flawless performance' - they were knocked out in the first round if I remember rightly, against soft opponents too - 'but we're very hopeful 54.about our chances this year, especially with so much . . . promising . . . raw material.'

The three of us look around the room, at each other, and at the rows of empty desks.

'Right! Well, without further ado, let's get cracking on the test. It's in written form, forty questions, and covers a diverse range of subjects, similar to those we'll be facing on the programme. Last year we were particularly weak in the science area' - he glances at me - 'and I want to make sure we're not too arts-orientated this time . . .'

'And it's a four-person team, yeah?' the Mancunian pipes up.

'That is correct.'

'Well if that's the case, then surely ... we are the team.'

'Well, yes, but we need to make sure we're up to an appropriate standard.'

But Colin's not letting go. 'Why?'

'Well, because if we're not . . . we'll lose again.'

'And?'

'Well, if we lose again ... if we lose again . . .' and Patrick's mouth is working wordlessly now, opening and closing like a dying mackerel. It's the same face he had on national television last year, trying and failing to answer a perfectly simple question on the East African lakes: the same haunted look, with every single member of the audience knowing the answer, willing it to him; Lake Tanganyika, Tanganyika, you idiot.

Then he's distracted by a noise at the door - a cl.u.s.ter of grinning female faces briefly pressed against the gla.s.s, a m.u.f.fled burst of laughter, a scuffle, and she's shoved into the room by unseen hands, and just stands there, giggling, trying to regain her composure, looking round the room at the four of us.

I swear, for a moment I think everyone's going to stand up.

'Whoops! Sorry, everyone!'

55.She's slurring a bit, and seems a little unsteady on her feet. She's not thinking of taking an exam p.i.s.sed, is she?

'I'm sorry, am I too late?'

Patrick runs his hands over his astronaut's hair, licks his lips, and says, 'Not at all. Glad to have you on board . . . urn . . . ?'

'Alice. Alice Harbinson.'

Alice. Alice. Of course, she's an Alice. What else could she be?

'Okay, Alice. Please - take a seat. . .' And she looks around, smiles at me, and comes over and sits at the desk directly behind mine.

The first few questions are pretty easy; basic geometry and some stuff about the Plantagenets, just there to soften us up really, but it's hard to concentrate because Alice is making this snuffling noise over my shoulder. I turn and glance at her, and sure enough she's hunched forwards over her exam paper red-faced, shaking with suppressed laughter. I go back to the test paper.

Question 4. What was ancient Istanbul known as, before it was called Constantinople?

Easy. Byzantium.

Question 5. Helium, neon, argon and xenon make up four of the so-called 'n.o.ble gases'. What are the other two?

No idea. Krypton and hydrogen maybe? Krypton and hydrogen.

Question 6. What is the precise composition of the aroma emanating from Alice Harbinson, and why is it so delightful?

Something expensive, flowery but light. Is it perhaps Chanel No 5? Mixed with a tiny hint of Pears soap, and Silk Cut, and lager . . .

That's enough now. Concentrate.

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