by James Simpson
Allison was over the moon. She had been accepted into Camford as a graduate research student to read for a PhD. After a week she realised that her College was even more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. She wondered why she hadn't tried for a place as an undergrad, but realised she would have missed the liberating experience of her first rate Victorian red-brick. She had also experienced, albeit at a distance, life in a northern mill city, a far cry from her childhood in leafy Sussex. That alone might be useful in a future political career.
Still, her first class degree and a masters with distinction, together with a glowing recommendation from her professor to an old alumnus, had assured her of a research assistant fellowship at All Saints.
She had met her supervisor - Professor Alex Prendergast - yesterday; he had invited her for afternoon tea and his wife had produced a fine traditional English high tea. He was only in his early forties, strikingly handsome, with a brilliant incisive mind and was occasionally seen as a pundit on the BBC. He was smartly dressed in fashionable clothes, unlike most of his colleagues who either wore very formal but very well worn bespoke suits, or looked crumpled and almost unkempt in a tweedy way. Ally surmised that his ultra-elegant wife probably had a considerable influence on his appearance.
His wife Celia was at least ten years younger; she had been the first student he had supervised as a fellow. She oozed beauty, elegance and assurance in the manner that only those coming from old money could, but she had been very welcoming and friendly and only very slightly condescending. She had, however, made it quite clear to Ally that she was the only research student in Alex's life and any competition would be ruthlessly dealt with.
Allison was beginning to make friends and was enjoying the beauties of an Indian Summer afternoon in early October at the Double Blue, sitting in the beer garden with a couple of new girlfriends watching the oarsmen begin their early season training.
At her turn to buy the round, she was carrying the tray back when she was greeted with "Hi, Allison, enjoying Camford life?"
She turned round to see Professor Prendergast drinking with a rather handsome chum. She smiled and returned the greeting, but was moved along by three impatient men carrying the rugby team's beers to their table. She heard the ribald but highly complimentary comments about her legs and boobs and, mimicking the Welsh lilt of the most handsome, replied with, "In your dreams, boyo!"
On her return to her table, she commented that it was just like a scrum trying to get a beer.
Her friend Jane said, "Do you really know Prof Prendergast? He's regarded as one of the finest minds and a near certainty to become a College Master in a few years."
"Yes, he's my supervisor," she replied.
"Good grief, you lucky cow, you can't go wrong, and he's so handsome as well."
"Yes, but his wife is absolutely beautiful and certainly gave me the 'hands off he's mine' vibes at tea yesterday."
"Aaah, poor Ally, you'll just have to make do with getting your lovely botty smacked for being a naughty girl then!" her friends giggled.
Just then the very handsome young Welsh guy from the rugby crowd came up and asked if he could take a seat.
"Of course," Ally replied, smiling and moving up to make room.
"I'm sorry I was so vulgar and made such a course comment, can I take you out tonight to make up for it?"
"Why not," Ally replied "Eight o'clock at All Saints then. What's your name?"
"John, but JJ to my friends. It's a date then," he replied with nervous surprise.
"See you later JJ, I'm Allison - Ally to my friends. But you'd better get back to your mates, and tell them the kindergarten shouldn't drink too much beer, it's bad for them." She smiled and waved, acknowledging the rowdy cheers and comments from his crowd.
She looked at her watch, and said, "God I must dash, I've got an appointment at four." Then, with a last quick gulp of her beer, she left her friends being surrounded by the rugby boys.
As she walked out she passed her professor's table. He smiled and said, "I see you've made an impression already, best of luck, see you tomorrow at two-thirty then."
As she left his friend said, "You lucky dog, Alex, you've only pulled one of the most drop-dead gorgeous girls I've ever seen."
"Careful what you say, David, Celia has already threatened me with castration with a rusty steak knife if I'm tempted. Strictly academic interest only."
"God, look at those legs, they go on for miles, and what an arse - must be a perfect ten!" David crudely commented as she sashayed away, before returning to his drink while daydreaming of spanking her gorgeous bum.
Allison made her appointment at her bank, successfully concluded her business and returned to her rooms and started to prepare for her first meeting with Alex Prendergast to organise her research. She would be researching whether low wage economies were inherently less effective than more advanced ones with higher wages. Later, she showered and dressed ready to meet her date.
The evening went surprisingly well; John Janway Owen was an accomplished rugby player and a junior international to boot. Although devoted to rugby, he was studying law not land economy like many of his fellow sportsmen, and had a brain to match his ball handling skills. He was charming company and they walked along the banks, taking in a couple of student hostelries. He introduced Allison to some rowing friends they met who persuaded Allison to go along to the ladies rowing introduction and give it a try. She agreed as she realised that during the time she'd spend studying for her masters she had let her fitness level slip, having given up netball and tennis that year.
The next day with Alex Prendergast passed without a hitch and privately he was extremely enthusiastic about Ally's project, as no matter what the result, the outcome could be 'sold' to either Unions or Employers, or to either the Labour or Tory parties. He gave her a few hints about possible research reading and also suggested that a visit to his friend David Salmon's specialist and antiquarian bookshop might be very useful. The latter collected large quantities of seemingly useless publications on his travels in his searches to get the occasional gem, and sometimes these could give real background. He added that rather fortuitously David had just been retained by a distant relative of Gladstone to see if any of the papers he had in his attic were of any value. Allison might be able to help him catalogue them and could possibly find something of value to her studies before it was sold on, as the papers would cover an extremely important period in British economic history.
Next morning, Celia Prendergast had been shopping and popped in to see David Salmon and have a coffee with him. On the table and in a number of boxes were piles of assorted papers.
"What are all these then, David, I've never seem you so untidy?" Celia asked.
"They are papers that a distant relative of Gladstone is touting around. I'm on a good commission if I can sort them and find anything interesting to sell on. Your husband's new girl Allison is coming round this afternoon to help me catalogue them."
"Will you be able to keep your hands off her?"
"With great difficulty, she is almost as beautiful as you," he replied, smiling.
For the next week Allie spent several hours a day sorting and cataloguing the assorted papers. There was a load of dross, but many gems, her favourite being an assessment by the Bank of England on the economic consequences of the abolition of Slavery marked 'Top Secret' and with a very restricted circulation list. After a week's hard work, she had subdivided the papers into very interesting, interesting, moderate, and dross. She had started to catalogue the better stuff.
David was delighted with her work and offered her a generous cut of his commission to make up for the pittance he could afford to pay her at the moment. He was pretty certain that there was enough to put up for auction, hoping some Ivy League US university libraries might bid a ludicrously high sum. That Saturday he invited Alex and Celia Prendergast around to see the papers.
Celia was feeling very jealous of Allison and was scheming about how to get her taken down a peg or two. Seeing the papers, she had an idea. Later that night, while Alex had popped out to buy another bottle of wine, she asked David his opinion of the papers. He replied that some were extremely interesting and possibly quite valuable, especially the Bank of England report.
Later that night while David slept, Celia was hatching a plot based on her own school experiences. When at boarding school she and a couple of friends had gone shopping and, like many young girls before them, stolen a lipstick from Woolworths. Unfortunately for them, they were caught. The headmistress had an arrangement with most of the town's shops that if any of her girls misbehaved in any way she would cane them rather than having the police involved.
The manager promptly informed the school and, sure enough, that evening three very frightened schoolgirls got the standard penalty for shoplifting: twelve of the cane on the bare bottom in front of the store owner or manager. Celia had never forgotten that experience; she found thinking about it a turn on, and sometimes masturbated while reliving the situation in her imagination.
Celia popped in for coffee with David next morning.
"Hi Dave, managed to spank your new assistant's gorgeous little tush yet?"
"Of course not!" he blushed. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Only the way you can't keep your eyes off it."
"Oh God! Is it that obvious?"
"Afraid so. But I have designs on that arse as well. Alex is taking a little more interest in her than he should. Now listen carefully and we might just be lucky and both get our way."
When Allison called for her next tutorial, Celia met her at the door. As usual, she took Ally's jacket and bag and hung them up. She phoned David, telling him now would be a very good time to pop around for a chat. He arrived shortly, a little out of breath having pedalled over as quickly as possible.
Celia opened the door, and they politely kissed cheeks.
"Now just keep a straight face and prepare to be shocked, indignant and hurt. Remember if you cock this up, we'll both be in the mire."
A few minutes later, Alex and Allison entered the sitting room, smiling after the satisfaction of an inspirational and intellectually challenging discussion. They were slightly surprised to see David with Celia.
"I was just passing and I saw Celia in the garden so I popped in, hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. Always glad to see you, old chap," Alex replied.
Celia arrived with tea and cakes and they gossiped bitchily about university and college affairs for half an hour.
David then rose saying, "I'd better get back; Amelia will get into a right tizzy if I'm away from the shop too long. I hope she's found that Jenkinson book I've mislaid, I could have made twenty-five quid yesterday, hopefully the chap will ring back."
"You really are hopeless Dave, do you ever remember where you put things?" Alex joked.
They all walked to the cloakroom. Celia lifted Allison's bag off the hook, but it got caught up and she carelessly dropped the contents on the floor.
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.