This chapter ended up super long, so I split it in two. Enjoy! :)

Chapter 12

In which the Oxford vs. Cambridge boat race takes place.

The sun had yet to rise when Mary's alarm went off on Saturday morning. She blearily reached over to switch it off, trying to remember why she'd set an alarm for six in the morning on the weekend, before she remembered.

It was race day.

Within a couple of seconds she was wide awake, dashing out of bed and to the bathrooms to shower and then start on her two-mile warm-up run. The air was cool and crisp as the ran, the first few buds of spring starting to push through the frosty ground with only the smallest splashes of colour peaking through in the darkness.

By the time she made it back to the college, showered again and had put on her kit, it was time for the rower's breakfast, as it was known: a plate piled high with at least two of everything.

"Good morning," she greeted Thomas and Tom as she slid onto a bench opposite them, digging into her breakfast, her usual delicacy compromised with how hungry she was.

"You're cheerful this morning," Thomas said, eyeing Mary's plate of sausages, bacon, hash browns, beans, black pudding and fried bread, poking miserably at his own cornflakes. "I would have thought you'd be a bit more nervous."

"Me? Nervous?" Mary laughed loudly. "What on earth for? We're going to win; nothing to worry about there."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Don't get too cocky, though."

Mary huffed as Tom piped up, "I'm going to meet Sybil at the station, if either of you would like to come?"

"We'll meet you down by the river," Mary said through a mouthful of bacon. "Don't want to intrude. Besides, I still don't know why she wanted to come."

"Well, you and Edith are racing together; she wanted to support you both."

"That's absolutely fine, I suppose. As long as she supports us." It was hard to tell quite how much Mary was joking.

"Because God forbid she be impartial," Tom said, rolling his eyes. "I'll see you both later, then. And Mary, if I don't see you – good luck. I'll be cheering for Oxford, even if Sybil won't."

Mary and Thomas waved goodbye to Tom.

"You're really not nervous, then?" Thomas asked.

Mary admitted, "A little bit. But it's more excitement and anticipation. I know how good the team is, and I know we can win. Besides, I've been 'leaking' false information to Edith for months now; she thinks our fastest speed is about eighty percent of our average. As long as we stay focused? We can easily beat them."

"Good," Thomas said decisively. "Now, just in case you need an edge, I've been doing some research on the Cambridge team – purely for trash-talk purposes, of course."

"You never fail to deliver," Mary grinned, taking the notes that Thomas brought out of his bag. "Ooh, Ethel got pregnant in sixth form?! You've outdone yourself; some of this is borderline blackmail material. Oh, but braces and acne stories? This is perfect."

"Think of it as my contribution to the sporting life of the university," Thomas said dryly. "Right, we'd better be going, or we'll miss the first race."


"Good morning!" Mary greeted Matthew and Jimmy as they met them by the river bank, pushing through the crowds.

"Morning," they replied.

"Ready to go and do us proud?" Matthew asked, shivering from the morning chill.

Mary smiled. "I was born ready."

"Like we ever doubted it!"

"Mary?"

Mary turned at the call of her name to see Sybil running towards her, a bemused Tom hanging back.

"Mary, there you are! Oh, I'm so glad to see you!"

"You saw me just a few weeks ago," Mary chided, but hugged Sybil nonetheless. "Good journey?"

"Not bad. Have you seen Edith yet?"

"Not yet." Mary didn't even try to sound disappointed. "The Cambridge teams arrived an hour ago but they've been getting ready; she should be here soon, it's the men's races first." She cleared her throat awkwardly, stepping back slightly. "Sybil, have you met Matthew? Matthew, this is my youngest sister, Sybil."

"It's a pleasure," Matthew said warmly, holding a hand out to shake. "I've heard so much about you."

"I wish I could say the same," Sybil said knowingly, eyeing Mary. "But it's wonderful to meet you. And –" She turned to Jimmy. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met?"

"Jimmy. I'm, er, Matthew's flatmate."

"Well, it's simply splendid to meet you both," Sybil gushed, taking Tom's hand once introductions were finished with.

"Do you reckon that's - " Jimmy said, gesturing to behind Sybil and Tom. They all turned to look, a large group of students in matching kits coming towards them.

"Dear Lord, here she comes," Mary intoned as she spotted Edith in the middle of the pack, gossiping with a blonde girl next to her.

Sybil groaned, clearly irritated. "Really, Mary, I wish you wouldn't be like that."

"Like what?" Mary feigned ignorance.

But Sybil never got to reply as Edith and her friend reached them.

"Hello, Sybil darling!" she said, pulling her younger sister into a hug before saying coldly, "Good day, Mary."

"Hello, Edith," Mary replied, just as stiffly.

Pretending to shudder dramatically, Jimmy interrupted. "Brr, is it just me or did it just get chilly in here?!"

Edith laughed embarrassingly loudly while Mary looked infuriated, glaring at Jimmy. "That really is very amusing! You see, Mary? You get the joke?"

"Of course I get the joke," Mary said, dangerously quietly.

Matthew quickly butted in, eager to relieve some of the tension. "How about we, er, do introductions? I'm Matthew, Mary's – er – friend, and this is my flatmate Jimmy. I presume you know Thomas, and Tom, and you must be Edith?"

"Yes," Edith said, looking mildly phased that he seemed to know her name. "I dare say Mary has spoken about me, then?"

"Oh!" Matthew tried (and failed) to look blasé. "Oh, er, maybe once or twice. Who is, er, sorry, I don't think I - " He quickly indicated towards Edith's friend in an attempt to shift the focus of attention.

"Laura," the girl smiled. "I'm on the team with Edith."

"Oh, yes," Mary said smugly, and Thomas noticed her slipping the piece of paper he'd given her back into her pocket. "You know, I find it amazing that they still let you on any rowing team."

"Why's that?" Laura asked nervously, going white.

"I heard that you completely ruined your college team's chances last year when you broke up with your girlfriend – the captain – ten minutes before the race. Rather public and rather messy, I seem to remember."

"How do you - " Laura breathed, but stopped when Edith put a hand on her arm.

"It's okay," Edith said, clearly full of her own gossip. "Even Mary has her secrets. Tell me, Mary, do your new friends know about Kamal?"

"Kamal?" Matthew asked, clearly torn between curiosity and jealousy.

"It's nothing," Mary tried to say, but Edith beat her to it.

"Oh, so you don't know?" Edith grinned. "It was a few years ago now – Mary was sixteen."

"Edith!" Mary snapped, her tone sharp and warning.

"He was a Turkish exchange student, a couple of years older – although that never bothered Mary - "

"Edith!" This time, there was something in Mary's voice that made Edith stop talking at once. There was a long silence as Mary looked between Edith and her expectant friends. When she spoke again, her voice was worryingly low, as if at any moment she might snap and turn into some sort of monstrous being. "Edith, if anyone is going to tell the story, it's going to be me. Unless you want me telling all of these lovely people about Fake Patrick?"

Seven voices chorused back, "We don't talk about Fake Patrick."

"Good," Mary said, glad that it was settled before facing up to the reality of the situation. "Well… as Edith said, I was sixteen, and Kamal was an eighteen-year-old exchange student from Turkey. He was staying with my friend Evelyn - "

"Friend!" Edith guffawed.

"We'd been on the odd date, and – you know – made out a bit. But we weren't together or anything; it was just casual." She determinedly avoided making eye contact with Matthew, who seemed to balloon in jealousy at the thought of sixteen-year-old Mary dating. "Anyway, so I met Kamal, and we hit it off, and we… well… we sort of ended up going, um, all the way."

"What?!" Matthew exclaimed, scandalised, as Jimmy called out, "Go Mary!". It was clear from the look on Sybil's face that she'd only been told parts of this story before, and suddenly it was all beginning to make far too much sense.

"So we were, you know, at it," Mary said, pushing through her embarrassment, "and right at the, um, the moment when he finished, he just… collapsed."

If Matthew had been shocked before, it was nothing compared to now; his hands flew to his mouth as realisation dawned. Edith was grinning smugly and Thomas was attempting to hide how much he was laughing, while Jimmy didn't even bother. Even Tom was chuckling, if looking worried as to where the story was going to end.

"It turned out," Mary soldiered on, "that he had an undiagnosed heart condition and he had suffered a heart attack. I called an ambulance, he went to hospital and was treated, and returned to Turkey as soon as he was well enough. But, needless to say, we did not stay in touch."

"Well, would you look at that," Edith said once everyone had stopped laughing at Mary's expense. "Mary Grantham; so terrible in bed that she nearly killed a man."

"Or so brilliant in bed," Thomas chipped in, ignoring the odd looks that Jimmy and Matthew gave him.

Mary was saved from any further embarrassment by an announcement coming over the speakers that had been set up all along the bustling river bank. "First up! Men's eights!"

They all hurried to the barrier ready to watch the race, cheering loudly as soon as the starting klaxon went off. Edith and Laura cheered "Cambridge! Cambridge!" as loud as they could but were drowned out by the others (bar Sybil) who were yelling "OXFORD!" across the river.

For the first few hundred metres, the Oxford team were easily further ahead; they'd had a good start, putting them well ahead of the Cambridge team. After a while, though, they started to lose their steam; the effort they'd put in at the start couldn't be help up through the whole race, and inch by inch they were overtaken, occasionally regaining some ground before once again dropping behind. By the time they reached the finish line, all of the spectators screaming themselves hoarse, the Cambridge team were well ahead, and despite knowing the river better, the Oxford team had lost.

"Well, well, well," Edith said smugly as Tom leant over the railings, his head in his hands. "Looks like Cambridge was victorious!"

"In this race." Mary was seemingly unperturbed by her university's loss. "We both know that the real race has yet to come, and next time you may not be so lucky."

"We'll see about that. Now, if you'll excuse us; we have to go and meet our team." She grabbed Laura's elbow and marched her off to where the Cambridge women's team was preparing.

Mary sighed despairingly. "Well, I should also be off. See you all later!"

"Good luck!" They all called, waving as she went to find the Oxford team.

"Wait; Mary!"

She spun around to see Matthew running towards her. "What, what is it?"

He hesitated for a moment, before leaning forwards and quickly kissing her cheek. "Just… just do us proud, okay?"

She smiled a rare, genuine smile. "I will."


"And now, the Women's Eights! Oxford versus Cambridge! On your marks… get set…"

The crowd roared as the klaxon went off, the two boats swiftly cutting through the water. They were neck and neck; there was virtually no difference between them as they rowed through the first stretch.

Mary was more focused than she'd ever been, and she could feel that the concentration was shared through the team, all in exact synchronisation as the cox called out from the end of the boat. They were going faster than they'd ever gone before, she was sure of it; the only question was whether or not they could keep it up.

They navigated the first bend in the river with an ease and grace that the Cambridge team didn't have as they jerkily turned, and at one point it almost looked like they were going to hit the bank. While they recovered it had cost them precious seconds, and the Oxford team were making the most of the advantage, powering forwards and leaving the Cambridge team behind. The Cambridge team did everything they could to catch up, but wasn't enough; every time they even got close to the Oxford team, they would push on ahead, closer and closer to the finish line.

In the last five hundred metres, it was like nothing Mary had ever seen or felt before. The sheer power that the team was exerting far outstripped anything they'd ever done in training, and they rowed as if their lives depended on it as the finish line got closer and closer and the Cambridge boat was left further and further behind before –

They'd won.

The feeling of euphoria that washed over Mary was like an addictive drug, forcing a smile on her face and her heart to beat out of her chest and her head to feel sky high. Everything was happening at once; the joyful hugs from her teammates, the deafening cheers from the crowd, their coach telling them that they'd been the fastest team in decades. It didn't even matter that she'd beaten Edith, and she felt none of the usual boastful pride when she saw the Cambridge team grudgingly make their way out of the water. The only thing she was capable of feeling was the sheer exhilaration of unbridled joy.

She had thought that nothing could top this; that this moment, right now, must be the happiest that she had ever been, and, indeed, the happiest that she ever could be, but somehow – without any explanation – she felt her elation increase tenfold when she ran onto the river bank, letting go of the boat that they'd dragged out, and threw her arms around a beaming Matthew.