Wednesday 5 October
Got an email this morning from the Domestic Supervisor.
From: Debbie Scarfe
To: Samuel Trent
Subject: Room move
Dear Mr Trent,
We will be moving you to a different room on Saturday afternoon at 2pm.
We can provide you with some packing boxes to assist in this move. Please advise us how many you require. They are 60x50x40cm in size.
Regards,
Debbie Scarfe
Domestic Supervisor
Sent an email straight back saying this:
Why am I being asked to move and for how long? Also, to which room?
Got a reply from her shortly afterwards:
Your father has asked for you to be moved to a different part of the College for the rest of the academic year. Your new room number is yet to be arranged, and unfortunately it is likely that we will only be able to confirm it on the day.
Emailed her back:
I would have appreciated it if he had discussed this with me first. I will get in touch with him to try and find out what all this is about. But I would rather not move if it can be avoided as I feel such a move could have a disruptive effect on my academic performance, my social life and my mental health.
Then sent an email to Dad:
From: Samuel Trent
To: Jack Trent
Subject: My room in College
Dad,
I've just been told by the Domestic Supervisor that you've asked for me to be moved to a different room in College. What is all that about? I'm fine where I am and would rather not have this kind of disruption to my academic and social life.
Cheers,
Samuel
Got an email back a bit later from him.
Hi Samuel,
It's to make things easier for you (and me). As I said, I need you to avoid contact with Horace Tripalong's daughter, and I am aware that that is difficult when the two of you are next door to each other in College.
Hope you don't mind.
Dad
Wrote out this email to send back to him.
Sorry Dad, but I do mind.
Do you remember telling me about the time you and auntie Lucy first met uncle Philip and he invited you both down to Craggy Tops with him for the hols? Do you remember telling me what your childhood had been like before that point? How you had never had any friends, how nobody except auntie Lucy and Kiki took you seriously, how you were achingly lonely and constantly bullied and left out of things at school? How you were the only boy in your year who was never made a prefect? How even your uncle Geoffrey wanted you out of his way? Do you remember telling me how uncle Philip was the first real friend you ever had, the first person who took you seriously, treated you like a friend, listened to you, shared your interests, included you in his adventures, stuck up for you, gave you space to take the lead, and even persuaded his mother to take you in? Do you remember telling me that friendships like the one you struck up with uncle Philip and auntie Dinah are like gold dust?
How would you have felt if, the day you arrived at Craggy Tops, your uncle Geoffrey had driven straight down, bundled you and auntie Lucy in the car, taken you back home with him, and told you never to talk to uncle Philip and auntie Dinah again?
Because that's what it feels like you're doing to me.
Dad, friendships like that are like gold dust to me as well. Remember I had no friends until I was fourteen either. I've had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously by anyone too. Sure, there's been the electronics club at school, but even then I always felt I was being treated like a sideshow or taken advantage of. Auntie Lucy has given me a lot of help and support over the years with understanding and relating to people, but it's never really flowed and come naturally to me. Until this week.
I've made three marvellous friends here in Cambridge. My next door neighbours, Oliver Bennett, Mei Ling Tan and Fiona Tipperlong are supportive and friendly. They listen to me. They make space in their conversation for me. They encourage me to join in and speak up. They take me seriously when I do. And who has been taking the lead in welcoming me and including me in the group in this way? Yes, Dad, it's Fiona. She seems to understand me better than anyone else except auntie Lucy.
Dad, I don't know what happened between you and Fiona's dad in the Hebrides. I wasn't there and neither was she. I don't know what's been going on between the two of you since. But all I know is that I don't want to be dragged into your battles and neither does she. We both think that the two of you need to bury the hatchet, settle your differences and make up with each other. Because as it stands, the only people who are benefitting from this whole sorry mess are your respective solicitors.
Regards,
Samuel
PS: Her name is Tipperlong, and I'll thank you to remember it.
Decided to send a copy to auntie Lucy. Something tells me she'll be able to give me some useful advice on the matter.
She was.
From: Lucy-Ann Mannering-Trent
To: Samuel Trent
Subject: Re: My room in College
Hi Romeo,
Looks like you've found yourself a Juliet there! I mean that in more ways than one. Your father and Horace Tipperlong really are the Montague and Capulet of ornithology. Just make sure that you give your story a happier ending than Shakespeare did.
You and Fiona are spot on in your assessment of the situation. The two of them need to bury the hatchet, make amends and move on, and your mother, Philip and I have been trying to persuade your father to do so for years now, as too have uncle Bill and aunt Allie. But it's easier said than done. Horace Tipperlong has a number of mental health issues—autism, OCD, PTSD and clinical depression to name but a few, and as well as this pitched battle with your father he's been through a messy divorce. Your father can also be pretty obsessive about things at times as well. When he's convinced he's right about something it's almost impossible to get him to back down. He's also a massive opportunist and keeps pipping Tipperlong to the post for grants, graduate students, research and publicity opportunities, and I think that's a source of most of the friction between them. It's a shame really because Horace has a whole lot of skills and experience, particularly in the area of computational biology, that would help your father's research no end, but the two of them are just too stubborn to treat each other as collaborators rather than rivals.
Don't let your father put you off making friends with Fiona. She sounds like she has her head screwed on the right way and she's well placed to give you a lot of help. It's best to keep a low profile with it and not rub it in his face, but if he does turn up the heat too much then you can always come and stay with us during the hols until he calms down. Same goes for her, if she needs a break from her own father.
I'll have a word with him and try and speak some sense into him.
All the best,
Lucy-Ann
Methinks it's a bit cheeky of her to describe me and Fiona as Romeo and Juliet. We're not star-crossed lovers (not at this stage at any rate), but having said that, it sounds like describing Dad and Horace as the Montague and Capulet of ornithology is not too far off the mark.
Thursday 6 October
First day of lectures today. Maths at nine followed by Physics at ten. Then a Chemistry practical class the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon.
Got a response from Dad to my email of yesterday. Saying this:
From: Jack Trent
To: Samuel Trent
Subject: Re: My room in College
Hi Samuel,
I've discussed this matter at length with your mother, your aunt Lucy-Ann, your aunt Dinah, your uncle Philip, your great uncle Bill, your great aunt Allie, and my solicitor. This matter is not like our arrival at Craggy Tops thirty-two years ago because my uncle Geoffrey was not involved in a lawsuit against Philip and Dinah's aunt Polly and uncle Jocelyn. Any relationship that develops between yourself and Fiona Tripalong could potentially have legal complications.
This being the case I must insist that you proceed with the room move that I have asked the College to arrange for you. I must also ask you not to discuss with her any aspect of my dispute with her father, and in particular not to discuss what allegedly happened in the Hebrides thirty years ago. Additionally, you must not under any circumstances get involved romantically with her.
I hope that clears a few things up for you.
On another note, your great uncle Bill and your great aunt Allie have said that they would like to come and visit you this weekend. Could you give them a call to arrange a time?
Regards,
Dad
Broke the news to Fiona, Mei Ling and Oliver this evening. Fiona said that she's going to be moving on Saturday as well. Turns out that her father had said pretty much the same thing to her and had asked to move her to a different room too. All of us bitterly disappointed at this turn of events, but we agreed that since we're still going to be in the same College, we can still meet together and socialise regardless.
Phoned great uncle Bill and great auntie Allie. They're coming to see me on Sunday at about one o'clock. They'll be taking me out for lunch.
Friday 7 October
Sleepless night last night. Just about out of my mind with worry about my impending room move. Coming up to Cambridge in the first place was stressful enough because I had no idea what kind of neighbours I was going to end up with, and now I'm going through all the same stress all over again. To make matters worse, the College authorities haven't told me which room they're moving me to either and are only going to be letting me know on the day. Why this is the case is completely beyond me, but it wouldn't surprise me if it's on Dad's instructions.
Chemistry and Computer Science lectures in the morning. Tried to take notes but couldn't stay focused. Fortunately Mei Ling lent me her notes so I was able to take a copy of them. Afternoon free so I tried to spend some time working my way through the first set of problems that we've been set for Maths, but once again I couldn't concentrate so eventually I gave up and went for a long walk. Ended up in Grantchester so I knocked on auntie Dinah's door. No joy—she was out. Down in Westminster no doubt.
Someone came up with some removal boxes for myself and Fiona at lunchtime. Packed everything up when I got back from my walk then spent the evening playing Scrabble with Fiona, Mei Ling and Oliver. Didn't have any supper: the stress of my move has completely robbed me of my appetite.