Читать книгу Voyage of Innocence - Elizabeth Edmondson - Страница 20

Vee would never forget the first night in hall, for Freshers’ Dinner. It was a handsome panelled room with the high table for the dons set on a raised area at one end and three long tables in the main part of the hall for the undergraduates.

The noise of all those women’s voices startled Lally; Claudia and Vee were used to it.

‘Just like school,’ remarked Claudia, raising her voice to be heard above the din.

A tall girl in a scholar’s gown stood and said a Latin grace, and the maids rushed to and fro serving the food. Claudia said it was dreadful; Vee would have eaten a plate of raw turnips that evening, and not noticed it.

When the plates were cleared away and coffee had been served, a wiry woman, grey hair pulled back in a severe bun, rose from her seat. She waited for the buzz of conversation to die down, and said a few more words in Latin. Then she swept sharp eyes over the assembled undergraduates.

‘The Mistress of Grace,’ Vee’s neighbour hissed in her ear. ‘Dr Margerison, the biologist.’

‘This picture that hangs behind me is a striking portrait of our founder, Dame Eleanor Grace,’ Dr Margerison began.

‘Grim old party,’ Claudia said, sotto voce.

Actually, she looked to Vee as though she had a twinkle in her eye, unlike the rest of the biddies pinned on the wall around the hall. Was that what brains and education did to you, turned you austere and disapproving and thin-lipped? The fact that most of them were dressed in the clothes of the last century didn’t help, of course, high-necked, sombre clothes, or academic dress. Dame Eleanor, in her portrait, appeared to be wearing a pith helmet.

‘Why the camel?’ Lally whispered to Claudia. She shrugged, but Dr Margerison soon enlightened her.

‘Dame Eleanor was a pioneer. She was eminent in her field of Egyptology and all her life had a passion for the education of women. That is why, when she came into a fortune, after the untimely death of her only brother, she used her inheritance to found and endow this college.

‘You who are here today, starting out on a new life as members of this great university, are the cream of your generation. Gifted with intelligence and the capacity for hard work, you have become part of a centuries-old tradition of learning and scholarship.

‘Here at Grace, we expect the young women who come to us to display the same characteristics as our founder: intelligence, diligence, intrepidity, persistence in the face of adversity, combined with a sense of duty, honour and love of country. And to this love of country, we hope that you add love of this university and of this college and that none of you throughout your lives will do anything to bring the institutions that have nourished you into disrepute.

‘We live in restless, difficult times. Young people today are keenly aware of the world they live in, and the rights and wrongs existing within our society. We encourage compassion and concern for those less privileged than ourselves; you will find many ways in which you can contribute to the good of others while you are here.

‘We expect, however, that your energies will be first and foremost directed to your studies, the raison d’être of your presence here, so that when you go down, neither you nor your tutors feel that you have wasted your time here.

‘We are a college founded on Christian principles, and Evening Prayers, held at six p.m. in the chapel, are compulsory for all undergraduates; this is an opportunity for us to come together as a community and the time when notices concerning the college are given out.’

She paused for a moment, her cool eyes sweeping over the faces looking up at her.

‘I and the Fellows of our college welcome you to Grace. We hope, and expect, that you will make the best possible use of your time here, and go forth into the world more complete human beings as a result of what you will learn and experience at this university.’

Vee pulled back the sheets and got into bed. The mattress was lumpy and the sheets were starched into discomfort; she’d had worse at school. Goodbye Verity, the Dean’s daughter, she said to herself as she pummelled her pillow into submission. Hello Miss Trenchard, undergraduate of the University of Oxford.

There was a volley of knocks on the wall and Claudia’s voice came through, muffled but comprehensible. ‘For God’s sake, I think they’ve stuffed my mattress with a dead donkey.’

‘Goodnight,’ Vee called back. And from the other side of the corridor came an echoing goodnight from Lally.