Darwin College Bar

A couple of days later I returned from my department to discover a book in my pigeonhole in the porter’s lodge.

As I pulled it out, the words on the spine leapt out at me and my heart sank.

Borstal Boy by Brendan Behan.

The game was up. I’d been exposed and in that moment I realised my stay here at Darwin College might not be the cakewalk I’d anticipated. I slid the book beneath my arm so no one else would see it and headed for the reading room to sit down and gather my thoughts. I found the room empty which served my purpose and I took a seat.

I opened the book and saw a name written on the inside cover – Leah Barber.

*

“Jesus, Leah, I was completely fuckin’ freaked. I thought some Cambridge toff had placed it there and it was the beginning of my downfall. Then I saw your name on the inside cover.”

Leah was mortified and couldn’t believe she’d inadvertently frightened me. I informed her she was obliged to pay for my beer all evening and she happily agreed. More students were pouring into the bar and soon we were all laughing together and trying to forget whatever the day had brought. Darwin College bar is the place to forget failed experiments; bad data; upcoming assignments, exams, or essays; the imminent PhD viva, whatever. There’s a reason drinking’s so ubiquitous in universities.

We continued to drink until the bell announcing last orders was rung then Leah said she had to leave. Some friends and I had lined up a few beers so we could continue drinking for another hour. We said our goodbyes, she apologised once again for the book thing, and I jumped straight back into a conversation regarding the pros and cons of drug consumption in academia - i.e., marijuana, micro-dosing LSD, psilocybe mushrooms etc.

“Nope, doesn’t work for me,” I piped up, “I was in the lecture theatre in the mornings thinking, Shit, am I the only one in here without a brain?’ You know, that foggy head thing?”

“It totally helps me,” this from a student I’d met in Darwin bar several times before, “helps me retain information, write my essays, even deal with my supervisor.”

This was met with much laughter.

“Also, you know the guy who invented the PCR? He was a California surfing dude dropping acid and smoking weed like there was no tomorrow”.

My phone pinged at this moment. It was a message from Leah.

“Hey Christian, I’ve left my cardigan in the dining room cloakroom. If you get a chance, would you mind grabbing it for me?”

The evening wound up and I left the bar to find Leah’s cardigan. It was dark at the top of the stairs, so I slid my hand along the wall until I found a light-switch.

I flicked it on and my ears were shattered by the sound of an incredibly loud siren reverberating throughout the whole college.

Fuck, I thought, that ain’t the light switch!

I bolted down the stairs and exited the building as fast as I could, then made my way south along Silver Street heading for King’s Parade but, ultimately, a late-night bar called Novi. I couldn’t deal with the situation and took the only recourse I could in that moment – more beer now, worry about the fire alarm later.

I looked back along Silver Street and saw maybe fifty students, mostly in their nightwear, filing out of Darwin College to stand on the street awaiting the fire brigade.

Fuck! I headed for Novi.

*

I awoke to the sound of an alarm in my head. I sat bolt upright.

The previous night came rushing back to me and I knew I’d need to confess my crime rather than await the inevitable accusation. I quickly dressed and headed downstairs.

“Morning, Arthur”.

“Good morning, Sir.” This was Arthur’s catchphrase. I’m not certain it was a throwback from his former career as a copper or an affectation adopted since becoming a Cambridge porter, but he never greeted me in any other way.

“I’ve a confession to make,” I said sheepishly.

“A confession?”

“Yeah. Last night I was in the bar and Leah asked me to retrieve her cardigan from upstairs…”

I noticed a hint of a smile at the corners of Arthur’s mouth and wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“I went upstairs, went to switch the light on and all hell broke loose.”

“It’s okay, Sir. I know what happened as you’re all over the CCTV footage. There should’ve been a pane of glass over the fire alarm, and it’s been rectified by maintenance this morning. Perhaps next time you could report it to us here in the lodge? Have a good day, Sir.”