Read Online Matricide at St. Martha's by Ruth Dudley Edwards - Free Book Online Page A

walked over to the Bursar. ‘I’m going in now, you old ruffian, and I may be some little time.’

----
    8
    « ^ »
    ‘How could you?’ he asked as she entered his bedroom ten minutes later bearing the cat basket.
    ‘How could I what? Pack this animal up by myself, you mean? Easy. She’s a pushover. You make so much fuss.’
    ‘How could you engineer a cat and dog fight? They might have killed each other.’
    ‘Rubbish. I never thought there’d be any danger of anything worse than a scratch on the nose and there wasn’t. Besides, I had thoughtfully provided that bucket of water for emergencies. She isn’t a bit hurt.’
    The Bursar appeared to be right. Plutarch showed no signs of any ailment other than the lassitude one might expect after such vigorous exercise. She headed straight for the bed and began a perfunctory wash and brush up.
    ‘What were you trying to achieve?’
    ‘Not sure really. It just seemed a good idea at the time. Besides, I’m generally in favour of stirring things up a bit. It does old Francis good to have his routine interrupted. And I found the whole episode diverting.’
    ‘Did she inflict any damage on that wretched excuse for a dog?’
    ‘Alas no, it was a draw.’
    ‘But she did pretty well with Pusey.’
    ‘That was an unexpected bonus. I don’t suppose you’d be prepared to bring her along to the Council meeting this morning?’
    ‘Bursar, I’m going straight to the telephone to locate a cattery. I’m not going to have this animal embroiled in your amoral activities any further.’
    ‘You haven’t time,’ she said smugly. ‘The meeting’s in five minutes.’
    ‘Do I have to be there?’
    ‘Of course you have to be there. You’re a Fellow, aren’t you?’
    ‘Why does nobody ever tell me anything?’
    ‘Keeps you on your toes. Now stop lazing about and come on. “It’s mainsail haul, my bully boys all”. We’ve got man’s work to do.’
    ‘Are you going to tell me anything about what to expect?’
    ‘Certainly not. You’ll pick it up as you go along. I hope you’ve been reading your Clausewitz.’
    ‘Didn’t he go on about war being only an extension of diplomacy.’
    ‘Bugger the philosophy, it’s his military tips I’m interested in. He said we should keep in mind three main targets: the enemies’ forces, resources and will to fight. I’m particularly concentrating on undermining the last.’
    ‘Well, I hope it will cheer you up if I assure you that like the Duke of Wellington, although I don’t know what effect you have on the enemy, my God, you frighten me.’
    She simpered. ‘You mustn’t turn my head. Now come along, it’s time we went and stirred the shit.’
    As he left the room, Amiss observed that Plutarch had fallen into an exhausted sleep. He rather wished he could join her.
    Accelerating down the corridor after the Bursar, Amiss wondered why he was always chasing after her. She was more than thirty years his senior, was four inches shorter than him and two stone heavier.
    ‘Jet propulsion,’ he muttered as he caught her up.
    ‘What?’
    ‘You. I was wondering where you get your turn of speed from. Not to speak of your energy.’
    ‘It’s not that I’m particularly energetic. It’s that all you lot are anaemic. It comes from all that faddy eating and no bad habits.’
    Amiss was about to deny this slur indignantly when his attention was distracted by what sounded like loud chanting.
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘Another demo.’
    ‘Who, what, where, why?’
    As he approached the source of the disturbance he could make out ‘What do we want?’ followed by something indistinct and then by ‘When do we want it? Now.’
    ‘What do they want?’
    ‘Gender and ethnic studies, “GES”.’
    ‘That’s not what it sounds like.’
    ‘That’s because some of them want ethnic and gender studies. And some of them think all this too non-specific and want black and gender or even gender and black and then some would prefer women’s