‘Bugger,’ Streator repeated a few moments later. ‘I apologize, gentlemen,’ he said, slamming his diary shut, ‘but I am going to have to cut this supervision short. I owe you,’ he checked his watch, ‘nineteen minutes. Your essay this week will be on the role Konrad Adenauer played as the first chancellor of West Germany following the Second World War. I recommend that you read A. J. P. Taylor and Richard Hiscocks, who have differing opinions on the subject. I believe neither of them to be wholly correct, but don’t let that influence you,’ he said as he headed out of the room. ‘Karpenko,’ he added, almost as an afterthought, ‘as you’re a member of the Cambridge team, I suggest you join me.’
The porter hurried down the steps at a speed he only considered in grave emergencies, followed by the Senior Tutor, with Sasha bringing up the rear. When Streator entered the porter’s lodge, he was greeted with a warm smile by his opposite number, Gareth Jenkins, a Welshman he’d never really cared for, and eight Oxford undergraduates who were trying hard not to smirk.
‘I’m so sorry, Gareth,’ said Streator. ‘I thought the match was next week.’
‘I think you’ll find that it’s scheduled for four o’clock this afternoon, Edward,’ said Jenkins, handing over the letter of confirmation, with the senior tutor’s unmistakable signature scrawled along the bottom.
‘Could you give me an hour or so, old chap, so I can rustle up the rest of my team?’
‘I’m afraid not, Edward. The match is in the fixture list for four o’clock this afternoon, which leaves us,’ he said, checking his watch, ‘sixteen minutes before play will commence. Otherwise it will be recorded as a whitewash.’ The Oxford team were already celebrating.
‘But I can’t possibly round up my entire team in sixteen minutes. Do be reasonable, Gareth.’
‘Can you imagine what the reaction would have been had Montgomery said to Rommel, can you hold up the battle of El Alamein for an hour or so, old chap, I’ve got the wrong day and my men aren’t ready?’
‘This is not El Alamein,’ replied Streator.
‘Clearly not for you,’ was Jenkins’s response.
‘But I’ve only got one member of my team on hand,’ said Streator, sounding even more frustrated.
‘Then he’ll have to take on all eight of us,’ said Jenkins, who paused before adding, ‘at the same time.’
‘But—’ protested Streator.
‘That’s fine by me,’ said Sasha.
‘This should be amusing,’ said Jenkins. ‘Not so much El Alamein as the Charge of the Light Brigade.’
Streator reluctantly led the Oxford team out of the lodge and across the court to the Junior Combination Room, where two college servants were quickly setting up a row of chessboards on the refectory table. Streator kept looking at the clock and then glancing towards the doorway in the hope that at least one other member of the team might turn up. But all he saw was a mass of undergraduates flooding in to witness the forthcoming annihilation.
The eight Oxford players took their places at the boards, ready for combat. Sasha, like Horatio, stood alone on the bridge, while Streator and Jenkins, as match referees, took up their positions at either end of the table.
As the clock on the wall struck four, Jenkins declared, ‘Time. Let the matches commence.’
Oxford’s top board moved his queen’s pawn two squares forward. Sasha responded by advancing his king’s pawn one square, just as the Cambridge captain came rushing into the hall.
‘Sorry, sir,’ he said, catching his breath. ‘I thought the match was next week.’
‘Mea culpa,’ admitted Streator. ‘Why don’t you take the second board, as the match has only just begun?’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ said Jenkins. ‘Our man has already made his first move, so the match is under way. Therefore your captain is no longer eligible to take part.’
Streator would have complained if he hadn’t thought Field Marshal Montgomery’s name would have been taken in vain a second time.
The Oxford second board made his opening move. Sasha countered immediately, as more undergraduates wandered into the hall to watch the challenger as he moved on to the next board. Within a few minutes, two more members of the Cambridge team had appeared, but they were also obliged to watch the encounter from the sidelines.
Sasha defeated his first opponent within twenty minutes, which was greeted with a warm round of applause. The next dark blue king fell eleven minutes later, by which time the whole of the Cambridge team were present, but as the hall was so packed they had to watch proceedings from the balcony above.
The third and fourth Oxford men took a little longer to surrender to Sasha’s particular skills, but they nonetheless fell within the hour, by which time there was standing room only in the hall and the balcony was heaving with undergraduates, and even a few elderly dons.
The next three Oxford players kept Sasha occupied for another half hour, but eventually they too succumbed, leaving only their top board remaining on the battlefield. Be patient, Sasha could hear his father saying. Eventually he’ll make a mistake. And he did, twenty minutes later, when Sasha sacrificed a rook and the Oxford captain left an opening that he would regret in another seven moves when Sasha declared, for the eighth time, ‘Checkmate.’
Oxford’s top board rose from his place, shook hands with Sasha and bowed low. ‘We are unworthy,’ he said, which was greeted with spontaneous applause.
‘I do believe that’s a whitewash,’ said Streator once the applause had died down. ‘And I think it’s only fair to warn you, Gareth, that young Karpenko is a freshman, and I’ll make sure I get the right date when we visit you next year.’
*
Sasha wondered if he’d ever get used to a woman paying for a round of drinks. ‘Have you considered standing for the Union committee?’ Fiona asked him as she handed him a lager.
He took a sip, which gave him time to think about his response. ‘What would be the point?’ he eventually said. ‘I can’t even make up my mind which party I support, so who would even consider voting for me?’
‘Far more people than you realize,’ said Ben before taking a long draught. ‘After your rousing speech in the Queen and Country debate, and then trouncing the entire Oxford chess team single-handed, they’d vote for you if you stood as a Russian Separatist.’
‘Will you be standing, Ben?’ Sasha asked.
‘You bet. And Fiona’s put her name down for vice-president.’
‘Well, you’re guaranteed at least two votes from a couple of your most devoted admirers,’ said Sasha.
‘Thank you,’ said Fiona. ‘But there are plenty of men, including some in my own party, who still think a woman’s place is in the kitchen.’
‘Shame on them,’ said Ben, raising his glass.
‘Not to mention those members of the Labour Party who consider me to be somewhere on the right of Attila the Hun.’
Ben placed his empty glass on the table. ‘Another round?’
‘No thanks,’ said Sasha. ‘I need an early night if I’m going to explain to Dr Streator why I think he’s wrong about the Soviet people being best suited to living under a totalitarian regime, even a tsar.’
‘Heady stuff,’ said Ben. ‘I wouldn’t dare to disagree with my supervisor.’
‘Would he even recognize you if you ever turned up to one of his supervisions?’ said Sasha.
Ben ignored the comment. ‘What about you, Fiona, will you join me for another round?’
‘Much as I’d love to, Ben, I also need to get to bed. I don’t want to fall asleep during tomorrow’s Torts lecture.’
‘I’d join you,’ said Ben, ‘but I’ve just spotted a group of Liberals who I need to butter up if I’m to have any chance of being elected to the committee.’
‘Remember to put in a good word for me,’ said Fiona. ‘And don’t forget you’ll be disqualified from standing if you buy them a drink this close to the election.’
‘Ben’s right, you know,’ she said to Sasha as they headed out of the Union bar and down the cobbled path to King’s Parade.
‘Right about what?’
‘That you should stand for the committee,’ said Fiona. ‘You might not be elected first time, but you’d be putting down a marker.’
‘A marker for what?’
‘Higher office.’
‘I don’t think so. I’ll leave that to you.’
‘You should at least consider it. Because once you’ve decided which party you support, you could even end up as Union president.’
‘I thought that was the job you were after?’
‘I am. But as there’s a new president every term, why shouldn’t we both achieve it?’
‘I hadn’t considered standing for the committee,’ said Sasha, ‘let alone president.’
‘Then it’s time you did. Are you going to walk me back to my college?’