Broke

It was. The Vice-Chancellor was flanked by four other members of the University's Senate. We were served tea and biscuits sat around a conference table. The Vice-Chancellor sat at one end. After he had welcomed us he stated bluntly that the discussions in this room had to remain secret, with some of it covered by the Official Secrets Act. He asked Professor Amos, another Senate member, to take over.

"As you know," Professor Amos said, "all seven of you are in the Territorial Army and are likely to be called up to serve in Afghanistan. The five of us..." He looked around at the Vice-Chancellor and Senate members, "...are all ex-military so we understand the dilemma you face. Your final examinations are several months away but you should join your units before then. Either you resign from the Territorial Army when the nation needs you, or you could fail to complete your degrees."

We nodded. That was the situation as we saw it.

"The Vice-Chancellor and the full Senate have discussed your problem and we think we have a solution to offer. It has to remain in confidence between us and you. It could be unreasonable to ask you to sit your examinations early. You might not do justice to yourselves. So we have decided to award you your degrees based on the recommendations of the appropriate professors..."

He paused. We looked at each other. Some of our professors were hard taskmasters. Would their recommendations be good enough?

"Those professors made our decision easy. I am pleased to say that they have all recommended that all seven of you should be awarded a First in your discipline."

That was unexpected.

"We understand through our unofficial contacts in the Ministry of Defence that you will receive orders to join your units next week and should be with your units on the following Monday. If you accept the Senate's offer of Firsts to be awarded at the time other final students get their results, you can leave the University any time from today."

"That's before the Valentine dance," Martin blurted.

"It is," The Vice-Chancellor replied. "It might be awkward for you if you went. Some of the student body are not happy with soldiers among them. I doubt they would go further than expressing their disapproval..."

"But it would be politic for us to be gone before our call-up is announced," I said.

The Vice-Chancellor nodded.

"Those of you who have bought tickets can get refunds," Professor Amos added. "I will be joining you in Afghanistan so I'll need a refund too. There are more people who want to be at that dance than there are tickets so it shouldn't be a problem. But you haven't said whether you'll accept the Senate's offer of Firsts."

We looked at each other.

"We accept," Martin said. The rest of us nodded.

We could sense the tension relax.

"Thank you," The Vice-Chancellor said. "But our agreement must remain in confidence until the results are announced normally at the usual time. OK?"

"What about our girlfriends?" Martin asked.

"You can tell Hannah," Professor Amos said. "She's going too. But the Official Secrets Act applies. Our offer has been cleared with the Ministry of Defence. The rest of you? Please be discreet."

+++

Back in the student accommodation we gathered in the kitchen. We were in a slight state of shock. We would all have Firsts but we had to leave soon. We agreed to leave on Saturday, making frantic phone calls to parents to collect us.

"Why not?" I said suddenly. Martin and Cathy looked at me.

"Why not what?" Cathy asked.

"Why don't we have a Valentine party here on Friday night -- just the seven of us and significant others?"

That led to a heated discussion. It would be a farewell event too. It would have to be low-key because we needed to be packed and ready to leave the next morning. Eventually we all agreed. Martin contacted Hannah and other boy/girlfriends were invited.

+++

The Friday night came. We weren't sure at first whether we were celebrating or having a wake. Cathy was wearing her ball gown. I was wearing my evening suit. I looked at Cathy leaning against me in a slow dance. I knew I loved her. We had been together as friends for nearly three years. My indecision about the expensive Valentine dance had been the only problem between us.

When the dance ended I pushed Cathy away slightly. I held her hand as I knelt before her. Martin realised what I intended and stopped the next piece of music.

"Cathy? Will you marry me? Please?" I said into the silence.

Cathy looked down at me. She was startled. She smiled faintly.

"You're sure, Alan?" she asked.

"Yes," I said too loudly. "Will you marry me?"

Cathy pulled my head against her body.

"Yes." That was very quiet but clear.

"Yes." Cathy repeated louder.

Our friends clapped. Cathy hugged me tightly to her bodice.

"Hannah?" Martin said as the clapping stopped.

"You can't! Martin! You can't!" Hannah protested.

"I can," Martin retorted.

He dropped to his knees in front of Hannah.

"Hannah? Will you marry me please?"

Hannah waited at least thirty seconds before her reply.

"Yes, Martin. Yes."

Our early Valentine and farewell party turned into a double engagement party.

Tomorrow we leave the university. Soon we will all be in Afghanistan for what is supposed to be a six-month tour of duty. Marriages will have to wait. Service in our country's forces comes first...

The End.