Discussing the module in my kitchen, the students and I worked out that we all fell in love around week 7.
When we moved the conversation into the hall I started to feel chilly, so I excused myself to pop into my bedroom and put on some clothes.
VJ had been contracted to cook for a couple of celebrity chefs on daytime television. I volunteered to chop the vegetables (off-camera, in the kitchen).
I was rumbled at the school reunion.
BH worked out that I had passed the present that she had given me for my birthday onto HF for hers.
A mature student with a Geordie accent, supported by a gang of friends, was trying to persuade me that it was appropriate that he write his dissertation on how to revive his wife’s failing sanitation business. I explained that this was not sensible if he wished to be awarded a Masters degree in Computing.
I suggested that he consider researching topics related to the computerisation of sanitation businesses instead.
When JK hacked into RK’s email account he found over 5000 confidential messages exchanged between university admin staff on the subject of academic pay.
The Principal had had a hard choice to make in respect of financial savings. To avoid redundancies, all academic staff would now be required to work just two semesters a year, with a corresponding drop in pay. While this suited my plans perfectly, I imagined that it would not be popular with my colleagues.
I wondered how KB would have taken it when she suddenly appeared brandishing a homemade gauze bag of toiletries as an early Christmas present for me.
Dressed in a shimmering, metallic ballgown, JH spun around the room with TPR. AM looked on in envy.
Meanwhile all I wanted to know was why my colleagues at Loughborough University were encouraging Masters students to write Information Science dissertations on marine biology. How were the staff qualified to supervise and examine such work?
‘It’s OK’, AM assured me. ‘They just bring in guest lecturers for that.’
I could tell KMXX’s mission when I saw her working her way along the line of men. Most of them understood it too, and were not interested.
However, the man in the queue in front of me was instantly smitten. When he realised that I knew this woman, he begged for an introduction. I hesitated, then obliged.
KMXX was clearly delighted that she had made a new conquest. I hoped that her new beau would also be satisfied in the long run.
I was lonely on the beach and looking for company (when not almost losing my Blackberry in the water when the tide came in).
I looked through pub and café doors in the hope of finding someone I knew. All I found were gatherings of unfriendly young people and landlords who were ignoring the smoking ban.
Then I spotted a Facebook post from MSB. She was in a nearby ice cream parlour enjoying a birthday treat of afternoon tea. I was overjoyed at the prospect of ending my loneliness in the company of my dear friend.
My ex-boyfriend ST invited me and his three other exes (including the wife) round to his house. Here he served us tea and scones at a long, highly-polished, mahogany table.