Louise Spreads Her "Wings".

Louise spreads her wings.

Chapter I

This is a sequel to Louise's adventures in Rome in Summer 1956. Mid-January 1957

I received a long letter from Marlene today; she's invited me to be her 'Maid of Honour' which translates to British as 'best maid' at her upcoming wedding to held in Frascati Cathedral in the beginning of May 1st ten days after Easter. She even offered to pay my fare and accommodation! What a cheek, she said nothing about the dresses I'll need. Joking really, I'll have to get Dad to extend my allowance. I saw some very nice dresses in Copelands in Sauchiehall St last week! They'll need to be quite swanky. I imagine it will be a very dressy affair.

It turns out that because of the delayed ratification of Paulo's first marriage dissolution, she'll be seven months pregnant at the time of the actual ceremony, she'll definitely need to have a large veil and train to disguise her condition! Although I imagine she will want a white dress. It'll go well with her gorgeous red hair. Apparently, the arrangements for dissolution of Paulo's earlier marriage took a bit longer than expected, as the Papal office discovered that his ex, Maria, was also pregnant! Some squaring of that dissonant occurrence was needed to the claim that her marriage had been unconsummated! It took an extra few weeks to sort this out. But the Curia agreed to the dissolution pronto when they heard that the father of Maria's child was none other than the bishop who had declared that she was imperforate. Any plea that Maria could have had an immaculate conception was likely to fall upon deaf ears. Immaculate conceptions have gone out of fashion these days with the Curia, unless they happened a very long time ago. They got the all-clear last week for the dissolution and wedding date. So, they will be married in time to move into their new house, which is a mile or so up the hill from the Minardi estate in Frascati, where she and Paulo are currently staying, when they're not in Rome with Luigi and his mum.

She mentioned that Luigi's mum is in mourning, as his dad died at the beginning of December, and she was glad of her company. They were getting on well and she was giving her lessons on proper Italian diction, to iron out her, low-class Italian speak. So that she could pass as patrician, like the rest of the Biaggi clan. Luigi, Marlene and her banker friend, Guilia had been working hard on preparing a loan agreement and business plan for the Biaggi business to borrow a lot of money from the Curia Bank. Banco Ambrosio. Luigi's good friend, the Holy Father had been a big help in nudging the process forward and they'd managed to secure the loan at low interest rates, so the business was secure. She also mentioned that they'd managed to sell a pasta factory and canning factory in Naples at surprisingly good prices, and they'd also divested themselves of their sheep farms in Sardinia.

Their new house came with a large amount of extra wine growing land, so with the loan the Biaggi vineyards were now more than double in size. They planned to appoint an agronomist to the board, buy a new high capacity temperature controlled fermentation tank and other agricultural machinery to improve the efficiency of the viticulture business. She said that she'd invite Mauro and Vicky too and a few others I knew to the wedding and if I wanted to, I could bring a friend; she suggested Dean, if he was still on the scene. He isn't at present, I haven't seen him in a while. Obviously, her Mum and Dad would be coming over from Philadelphia too, maybe by boat and one or two of the Philly mob as well to size up the prospects of further collaboration.

I'll discuss the visit with Mum, it's expensive to fly to Rome from Glasgow, actually via Heathrow, and going by train all the way is a time-consuming hassle, but I should go, definitely. Being invited to be "maid of honour" is a privilege which I shouldn't disregard, I feel attached to Marlene and the Italians I met last summer, and I'd like to keep up with my Italian, I haven't used it at all, since I returned from Rome. It seems ages ago, if I don't use it, it will soon be forgotten.

The other good news is that Davie's been given a place in Medicine from September. He'll be allowed to pass straight into second year as he has been given credits for his studies in Rome by the Glasgow Medical Faculty, the same as they let English students who have done A levels. Apparently, Luigi managed to wangle it by pulling some other strings, so the Scottish College let him go on health grounds with an honourable discharge. Good for Davie and good for Luigi, I'll have to give him a special thank you when I see him at Marlene's wedding, I wonder how he feels about Marlene becoming his cousin's wife.

I've been very pre-occupied with my work at uni. The guy in charge of my tutorial group on contract law is a newly appointed lecturer, Dr Laurence Rabin. He's in his mid-twenties, he's very tall, at least 6ft 3 or 4, skeletally thin and good looking. It's hard to judge with clothes, but he seems quite athletic too, will have to suspend judgement, and has a lot of frizzy hair on his head and wrists, so probably all over, and wears horn rimmed glasses to match his reddy-brown hair. He's very well dressed, expensive well-fitting suits and shiny brown shoes. He's formidably clever too and judging from his appreciative glances that he makes furtively when he thinks I'm not looking, he seems to like the look of me too, quite a dish! I'll see if I can cultivate him. I'll ask him about enforceability of oral contracts. I wonder what mark he'll give me for my last essay. It'll be a good test of his interest.

At the end of the tutorial, the other two students dashed off at once for tea or to the library, Dr Rabin, asked me to stay behind; "I'm very impressed with your last essay Miss Donaldson, it was outstanding, showed great depth of knowledge and was well balanced, most commendable!"

"Well thank you kind sir," I said, slightly cheekily, "my name's Louise by the way."

"I'm fully aware of that Miss Donaldson, but in class we should address one another formally and politely. You Miss Donaldson, me Dr Rabin. That's how it's done here in Glasgow, although when I was in Yale, last year the tutorials were more informal, also in Oxford when I was there, we were on first names terms in tutorials, we were less formal, although not always in Cambridge."

"So, you've studied at Oxford, Cambridge and Yale?"

"Yes, I did my undergrad studies at Balliol College, Oxford and went on to its sister College, St John's Cambridge for my Ph. D. in contract law. Whilst doing my Ph. D. I also passed my English bar exams and afterwards did a couple of years as a post-doctoral fellow at Yale in their Law department."

"My goodness Dr Rabin, that's really outstanding! I imagine you'll be made a full Professor in no time! But I was wanting to ask you about whether unwritten non-verbal contracts were enforceable in Law, if no concrete sign of an agreement is available."

"That's a very interesting question, Miss Donaldson, there's a section in my Ph. D. on this contentious topic and I'm currently writing a book on Contract Law that will include several chapters on this very topic. I hope it will be published next year. But what was your question exactly?"

"I wanted to ask what kinds of non-verbal signs between the offeror and offeree are acceptable in Law. A nod or a wink at an auction seem to be deniable and easily misunderstood by either party."

"You're absolutely right, ambiguity is the bugbear of all contracts, not just unwritten ones. Written contracts are full of ambiguities. Our job should be to reduce these to a minimum, by using plain language and not to obscure the message with legal jargon which is commonly found with contracts drawn up by pompous or devious lawyers whose primary purpose is to deceive either their clients, the offeror, or their offeree, usually the buyer. We should stick to plain speech and avoid ambiguity as much as possible, don't you agree Miss Donaldson?"

"Well, when there's a lot at stake, I agree but on occasion I think a degree of nebulousness is useful in case there is a need to alter one's plans."

"Ah, provision to make a change in plan due to altered circumstances often occurs in legal and contracts, it's called a Conditional Contract. For example, a contract could be made on a sale, on condition that the buyer obtains planning permission, so one can make provision for the necessary occurrence of a specific event."

"Thank you, Dr Rabin, I'd love to continue with this fascinating discussion, but I'm dying of thirst and hunger, would you like to continue over a cup of tea or coffee, in the new coffee bar on Ashton Rd."

"I'd like nothing more, but I think it'd be unwise if we were seen together in such a public place, don't you agree?"

"Mmm, if it were to become a regular occurrence it might cause some comment, although a single occurrence of a student having cup of coffee and perhaps a cake, with her tutor shouldn't raise too many eyebrows."

"I think that would depend on the student and the tutor. Some students are more likely to be noticed than others. You are conspicuous, in a good way, of course and a lot of students recognise me."

"So, are you are hinting, Dr Rabin, that we meet in secret somewhere?"

"Not exactly, but if you wish but we could have tea in my apartment, which is quite close at hand. Unfortunately, I can't offer you any cake, or biscuits."

"Sounds okay, I'll buy some biscuits at the Union shop, I'm hungry, what's your address?"

"Hillhead St, 18B, it's a first-floor apartment.

"Ok, I'll be along in about half an hour."

That went even better than I planned, but I'll be cautious, I don't think he wants a quick shag, although not impossible, but there are ethics and moral considerations and as he warned, appearances too. Too much too soon, may frighten him off. I'll buy a box of Tunnock's teacakes, that's likely to be a persuasive aphrodisiac.

Laurie's apartment was surprisingly well appointed and roomy. When I rang the bell, the door automatically clicked open and I heard a call from upstairs, "come up Louise, I'm on the first floor."

It's a subdivided terrace house, the ground floor occupied by a dentist's surgery. I climbed the carpeted stairway and at once entered the large lounge cum dining room with a well-appointed kitchen annex that occupied the remainder of the first floor. All spotlessly clean, the lounge leather furniture, a large couch and two arm chairs looked new, as did the G-plan dining suite, a desk was placed underneath the triple row of tall casement windows facing onto the front lawn guarded by iron railings. This was no student garret.

Three bookshelves were crammed with legal books and the bottom shelf filled with old black leather and gold embossed books with what looked like Hebrew Script. There were several pictures on the walls, two pictures of Oxbridge Colleges, another with a group of young men holding tennis rackets. It too was embossed in gold print, St John's, Cambridge 1953. Another with a group of eight serious looking lads in shorts and blazers standing in front of rowing boat, which read Balliol College, 2nd eight, 1951, a third, in colour showed a tall, bearded man wearing a black Homberg hat and a black overcoat standing with a tallish lady, about forty in a long mink fur coat and reddish hat and a lad of about twelve or thirteen wearing a black skull cap also wearing a black overcoat standing between them, all were smiling. They were standing in front of the door of what looked like a synagogue, a redbrick Gothic style affair with a central tower and a stained-glass window above the Gothic arched doorway. The boy looked unmistakably like Dr Rabin's younger brother, although his frizzy hair was even more luxuriant. He had a cheeky self-confident grin. A very large oar hung on the side wall, with nine names engraved, one of which read Laurence Rabin. There was another recent framed photo of Laurence with a young, tall and attractive young woman standing in front of a small sailing boat, in a boatyard, displaying a notice New Haven Yacht Club. Significantly they were standing apart and she wasn't flashing a ring. An upright piano with a violin case on top with a score of a Chopin Mazurkas was open on the piano music rest.

I took all this in at a glance. "You have a very nice apartment Dr Rabin and so convenient for the Law Department and Library."

"Yes, I rent it from the University. It's been newly renovated. Most of the houses in this street are conversions from terrace houses to apartments. I have the upper floor as well, with two bedrooms. Obviously, I don't have much need for the second, not yet anyway, and when you're in my home you should call me Laurence or Laurie, I don't mind which."

"So, I take it, obviously no Mrs Rabin."

"No, not yet nor, none in the offing, regrettably."

I decided not to question the identity of the boat lady. "I've brought you something for our tea."

I produced the packet of teacakes. "Thanks, I've only got marmalade and sliced bread, and tea of course."

"Oh, I hope you haven't made any jam sandwiches, I'm trying to avoid consuming unnecessary calories and I'll be going home for dinner quite soon."

"So, you live at home with your parents?"

"Yes, it's not far, about a twenty-minute walk from here."

"Very convenient."

"Mmm yes, except for the 9.00 am lectures. It means I have to be up before 8.00am which is a real drag."

"So, you're a night person like me, I detest getting up in the morning too. I don't eat jam sandwiches either."

"Noo no, the teacakes will do just fine, I shouldn't put on any more weight, should I Laurie?"

"I don't think there's a proper answer to that question, Louise. If I say no, you are fine as you are, you'll probably think I'm hinting that you could lose a pound or two, or if I said yes, you'd be mortally offended. So, I'll say nothing; but what are these sweets wrapped in silver paper?"

"You mean to say that you've never had a Tunnock's tea cake, Laurie?"

"Never come across them before, sorry."

"They're a Glasgow thing. How long have you been here?"

"I moved up from London at the beginning of September, I was staying with my mother for a couple weeks before that, when I returned from the States."

"So, you've been here for just over four months, do you like it? It must be quite a culture shock to come here from the bright lights of London or America."

"Mmm, I like it, although I find I'm a little isolated, I don't know many people here, no family or family connections and I don't do religion, so that leaves the University and as a batchelor, there isn't much of a social scene except for the Senior Common Room, where I normally eat my evening meals and lunch, if I feel like it. Cooking for one is a bit miserable, although I have excellent facilities for doing that, as you see. But I'm mainly preoccupied with preparing my lectures for next term and writing my book, so in a way it's useful to be as isolated as I am."

"It sounds rather monastic, though."

"Oh, I'm used to it. I've been living alone, except in vacations since I was 18, when I went up to Cambridge."

"I see you've a piano and a violin, you could join the University orchestra. I'm in it, we're doing the 'Pirates of Penzance' in the Summer."

"I thought about that, but I like playing chamber music, and I haven't had time to explore the music scene in Glasgow yet and I wouldn't want to be committed to a lot of rehearsals.

"Have you been to any concerts yet at St Andrews Hall? It's really very good and the hall has excellent acoustics."

No, I haven't, would you like to come with me, Louise? When's the next concert?"

"They're held every Saturday evening, during the season, I think there's Mahler's fifth being played this week, there's a new conductor, Hans Swarowsky."

"Yes, he's Austrian, so he must be an expert on Mahler, I'd like to hear that. Shall I book tickets."

"I don't think that'll be necessary, Mahler isn't a great favourite up here in Glasgow, we're not accustomed to his music. Also, Swarowsky hasn't met with much favour here either, for some reason."

"That's a pity, so if we turn up, we can be sure of being able to buy tickets?"

"Definitely, I'll have a cheap student concession, as I play in the University Orchestra, so you'll only need to pay for yourself."

"That's very generous of the Scottish Orchestra, though it's a good investment, it'll ensure an audience for the future, at least as long as they keep subsidising tickets for music students."

"Absolutely! Ok we've a date Laurie, but I warn you, there may be a number of the University crowd in the Hall who might recognise you and a fair number of my orchestral acquaintances."

"And boyfriends too I imagine?"

"I doubt that, as I said Mahler doesn't yet appeal to Scottish music lovers. But let me show how you the proper way to eat these fabulously tasty teacakes. First you carefully remove the silver paper wrapping without tearing and set it aside without crushing it, so that you can smooth it out later, then fold it neatly, before throwing it away! Then press the top of the chocolate dome and start picking the cracked slivers of chocolate coating from the marshmallow, bit by bit, like picking the scab from your knee, and savour each chocolate morsal, until the whole white exposed spongey marshmallow is stripped bare, then you give the hemispherical sweet a lick or two to savour the sugar sweetness. Then you envelop its soft yielding span with your mouth open and draw it from its biscuit base, filling your mouth with sweet softness, then you swallow. After that you can chew the biscuit. But I usually don't bother with that bit."

"It looks like a surrogate for something altogether more appealing and even more sensual, Louise."

"Really Laurie, like what?"

"Let me show you? Come and sit down on the couch"

I went with Laurie to the couch, where we have our first kiss, a little hesitantly at first, then more passionately."

"So, let me show you an alternative non-fattening choice to the teacake experience, but you do you mind removing your sweater, it's unnecessary in this centrally heated apartment"

"There aren't any teacakes underneath, Laurie."

"I thought I saw two quite large surrogates for the teacakes, or perhaps it's the reverse! Can I look?"

With that he unbuttoned my blouse and rubbed his lips over my bra, paying special attention to my turgid nipples, then he deftly unhooked.

"Much nicer sweeter and much bigger than the teacake, but just as pneumatic, but no chocolate coating, perhaps if you wore a brown bra that would be a better metaphor. You could be a poster girl for Tunnock's you know Louise."

"For the teacakes you mean? Not a bad idea Laurie, I'll mention it to my Uncle Jim, he's a professional photographer. I can see a photo of me and my boobs holding a teacake partially stripped of chocolate in one hand whilst tastefully obscuring my right nipple and with the other mouthing a whole one and casting my eyes up to the heavenly light in an ecstasy."

"That sounds a little blasphemous, and I suspect that the joy of the teacake is clandestine, allusive; exposing the naked truth about its suggestive overtones could destroy the allure. Repression of one's subliminal thoughts and desires makes one want to reach out for another teacake. But I've no need to reach for another teacake when I have the real thing right here, under my lips and fingertips and which dazzle my eyes. Worlds away from the gustatory pleasure of the teacake, taking me back to my beginnings when I was held and sustained in mother's arms. So, for me at least a lot more satisfying!"

"Why thankee kind Dr Rabin, but now I must be getting home, my dinner will be getting cold, see you on Saturday 7.15 outside St Andrews Hall."

Chapter II Developments.

As I expected, St Andrew's Halls was half empty for the concert, so we got good seats in the central stalls. An added reason for the low turnout was that it was an all-symphonic concert. Mahler 5th and Brahms 3rd symphonies. Well known soloists usually bring in the crowds. I was unfamiliar with the Mahler but was moved by the adagietto, so appealing and beautiful. I decided that I would explore the rest of his music. It turns out that the adagietto had been written for the love of his life, Alma Schindler, a beautiful and talented, composer of songs and was also very zesty lady, who had lots of affairs with as many of the talented creative artists and composers that she could lay her hands on, the fabulous artist, Gustav Klimpt, Alexander Zemlinsky, a composer and her music teacher. Whilst still in a relationship with Zemlinsky, she met and started an affair with by then famous and influential, Mahler who was aged 41. After a short secret engagement, in 1902 she became Mahler's wife when she was 19. They had two girls, Maria who died of diphtheria, aged 5 and Anna. Maria's death put a strain on the marriage, both Gustave and Alma became depressed and she had an affair with the well-known architect Walter Gropius, whilst Gustav sought solace by consulting with Sigmund Freud. It's thought that Freud may have suggested that Gustav should encourage Alma to resume composing, which he'd discouraged when they got married, as he wanted her to concentrate on homemaking. He relented and edited a few of her songs, five were published in 1910. He died in 1911. Following Mahler's death, when Alma was just 30, she had an affair with the artist Oscar Kokoschka, but soon tired of him and went back to Gropius. They married in 1915 and had a daughter, and son fathered by Franz Werfel, a Czech born Jewish writer and poet. What a fabulous life! Brains, beauty and a fulfilled life with talented lovers, husbands, children, adventure, at the centre of her world, in Vienna and then Hollywood. She had her faults, mind you, a fabulist, self-dramatist, exaggerating Gustav's meanness to her, with money, stifling her creativity until depression drove him to see the sense that she had wondrous talent. What a gal! Not many like her, still it shows what a girl can do by using her talents judiciously.

Anyway, at the interval we came across Brenda Wiley, and Craig and I introduced them to Laurie, Brenda seemed to like the look of Laurie and suggested we meet up for a coffee afterwards.

We found a café still open, as neither Bren nor I wanted to venture into a pub, these tended to be raucous and insalubrious on Saturday nights. We Glaswegians had a joint moan about the fact that this was the best place that we could find in central Glasgow to have a chat and drink on a Saturday night. I asked Laurie how this compared with USA, he said in New Haven where he had been there were lots of places to eat pizza or have a hamburger or a drink, but New Haven was a prosperous small town which had a lot of small industrial units and businesses and of course the University, so it didn't compare with Glasgow which was dominated by very large heavy industries with the large working-class population to service them. They were well served by the very large number of pubs all over the city. In London, coffee bars were springing up all over the centre and in the more prosperous suburbs like Hampstead and Golders Green. In Glasgow, there are a couple of coffee bars around the University which have opened recently, but they probably were closed in the evenings.

"Yes, that's right, in the evenings around Byres Rd, only pubs are open, but it's sure to change soon."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that Bren. The pub owners pay hefty rates and can lean on the local councils to limit the amount of competition they've to face, for the evening trade, so I think it'll be quite slow to change."

"That's very pessimistic, but you're probably right Craig, maybe you should stand for the local Council and change things, in Hillhead and Kelvinside."

"No chance in Kelvinside, there are no pubs there at all, and I think the Tennent's and McEwan's brewing cartels rule the roost in Byers Rd which would be the only practical site to have such evening entertainment venues. But never mind, lets enjoy the coffee, so Dr Rabin, do I understand that you are Louise's tutor in the Law department at the University?"

"Yes Craig, that's correct."

"Don't you think that is an awkward position to be in if you're 'dating' her at the same time?"

"This is our first so-called 'date' together, but should the liaison continue, I agree I will have to ask that she changes her tutor. Fortunately, I will not be examining her this year, as I'm not responsible for setting the exams, but I do mark her essays, which so far have been extremely good, first class, in fact."

"But might the other student's who'll know about any such relationship by Monday, I imagine, not think you would be exerting undue favouritism. I know that if I were in your tutorial group, I might feel a little envious about Louise's special relationship."

"You're right, Craig currently there's no constraint to any such relationship, but I agree that it might become complicated. I remember that there was a very nasty incident with a college tutor and his tutee, when the relationship fell apart. Hysterical scenes on the stairway, and the Master had to be called in to keep the peace. It's a problem, especially if one of the parties is married, as was the case in Oxford. Relationships are tacitly allowed, but the College could not be seen to be condoning adultery. I will ask for Louise to be transferred to another tutor next term, if we're still continuing to see each other socially."

"I think that would be a reasonable and honourable way Laurie, because otherwise, you could find yourself in uncomfortably hot water and I speak as a middle-aged teacher at a boys school, where a relationship between teacher and pupil would be unthinkable, admittedly I teach mainly at a boys' school, and I understand, in some schools relationships of an unhealthy kind do occur. I've heard grim stories about some boarding schools in the Highlands."

"Yes, someone I know who was in the school orchestra, was telling me about the going's on at Fort Augustus."

"So, Dean told you about his unfortunate experiences, did he, Louise? I'm glad that he's able to talk about it, now at least."

"Yes, he did tell me, and I was horrified, and it's clear that the school should be closed. But the circumstances are different, here, I live at home and Laurie isn't in a position to force me to do stuff I'm reluctant to do."

"Well, I think, you're both skating on thin ice, what do you think Bren?"

"I think you're being a bit heavy Craig, how old are you, Laurie?"

"Twenty-five, I'll be twenty-six next month."

"So, not such a big age gap between you and Louise, not like Gustav Mahler and Alma Schindler, twenty years or so wasn't it."

"But Alma was a worldly woman who had had several lovers before she met Mahler, had she not?"

"Are you implying that Louise is a pure unsullied virgin, Craig? Not to be compared with the dangerously unconstrained behaviour that Alma Mahler displayed for all to see."

"Brenda, aren't you totally shocked that Laurie, and Louise are having a sexual relationship?"

"Of course not, I'm sure their discussions are entirely about matters of contract law and such like, isn't that right Laurie?"

"Well mainly, but I have been introduced to the etiquette and protocols of how to eat a Tunnock's teacake, which is not as innocent an activity, as you might think."

"I should think not! In the right hands I can't think of a more incendiary way to take afternoon tea with a lady. How did Louise suggest it should be done?"

"By cracking the shell, then picking off the bits and eating them piecemeal."

"I prefer, breaking the carapace with my lips then inserting the tip of my tongue under the chocolate coating and breaking it off bit by bit, that way you get the dual sensation of sweetness underneath and chocolate on top of the tongue, very satisfying."

"I guess you need to have to have a very mobile and sharp tongue to do that well, Brenda, can I see your tongue?"

"Oh Louise, you've seen a tongue before!"

"There're not all the same though; you know, some are pointy and thin and they can be rolled up at the sides, others are thicker, and their owners are unable to roll them. Look, can you do this?"

Louise sticks out her tongue and rolls the sides inwards to form a tube.

"Yes, I can do that too, can you Craig and Laurie?"

Brenda sticks out her long pointy tongue.

"Now I know where your sharp tongues come from, ladies! You literally do have them. But can you make them into a cloverleaf shape like this or fold it across ways like this, Craig shows off his lingual dexterity."

"Amazing I'm quite envious, I can't do any of these things, I'm completely unable to fold my tongue in any direction."

"Yes, Laurie, I believe it's genetically inherited, being unable to fold your tongue is a recessive gene, so if you can't fold your tongue, you've inherited this incapacity from both your parents."

"That's very interesting, Craig, but I don't really see any genetic advantage for humans at least, do you? It might be useful if you want to pull a caterpillar out of a nook or cranny in tree bark, but not many of us need to do that."

"I believe that the Aboriginals in Australia do just that, as do a lot of other mammals."

"Well, I can think of one useful thing you can do with tongue folding, can't you Bren?"

Bren blushed bright pink, and didn't answer, Laurie, looked enquiringly, at Louise, "do tell."

Craig interjected, "I think Louise might be referring to the practise of cunnilingus."

Bren looked mortified, and hid her face with her hands, but Louise nodded nonchalantly, "Craig, how could you think me so crass, when I was simply thinking of how useful tongue folding to raise the chocolate coating from the teacake and suck it up in a combined series of movements?"

"Would you say that was an example of disingenuousness, Louise? A good ploy in the court room, how to catch the plaintive unawares. But to return to the main theme, frogs are very good with their prehensile tongues too, they can use them to catch flies on the wing. I used to watch them do it whilst I went fly fishing for trout in New Haven and hummingbirds can fold their tongues into a very narrow tube and use them like straws to can suck nectar from depths of flowers without entangling their wings in the petals."

"Now you're both playing games."

"So are you, Mr Watt!"

"No, I merely shot your fox, Louise, so please don't play little Miss Innocent."

"So, Laurie, what did you do in USA, and did you enjoy your experience there?"

"I was continuing and extending the work in comparative contract law I'd been doing for my Ph. D. Investigating how US Federal and State Law differs from English and Scottish Law. And yes, Brenda, I enjoyed my time in Yale very much."

"So why should comparative legal studies be of importance to our students in Scotland."

"The Glasgow Law Department is one of the most forward looking in Britain. As you are no doubt aware, Craig, currently there are five Universities in Scotland with Law Departments, Glasgow, Edinburgh, St Andrews, Aberdeen, and Glasgow Technical College, all graduating a surplus of lawyers to local requirements. Scottish Law, although similar to the rest of UK law, differs substantially in several ways. And more importantly the Scottish Legal Practice certification isn't recognised in England, or Wales, so anyone graduating here will have to retake their solicitors' or English Bar exams in England. It's a cartel Scotland has organized to protect their own home-grown legal practise from being overrun by England. So, if they are to make a living, in the Law, a high percentage of our graduates have to seek their fortunes elsewhere, it is as well that they understand the importance of these differences. It also gives a different perspective on Law, to see how different aspects are treated elsewhere. Of course that doesn't apply to solely to Contract law, it also applies to Criminal law and Tort as well, but these are not my specialisms."

"I see, I understand that Scottish Law is based on Roman Law, is that so?"

"Yes, that's right, Craig, Scottish Law is a hybrid including elements of Roman, civil, common, feudal and canon law. In the 18th century Scottish law was influenced by Roman Catholic Canon Law because bishops and abbots were in government then."

"Mmm, I see, I didn't realize that we still held to the Papist standpoint, I don't think that's common knowledge."

"Still coming up here from your home in London, must be a bit of wrench, don't you miss your home and family, Laurie?"

"I have a suspicion Bren that that's a variant on the underlying subtext, why are you depriving native born lawyers of a job? But anyway, to answer your question directly, yes and no. I've been away from home for the last eight years, my father died when I was in second year at Oxford; it was a horrible shock, he was quite a young man, mid-fifties. But my mother's fairly self-sufficient, she works part-time as a hospital pharmacist and spends the rest of her time playing international bridge, she also has bridge columns in both the Times and Jewish Chronicle. I have two older cousins, who I rarely see, as they are religiously observant, and since I was about 14, I've left that behind. My parents weren't particularly orthodox either, but by uncles and cousins are very much more so."

"In what way aren't you religiously orthodox, Laurie?"

"The main claims that modern Judaism makes on its adherents, are attendance at synagogue, the more often, the better, and observance of the dietary laws, unqualified support for Zionism, observing the taboo against intermarriage and burial according to Jewish practise."

"So, you don't go to synagogue, you eat bacon, don't want to live in Israel and you're happy to date non-Jews, namely Louise, and no doubt a string of others."

"Yes, that is a crude summary of my standpoint, Craig, although most of the people I know and love are Jewish and I identify myself as a secular Jew and I'm not particularly keen on bacon, but will eat it, if there's nothing else on the menu."

"We all have our crosses to carry. We Scots pride ourselves on our tolerance, and your appointment in at the University, is an example of that. Still, we harbour hideous prejudices against Catholics and vice versa, and we have still residual primitive attitudes about women. Did you know this country holds the record for most burning of witches 3000-4000, whereas in England there were only about 100 or so witch burnings, although England had about five times greater population at the time than Scotland, making the ratio of witches burned per head of population about 100 to 1 Scotland v England. Mind, I'm not saying that England was a tolerant place, simply because they only burned 100 witches, but it's better than up here."

"That's very interesting Brenda, you've obviously researched the topic."

"Oh, aye, Scottish misogyny is a burden all we women have to carry, but especially professionals like me and Louise will be. Patronised and used when young and nubile, and despised and marginalised, when we grow older and are on the shelf."

"I've a feeling you may be exaggerating, Bren, Louise mentioned you are head of music at her old School."

"Yes, but I'm a professional musician too, a violinist and conductor, but there are very few jobs for women fiddlers and even fewer for women conductors, except for choirs and they pay a pittance, not enough to live on. Women are expected to be kept by their menfolk."

"I play violin and piano, without any ambition to do it professionally, although I'd like to play some chamber music, I used to belong to a string group that played various combinations of chamber music."

"Really, well I'm looking to form a chamber group, perhaps you'd like to play some music with us, Craig plays piano and Louise, the flute pretty well; she was impeccably taught at school, so we could find a bit of flute music to play. I'm sure there are chamber quartets with flute somewhere, I'll look them out."

"That would be great, I've an upright piano in my apartment, so I'd be happy to host you although I wouldn't want it to take too much time, as I'm very busy writing my book."

"I'm quite busy too with the University Orchestra at present. We're rehearsing the 'Pirates of Penzance' this Spring. So, if you want a flute, we'll have to postpone it till after May or June.

"Ok, we'll be in touch, it'd be nice to stay in touch won't it, Craig?"

"Definitely, I'll look forward to it. But meanwhile, do stay out of trouble, Louise."

When we caught the bus which took us to Glasgow's Westend, I asked Laurie if he'd like to come for lunch at home for the following Sunday. "My parents would be thrilled to meet someone from the University. Mum studied Law there, but never practised, she found that I was work enough, along with her tennis and interior design schtick with Aunt May. She makes a serious study of the aesthetics of interior design. Pretentiously unpretentious, in my view but she enjoys it and likes to talk about it to anyone who'll listen. So come about 1.00pm."