Chapter 7

There was something to be said for having a good sense of direction. Elizabeth had lived in Oxford for a few months, and she felt she knew all the little corners and alleys of the city. She had decided it was one of her absolute favourite cities. “It’s just the right size – small enough that you can know and explore all of it easily, but complex and rich enough that every nook and cranny holds something worthy of a second look” Elizabeth told herself as she strolled down her favourite lane, intent on a Caramel Shortbread and tea for a study break. She was so intent, in fact, that she almost missed the call from down another side street: “Elizabeth! ELIZABETH! ELIZABETH HANOVER!” She finally heard her name and turned. Browning, her friendly graduate student sometimes-friend, was walking quickly towards her with a pretty redhead trotting to keep up.

“Hi there!” “Hi, Elizabeth! Whew – I thought we were going to have to make a run for you!” The redhead shot him a look that implied “I was running!”

Elizabeth gave them both a genuine smile, “It’s great to see you Browning, it seems like it’s been awhile since we’ve had coffee.” “Yes, it has! Oh, Elizabeth, this is my good friend, Meg, she’s also a graduate student, but she’s doing her thesis on the ever important topic of Latin Grammar.” Browning explained to Elizabeth with a wink. Meg gave him a sharp jab to the ribs. “Cheeky Monkey!” Elizabeth grinned, Meg was definitely British. “Hi Meg, I’m Elizabeth.”

“It’s great to meet you Elizabeth, I’ve heard a lot about you from Browning. I like meeting Canadians, you have a calming effect.” Meg’s compliment was slightly confusing to Elizabeth, but she didn’t let it faze her. Browning inserted, “So, where you off to, Elizabeth, caught up in your own little world and all!”

“I was on my way to the Tuck Shop for a Caramel Shortbread and Tea, where are you off to?”

“We’re going to the Turf” said Browning, and Meg quickly added: “Would you like to join us? We’d love the company of a Canadian.” Although Elizabeth preferred to be desired for her own company and not because of her nationality, she had missed talking with Browning, and she had felt that Meg would make a great friend as soon as they met. “I think that sounds like the perfect study break!” Elizabeth declared, changing her path to follow them to the pub.

The Turf was one of Elizabeth’s favourite pubs, mostly because they had a wonderful tomato soup and cheese bun dinner that was both affordable and very enjoyable. But of course the Turf was enjoyable on its own merits, the history of the pub was legendary, and the string of notable undergrads who had sat at these tables made Elizabeth always feel a mixture of importance of being on equal footing as them, along with a feeling of inadequacy, for what she often felt was an underused or just normal-sized intelligence. Comparing herself to other students was always something of a downer; there were so many brilliant graduate students she ran into, that she had little hope of making much of a name for herself in the Oxford world of academia. Fortunately, being famous was not her goal. So she settled back into the uncomfortable wooded bench at the Turf, put her back against the stone wall, and focused intensely on living in the moment. “You’re out with Browning and Meg, focus on that” Elizabeth reminded herself “your work, and the larger questions of life in general can wait.” Her speech work, she soon found herself laughing at Browning’s odd British humour and enjoying learning more about why on earth Meg choose Latin grammar for a thesis topic. Elizabeth’s quick study break had turned into a conversation that stretched long into the night, and she never made it back to the library that night.

“Is eating chocolate ever a valid answer to a problem?” Elizabeth pondered the depths of the issue as she continued to tear open and consume the small truffles at a truly alarming rate. “Well, for today, I say it’s okay.” She knew the chocolate wasn’t the solution to the problem, she just used it to calm her nerves so that she could think better. There was a minor hurdle she had to cross to reach the glory-lands of progress on her thesis. The last few months had been a whirlwind of reading, researching, talking and exploring. She had felt overwhelmed at the depth of the richness of knowledge to be gleaned at Oxford. Everything was exciting and new, and she had felt that the possibilities for her thesis were boundless. Now, she felt like her thesis had turned into a collection of bubbles, popping as they hit the ground. She herself felt like she had been running like the wind, only to discover she had run like the wind right into a brick wall. “Alas” she thought to herself, “this is the end of my academic dream, I will go back to Canada a failure, an Oxford University dropout, all because I hit a wall.” Her consumption of chocolate was increasing in proportion to her negative self-talk. She realized, after tearing open the wrapping on the last chocolate, and noticing she had eaten the whole box, that she needed some help. Not that anyone could take the place of chocolate, but someone to give her a little pep talk and make her realize that the world did not revolve around her thesis. “Maybe I’ll take a walk in to see Abby.”

The weather in England appeared to moving in the direction from winter to spring, but Elizabeth had been warned that you never could be sure about these things, and it was best to maintain a pessimistic attitude until proven wrong for at least two weeks in a row. She, however, found the lightness of the evening air a sure sign that spring was coming, which made her excited. It seemed the perfect evening to walk into town – there was even a scrap of daylight left in the sky, “the days are getting longer!” she thought to herself. She grabbed her camera and some money and went down the long path into town.

It was the quietest night Elizabeth could remember since coming to Charlbury. Not a single car passed her on the street as she walked on the road into town. Someone later told her that it was the football league finals, which was why she happened to be the only living creature stirring that evening, but in the moment, she only enjoyed the stillness. Some sheep were standing by the fence as she walked through the field, and Elizabeth stopped to greet them. Something she said must have offended them, because after a moment, they ran off to another part of the hill to find better company. Elizabeth watched them go, and then turned towards the Western sky. The brilliance of the sunset nearly took her breath away. She had the perfect view, at the crest of the hill, looking down on the village of Charlbury in the valley below, and the rolling hills of the Cotswolds beyond. It had been a beautiful vista in the bleak, sterile winter; but in this blossoming period everything seemed to be awash with vibrant color. The sunset only added to the radiance of the view. Elizabeth considered taking a picture, but thought better of it. There are some things that will never truly be captured on film, and are best left to memories imaginative eye.

All to soon, the set finished it’s performance of setting, and Elizabeth realized she was getting a rather cold and damp bottom from the grass she had sat down on to watch the scene. She hurried on to reach the main street before the sky finished turning from gray to black.

She was glad to see the Florist shop still filled with light. Abby was working at the desk in the back, and looked up with a smile as Elizabeth opened the door and the small bell hanging above it tinkled.

“Ah, dear Elizabeth, it has been a long time since you have come to see me. But I suppose that’s a good thing – you’re getting lots done on your thesis?”

“Actually, no, Abby, that’s the problem. I’m having one of those ‘Life is awful’ days, and my thesis has turned into an ugly ogre ready to eat me.”

“Well at least you’re not being overdramatic about it.” Abby replied, turning back to add the last lily to the centerpiece she was constructing. “It’s all about perspective, you know.”

Abby’s non-chalance was not having the calming effect Elizabeth was looking for. Instead, it was making her feel that she indeed would never finish her thesis but she should have the right perspective that she was not a complete and utter failure, only a partial one. She decided to be more proactive in her search for encouragement; she had walked all the way into town, after all. “But, Abby, don’t you think that this is just a stage all doctoral students go through, I mean the feeling that it’s all meaningless and will never be done? It will get better, right?” Elizabeth threw her plea for help out into the sea, waiting for a friendly ship to pass by, pull her in and save her from her sea of despair. No such luck. The ‘Abby’ ship passed right on by. “Well, I don’t know dear, I’ve never been a doctoral student. It depends how good your topic is I suppose.” With one sentence, Abby officially crushed any light Elizabeth had left. She now felt a bit resentful – she had walked all the way in to town to see Abby for some much needed encouragement, and instead she got knocked even further down. Bah-Humbug. Perhaps chocolate was a better answer. She said a quick, and not very earnest, goodbye to the still distracted Abby, and headed down the street. She went into the Co-Op food store, to replenish her supply, she had eaten the last box of chocolate she had, and she knew more would be needed for the evening. As she started to fill her basket with a wide variety of enjoyable and truly fattening Cadbury and Lindor chocolates, she heard the bell above the door jingle. She looked down the aisle to see Barrett walk in.

He walked right towards Elizabeth: “Hello there” he said cheerily, looking briefly in her basket with a hint of surprise, but the wisdom to keep quiet.

“Hi Barrett, how are you.” She had trouble mustering the energy to sound happy, which he picked up on. “Well, a good bit better than you, it sounds like – what’s the matter, your dog die?” She smiled, “nope, just have a bit of writer’s block for my thesis and I’ve gotten a bit depressed about the whole thing.” Barrett looked skeptical, “The writer’s block ‘whole thing’, the thesis ‘whole thing’, or the life ‘whole thing’?” Elizabeth tried to subtly hold her basket behind her, “Mostly, the thesis, although the other two aren’t looking so bright either.”

There was a slight pause, and Elizabeth was afraid that yet another ship would pass by without offering aid. But, luckily for Elizabeth, Barrett was a bit more aware than Abby had been, and was quite willing to throw out some help, “Well – it sounds like you need an official ‘cheer-up’ – how does a little dessert and coffee at the Bear sound?” Elizabeth’s first thought was that “the Bear”, the local inn, had very delicious, if expensive desserts that she would quite enjoy, and her second thought was that this might be a form of a date. Both thoughts led her to reply to Barrett’s offer: “Heavenly, you don’t have any other plans?” He shrugged, “Nope, its 8 pm on a Tuesday night, not a lot going on.” “Oh, I suppose you’re right” Elizabeth replied as she followed Barrett out of the Co-Op store, leaving her basket of chocolate behind her.