‘Frightfully sorry, chaps,’ I called out as I stepped into the lecture hall, quickly taking off my jacket and laying it over the back of my chair at the front of the class. The din of talking students died down slightly, then more and more as I swivelled my attention onto the classroom. ‘Got caught in a bit of car trouble. I do apologise.’
‘Are you alright, Professor,’ asked a bright-eyed girl in the front row.
‘Oh, yes, quite,’ I smiled reassuringly at her, pretending not to notice how much she blushed. ‘It wasn’t an accident or anything truly serious – just some misbehaving parts. I’ve already contacted my fellow, who I dare say may be the best auto electrician Cambridge has to offer!’
‘Which part was it, sir?’ came a voice from the very back of the classroom. I was about to dismiss the subject when I looked to see who had spoken – a young man I barely recognised, which, after nearly three months, meant he was a student I was likely having difficulty reaching.
‘You know, I’m rather not sure,’ I smiled up at him, determined not to waste this opportunity for outreach. ‘I turned the ignition, and it simply – didn’t start!’
I threw my hands up in a universal what to do? gesture.
Go on, dear fellow, I thought, looking up at him.
‘Sounds like it might have been a battery problem,’ he said, brow furrowing. ‘Potentially a spark plug, but hard to know without looking.’
Eureka! I thought.
‘Sir?’ the girl in the front frowned. I realised with a start that I’d accidentally exclaimed out loud.
‘My apologies, Ms. Ferryweather,’ I smiled. (The swoon was harder to ignore this time.) ‘But I do believe our friend up the back may have it. Tell me, sir, do you intend on becoming a local mechanic for the Cambridge area. Servicing cars, and the like?’
‘My dad’s the mechanic, sir,’ the boy replied. ‘I just used to watch while he tinkered.
‘And what a remarkable visual memory you must possess,’ I grinned, and watched him dip his head ruefully.
‘Well, then!’ I proclaimed, looking around at the rest of my class. ‘To your lesson!’