“Will that be enough?” his father asked keenly.

Colin didn’t count. “Looks like it.”

Roger took a deep breath and nodded. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, you already said.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Colin held up a palm for no more, which he then turned into a wave. His father also held up a hand to wave, but it looked more like a gesture of surrender.

Colin didn’t hang around. The station was only a few doors down, on a corner. Across the road was Wembley Walk, the storm-drain-like pathway that led all the way to Wembley Stadium and Wembley Arena. Colin went in and bought his travelcard from the black guy in spectacles behind the window. His father had given him more than enough.

The Metropolitan Line took him all the way to King’s Cross St Pancras. The train didn’t get very crowded. There weren’t many stops on this line and there was quite a distance between them, so it was also pretty fast. Colin was able to put his feet up on the seat opposite and leave his bag on the seat beside him. He drummed his fingers nervously on the armrest. He was really going to do this.

At King’s Cross, Colin took out his ticket and found his way to platform 2, where the 11.45 to Cambridge was waiting. He looked at his watch. It was 11.33.

Colin was in the smoking carriage. At least he hoped it was still the smoking carriage. They had a habit of reclassifying them at the last minute. The smoking carriage was carriage E. Having plenty of time, Colin walked along the platform instead of through the train. Most of the carriages were pretty full, but there were only a couple of people in carriage E.

Colin had a window and a table seat, facing backwards, which was how he liked it. As he walked through the carriage he saw somebody already sitting in the window seat at a table halfway along the carriage with their back to Colin. Fortunately when he reached then, he saw his was the table on the other side of the aisle.

The other guy looked over at him as Colin sat down. He was about Colin’s age and like Colin he was wearing an incongruous-looking suit that did not look at ease on his similarly average frame either.

Colin sat down and looked out the window, but he was looking straight through the window of the train at platform 1, and there was an old man staring back at him from the window seat on the other train.

Ten minutes later the train pulled out of the station. There was no turning back now.

After a woman came through to check tickets, Colin took out a cigarette and lit up. The guy on the other side of the aisle was having the same idea. He was also smoking Silk Cut. His lighter wasn’t working.

“Excuse me, mate?” he said, slipping into the aisle seat to be nearer to Colin. “Could I borrow a light?”

Colin smiled around the cigarette and held out his lighter. The guy lit his fag like he was lighting it in a wind. Then he gave the lighter back with a similar smile.

There were ashtrays built into the window ledges but it didn’t look like many people had used them for ash. There were several squashed butts in Colin’s ashtray but hardly any ash. Colin saw the other guy had moved back to the window seat to use his ashtray, so Colin used his too.

They finished their cigarettes around the same time.

Colin watched out of the window as the suburbs turned into countryside. London was trailing behind. Cambridge was hurtling toward them. For about five minutes Colin played with the end of his tie. The carriage was cold but his hands were sweating and the cool air breezing past made them colder. Across the aisle, the other guy was sitting with his fists on his knees under the table. He blew out his cheeks and sighed.

Colin lit another cigarette, which seemed to give the other guy ideas. He asked to borrow Colin’s lighter again. The next time Colin needed a distraction, he reached into his bag and pulled out the Cambridge prospectus instead.

He’d read the double spread about the applications process dozens of times. He’d read the column about interviews twice already that morning. It was general reassuring boilerplate. Don’t be nervous. If you’ve been invited for an interview then we’re already interested in your application. We want to get to know you better. There are no wrong answers.

The interview would last twenty to twenty-five minutes. That was as long as an episode of ‘Neighbours’. Colin couldn’t think of anything he could talk about for nearly half an hour. They would be asking questions and he wouldn’t have any answers.

“Excuse me?”

Colin looked over. The guy was sitting in the aisle seat at the other table again. He had his palm on an A4 book on the table. Colin recognised it immediately.

“I hope I’m not interrupting any deep, philosophical thoughts.” The guy smirked. “But I couldn’t help noticing you’ve also got one of these.” Then he gave his copy of the prospectus a pat.

Colin sat up and pushed hair out of his eyes.

“You got an interview today too?”

Colin nodded. “Yeah.”

The other guy laughed. “I suppose I should have guessed. You seemed nervous.”

Colin took a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess I am. I didn’t think I would be.”

“No. Neither did I.”

“What are you going for?”

The other guy gave him a sheepish look. “History of Art. I know, I know, hardly worth going to Cambridge for.”

“What? No. I’m going for H of A too.”

“Really?”

Colin smiled. “Yeah.”

“That’s a pretty big coincidence.” He held out his hand. “I’m Colin, by the way.”

Colin laughed. “Hi. So am I.”

The other Colin frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“My name’s Colin too.”

“Oh! I see.” The other Colin pushed hair out of his eyes. “Two Colins from London going to an interview for the same course. I hope they don’t think we’re the same person.”

Colin laughed. “That’d be embarrassing.”

“Yeah. Especially for the one of us who’s not meant to be there. God, I hope it’s not me.”

Colin looked at the other guy, who realised what he’d said.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. That came out wrong. I’m sure you’re every bit as suited to the course as I am.”

Colin shrugged. “To be honest, I’ve been having my doubts about that myself lately.”

The other Colin waved his hand dismissively. “We all have our doubts. It’s just damage limitation, though. We set ourselves up for failure so it doesn’t hurt as bad.”

Colin shrugged. “I guess so.”

The other Colin nodded. “Did you apply anywhere else?”

“Warwick, St Andrew’s, York and -”

“Royal Holloway?”

Colin frowned. “Yeah, actually. My back-up back-up.”

“Mine too.” He grinned. “Is Warwick your second choice?”

“Yeah. I already got an offer.”

“Same here. Have you heard from York yet?”

“No. Not even a confirmation they got my application.”

The other Colin nodded. “Yeah, same here.”

“Where did you apply, then?”

“The same places as you.” The other Colin have him a blank look, then added, “Though I suppose that’s not as freaky a coincidence, seeing as we’re both planning to do History of Art.”

Colin sniffed. “No. I guess not.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“What kind of things do you think they’re going to ask?” the other Colin said.

Colin puffed out his cheeks and shook his head. “I have no idea. That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Well, I did read that most will be about your favourite artists and art critics.”

Colin nodded.

“But then there’s some trick questions. They ask you a question you can’t possibly know the answer to. Of course you can’t say you don’t know, you just have to come up with something. They’re looking for someone who can think on their feet and be interesting. They also ask you for a joke.”

“A joke?” said Colin.

“Yeah. I’m going to say Victoria Beckham.”

Colin frowned. “Victoria Beckham what?”

“No, that’s it. They want a joke. She’s a joke.”

Colin sighed and took out another cigarette. He offered his lighter to the other Colin without a word. “I don’t know if I really want to do this.”

The other Colin blew out a large cloud of smoke. “Sure you do. You’ll never know if you could if you don’t try.”

Colin shook his head. “I’m only doing it for my parents. They never went to university, you see.”

“I thought you said you’d got an offer from Warwick.”

“Yeah. I have.”

“Well, then. You’re going to university no matter what. It’s not like they’re going to disown you if you don’t get into Cambridge. I think there’s part of you that wants this just for you, and all this doubting is just damage limitation. Like I said.”

Colin played with his cigarette. “Yeah. Of course there’s a bit of me that wants to go to Cambridge. I just don’t know if it’s because of the course or the prestige.”

“Aren’t those interlinked? I mean, you could do H of A at the London Met if it came down to that.”

Colin laughed. “Or not.”

“If you honestly didn’t want this, you wouldn’t be shitting yourself like this, mate.”

Colin smiled. “You’re right. You’re right.”

The other Colin smiled too. “Of course I am. Just like I’m right when I say you’re going to do fine, I’m going to do fine, we’re both going to ace this interview and get on the course. Who knows, in the second year we might even end up living together, the two Colins!”

They both laughed.

“Refreshments. Snacks,” a voice called.

Colin stopped laughing and looked round. A stewardess with a trolley was coming along the carriage.

“Think I might get a coffee,” said Colin.

“Yeah, me too,” said the other one, reaching into his bag, probably looking for his wallet.

“I’ll get these,” Colin said.

The other Colin looked up.

“I figure I owe you,” Colin told him.

“What for?”

Colin shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Refreshments. Snacks.” The woman reached them.

“Two coffees, please,” said Colin.

“£3.80 please.”

Colin gave her the last of his father’s change.

NOTES:
Potentially the oddest chapter in this entire story. It depends how you read it. Is the second Colin really there? Or is he just a manifestation of the part of Colin that has the desire and the confidence to get through the Cambridge interviewing process, challenging and ultimately defeating the part of Colin that wants to run away and hide? This vignette was directly inspired by this chapter I wrote years ago for a project I never finished. On the other hand, of course, you could just read it as a bizarre coincidence, Colin bumping into a guy he's got an unlikely number of things in common with.