The Quality of Love Read Online Free Page A

suitable.
    When the first day of the new term eventually arrived Sarah felt desperately nervous. She and her mother had walked up to Cathays Park on numerous occasions and had sat on one of the benches there, looking across to the other side of Museum Avenue and admiring the university building which was built from the same gleaming Portland stone as the nearby City Hall.
    The building was so impressive that Sarah found even the thought of walking through its doors daunting and it made her feel insignificant.
    When the actual day arrived, however, shewas so excited that her fears were momentarily quenched. She discovered that on the first day there would be no formal lectures. Instead, they were told where to find the various lecture rooms and were helped to familiarise themselves with the interior of the building so that they could find their way around.
    A third-year student was allocated to each small group of three or four newcomers. In charge of the group that Sarah was attached to was Gwyn Roberts. He was about twenty and fairly tall with very broad shoulders and dark brown hair and dark eyes. He seemed to be very sure of himself and slightly supercilious, but when he smiled, his friendly expression compensated for this. Nevertheless, Sarah felt shy of him because he seemed to be so purposeful.
    He appeared to be focussing his attention on her and walked alongside her most of the time as if he was anxious to make sure that she personally knew where everything was. He made a point of answering her questions in full while dismissing some of the queries from the others with a few brief words.
    By the end of the day she no longer felt a stranger in the vast complex and she also suspected that when Gwyn said he would watch out for her the following day, and that if there was anything she was uncertain about she had only to ask him, she had at least made one friend.
    When she’d been at school she’d been used to sitting in class along with thirty others and working to a strict timetable devised by the teacher in charge. Now she found that having selected the subjects she was taking she had to make her own decisions about which lectures she attended.
    She often found that the lecture hall was crowded and that boys far outnumbered the girls. It also came as a shock to find that it was left to her own discretion what she did in the way of making notes and preparing for the next lecture.
    One-to-one sessions with her tutor were at first terrifying because she was afraid he was going to criticise her for not doing as much preparation as he expected her to, or because she didn’t understand something and needed to ask him for a more detailed explanation.
    There was so much to learn, so much studying to be done in her own time, that Sarah found she barely noticed the fact that she saw little or nothing of Rita.
    â€˜I see you are starting to put your back into things,’ her father commented one Sunday when, instead of going to call for Rita and going for a walk as she usually did in the afternoon, she spread out her books on the dining table and sat there busily writing and checking things in her text books.
    â€˜She’s working far too hard, if you want my opinion.’ Lorna sighed as she handed him a cupof tea. ‘Every evening and every weekend she’s poring over those books. You’re only young once and she should be out enjoying herself.’
    â€˜There will be plenty of time for her to be doing that sort of thing when she’s finished her studies,’ Lloyd stated firmly as he took the cup from her and put it down on the little table she’d placed alongside his chair. ‘This is a wonderful opportunity for her; a chance to make something of herself.’
    â€˜Even so, all work and no play . . .’ Lorna interceded, then stopped and sighed and said no more.
    Sarah knew that in many ways her mother was right. She really was studying far too much; she had no time to