In spite of all the worries racing through Paul’s brain at that moment, he would at least have no problem identifying his target.
Princess Caroline was probably the most famous and most photographed woman in the world. A liberalising Act of Parliament had put her in a truly unique position. The line of succession was henceforth only determined by age, not the sex. She was hence the first female in a thousand years to have become heir to the British throne in preference to a younger brother, Prince Richard. She had been pictured in almost every newspaper and magazine he had ever seen. Interest had only grown since she suddenly withdrew from public life 2 years ago, seemingly for a period of mental recuperation. Nothing was more guaranteed to ignite a hundred wild internet theories. Most significantly the Vice Chancellor himself was going to bring her over to him at some point in the proceedings.
The University Great Hall was vibrating with excitement. Packed in were about 150 people- mainly hysterical physics undergraduates, excited physics postgraduates and even slightly agitated physics lecturers. None of them could wait for the event to finish and ring their families. You will never guess in a million years who came to see us this afternoon, wasn’t she beautiful. No, she did not talk to me, but she brushed right past me. In addition to all these academics there were a number of hastily created banners welcoming their illustrious and totally unexpected guest, plus a bit of complex-looking equipment with control pads and flashing lights that was meant to help explain the magnitude of the recent discovery.
Paul could not have felt more anxious, or more exposed. As the only non-physicist there he was known by no-one. The fact that he was not talking to anyone else there was also leading to some second glances. He was, however desperate not to get into conversation with anyone. If they were still standing close by when the Princess was brought over, the whole operation would fall apart. His only strategy was to keep wandering about, as if looking for someone who had promised to meet him there, but had yet to appear.
He had thought through last evening what his response would be if anyone did question who he was, and how he had managed to get in. There was no way, of course that he could show them the pass given to him by the Vice Chancellor. He had considered saying that he was a member of the press. That however inevitably would raise the question of which publication. Naming any would be fatal. There is nothing worse to stir up a long conversation on their political leanings....................................................