"Where the hell have you been", said Iffey Leek in not altogether ladylike tones, that nevertheless strangely stirred Pat Holmes as she sauntered up the corridor of her Oxford college, still wearing the rather tatty gym slip, that she wore for cricket, and carrying the bag that held her precious bat (a gift from her father) and her very second hand pads.

She wondered if Iffey had been waiting for her. Perhaps Iffey had just opened the door at that moment.

"Well" said Iffey, with the air of a schoolmistress who cannot keep discipline.

Pat almost told her to mind her own business, but then could not resist it.

"I got a hundred", she said.

More than one person in later years was to insist to Pat Holmes that they had been there and seen her score a hundred and thirteen not out, out of a little under a hundred and thirty for the women of the South of England against the Midlands, and win an un-winnable match. And yet the crowd that day was very small, so how many of those that claimed they saw that century, really did was rather dubious. And yet a surprising number always claimed they remembered that over, when with the score at seventeen for eight, Pat lost her temper. The truth was she did hit the off spinner, who had destroyed her team mates, for two sixes and a four off three successive balls. Yet it was amazing how many people thought she had scored a six off each ball. Possibly the simple fact women were not supposed to hit cricket balls like that (anymore, Pat used to reflect in later life,  than women were supposed to be any good at administering corporal punishment) that led to the legend.

However at the time all that Iffey Leek could say was "Oh God, you haven't been playing cricket again. No wonder you never get any dates!"

This was not, Pat reflected, all that different from her Mother.

When Pat had phoned, straight after the match, eager to tell her Father, who was however out, all her Mother could say was "I'm sure you must have done well dear, but I never really understand these things. We never played cricket in my day."

Pat felt a tear coming into her eye.

"I don't know how you have the nerve to take time off from swotting, with Finals only two days off."

Pat started to say something to the effect that Mathematicians need to keep their heads clear, and swotting does not help.

But before she could say a word Iffey was off again.

"Hilda's on the warpath. Yes, really dear. She wants you to see her! Pronto!  She's been up here half a dozen times - most unlike her - and she looks like thunder. I should get some blotting paper down your knickers dear. And don't change. Just go! I don't know what you've done, but you're really for it."