‘Ah, I see,’ he responded softly, running his little finger along the rim of the glass. ‘And where is she now?’
Good question. Glancing at my watch, I realised it had been more than an hour since I’d left the party.
‘With the reason she wanted to come in the first place, Isuppose.’ Ashton’s name was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it. There were a lot of people downstairs, but Icouldn’t be sure the two of them weren’t friends. ‘The guy who looks like a Michelangelo statue come to life,’ I said instead, deliberately vague.
He frowned, as if something I’d said had surprised him. Or displeased him. ‘So you were invited.’
‘How else do you think we got past the guy at the door? Convoluted scientific names for animals aren’t part of my standard vocabulary.’
‘I thought you had a knack for getting into places that are technically off-limits to you, Pica.’ Despite the restlessness in the shallows of his eyes, this time I was sure I saw a smile on his elegantly curving lips.
‘Pica?’ I replied, baffled.
He didn’t respond, merely sipped his whisky and eyed me thoughtfully.
Reluctantly, I went on. ‘I mean… yeah, I am. But this isn’t an event I’d attend by choice. I didn’t last two minutes down there.’
The smile was wiped abruptly from his lips. ‘What happened?’
‘Yourfriends.’ I shrugged casually, although the memory brought back a surge of fury. ‘It’s the principle, you know? I don’t like being referred to as a “contribution”, or treated like something you’d win at poker.’ It was meant to sound sarcastic, but I could feel my bottom lip quiver.
We were silent. My anger pulsed between us–I could see the waves of it lapping against his face. His expression twisted into a faint grimace, as though the emotion had crawled beneath the skin. ‘I’m really sorry about that. I’d like to tell you they didn’t mean it that way, but?—’
‘But you’re not a good liar either?’
‘I’m an excellent liar. I just prefer not to,’ he corrected me flatly. It didn’t seem like he was proud of it–more like it was a fact he simply couldn’t deny. Something about it made me smile.
I looked again at my watch. It was time to go. Partly because I didn’t want to leave Zoe alone any longer, but also because I didn’t like how comfortable I was getting. This conversation was going to be a one-time thing, and the more intense it got, the longer it would take to put it behind me. I didn’t have time for distractions–I needed to focus every glimmer of attention on my studies.
‘I should go.’ I snatched my hairpin off the desk with a determined gesture and turned towards the door, but something stopped me in my tracks, and I looked back at him again. ‘What’s your name, by the way?’
‘Cliff.’ The word was barely out of his mouth before he clamped his mouth so tightly shut that I saw the muscles in his jaw go rigid. He wouldn’t meet my eye, frowning as though annoyed.
I gave a terse nod and strode over to the door, although everything about the room was tempting me to stay. It was absurd, but leaving it knowing I’d never see it again, felt deeply, painfully wrong. It was like I’d forgotten something. Something my mind didn’t remember but my emotions did. It was almost literally blocking my path, and I had to force myself to keep moving. ‘Well, I hope you have a lovely evening, Cliff.’
‘Wait.’ His voice held me back. When I turned again he was standing beside the armchair, his hands buried in his pockets, his enigmatic gaze fixed on me. ‘You didn’t tell me your name.’
I tucked the slightly bent pin back into my hair. ‘What’s the point? You’re better off forgetting all about this conversation, anyway. A name without a face means nothing, right?’
He shook his head earnestly, taking a step towards me. ‘I don’t see it that way at all.’ The glow from the corridor fell in a slender oblong across his face, illuminating the deep brown of his eyes.
For one long moment I stared at him, felt myself committing him to memory. A snapshot of a snapshot of a human being, someone I knew I would remember much longer than I cared to admit. Then I turned and opened the door wide. ‘Don’t forget to lock up when you leave. You never know what kind of riffraff might be prowling the halls.’
As I walked off down the passageway, I thought I heard him laughing softly.
Chapter2
Mabel
The rain turned the colleges to silver, studding the paving stones with little puddles that cast back the midday sun. Tiny flecks of light on dark stone, the glitter of them dazzling.
It had rained solidly throughout the last seminar, but as soon as we left the building, it stopped. A few last drops trickled down onto our heads as Zoe and I set off towards Trinity College. I did my best to avoid the puddles, whereas Zoe tramped straight through them. Her suede boots were already soaking wet, but she didn’t seem to notice. For the last hour or two she’d barely said a word, gazing out through the window of the teaching room, the rain mirrored in her glassy eyes.
Although I sometimes found it hard to listen to her constant chatter, I missed it now. A silent Zoe was unsettling. ‘Everything all right?’ I asked her for the umpteenth time–the last being a good ten minutes ago, as we were queuing up at Nero’s to buy lunch for ourselves and Davie. I’d had to repeat myself more than once to get an answer. Now, when she didn’t react, I poked her in the ribs.
She jumped and gazed at me, startled. ‘What?’
I stared at her with concern. Her eyes seemed duller than usual–the blue washed out–and not even the concealer she applied each morning could hide the exhausted coffee-coloured rings beneath them. ‘Everything all right?’ I asked again.
