It had been a gamble to jump into a taxi at Cambridge station with not a penny to his name, but by that point he felt that the gods were somehow on his side. He’d gotten this far; how much of a stretch would it be to assume that Opal would offer to pay the cab fare once he was already standing on her doorstep?
And she had done, without question; though Noah had been ready with some hammed-up tale about getting his wallet stolen at King’s Cross.
So here he was, sleeping, or at least trying to, in the manor. He’d made it. Now all he had to do was win, and then he could finally move out of his parents’ place, and get himself a studio in London. He’d actually getinvitedto all the parties, instead of having to blag his way in and then stand in the corner and hope he could make small talk with enough of the guests to look like he actually knew someone there.
A light knock at the door made Noah sit up. That was the problem with always ending up in places that you weren’t technically invited to; it was hard not to feel constantly on edge.
‘Hello?’ Noah called out warily.
The crack of light from the hallway widened and revealed Opal standing in the doorway. She was wearing a sage green silk kimono. Noah could make out the outline of her breast. She leant against the frame and crossed her arms, but not before he spotted her nipples hardened under the fine fabric.
‘I just wanted to check if … you had settled in OK?’ Opal sounded unsure of herself.
‘Yes, fine thank you.’ It felt strange speaking in the dark so Noah leant over to turn on the bedside lamp. Now, though, he was aware that his bare chest was on show. It was his turn to cross his arms protectively.
‘I’m sorry to bother you. I hope you weren’t asleep.’ Opal’s hair was wound into curlers, but one rebellious strand tumbled down the nape of her neck and onto her collarbone. Noah wondered what it would smell like to rest his face there.
‘I wasn’t, don’t worry; I was just thinking about what a beautiful home you have.’ It was true, but Noah was also on the charm offensive. At some point it was bound to become obvious that Gareth had not invited him. Maybe Johan would remember him? Although his assumption that men like Johan did not notice men like Noah had been proved right so far.
‘Thank you, Noah, it’s kind of you to say. Most of it is to my mother’s taste rather than my own.’
‘Oh I’m sorry. Has your mother passed?’
‘Oh no! No! She’s just taken against this sort of life. She lives in Marrakech most of the year, doing God knows what …’ Opal trailed off, as though suddenly becoming aware that she was saying too much.
‘What’s not to like about this life!?’ Noah was genuinely perplexed.
Opal sighed heavily. ‘You’d be surprised …’ Opal looked straight at him, and he saw a kind of sorrow that startled him. ‘Houses like this, old houses, generational homes, they carry history in their walls, the good times, but also the bad times. There’s no such thing as writing your own story in a place like this, only trying not to repeat the worst mistakes of the past.’
Noah had no idea what to say. He thought about his own past, and how much the generations of his family had longed for the kind of belonging that Opal thought of as oppressive. If he could have been honest he would have told her that her feelings were that of a person who’d never had to face the prospect of being thrown out of their home. ‘You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.’ But this was not a scenario that called for honesty, especially not from him.
‘Well maybe this tournament will be a different kind of chapter at least.’ It was a corny thing to say, but Opal smiled.
‘I hope so, but anyway, I’ll let you get to sleep. Sweet dreams.’ Opal didn’t wait for a response before closing the door. Noah wondered if she had gone around to anyone else’s room to wish them ‘sweet dreams’.
He was inexperienced when it came to women and sex, a mixture of his odd and at times obsessive personality and his mother’s overbearingness. Or at least that’s what he suspected. Women had found him attractive, and he’d slept with his neighbour, Priyanka, a couple of times, but he’d often find himself thinking about other things during ‘the act’.
Now he found himself lifting the covers and considering his hard-on; maybe the spell binding wasn’t only a one-way thing.
Chapter 17
Now that Opal was standing in front of them all, she was losing her nerve. They had all had breakfast in the orangery and it was time to commence the tournament.
Opal’s hands were shaking slightly; she put it down partly to tiredness.
Opal had sat in bed reading and waiting for Heather’s delayed arrival for a couple of hours before she’d headed down to the kitchen, to kill time away from the lure of sleep. She should have just gone straight down, instead of giving in to the temptation to knock on Noah’s door. She worried now that she’d embarrassed herself.
When the knock on the front door came, it was past midnight and Heather looked thoroughly pissed off. Her flame-red curls protested out of a severely fashioned quiff. She was wearing a pair of denim dungarees and looked every inch the ‘take-no-shit butch lesbian’ that Gareth had described.
‘That journey was an absolute fucking nightmare,’ were the first words out of Heather’s mouth, delivered in a droll Glaswegian accent.
She had several heavy cases with her and the pair struggled to get them up the stairs between them.
Eventually Opal persuaded Heather to leave some in the hall overnight.
‘There better not be any of my shit missing in the morning.’
Opal assured Heather it would not be and coaxed her to her room. Afterwards when Opal was halfway down the corridor heading to bed herself, it occurred to her that Heather was probably starving. But by the time she turned back and checked inside the bedroom, Heather was already snoring lightly, though still fully clothed on top of the covers.
