The first time she read to Odette, they had climbed out of the dorm windows onto the roof of their school, to smoke a handful of half-crushed cigarettes lifted from Leo’s case and drink from a purloined bottle of port. Odette had complained before that Cecilia asked so many questions that she didn’t get a chance to enjoy her smoke in peace, so this time Cecilia brought out a volume of Byron and gave Odette her favourite lines until she found herself reading the whole poem under the cold November stars, the two of them curled together for warmth in their winter coats and mufflers. What started as lips shyly coming together, sticky with stolen port, as though daring each other to be the first to blink, had become giddy, illicit, magic.
Cecilia puts down the book, draws Odette’s hands from her face to kiss her, at first lightly, goading, until they move in more earnest passion. Cecilia is greedy for the feeling of Odette against her, for each touch of her fingers, each press of her hot, slick skin. It is always like this, her mouth between Odette’s legs, trying to serve her. How can she serve her? What does she need? Cecilia feels like a solider with no captain to follow.
From somewhere over the water, the church bell tolls and Cecilia sits back, wiping her mouth clean. Odette lies flat and boneless, staring at the sky above as she regains a steady breath.
In this, at least, they still belong to each other.
6
Cecilia
CECILIA LOOKS AT HER TRUNKat the end of her bed and considers what it will look like in her room at Oxford. It is a mad thought. It is not much more than a month now until she will go, and it seems like a joke, a fabrication, as though she has made plans to visit the moon or breathe underwater.
The doctor is in with Aunt Lydia now, and Odette has spent the past half-hour pacing up and down Cecilia’s room, snapping when Cecilia makes any comment on it. Lydia will be well; Cecilia knows it. It is not possible that something so awful could happen to Odette, not now. Lydia will recover like Hippolytus being restored by Asclepius.
There comes the sound of voices and footsteps from downstairs, and Odette is out of the room like a shot, hanging over the banisters to watch the doctor and George descend the stairs in close conversation. Odette is hesitant now to talk to her father – she has explained to Cecilia how she has been berated for her perceived slights against Claudine. It is unjust. Cecilia wishes there was something she could do to wish away Claudine from their lives, but she cannot.
‘We had better speak downstairs,’ George says to Odette.
Odette reaches one hand back for Cecilia.
‘Yes, you too,’ George adds, looking at Cecilia, then behind her. ‘All of you. Claudine will stay with Lydia.’
Cecilia turns to see her mother peering from her doorway and Leo at the end of the hall.
George seems at first as though he will lead them to his study, but at the last moment he redirects them to the morning room. Odette and Cecilia sit together on a low couch, Penelope perches on a chair to the left with Leo stood behind her, smoking, and the doctor sits before them. George steps away, folding his hands behind his back and looking out at the meadows beyond the window.
Cecilia holds Odette’s hand tightly.
This will be fine. It will be fine.
The doctor explains the situation as he understands it so far, the treatments he has offered and Lydia’s response. He is a short, stocky man, with sandy hair thinning at the crown and large, blunt hands; but there is a softness around his eyes and mouth, and Cecilia can see why he must be well-respected in his field.
Then he comes to it.
‘It is my professional opinion that Mrs Fairfax-Waugh is suffering from severe and extensive peptic ulcers throughout her digestive tract,’ he says, as though speaking to them of the weather. ‘They have not healed with rest, and now they are affecting her body’s ability to take nourishment from her food. With her signs of fever, I fear they may have become infected. I can give no explicit prognosis, but I guard you all to make your peace and help Mrs Fairfax-Waugh face her passage from this life into the next with the grace and love of God.’
There is silence.
Penelope covers her mouth with her hand and lets out a small sob, genuine in its quietness. Leo puts his hand to her shoulder, though his own mouth trembles. Does he remember the news of their father’s death, Cecilia wonders? George stays at the window.
Cecilia squeezes Odette’s hand harder, looking at her out of the corner of her eye, but Odette seems hardly present.
Cecilia is aware of a great, deep howl lodged inside her that she cannot give voice to. It is not fair. Lydia is not her mother – her grief will be different – but,God, it is a wound ripped through the centre of her chest, and her very heart aches.
Eventually, George turns and dismisses the doctor with a handshake and a request for a full report to be sent to the physician in London.
George’s shirt has come untucked and pokes out between his waistcoat and trousers; the dishevelled display disgusts Cecilia. Lydia is dying, and he cannot ensure his shirt is properly tucked in?
There is a catch in his voice. ‘Lydia is sleeping now. I’ll leave you to your business,’ is all he manages before he turns and takes himself to his study.
To cry, Cecilia wonders – or not. She does not know if men cry or if it is a vulnerability they have wholly removed from themselves and allocated to women. How unfair on all involved. It would be inhuman to not let oneself cry, but she is not sure George allows himself to be human very often.
Penelope twists her fingers together. ‘Well, we had best see about packing, girls. We shall take the train to London tomorrow, where the doctors will be far better. He was a very pleasant man – I will allow that – but surely a London doctor will know what to do. Don’t think about it at all, Odette.’ It is the first time Penelope has directed her words specifically at Odette. ‘Don’t give it any thought. We’ll find a better doctor.’
Cecilia’s mother hovers for a moment, as though coming near Odette will bring some of her misfortune upon herself, but then she seems to decide it is worth the risk and pats her arm before leaving.
Leo stops before Odette, eyes red.
