Part Eleven
Henry
However repeatedly Henry swallowed, he couldn’t dislodge the lump from his throat, and the more the guy went on about the shitty astronomy funding in the UK, the worse it got.
Viola nudged him, and he realized she’d been listening. ‘Halley’s coming to write up, not pledging her soul never to go back to America.’
Henry tried to summon a smile. ‘I know.’
‘So what’s upset you?’ Viola hissed. ‘Dreading passing the bad news on?’
He shot his sister a look. ‘Oh come on. She already knows.’ Halley would have to be naive in the extreme to have missed the basics of the astronomy job market, and Halley was far from naive. ‘I wish she’d felt she could tell me how slim her chances are of being able to stay.’
‘She obviously didn’t want you getting all wounded like this, and telling her not to sacrifice any career opportunities for you. But she’s not pursuing a job over here for you , is she? She’s doing it for herself , because she’s in love with you, and wants to be with you.’
Viola made it sound reasonable, but it didn’t feel that way. Not when Halley was the one making all the sacrifices — not just the job thing, but moving over to write up, and falling out with her best friend in the process. But he thanked Viola and made an effort to be visibly more present, as he silently formulated a plan.
When dinner was over, everyone at high table was ushered upstairs to the SCR for port, and Henry sidestepped Viola and Aron to engage Rupert.
‘I wondered whether you might do me a favour, while you’re in America?’
* * *
Thursday, 9 January
From: Halley A. Hart
Subject: HNY!
To: Henry Inglis
Happy new year! Did you talk to your Halley about my scambaiting podcast? You said you’d come back to me about it in January!
Halley-Anne
* * *
Friday, 10 January
Halley
‘Hi Junior.’
‘Anything up, Mom?’ Halley jabbed her phone screen to switch it to speaker, then placed it on the table. ‘I’ve just got to the observatory.’
‘Only checking in,’ Mom said, too casually.
Halley squinted into the telescope lens, then back at her phone. ‘You don’t do that without an ulterior motive, though. Not when you know I’m busy.’
‘I want to find out how you’re doing, that’s all.’
Halley didn’t buy that for a moment. Mom hadn’t been blessed with subtlety as a character trait — a condition that was perhaps catching, since it was shared by a lot of Chicagoans. But it was hard to dent Mom’s self-confidence, so playing along might be the best way to figure out what was up.
‘I’m as good as I can be. Between collecting the final data and writing my presentation for the symposium, I’m not getting much sleep.’ She purposely didn’t mention Henry. If Mom wanted to pry into her relationship, she’d have to be direct.
‘Do you have plans for selling your car — I could ask at the hospital if anyone’s after one for their teenager?’
Halley drew back from the telescope, content with its positioning, then connected her laptop and enabled the start sequence for her algorithm. ‘Cool. I’d appreciate that.’ When it booted up, she clicked the programme that took the astro-photographs she needed.
‘Oh,’ Mom said, sounding slightly disquieted. ‘Good. And what’s your timeline on job applications?’
‘The process is so laborious that it’s generally OK to start applying during the final semester of writing up. I’ll prepare my résumé as soon as I’ve got time, ready to submit whenever suitable vacancies arise.’ Silently, she predicted Mom’s next question.
‘Out of interest, what constitutes suitable?’
Halley had been correct, but she felt no triumph. Mom had made so many sacrifices to raise her, it was natural she’d become upset when it sank in that her only child was planning a future on another continent. ‘Post-doctoral fellowships,’ she said carefully, ‘at universities as close as possible to Oxford. They’re thin on the ground, and of course I can’t stay in the UK long-term without a visa, so at some point I may have to start applying back here too.’
Mom let out a whoosh of breath.
‘Mom? I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to be close to you. I’ll be back to visit so often, I promise. And you can come stay with me! And then long-term, like long long-term, I’m sure coming back here will be an option, but Henry’s tied into his fellowship for three more years so—’
‘Halley Hart,’ Mom snapped. ‘You don’t need to persuade me of why you should pursue your chosen career path in any location that you see fit. I’m not pining for you to stay in America — though I’ll hold you to your promise to make me welcome whenever I visit you. However long I may choose to stay.’
Halley reassessed rapidly. ‘Well played, Mom. But what’s with the questioning then? I know it seems crazy to head for a country with more light pollution and less funding. But like I said, it’s not long long-term. And... well,’ she said, with more defiance, ‘You like to claim that you got Henry and me together. I’ve fallen for him now... it’s either be close to him, or be miserable.’
‘You don’t have to justify your life choices to me, Junior. Or — not professional and romantic choices. I retain the right to stage an intervention if you—’
Halley chimed in, saying in time with her mother: ‘Buy a motorcycle or join a cult.’
‘Mom,’ she added. ‘If you’re good with me job hunting in Europe, then what is it you actually want right now?’
‘I got a vague idea,’ Mom said, ‘That the plan might have changed. That’s all.’
Halley frowned. ‘Changed in what way? And where did you get this idea from?’
Mom was silent. ‘I can’t tell you how I know,’ she said. ‘But I promise I’m not in touch with Henry. And you shouldn’t tell him that you know — you’ll have to find a subtler way of handling it.’
‘God help me, Mom — you’re gossiping directly with Viola now? You need to quit that before there’s some crazy miscommunication that messes everything up.’
‘Listen,’ Mom hissed. ‘Henry asked his boss to look out for jobs he could apply for in America.’
‘Bullshit,’ Halley ground out. ‘He’d have told me.’
‘I assumed so. But, it seems, he hasn’t. Presumably he thinks you’d talk him out of it?’
‘I would. It’s crazy — he loves Oxford! And he just found these amazing old letters which could be a major deal. And most of all, his parents are elderly, and need a lot of support right now.’
‘All good reasons he shouldn’t be leaving Oxford. So what are you going to do about it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Halley said on a sigh. ‘But I’m on it.’
‘Remember, though — you have to be subtle!’
‘I can do subtle!’
‘While, I remember,’ Mom added. ‘I’d already booked another wellness retreat for that week you’re in town for the symposium, and I haven’t been able to move it.’
Halley frowned. ‘I won’t see you before I fly to England?’
‘Sorry, kid. But as we’ve established, I’ll be visiting regularly. I could come for your birthday?’
That was the week Henry had scored off work. ‘I’ll... still be settling in. Later in February would be better.’ She ended the call and put her hands on her hips, breathing heavily. It wasn’t even dawn in the UK; Henry would be fast asleep. So, she’d finish her work, catch a couple hours sleep in the morning, and figure out a subtle approach after that.
* * *
Saturday, 11 January
Text messages between Halley and Henry:
Henry, what the hell were you thinking???
Sorry — what was I thinking about what, sweetheart?
Don’t play dumb. You know what you did.
This isn’t about bloody Gabrielle again is it? I took Julian a bottle of whisky, to thank him for driving you to the airport, and literally saw her in passing. That’s all. I didn’t even stop and say hello, since she was so rude to you.
Oh. Good job. On the whisky and ignoring, I mean. But it’s not that. Think again.
Has Halley-Anne contacted you about the podcast? If she said I promised anything, she’s exaggerating. I agreed to think about it so she didn’t unilaterally go reading out my email.
Isn’t that the Australian? You said she was a trainee detective, not a podcaster. And no, she hasn’t contacted me.
I’m scouring my conscience, but not coming up with much else.
Your conscience doesn’t recall your attempts to leave Oxford for a job at an American university?
Ah. That. ‘Attempts’ is too strong. It’s an exploration of whether any suitable jobs are upcoming, after it came to my attention that there wouldn’t be many enticing options for you over here.
But why wouldn’t you talk to me first? I had to hear via Mom, who got it from Viola. I’ve had a hunch since Christmas that they’re talking behind our back, and I’m sure of it now. But you can’t tell Viola we know, because I promised to be subtle.
I didn’t even realize Viola overheard. It was just a spur of the moment enquiry, when I was feeling guilty at everything you’re giving up.
That’s so stupid. I need you here so I can be mad at you. Really, really mad.
Would the phone do? I’m in the library but I’ll finish the letter I’m on, then call you on the way home.
No, it’s not the same. But make it a video chat, and then OK.
You have time?
Yeah, no stargazing for three days — full moon.
Then it’s a date!
Jeez, Henry, no it’s not! It’s an appointment for you to get a ticking off. 4 P.M. your time, and don’t be tardy.
Sorry. Yes. 4 P.M., for a bollocking.
Remember not to say anything to Viola! (By the way, if I had you here I wouldn’t JUST be mad at you). (But I would be mad at you FIRST.)
* * *
Henry
As he left the library, Henry turned up his collar and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. It wasn’t much above zero, and windy with it. On a whim, he headed around the quad towards the rear of the college. He’d be hard-pressed to make it back to the boat by four, so he’d leave through the lesser-used back gate, and call Halley from the pub on the corner.
Ruth bustled past, but she was engaged in conversation with the organ scholar so for once didn’t stop him to declare emphatically how much she liked Halley, as if he needed heavy hints not to let her slip through his fingers. He returned her wave, and ducked through to the narrow passage, where he almost collided with a couple of students heaving something along between them.
‘Sorry,’ he said, halting. It was his freshers, Dexter and Olivia, and his vague concern about them having had to stay in residence throughout Christmas flooded back. Now he’d promised Rupert to keep an eye on the undergraduate historians, he had a duty to follow it up. ‘Hello, you two. How was your break?’
They stared at him, then each other, and then down at the obstacle they were carrying. It was a large wicker hamper, which their strain suggested was exceedingly heavy.
‘Do you need some help?’
‘No,’ Olivia said. ‘It’s fine. We’re just... going to Port Meadow for a picnic.’
Henry blinked. ‘In this weather? You’ll freeze.’
‘We’ve got thermals on,’ she said.
‘Exactly,’ Dexter added.
‘Hmm.’ Henry opened the back gate, and held it for them as they followed with their burden.
‘We’ve got it,’ Olivia said, panting.
‘It’s fine,’ Henry said, retaining his grip on the icy wrought-iron. He couldn’t believe it was only food in the basket, and considered what they could be feeling guilty about, before twigging. ‘Is that a whole keg of beer?’
Their eyes snapped to his. ‘We’re going to a party,’ Olivia said.
‘Well, be careful,’ Henry said, making sure the gate closed behind them. There was no more he could reasonably say — they were adults, after all. He watched for a moment as they lumbered down the street, then swung away to stride for the pub, where a blast of warmth welcomed him. It was half-empty, as he’d hoped, being too early for the Saturday night peak.
He requested the excellent craft beer on tap, paid and settled at an alcove table in the furthest corner from the bar. He gulped a mouthful of beer, set up his laptop and inserted his ear buds, then commenced the video call.
Halley was on a bench, in the sunshine, glowering at him. ‘I don’t get where this came from, all of a sudden,’ she said immediately. ‘We had a plan — have a plan I thought we were both excited for. Don’t you want me to move over?’
‘You know I do.’ He laid both hands flat on the table. ‘Please come, as planned?’
Her mouth seemed a smidgen less severe. ‘What about your job thing?’
‘You’re making the first sacrifice — the second should be mine.’
Halley made a scoffing sound. ‘Not-perfectly-optimal job application conditions isn’t a—’
‘Plus, Angelie being furious with you. And is your mother upset, too? Something must have motivated her and Viola to discuss it like that.’
‘Mom’s fine with me moving. And she’ll tell Viola that you’ve changed your mind, so she stops panicking.’
‘All I’ve done at this point is ask Rupert to let me know, while he’s visiting US history departments, if there’s anything coming up that could suit me. The answer might well be no. I don’t have a big enough publication record for anyone to want me, yet.’
‘Because that’s the whole point of early career fellowships — time to publish, to build up an academic résumé. When it ends, you’ll be competitive for junior professorships. Right now, you’d get another post-doctoral role at best , and have potential employers wonder, for the rest of your career, why you hadn’t been able to hack it at Oxford.’
‘That’s putting it a bit strongly,’ he protested. It was, but really only a bit.
Her chin jerked. ‘Leaving those Sedgwick letters for someone else to work on would kill you. And I don’t believe you’d really be prepared to move thousands of miles from your parents right now.’
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘As usual. I... missed the wood for the trees, when I heard how tough the astronomy job market is. I know I can’t leave. But picture it, Halley. We’re on the cusp of half a year together. We’re so... in sync already, I can only imagine how entwined we’ll be by then: we’ll be desperate to stay together.’
Her gaze was fierce. ‘I refuse to believe we can’t figure it out. But not with you jacking-in Oxford. I refuse to accept that sacrifice.’
‘I don’t want to be sacrificed to, either,’ he said, much more gently than he felt. ‘And if you can’t find a good job on this side of the pond—’
‘Then we’ll find a compromise, instead.’ She smiled at last. When he smiled back, he was even granted a flash of dimples. ‘The first step is my visiting studentship. But I’m only coming if you tell Rupert you were having a mad moment, and actually intend to see out your contract in Oxford.’
‘Fair enough. I’ll contact him, I promise.’ He drank more lager, and her large eyes narrowed, though she was still smiling.
‘Do you deserve beer, during a bollocking ?’
‘It’s a longstanding British tradition!’
She laughed, and stretched out her neck. ‘Thank God I get to sleep this weekend. And next week I’ve only got two more nights collecting data. It’s the end of an era. Oh — how was the library?’
‘I finished a few more letters, including one to Miss Mallory in which Lawrence described the sunset and said he would love to show it to her, if only she could somehow be beside him.’
Halley gave a wan sigh. ‘If I could suddenly somehow be beside you, what would you want us to do?’ She lowered her voice. ‘Clearly, not anything dirty — we’re both in public.’
Wishing he didn’t feel his face heat whenever she surprised him with a comment like that, Henry tried to focus on the question. ‘I’d have to think. Would you be here for the evening?’
‘You’d want to do something that lasts longer? Then sure.’ She spread her arms expansively. ‘And there’s no budgetary constraints, but we have to obey the laws of the universe — no magical abilities.’
‘Then I’d want to stargaze with you. Somewhere really dark, like you love.’
‘Snap! Maybe we could fly to Antarctica? It’s late-summer there now, so that’s possible, with a very experienced pilot.’
He leaned back in his seat. ‘Tell me what we’d get up to.’
‘It’s mainly radio telescopes down there, so I’d teach you to use one, to see into deep space. Antarctica’s amazing for that. It’s the only place on the planet with a great view of the southern hole — this patch of clean sky, without many stars.’
‘That’s why the Antarctic’s perfect for astronomy?’
‘Partly. It’s also the geographic conditions. It’s a huge landmass — literally a polar desert — so it doesn’t have disruptive weather patterns. And it’s at a really high altitude, which means it’s dry. Dark, cold and dry is pretty much stargazing perfection. So yeah, we could go there. Unless you have a better idea?’
‘I do. Because if you’re already beside me, I don’t want us getting anywhere near another bloody aeroplane ― they have it in for us. So how about we stargaze in the darkest sky site in mainland UK?’
‘Somewhere in Scotland, right?’ Halley ventured. ‘Northerly, with minimal light pollution...’
Henry opened a new window, and typed the query. ‘The Cairngorms,’ he confirmed, as it flashed onto his screen. ‘Our largest national park.’
‘That would work. We could take binoculars — you can see a lot of the night sky through a decent pair.’ Her gaze shifted to one side, as she found the website. ‘This park looks great. Will we take a train?’
‘I’ll borrow Viola’s car.’ She owed him one, after all. God knows why she’d taken it on herself to eavesdrop on his conversation with Rupert, let alone snitch to Halley’s mother. ‘And I’m choosing us somewhere to stay...’ He scrolled through options. Hotel or B&B, or... secluded cabins. He clicked on the latter, and found one with not only an open fire, but a hot tub outside on the decking, and beside it, something even more perfect. ‘What do you think of this? Link coming through.’
‘It’s even more romantic than the Blue Moon. And—’ Her eyes shone suddenly. ‘There’s a telescope on the deck — I love it! Ugh, I wish I was beside you, and we could go right now.’
‘It’s only sixteen days, sweetheart. We’ll make it.’
* * *
Sunday, 12 January
From: Henry Inglis
Subject: Update on career trajectory
To: Rupert Peters
Dear Rupert,
I hope you’ve had a good flight?
I spoke too hastily on the job situation. I’m happy at Oxford and don’t intend to seek a new position, so please don’t bother making any enquiries on my behalf.
Best, Henry
* * *
Monday, 13 January
From: Rupert Peters
Subject: Update on career trajectory
To: Henry Inglis
Pleased to hear it!
Rupert
* * *
From: Henry Inglis
Subject: 14 days . . .
To: Halley Hart
Dear Halley,
I’ve informed Rupert that I’m happy at Oxford, as promised.
Miss Mallory must have let Lawrence know that she’s told her father they’re corresponding, because he’s bidding her send his compliments to her mama and papa. And he’s using a new valediction to close his letters to her — see below!
Only fourteen days until you arrive, and I think tomorrow’s your last at the telescope? Any chance you’ve got time for a date, soon after?
I have the pleasure to remain your ever-loving and devoted beau , Henry xxx
* * *
Tuesday, 14 January
From: Halley Hart
Subject: 13 days . . .
To: Henry Inglis
Good Evening, Devoted Beau,
I’m seeing my advisor tomorrow morning, for him to sign-off on my new data — or insist I collect a little more. Don’t panic though — worst case scenario I’d have to miss the symposium, but it shouldn’t delay the visiting studentship. Let’s have a date right after — 8 p.m. your time, to celebrate/commiserate?
And I think there’ll be something else to celebrate, stemming from a major breakthrough with Angelie! She’s written on the refrigerator that she’s heard about a potential new roommate, and he’s coming to see the apartment later. I hadn’t dared even raise the idea of someone taking over my lease, but not having to make rent here would go a long way to alleviating my biggest problem — being broke in England.
Love, your Halley
* * *
Halley
‘Need for now,’ Halley muttered, dropping the pile of underwear back in the drawer. ‘Storage...’ She threw her swimwear into a cardboard box labelled CHICAGO . ‘And England.’ She added Henry’s sweater to her crammed suitcase.
Then she reconsidered the bathing suits. Southampton was a port city so there must be beaches nearby. But in February, in the Atlantic... she shuddered at how cold it would be. No, with space at a premium she needed to prioritize winter clothing — and skimpy sparkling things.
The doorbell rang and she rushed through to the hallway.
The guy on the other side of the door had the good fortune of being tall and exceptionally handsome. He’d enhanced this accident of genetics with a great haircut, white teeth and buff muscles, and Halley beamed.
‘Would you mind taking your shoes off? The apartment’s fantastic and Angelie’s the best roommate ever. I’m only leaving to be with my boyfriend in Britain.’
He bent to remove his shoes without complaint, as Angelie exited her bedroom. She glanced at her prospective roommate, and squeaked.
‘Come through and tell us about yourself, and then she’ll show you around the place,’ Halley said, pointing the way into the living room.
As he headed in, Angelie mouthed, ‘Oh my God. He’s like, exactly my type.’
Halley murmured something noncommittal — if she looked too enthusiastic, Angelie might find something to dislike about him just for the fun of it. Better to be cautious until she’d ascertained whether he studied something that would be helpful to one of Angelie’s start-ups. The chances of that were pretty high, between the sheer variety of her fledgling businesses and the STEM specialisms of the majority of Stanford students.
In the living room, he stood in his socked feet in the centre of their cream rug, his shoulders back and spine straight, as though he was caught in a spotlight on stage. ‘I’m Dan Elfman,’ he said, enunciating every syllable. ‘I’m twenty-three years old and in my second year in the graduate programme of the Theatre and Performance Studies department.’
Halley intervened quickly. ‘People are so much more than just their subject, don’t you think, Dan? What are your hobbies and interests?’
‘Well, I founded a new ensemble last quarter, and we’ve got our first recital next week.’
‘What kind of music?’ Angelie asked.
A terrible suspicion dawned on Halley. ‘Does it matter if you share a taste in music, though?’
Angelie rounded on her. ‘I’ve heard you state that every roommate you’ve ever had has listened to great music — whether they like it or not.’
‘I can’t help having excellent taste in music,’ Halley shot back. ‘If I didn’t, I’d wear headphones. Like Dan will, if you don’t like Dan’s. Right, Dan?’
Their heads swivelled toward him in tandem. ‘Sure,’ he said, with the utmost confidence. ‘Except when I’m practising piano.’
Halley pressed her fingers to her temples, and Angelie breathed so heavily her nostrils flared. Dan seemed oblivious to the appalled silence, as he smiled between the two of them.
‘Piano,’ Angelie repeated.
‘I’m happy to have it in my bedroom — that’s more convenient when I get up early to practise. Though — don’t worry — not too early! I sing as I play, so I wait until about seven, after my cup of hot water with lemon.’ He smiled again. ‘This is fun! What else can I tell you about myself? My vocal part is tenor and my range is up to A4. Anything else you can think of?’
Angelie looked at Halley. ‘What else can we think of, Halley?’ Never had a question sounded so much like a threat.
‘I’ve got nothing,’ Halley said, sinking lower into the couch.
‘But I do,’ Angelie said. ‘I don’t think we’ve established what genres of music it is that you play and sing, Dan?’
‘ And I dance,’ he said. ‘Tap, and jazz.’ He splayed his hands and shook them. ‘Jazz hands ,’ he warbled. Angelie snatched up a cushion and smashed her face into it. ‘But I mainly sing show tunes. Musicals are my passion.’
* * *
Wednesday, 15 January
Henry
‘An actor sounds ideal, though,’ Henry said, planting his elbows on his office desk. The only illumination came from his laptop screen, as the overhead light bulb had blown as he switched it on. ‘He’d be great at covering for her, when she gets herself in a pickle with all those start-ups she cheats on.’
‘Henry, he’s literally specializing in the development of musical theatre,’ Halley said. ‘And Angelie hates musicals. And jazz hands, which she finds creepy almost to the point of a phobia.’
Henry scratched his jaw, wondering if it would be too unsympathetic to enquire into the logistics of a phobia of jazz hands. Was it any deliberate movement of raised hands, or only when accompanied by a musical performance? ‘Is she aware of anyone else actively looking for a place, instead?’
‘Not yet,’ Halley said, heaving out a sigh. ‘But we’re telling Dan no, anyway. I mean, I don’t mind musical theatre, but I wouldn’t want to live with him either. Though maybe that was the puns. At the end he started singing “Piano Man ” , but with the words changed to Piano Dan . Angelie had sprinted to her bathroom and locked the door by that stage, so I interrupted to inform him she was sick. Then he pouted and went, “ Don’t you want to listen to the rest of the song? It’s my danthem! Get it? My anthem because I’m Dan! ” Henry,’ she added darkly. ‘Are you laughing ?’
‘No,’ Henry said, working harder than he ever had to maintain a straight face, as he pictured Dan, singing at two blisteringly clever, and utterly unimpressed, women. ‘It’s bad luck — I know you’re worried about money.’
She slumped on her sofa. ‘I shouldn’t have gone on about that. Don’t freak out about sacrifices again! The main cause was giving up my TA role, and that was to get PhDone this year, and nothing to do with our relationship.’
All the hours she’d spent corresponding with him, back in the autumn, couldn’t have helped that situation, but he didn’t say so, instead leading them into smoother waters. ‘I’m so chuffed to hear your advisor’s pleased with your data.’
Halley’s mouth turned up a little at the edges. ‘ Chuffed . And yeah, Professor Tung’s approval means a lot. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask about Halley-Anne. What was the podcast thing?’
He grimaced, explaining briefly about the scambaiting podcast, and her plan to have one of them as a guest — or to read out the email he’d sent to every Halley Hart in the world. ‘She hadn’t thought through that while she could change my name, yours would be obvious, given it’s the same as hers.’
Halley’s expression was more contemplative than concerned. ‘I mean, she could have gone ahead and featured the email without asking permission. It’s nice of her to check. And she was trying to help you find me, right? We kinda owe her one.’
‘You want us to go on her podcast ?’
‘Not especially, but we could consider it, so give her my number?’
‘Halley, she’s suggesting I do a snappy turn on the history of romance scams ,’ he spluttered.
‘I won’t commit you to anything, I promise,’ Halley said, when she’d stopped laughing.
Henry wanted to protest, but he wasn’t even sure why it bothered him so much, and his attention was suddenly seized by something in the darkness beyond his dormer window. A bird, heading for the glass, or no, he thought, rising. They were pale shoes, scrabbling to find purchase, below denim-clad legs. An instant later the idiot had gone, but he’d distinctly seen him or her scramble to one side — so they hadn’t fallen, at least.
‘Sorry, sweetheart — duty calls,’ he said, pushing his feet into his trainers. ‘The climber’s at it again, and made it onto the roof. I’ll call you back in half an hour!’
Without waiting for a reply, he opened the window, held onto the frame, and leaped out.