Chapter 35
Opal only left her room once the whole of Sunday, and it was to scurry down to the kitchen for a slice of butter-slathered toast around midday. The house was eerily quiet, as though compensating for the merriment of the night before.
On second thoughts Opal wasn’t sure merriment was the right word; it would be more accurate to describe the night as eventful.
She hadn’t been this hungover in a long time.
The ache behind her eyeballs was blurring her vision, and her stomach responded temperamentally even to the glasses of water she tentatively consumed.
On her way back upstairs she paused momentarily outside Noah’s bedroom, the butterflies distracting her for a second from the nausea.
She imagined pushing the door open to find him sound asleep.
Maybe she would slip off her velvet dressing gown and cup her body around his so delicately that he wouldn’t wake.
She would watch his eyes flutter through his dreams as her own dragged her under.
When she heard the creak of a floorboard from the other side of the door, though, she scampered to her own door, softly closing it behind her and catching her galloping breath as she leant against it.
She ran her fingertips over her lips and tried to remember exactly what his had felt like, but the alcohol had already dulled the memory into fragments.
His eyes widening, his hands on hers, the cool of his hair, as though he had been brushed, along with the grass, with morning dew.
If she concentrated she could remember that he smelled faintly of peppermint, but the feel of him – that she couldn’t quite grasp.
And there was another troubling hole in her memory: who exactly it had been that had pulled away, not outside at the table, but when they were back in the house?
Opal recalled walking up the stairs, their hands coyly reaching for one another, and then the quick retracting at the first sound of approach or attention.
They had lingered outside her bedroom, and Opal had been able to hear her heart in her ears then too, at the thought of undressing him, of finally laying herself on that bare chest she’d thought about so often.
But then, again, things got hazy. They’d been pulled apart by the sudden presence of Heather, who had looked as alarmed to find them lurking in the hallway as they were to be discovered there.
She hadn’t asked any questions, though; instead she seemed in a rush to be somewhere, or maybe to not be somewhere.
By the time they were alone again, something had shifted and somehow Opal was left with a kiss on the cheek and a longing unfulfilled.
Opal was nervous about seeing Noah again, but as the group took their seats at the breakfast table in the orangery, under the brilliant July sunshine, he smiled at her, not betraying a hint of shame or regret, and took his usual seat to her left.
She smiled back and hoped that the burning in her cheeks was not as visible as it felt.
‘Morning, everyone, I hope you’ve all recovered from the party.’ Opal looked around and was slightly unnerved by the universal lack of reaction. Ruby and Heather stared straight ahead, whilst Adam fiddled with his napkin. Johan was glaring across the table at Noah.
‘It was a rad do. Thanks, Opal.’ On second glance, maybe Noah’s reaction too was off. His smile had grown wider but less convincing, and his enthusiasm was lacklustre.
Johan scoffed. Opal had hoped not to have to acknowledge the ‘infiltration affair’, but Johan seemingly wasn’t going to let that happen.
‘I know that there was a heated exchange within the group on Saturday, and I’d just like to make it a matter of record that Noah has explained everything to me and in light of his significant and obvious talent I have decided to let him continue to take part in the tournament.
’ Opal spoke quickly, eager to move on and avoid questions.
Johan raised his hand, as though mocking her teacherly address. ‘But, miss, isn’t that less fair on the rest of us, now that there’s more … illegitimate competition for the prize fund?’
Opal was struck by how different Johan sounded, although she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what had changed.
‘What the fuck do you need the prize fund for anyway, posh boy?’ Opal was taken aback by the venom in Heather’s voice. It seemed she’d lost control of her class.
‘Heather’s right. In light of Johan’s … breeding, shouldn’t he be excluded from the prize fund?’ Ruby jumped in. Opal was confused, by the insinuation but also by the dirty look that Heather then shot Ruby. It seemed much more had transpired at the gala than she was aware of.
Opal looked at Johan, who shrugged. ‘If you must know,’ he began, his voice so nakedly aristocratic now that it sounded almost put on, ‘my father and I are not exactly … on good terms at the moment, so I’ve been cut off.’
‘That’s exactly it, though, for the moment. In the end it’ll all end up in your inheritance fund.’ Heather turned to Johan now, visibly angry.
‘The way some people talk these days, you can never be sure that the taxman won’t come and dress you down …’ Johan’s voice too was raised.
‘Oh of course, God fucking forbid anyone should deprive the poor little rich boy from the entirety of his unearned generational wealth …’ Ruby began before being cut off.
‘You know what, I don’t actually need you to fight my battle.’ Now Heather turned to Ruby. ‘And you two stop with this little show you’re always putting on, because everyone can hear you shagging every night, so there’s no need to pretend anymore.’
Ruby looked stunned. It was the first time Opal had seen her speechless.
‘Can everyone please calm down.’ Opal was surprised by her own sternness, but it had the desired effect.
The room hushed, and all five pairs of eyes were on her.
‘The decision to invite you here was not lightly taken, and I took a lot of time to deliberate on who would qualify.’ It wasn’t true at all really, but Opal felt she needed to reassert some authority.
‘Everyone in this room is here for a reason and I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t take it upon yourself to question my judgement. ’
Everyone nodded solemnly.
Everyone, apart from Johan of course, who smirked. ‘The dyke only wants me gone because she wants Ruby for herself,’ he muttered.
Heather threw back her chair and stormed out of the room. Ruby glared at Johan, and Noah and Adam barely reacted.
Opal felt deflated. No one had even touched their food.
‘I’ll catch up with Heather later, but for the rest of you, I’ve gathered you here to mark the beginning of the second round, and as you know the theme is death.
I understand that it might be challenging for some of you, so know that I am always around to be a listening ear if any of you need someone to talk to …
’ She hadn’t finished talking, but they had all begun to stand already.
She was getting that distinct feeling again of being the substitute who never really stood a chance with the class in the first place.
Opal hoped that maybe Noah would hang back. She hadn’t decided what she would say to him, but she felt that if they could be alone, she might be inspired. He didn’t. Instead it was Adam who hovered by the door until the others had left.
He had been even quieter than usual at the table, and Opal wondered if he simply wanted to add his two pence without the crowd. ‘Are you OK, Adam?’
He seemed hesitant, and for a moment she thought he might change his mind and walk out the room.
When he turned his dark eyes on her, his face was grave.
‘I’m sure this is a sensitive subject but I wanted to let you know that I saw Martin last night, engaged in …
’ Adam raised his eyebrow and paused long enough for Opal to understand what was coming next ‘… relations with a much younger woman.’ Adam’s stare was piercing, and Opal got the sense that he was studying her for a reaction.
‘I understand. I’m sorry you had to see that. Thank you for … bringing it to light.’ Adam’s emphasis on ‘much younger’ stung a little, but of course, Opal was not surprised by the information he was relaying.
Adam frowned ever so slightly, as though he had expected a different answer, perhaps something more laden: shock, anger or upset.
After a moment of silence, Adam nodded curtly and left, unsatisfied, perhaps, by her response but unwilling to pry further.
Towards her husband, Opal felt only cool disdain.
How classless of him to let himself be caught, and not for the first time.
It occurred to Opal that there might be some part of him that wanted to get caught.
That he was so cowardly about the whole affair that he secretly hoped his own sloppiness would get him off the hook of ever having to come clean on his own terms.
But Opal didn’t feel sorry for herself much anymore.
After her conversation with Debbie, this new revelation only made her sad for her friend, and by extension for Agnes.
In the whirlwind of her evening, the dizzying kiss with Noah had overtaken her falling-out with Debbie as the object of her hungover fixations.
Now she began again to feel the weight of her ruptured friendship.
For the rest of the day Opal obsessed over whether she should call Debbie or drop by. She was consumed with indecision as she helped Hetty clear away breakfast. She pondered as she went for her morning swim; she agonised as she set up her easel for an afternoon of sketching.
But as the light faded, and the telephone remained unused, as she changed into her pyjamas and settled in front of the small television set gathering dust in the corner of her bedroom, Opal faced up to the truth of the matter.
In some ways she was just as cowardly as her husband.
She didn’t have the courage to face Debbie because she had no real excuse for her deceit.