Chapter 5 #3
I stopped beside him and crossed my arms. ‘Oh, yeah? How come? Do you bribe the porters? Or do you donate so much money to the university that they let you do whatever the hell you want?’ I paused, but Blake didn’t react.
‘Where do you know the others from? You’re not doing the same course, are you?
’ As far as I knew, Ashton was studying economics.
Not necessarily a subject where you were likely to cross paths with a philosophy student.
Although I couldn’t be sure if that’s what ‘Blake’ actually was.
‘You ask a lot of questions.’ Although he wasn’t looking at me, I thought I saw a flicker of something at the corner of his mouth.
‘Yeah, well I’ve got more where that came from.
’ I observed him closely. His cheeks were pale in the wan light, almost bluish, and the scar on his temple shimmered silver.
The jumper he was wearing was dark and hid his collarbone.
I got the impulse to yank it down. ‘For example … do you have one too?’
‘One what?’
‘A tattoo.’
He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, evidently reluctant to answer. So I persisted. ‘What’s the point of these parties you throw? Why can’t you just get hammered down the pub like normal students?’
My last word was drowned out by a low bass note, as Blake depressed a key. I jumped and tried my question again, but he just kept playing. Pretty much exactly where he’d broken off.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t hold back a deep surge of awe.
It wasn’t just the acoustic in the chapel – it was his face.
It was the look he wore of utter devotion.
It was … beautiful. He was beautiful. The minute the thought crossed my mind, I wanted to run.
Instead, I arranged my face into an expression of indifference and waited for him to lift his hands from the keys.
‘That’s not half as impressive as you think. ’
This time the grin was unmistakeable. ‘Oh no?’
‘No.’ I hesitated, then sat down on the edge of the bench and turned to look directly at him.
I saw the way his body tensed, but I had no intention of pulling back.
A negative reaction to me was still a reaction.
‘I mean, an organ is basically just a giant piano. Even if it does have the biggest range of any instrument.’
He shifted along the bench until he was at the other end. ‘So you’re an expert on organs too, are you?’
‘I told you – I read a lot. And don’t forget: unlike you, Blake, I’m not a good liar.
’ The name came out of my mouth so acerbically that I wasn’t surprised to see him frown.
He turned away, his face mirrored in the gleaming pipes of the organ: pale skin, dark eyes, the expression in them darker still.
I kept talking, unable to stop myself. ‘Will you at least answer me one question? Why didn’t you just tell me your real name?
’ My voice didn’t sound as combative as it was supposed to.
Even I had to admit what I was really feeling – what I’d been reluctant to acknowledge ever since I saw Blake and his friends that afternoon in Great Court: I was hurt.
The muscles worked in his jaw, then he shrugged.
‘If I remember correctly, you didn’t give me any name at all.
So you’ve got no reason to be upset. You really shouldn’t let me get under your skin like that.
Either way, I’ll forget you after tonight as quickly as I did the last time.
Neither your name nor your face mean anything – you said so yourself, didn’t you? ’
‘I … you’re not under my skin,’ I stammered, taken aback, while my face – my meaningless face – began to redden.
‘No? Then why are you always trailing around after me?’
‘I’m not…’ Furious, I clenched my fists. ‘Is that what you think? That I’m desperate for your company because of a ten-minute conversation and one moment of breathtaking rudeness?’
‘I have no idea what you’re desperate for.
All I can tell you is that you’re looking in the wrong place.
I’m not interested.’ He paused and turned to face me.
My heart leapt as his eyes locked with mine.
His mouth opened, but as I watched, he paused.
For two or three long seconds I gazed at his lips, which were quivering almost imperceptibly.
Then he cleared his throat. ‘At all,’ he added hoarsely.
His words were at odds with the way he was looking at me. Too alert, too intent, too … interested. No matter what Blake claimed, at that moment I knew he wasn’t quite as good a liar as he thought. ‘Don’t bother.’
He blinked. ‘What?’
‘You don’t need to try and chase me off. I’m only here because Zoe is. And because I don’t want to leave her alone with’—a group of potentially dangerous people—‘you lot. So if you want to get rid of me, make it so she doesn’t have a reason to stay.’
Blake was staring into space again. ‘I don’t need to do anything. It’ll wear off all by itself. Ashton tends to lose interest in his “girlfriends” pretty quickly.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ I muttered, rubbing my arms to ward off a sudden chill. ‘What about you? This is the second evening I’ve spent with your friends, and yet again you’ve ditched them.’
‘I could say the same to you. If you’re here to look after your friend, then why are you with me and not with her?’
Point to Blake. My cheeks grew hot again, and I hated myself for it.
Because I want answers, a part of me thought.
But you’ve stopped asking questions, another part of me shot back with a sneer.
‘I prefer nocturnal churchgoing to a swimming lesson that’s practically guaranteed to give you pneumonia,’ I replied hesitantly, tucking my fingers under my thighs.
As I did so my hand brushed his, and I felt a tingle race up my arm.
I saw the hairs rise on his skin as well.
Instantly, he jerked away and got to his feet. ‘Pneumonia would be the least of your problems.’
‘Wait, what—’ I began, but he was already gone. Without stopping to think, I stood up and followed.
I caught up with him as he reached the middle of the nave, between the rows of pews in the broken moonlight. ‘You can’t just drop a hint like that then cut and run!’
He sighed but didn’t stop. ‘I was hoping it might make you cut and run.’
In two strides I was level with him, eyes glinting.
‘I’m not afraid of you.’ It was strange how true that was, even though Davie’s words were still echoing at the back of my mind.
Ashton gave me a bad feeling, but with Blake what I felt was more like restlessness.
At its core, it wasn’t fear. It was more like …
curiosity. Maybe he was right: he had got under my skin.
His behaviour was so odd that I was determined to know what was behind it.
Why was it so contradictory? Why the brooding stare, the melancholy expression, the general air of gloom?
Blake’s mouth twisted. ‘You’re exhausting, you know that?’
‘If I’m getting on your nerves, why don’t you leave?’
‘I’m trying.’
I planted myself in front of him. ‘No you’re not. You can leave the chapel at any time. And you were drawing a lot of attention to yourself for somebody who wants to fly under the radar.’
He looked at me, visibly grudging. His lashes cast shadows on his skin. His eyes seemed brighter than usual in the blue light of the window, the scar on his temple somehow darker. ‘What are you implying?’
‘Victor said he’s been told to stay away from me. Who told him that?’
My heart was thudding so hard I was afraid he could hear it. For a few long seconds we were silent, staring hard into each other’s eyes – before Blake lowered his gaze. I felt it on my freckles, although in the dark they must have been less obvious than usual. ‘It wasn’t me.’
At his words I felt a dull pang of disappointment in my chest. ‘No?’
‘No.’ He hesitated and took half a step towards me, dropping his voice. It grew softer, more fragile, almost – like he was conceding something, lowering the mask he’d been clutching so fiercely, just a fraction. ‘But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t advise you to keep your distance from him.’
‘Why?’
Blake’s body radiated a palpable warmth, but as he stepped in, I felt a chill. ‘We’re not good people, Mabel. I thought that would be obvious. Or have you forgotten how they treated you at the party?’
I barely registered his last words. My attention had snagged on a different one. One that – for the first time that night – brought a genuine smile to my lips. ‘Don’t tell me you remember my meaningless little name.’
It was a gentle jab, and it coaxed Blake’s mask even lower. Just enough to reveal a faint but very genuine grin underneath. ‘Hmm. And I was perfectly content to call you Pica.’
He put his head to one side, as if expecting me to pounce on the clue. But I had no intention of it: I liked puzzles, and I especially liked solving them without help.
Biting my lip, I swept past him. ‘You fit right in here. From a distance, the chapel looks almost perfect. But when you look more closely, you find all these tiny flaws. Shoddy workmanship and carvings, bits of the foundation missing.’
‘Then let this be a reminder that you should never judge a book by its cover.’
‘What do you mean?’ I turned back to face him.