Chapter 7
Cliff
I examined the goosebumps on the ribbon of skin visible underneath my jacket sleeve. There was a time when I couldn’t remember what it felt like to be cold, but over the last few months, I had forgotten what it felt like not to be.
I quelled the shiver that was building up in my muscles.
It was nearly ten p.m., and Trinity Hall lay deserted around me.
The red-brick building towering before me in the night-blue sky was garlanded with magnolia, the leaves gradually turning brown.
Lights were on in many of the student rooms, while others were already dark.
A fine, evening mist hung above the lawn where I stood.
My attention kept being drawn to the second floor, to a window where the curtains were drawn.
The light within shone through the pale grey fabric, and I glimpsed a silhouette that moved occasionally across the room.
I hated myself for every second I stared up at it.
I hated myself for holding my breath the minute I saw her.
I hated myself for my racing heart when I forced myself to look away.
What am I doing here? I’d been asking myself that question ever since I’d left my flat an hour earlier.
Unlike Ashton and most of our friends, I’d deliberately chosen not to live on college grounds.
It was one thing to sit through a few hours of lectures but quite another to feel like my every move was being watched.
Not just by the students, but also – and lately, especially – by Ashton.
To the extent that I could, or was allowed to, I avoided him.
So it made even less sense that I’d called him several times tonight and got through to his voicemail every single time.
Or that I’d left the flat as soon as I realised what that meant.
So: why did I do it?
Once again, my eyes went to the second floor.
She was sitting down again, presumably at a desk.
I could see her outline through the curtains, just on the other side of the window: back stooped, hand reaching forward every now and then, the blue light of a laptop mingled with the gold of the reading lamp.
I knew it was her room. Victor had given me her room number after Norah and I took him back to his staircase last night.
Why so rough? he’d asked me as I shoved him unceremoniously through the doorway. His pupils had been large as pennies, his body much too hot. I was a good boy. She’s all yours.
I’d said nothing. For one thing, Norah was standing right behind me, and for another, Victor wasn’t in any fit state to listen. Norah was right: he’d overdone it. Again.
The mere memory of the flicker pulsing off him made my chest tingle unpleasantly.
I pressed my hand to my sternum and focused again on the window where she was sitting.
Although I couldn’t see her clearly, I recognised her.
It was mad, but I’d had the same thought yesterday when I heard her footsteps in the chapel.
I’d known her instinctively just by her tread.
There was no wariness to her movements, no uncertainty or fear.
None in her voice or expression. Only that mute defiance and apparently indestructible resolve.
I wanted to believe it hadn’t impressed me.
I wanted to believe this wasn’t about her.
That I hadn’t walked for half an hour on her account, without even knowing why I was coming here.
That I hadn’t fled the bridge last night on her account.
That I hadn’t gone into the chapel and sat down at the organ on her account – knowing she could find me if she chose.
That I hadn’t simultaneously feared and hoped she would.
Part of me insisted it was fine. I knew what would have happened if she’d stayed with the others, and I didn’t like it. Compassion wasn’t a sign of weakness. Another part of me, however, knew it was more than that. I hadn’t just wanted her to stay away from the others: I’d wanted her to come to me.
I despised myself for thinking it – I felt ashamed, disgusted with myself.
Hurriedly I shifted my focus to something more bearable: seeing her wasn’t an option, so I had to make sure it never happened again.
And since she’d told me yesterday that she lived on the same staircase as her best friend, that meant I had to talk to Ashton.
Just as I was about to try his number again, a door opened.
Ashton’s hair gleamed in the lamplight. His coat was under his arm, his shirt half unbuttoned.
He took two steps down the gravel path and paused, tilted back his head and exhaled – a sigh so long and deep that it shrouded his face in a cloud of breath.
Even from this distance, I thought I could feel the heat pouring off him.
Even if I hadn’t already known who lived here, I’d have guessed by now who he’d been to see. His whole aura was different. Brighter, more intense. Ashton was right: there was something exceptional about Zoe.
Again, I pressed my fingers hard against my chest, then I pulled myself together and strode up to him.
Ashton was just lighting a cigarette when he saw me. Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and let the hand holding the lighter drop. ‘What are you doing here? You barely leave the house these days unless I force you to.’
‘I need to talk to you. And somehow I had a good idea of where to find you.’ I nodded at the building behind him, but forbade myself a glance at the second floor.
Ashton sighed and clicked the lighter. As he took a drag, the cigarette glowed. Exhaling smoke, he grinned lopsidedly. ‘You got me. What now?’
I crossed my arms and tried to subdue my shivering. Being this close to Ashton made me even more aware of how cold I was. ‘It’s too much, Ashton. You just saw her last night.’
He waved a hand dismissively and began to walk away. ‘I don’t need you to tell me the rules. I’m not interested in them.’
‘But you’re interested in her?’ I persisted, sceptical. What I’d told Mabel yesterday was true: Ashton usually discarded his girls more quickly than I could learn their names. Not that I made much effort. We couldn’t let them mean anything to us.
Don’t tell me you remember my meaningless little name? Mabel’s sneering voice popped into my head. I tried to shake it loose.
Ashton flicked the cigarette onto the lawn and stubbed it out carelessly with the toe of his shoe.
There was a path a few feet away from us, but he meant what he’d said: he didn’t care about the rules.
I’d never questioned it before, because for a long time it had worked to my advantage too.
‘Don’t be silly,’ he said scathingly. ‘You know it’s not about that. ’
Of course I knew. It was never about them and always about us. ‘Then find somebody else. Otherwise it’s too big a risk.’ I tried to sound casual, but I could feel my heart begin to pound. Thankfully, Ashton was still too wrapped up in himself to notice.
He lit another cigarette and took a drag so deep it made him cough.
‘There is no risk,’ he croaked. ‘I’m very fucking good at what I do.
Do you know why? Because I’ve had a lot of practice.
Because I’m living my life. Our life. And I’m not going to take orders from you just because you’ve decided to play dead. ’
I heard the warning in his voice, and felt myself wanting to back down.
I knew Ashton far too well to delude myself that I could make him do anything he didn’t want to do.
He loved me, yes, but he loved himself more.
He would never deny himself anything for someone else’s sake.
The only reason he ever considered deferring to other people’s demands was when it suited his purposes.
Or … if it helped keep him out of trouble.
‘What about Henry – would you take orders from him?’
Almost before the words were out of my mouth, I knew it was a mistake.
For a few seconds there was silence, then Ashton’s hand shot out and stopped me in my tracks.
His breath was warm and smelt of smoke, his skin of scented candles, women’s perfume, a distinctive floral fragrance that did not belong to him.
I breathed through my mouth and tried to hold his gaze.
‘Are you fucking serious?’ he growled, his voice soft and menacing, and he jabbed me in the chest so hard I took a half-step back.
‘You’re threatening me? After everything I’ve done for you?
When I’ve had your back for months? You wouldn’t even be here if I wasn’t lying for you, covering your arse every fucking day!
They’d have locked you up ages ago if they knew you wanted to leave! ’
Even in the dark I saw the the blaze of fury in his eyes. And as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I had Ashton to thank for every step I took by myself, every breath of fresh air, every decision I was able to take, which he usually didn’t like but tolerated.
‘Look, I’m sorry, okay,’ I said, with a glance at the vein pulsing in his neck. ‘I’m just worried.’
Ashton snorted, but he already seemed less hostile.
He tapped the ash off his cigarette onto the grass before he walked on.
‘About who? Zoe?’ The jeering note in his voice was unmistakeable.
Ashton had long since ceased to feel compassion.
On good days I despised him for it – on bad ones, I envied him.
‘About us,’ I replied, because it was the only thing he cared about. ‘We can’t afford a scandal.’
‘Relax. I know what I’m doing. And Zoe is so na?ve it’s pathetic. She’s totally harmless. I’ve got it under control. Besides, I’ve got other things to worry about.’
‘Like what?’ I frowned as we passed under an archway, reentering the grounds of our own college.
‘Like your little friend.’ He threw me an amused sidelong look, and inside I froze. ‘You know, the girl you keep saying you don’t know. She’s annoyingly suspicious, and I’m afraid we won’t get rid of her so easily. Could be trouble.’
‘All the more reason to steer clear of Zoe,’ I advised him dryly, although my mind was whirling.
I didn’t know if Mabel had spent any more time with Ashton and the others last night.
After our conversation in the chapel I’d gone to Clare College with Norah to stop Victor doing something stupid – he was heading up to the room of the girl he’d invited that night – and when I went back to find the others, Zoe and Mabel had already left.
Whatever had happened between him and Mabel, it was wrinkling Ashton’s forehead.
Irritation lines, Norah called them. Worry lines wasn’t quite right: Ashton didn’t worry because he knew there was no problem we couldn’t solve.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ he said casually, turning a corner. In the distance, the building where he was living this year – when he wasn’t crashing on my sofa unannounced – loomed into view. The spare key to my flat had been his sole demand in exchange for not telling Henry I was living alone.
‘We’re good at getting rid of nuisances, aren’t we? You haven’t changed your mind, have you? I could tell Victor he has free rein.’
I paused, staring at him, aghast. ‘You are joking? Only yesterday he came within seconds of a serious fuck-up.’
Ashton sighed and shrugged on his coat, although he still radiated a palpable heat.
‘He’s a bit too keen at the moment, sure.
But he’s interested in her. And frankly?
If something goes awry, it would be one less problem on my plate.
Anyway, why are you getting so worked up if you don’t want her yourself?
’ There was a flash of suspicion in his voice.
I wasn’t sure if Norah had told him about our meeting in the chapel, but for whatever reason, Ashton seemed convinced that something was going on between me and Mabel.
He couldn’t know what – I didn’t even understand it myself.
But the mere fact that he suspected something was enough to make me uneasy.
My eyes darted, my heart thudding. I knew I should just shake my head and let it be.
Ashton was unwittingly offering me a solution to my problem.
If Victor took care of Mabel, then I wouldn’t have to worry about her for much longer.
For any reason. It was the best option, the simplest, the most logical.
Yet I couldn’t bring myself to take it. Something held me back.
I didn’t know what it was, but something about Mabel stirred an emotion in me that I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
It didn’t matter so much which emotion – any emotion at all was the surprising thing.
One so strong it could not be ignored. I’d sensed it from the moment we first met, and this something made it impossible for me to simply stand and watch as what always happened, happened.
‘I’ll do it.’ Not until I’d heard the words did I realise I was saying them.
Ashton’s brows knitted. ‘What?’
I forced myself to remain impassive, although my heart was pounding in my throat. ‘I’ll take her.’
‘Just like that? Why?’
I shrugged. ‘Like I said, we can’t afford a scandal. And I don’t fancy a surprise visit from Henry any more than you do. Anyway, as you remarked yourself only yesterday, it’s been a while.’
Tentatively I raised my hand and grasped Ashton’s wrist. I was so cold he winced.
Frowning, he looked at the hairs risen on my skin, then at my shoulders, which began to shiver violently as soon as I stopped trying to control it.
‘See?’ I asked, my voice rasping. ‘I … can’t deny it would be good for me. ’
Ashton nodded slowly as I unwrapped my fingers and took a step back. There was a trace of concern in his eyes, but most of all he looked suspicious. ‘You know I can tell when you’re lying to me.’
‘I don’t intend to. You were right, she …
I do like her. If she’s a problem, and clearly I’ve got a problem of my own, then maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.
Right?’ I didn’t even have to try to make the words sound sincere, because apart from the first bit, they were true.
Unpleasantly so. If it wasn’t for the fact that everything inside me bridled at the thought of using her.
Ashton regarded me for a long time before sighing. ‘Fine by me. But do it properly. The bitch is getting on my nerves.’
‘No problem,’ I said tonelessly, watching him disappear into his staircase.
Do it properly. The words were still racing through my head long after I’d left the deserted college grounds and been swallowed up by the bronze streets and Saturday-night clamour of the town centre.
Do it properly. Do it properly. Do it properly.
As if any of us knew anymore what that even meant.