I shrugged away from the tree. 'It would be hard to break a promise made to you.'
'I think I've made a seriously bad mistake,' Magda said, taking another couple of steps forward.
It wasn't what I wanted to hear. I swallowed the lump that had lodged in my throat. 'I'll go, then.'
Magda shook her head and put a hand on my arm. Where the flesh touched felt like the burn of ice. 'Not about meeting you. About marrying Philip.'
Our eyes stared hungrily at each other. At that moment, the words didn't matter. Magda could have recited 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' and it would have mattered as much or as little. All I was aware of was her touch, her face, her scent. Something was exploding inside my head and I couldn't make sense of anything except Magda's closeness. Knowing it was the most dangerous thing I'd ever done, I leaned into her and kissed her.
I thought we were never going to be able to stop. When we finally broke free, we were both trembling, our breathing ragged and noisy. 'Oh dear,' Magda gasped.
'I didn't mean . . .' I stuttered. 'I didn't mean that to happen.'
Magda touched my cheek with her fingertips, making my skin tingle. 'You'd have had to leave the country to prevent it.'
'Come and sit down,' I said, my voice thick and rough, like I'd never heard it before. 'We need to talk, Magda.'
We sat carefully on the wrap, side by side, my arm round her shoulders, hers round my waist. 'This didn't just come out of nowhere,' Magda said.
'It did for me.'
I could sense her smile. With her free hand, Magda fiddled in the evening bag slung across her body. She came up with a packet of Gitanes and a lighter then fumbled a cigarette out. She offered it to me but I shook my head. She gave a little shrug and lit it. The familiar aromatic smell hit me like a time machine. I hadn't smoked French cigarettes for ten years, but the taste was as familiar as my morning blend of coffee beans.
'Smoking's bad for you.' I was only half-teasing. Already I didn't want bad things to happen to Magda.
'I save them for special occasions. You remember these?' she asked. There was no need for a reply. 'You had no idea, did you? I worshipped the ground you walked on. When you and Mum went to the pub, I used to struggle to stay awake till you got home so I could sneak halfway down the stairs just to listen to your voice. I used to try and persuade Dad to take Mum out for the evening, so you would come and babysit. You were my first major crush.'
I took a deep breath, inhaling the second-hand tobacco taste. 'You're right. I had no idea. Eight years is a huge gulf at that age. I'm sorry, Maggot, I never noticed. I thought we just got on really well.'
'Which we did, of course. But I was crazy about you. If I was meeting Mum at Schollie's, I'd always try to get there early and hope that I'd see you. Then, suddenly, you were gone. One day you were part of the family, the next day you were anathema.'
'What did she tell you?' I really wanted to know.
'Patrick said you'd come to the door and Mum had told you a lie to make you go away.' Unconsciously, Magda had slipped straight into the dialect of childhood. 'I asked Mum what was going on and she said that she didn't want you in her home. She said she'd found something out about you and it meant you couldn't come to the house any more. I asked what you'd done that was so terrible, and she got all bad-tempered and said I'd just have to take her word for it.'
'And you never found out what it was I was supposed to have done?'
Magda chuckled. 'Not in so many words. But I read an interview with you a few years ago in a magazine where you talked about being gay. And that answered the question for me, really. Knowing Mum's views on "homosexuality".' She dropped her voice and stretched the word out syllable by syllable.
'And that's why you've married? Because Corinna hates gays?'
Magda hung her head. 'Sort of. It's what I do, Jay. I keep everybody happy. After you, I had crushes on other women, but lots of my friends did too. It wasn't exactly totally weird. But I had all that oppressive Catholic conditioning dumped on me. And then there were the parents. I've always had a really good relationship with Mum, and Dad's OK if you catch him before the fourth gin. But they're really anti-gay. Dad especially. He genuinely believes it's a mortal sin. So I never had the nerve to do anything about all these crushes I had.' She sighed. 'I just couldn't imagine the conversation. '
I understood. Better than she knew. I could never have had that conversation with my stepfather. Unlike Henry Newsam, he would have had no hesitation in trying to beat it out of me. And my mother wouldn't have stood in his way. Not when it came to following the word of God. 'And so now you've got married.'
Magda nodded, leaning into me. 'Philip's been asking me for ever. His baby brother was in med school with me, and we've sort of been going out for the last three years. We've only just started living together, but we've been an item, kind of. He's a nice man, Jay. He's kind. And he's undemanding. He's also as crazy about his work as I am about mine.'
'Which is?'
Magda gave a quick, puzzled frown. My stomach cramped. 'This is all new to me,' I said gently. 'I know nothing about the last fifteen years of your life, Magda.'
'Of course. Why should you? Philip's a partner in a specialist printing business. They produce a lot of financial instruments and confidential corporate stuff. And I'm a junior registrar in paediatric oncology. I work mostly with children who have been diagnosed with leukaemia.' She pulled a face. 'Another good reason for not experimenting with my sexuality. Hospitals run on rumour, and consultants don't like the combination of queers and kids.'
'Never been tempted?' I asked. I'll be honest, I was having trouble getting my head round the picture Magda was painting of an emotionally starved life.
Magda nuzzled my cheek. 'Of course I've been tempted,' she said. 'But I wimped out. You can sublimate a hell of a lot of sexual energy in the business of learning to become a doctor, you know. All that adrenaline, and the total exhaustion in between. It was just easier to go with the flow. Besides, it never seemed to be the right time and the right place with the right person. Until today.'
'It's your wedding day, Maggot,' I forced myself to remind her.
Magda sighed, a deep, empty sound that seemed to move her even closer to me. She flicked the end of her cigarette into the river. It was so still I could hear the hiss of the dying ember above the pounding of my blood. Then Magda looked up at me. There was still enough light to reveal her eyes glistening with tears. 'So why is it that I'd rather be here with you than over there with my husband?'
I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see Magda any longer. I couldn't handle the contradictory emotions tumbling inside me. 'Cold feet. That's all it is.'
'You know that's not true,' she protested. 'You feel it too. I know you do. You can't pretend you don't.'
'It's too late,' I said, my voice cracking under the strain. 'It's too late.'
Suddenly she was on her knees between my legs, hands gripping my shoulders. 'Don't say that,' she wailed, frustration mapped across her face. 'It can't be. I won't let it be. I've only just found you, Jay, I can't let you go.' She was almost sobbing, hair falling over us both like a curtain closing out the world.
I put my arms out to steady Magda. But she fell into me, pushing me back, body to body, the heat of our summer madness between us. 'Magda,' I protested. But it was a weak protest. My body was giving out a different message. We clung desperately to each other, like children before they discover inhibition.
'We've got to do something, Jay,' Magda moaned.
'You have to go back,' I said, gently rolling over and disengaging myself from Magda's grasp. It wasn't what I wanted. But what I wanted was probably not survivable. 'This is not the end, I promise you. But you have to go back now. You can't change the fact that you married Philip this afternoon. If he's the nice man you say he is, he doesn't deserve to be humiliated. Go back now, and call me when you can. Any time, day or night.' I groped in my pocket for the business card I'd put there earlier. The one with my pri
vate mobile number. I pressed it to my lips and handed it to Magda. 'Sealed with a kiss.'
Magda looked twelve again, about to burst into tears. But she took the card and tucked it into her bag. I checked my watch. It was just after twenty past nine. 'You've got to go, Magda. People'll be wondering where you are. Philip'll be wondering where you are.'
Magda nodded. 'You're right. Walk back with me?'
I smiled, but it was bittersweet. I thought I was done with hiding who I was and who I loved. But apparently not. 'Not all the way back. For your sake, not mine.'
'I know.'
We started back across the meadow, carefully not touching. There was no innocent contact possible between us.That much was clear. As we reached the shelter of the avenue, Magda gripped my wrist again, as she had earlier by the washbasins. 'This isn't a game, Jay. I mean this.'
'So do I. I never thought I'd fall in love like this again.'
Magda smiled. 'You said the L-word first.'
I truly hadn't meant to. And I'd regretted it the moment it passed my lips. Not because I didn't mean it but because I did. Still, love might well be a hostage to fortune, but I didn't think Magda was the person to use it against me. I returned her smile. 'One of us had to.'
'Right,' Magda said, suddenly sombre. 'One of us had to. Jay, this is scary. I feel out of control. Like we've started some chain reaction and I don't know where it'll end.'
'I know it's scary,' I said, stroking Magda's arm with my free hand. 'But I won't abandon you this time. I promise.'
Her breath exploded in relief. 'I've loved you for years, Jay.'
I moved closer, till my lips brushed her hair. 'I understand. I won't abandon you,' I sighed softly.
Magda released my wrist and without any further words, we walked up the twilight avenue to the gardens by the Sackville Building and into the shadows at the rear of Magnusson Hall. 'Chin up, Maggot,' I said, coming to a halt.
Magda looked over her shoulder as she rounded the corner of the building, her face ghostly in the cast of light from the porter's lodge, her smile a promise. Then she was gone, leaving me feeling dizzy and light-headed, wondering what I'd got myself into and how I was going to resolve it without Corinna assuming I was using her daughter to exact a long-delayed vengeance.
I turned away and walked into Magnusson Hall. This time, instead of going down to the JCR, I walked up to the first floor and followed the corridor down to the Mary Cockcroft Room, named after the college's first principal back in the 1920s and used for meetings and seminars.The Cockcroft was directly above the JCR, but only about half the size. Although it was almost dark, there was still light enough coming from the wedding party on the lawn for me to see that the room was in total disarray. Some sort of major refurbishment was clearly under way, with builders' and painters' bits and pieces scattered throughout. A couple of the windows were even out of their frames, the gaps covered with tarpaulins. Luckily, work on the deep pentagonal bay was either completed or had not yet begun, so I picked my way through the obstacles and crossed to the window.
Though there must have been nearly a hundred people milling around between the lawn and the marquee, I spotted Magda instantly, a measure of how tight we'd been drawn together. She was mingling expertly, a few words here, a laugh there, then subtly moving on to the next knot of friends or swirl of dancers pausing in their swooping polka to talk to the bride. As I watched, I felt dazed by her beauty and the change in circumstance that had brought it under my hand. It was almost more than I could credit.
Before she could start the next paragraph, Jay heard the distant sound of the front door closing. 'I'm home,' Magda called up the stairs. Probably just as well, Jay thought, saving the file and retrieving the memory stick. She slid it into her pocket and stepped away from the desk.
'I'll be right there, hon,' she shouted back, switching off the light as she left the office. It was a good place to stop, while things were still scary in a good way. Before they became terrifying for real.
4
Saturday
When Charlie woke, the light was too bright. Her head felt thick and heavy, her stomach uneasy. 'We're going to miss breakfast if you don't get out of your pit,' Maria said cheerily, one hand still on the curtain as she stared out at the view. She was wrapped in a bath towel, her hair a damp unruly mop. 'It's a gorgeous day.'
'Unh,' Charlie grunted. If she didn't move, it might be all right.
'I did think you probably should have passed on that last round,' Maria said, absolutely no sympathy in her face or her voice. 'But you seemed determined to drink your own body weight in Shiraz. It's not like you, Charlie. You generally know when to stop.'
'Yeah, well. We were having such fun,' she said tonelessly.
'Yes. They're good company, Lisa and Nadia.'
'Oh yes. Good company.' If you enjoyed spending your evening on tenterhooks, wondering whether the sky was about to fall on your head. Wondering whether she was revealing her true feelings every time she looked at Lisa. Wondering if Lisa was going to reveal her true identity, instead of hiding behind 'I'm a trainer. I help people develop a variety of people skills.' That Maria had not skewered such vagueness with her usual practicality still had Charlie reeling. It was a powerful reminder of Lisa's charisma.
Maria plonked herself down next to Charlie. 'Come on, babe. Time to get up. Look at me, showered already. I can't wait for breakfast. After that wonderful meal last night, it should be something really special. According to the room service menu, they have award-winning sausages and black pudding from Lewis.'
Charlie's stomach lurched at the very thought of black pudding from anywhere. 'I'll get in the shower,' she mumbled. Anything to escape Maria's relentless good cheer. She rolled out of bed, knowing it was fifty/fifty whether she was going to hold on to the contents of her guts. She made it to the shower, where things improved dramatically. They usually did, in Charlie's experience of hangovers. By the time she'd finished, the prospect of breakfast had grown markedly less unsettling.
The prospect of seeing Lisa, however, was as disturbing as ever. Hiding her feelings while scrutinising Lisa's every glance or remark for significance was exhausting. 'We should have ordered room service breakfast,' she grumbled as she dressed.
'That's what you said last night. God knows why, because you never want room service in a hotel. You always complain that it's never hot enough and they never get the order right.'
Seven years of negotiating Charlie's prejudices and preferences meant Maria was right, of course. 'I was a bit pissed. I suppose I fancied a lie-in,' Charlie said.
'Not much point when you have the mountain rescue guys coming at ten. While you're with them, I thought I might take a drive, see a bit of the island. Is that OK with you?'
Anything that took Maria out of the ambit of Lisa and Nadia was a major plus in Charlie's book. 'Fine.' She turned on the hairdrier, effectively ending the conversation.
To her relief, the dining room was empty when they walked in. Their table from the night before was the only one still set for breakfast. 'Looks like Lisa and Nadia had an early start,' Maria said. 'That's a pity. I was thinking about asking them if they fancied linking up this morning.'
Charlie hid her relief behind the breakfast menu, deciding to try her luck with the award-winning sausages and some scrambled eggs washed down with enough coffee to jump start her synapses. She tried not to think about the acid in Maria's freshly squeezed orange juice or the noise generated by her muesli crunch. Their meal was drawing to a close when Charlie's reprieve ended.
Lisa and Nadia drifted into the dining room. 'Morning,' Lisa said. 'You're very dutiful, getting up for breakfast. We were lazy and had it in bed.' She looked remarkably pleased with herself. Charlie was gratified to see Nadia was looking less thrilled with life. She had the faint pout of a woman who thinks she's not getting enough attention.
'I like my breakfast piping hot,' Charlie said. 'Always worth getting out of bed for.'
'What are you
r plans for today?' Lisa asked.
'Charlie's got some people to see this morning, so I'm going to go for a drive. What about you? You're welcome to join me, if you want.'
'That's very tempting,' Lisa said. 'Is this work then, Charlie?'