The Second Time I Saw You: The Oxford Blue Series #2 (20 page)

I offer the cup. ‘Here. It’s lukewarm but it’ll be gentle on your stomach.’

After staring at the tea like it might bite her, she picks up the cup and takes a few sips.

‘OK?’

She nods and mutters a word I think is: ‘Thanks.’

Alexander turns around. ‘At last.’

I try to telegraph a ‘shut up’ to him but it’s no good.

‘Why do you have to get on my back?’ Emma wails.

‘Because I care about you. Why do you think?’

‘You’re a hypocrite; you were off your face after the funeral.’

‘That’s different. I wasn’t lying in the road at the time.’

‘It wasn’t the road, it was the High Street and I would have been OK.’

He clearly can’t bring himself to speak for a moment, then shakes his head. ‘Oh, really? You were unconscious, for God’s sake! Did you expect people to just leave you lying there? I don’t want to see you end up raped or dead in some alley. Where were your friends?’

‘They stayed until they knew I was OK. I’m glad they left. They’d only have got into trouble.’

‘They already are. Miss Fisher said she knows who was there. They’ve been suspended too.’

‘I don’t care if I’m suspended. It’s a study week this week anyway.’

‘Luckily for you, otherwise you’d be out of school for a week.’

‘Well you needn’t worry about staying here with me. I can stay with Allegra.’

Oh fuck. Allegra was her alibi when she last saw Henry. The last time I know about, anyway. What do I do now?

Alexander jumps in for me and I have to say I’m relieved. ‘No, you’re not staying with Allegra. You’re coming to Oxford with me.’

She slams the cup into the saucer. ‘You can’t do that, Alex! I don’t want to live with you for a week.’

‘Sorry, no choice. I can’t stay here at Falconbury or I’ll get kicked off my course, and nothing’s going to stop me finishing it.’

‘No!’

‘It’s decided. No negotiation.’

She rounds on him. ‘I may not go back to school at all, you know. I might pack in my A levels and go travelling or off to London. Why should I bother doing my exams anyway? I’ve got Mummy’s money; I’ve got friends I can stay with or I can rent a flat. I don’t need my inheritance.’

‘Don’t start this, Emma. You know how much you want to do that course.’

‘I’m not sure now.’ She folds her arms. ‘I’m not sure about anything.’

‘Grow up. You fought hard enough to be allowed to go there.’

Her eyes flash in triumph. ‘What do you care? You just want me to go to Oxford, like Daddy. You want me to be a clone of you.’

‘A clone of me?’ he laughs. ‘Actually, you couldn’t be more wrong. I was the one who told him that you should be allowed to go your own way and if you must know, he agreed in the end.’

I really think I should take cover under the table.

She’s momentarily silenced before she laughs at him. ‘I don’t believe you. He never said that to me.’

‘He was going to.’

‘How do you know that? When did he say it?’

The struggle to keep his cool is stamped all over Alexander’s face. ‘He said so the last time I saw him. He told me that you should do what you were passionate about. He was going to tell you …’

Emma gulps in air. ‘You bastard! Why haven’t you said this before?’

‘I didn’t want to upset you. Like this.’ He looks anguished, seeing her real distress.

‘Oh, I wish Mummy was here. I miss her so much, and I even miss Daddy.’ Emma crumples and suddenly she looks much younger than her seventeen years.

He stares at her gently and lowers his voice. ‘So do
I, but I’m afraid I’m all you’ve got.’ He walks over to her and to his relief she accepts his hug.

Tears pour down her cheeks now and she gulps back a sob. They are both so distressed and I wonder if I should leave them to it. I am just beginning to creep to the door when I spot Emma looking at me pleadingly. Seeing the look too, Alexander pulls away, ruffles Emma’s hair and walks slowly towards the door.

‘I think I might go for a ride,’ he mutters shakily. ‘I need some air.’

Emma and I look at one another and as soon as he’s gone, Emma starts to cry again, leaving me to pick up the pieces. I’m wrung out myself by lack of sleep and the sheer drama of the night, and I simply don’t know what to do.

I cringe as Emma blows her nose on one of the white table napkins. ‘What do I do now?’ she wails. ‘Alex is furious with me.’

‘He’s upset.’

She snorts. ‘Alex? Upset? He doesn’t do “upset”. He’s like Daddy, a robot.’

‘I wouldn’t say a robot … and he does love you.’

‘Yeah?’ she sneers.

‘He has a strange way of showing how he feels at times, I’ll admit.’

‘
Very
strange. My God, how do you put up with him?’

‘Sometimes I ask myself the same thing,’ I murmur.

‘I suppose you’re in love with him?’ Emma throws down the challenge, so she can’t be too hungover.

‘I think that’s between us.’

‘Hmm. That means mind your own fucking business, doesn’t it?’

I smile. ‘It means what I said.’

‘OK, I suppose I don’t actually
hate
him. I suppose I love him, really, and I even loved Daddy, though I would never have said so to him. He didn’t say it to me very often; I had to guess and hope and assume.’ She sniffs. ‘I can hardly remember Mummy. Do you know how horrible that feels, having her fade away a little more every day? Even the memories I do have I think I might have dreamed or I’ve heard them second-hand from Alex.’

I’d have to be made of stone not to be moved by this comment. ‘I am truly sorry for what’s happened to you and Alexander and that I can’t do more to help you.’

‘You listen. That’s something.’ She toys with a spoon. ‘Do you want to know the real reason I got so pissed last night?’

My mind cartwheels over and over. Yes and no and no and yes because I have a horrible feeling that the answer is going to involve Henry.

She taps the spoon against the cup, faster and faster, and then says into her tea, ‘I think I might be pregnant.’

‘Oh my God!’

She drops her spoon on the table with a clatter. ‘Oh fuck. If you’re so shocked, imagine what Alex will do. Not that he’s going to find out!’

‘Is it Henry?’

‘Of course! I’m not a complete tart.’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

Her eyes plead with me. ‘I know, sorry. Oh, Lauren, what am I going to do?’ she wails.

She asks me
?
‘First of all, I guess, you need to find out if you actually
are
pregnant. Why do you think you might be?’

‘I’m ten days late.’ She pulls a face. ‘I’m pretty regular usually. I keep a diary.’

‘Even so, aren’t you on the pill?’ I ask, horribly out of my depth.

‘Well, Henry thought I was, but it gave me massive headaches so I stopped.’

I manage to bite back an ‘oh fuck’. ‘Have you done a test yet?’

‘No. I’m too scared.’

‘You have to before you can decide what to do.’

‘I can’t have a baby,’ she wails.

‘Then the sooner you find out for sure, the better.’

‘I don’t want Alex to know.’

‘Right then, we’ll go get a test now.’

‘How? I can’t drive and anyway Alex will want to know why I’ve been out when I should be resting. Brandon will definitely tell him.’

‘I don’t have a licence to drive here, even if I dared take the Range Rover out. What about if I have Brandon take me to the drugstore? Where’s the nearest?’

‘At the Waitrose on the bypass.’

‘OK, I’ll go now and hopefully I’ll be back before Alexander’s finished his ride.’

‘Won’t he find out you’ve taken the Bentley?’

‘Sure, but I’ll tell him I needed some Tampax or something, not that it’s really any of his business.’ I give her a confident smile. ‘Stop panicking, it may well all be OK.’

‘Oh, I hope so. Lauren, thanks for this.’ She throws her arms around me.

‘It’s OK,’ I say, ‘but when we’ve got this over with, we need to have a talk.’ And boy, have I heard that before. My mother would be laughing her cashmere socks off.

The one thing about Brandon that I do like is that he’s obviously skilled in the art of not asking too many questions, and my request to be taken to Waitrose is met with: ‘Of course, Miss Cusack.’ Half an hour later, I’m being let into the front door of the house by Robert, a pharmacy bag inside my tote, feeling like some kind of Cold War spy.

‘Um, is Alexander back from his ride?’

‘Not yet, Miss Cusack.’

‘OK. Thanks, Robert.’

I slip upstairs to Emma’s room and knock softly. ‘It’s Lauren.’

There’s a thud and she opens the door. ‘You got it?’

‘I got two.’ I pat my bag.

‘Good. I am so grateful.’ I’m thinking she should wait until she has the result but then she starts crying and I put my arm around her.

‘I can’t do this.’

‘Yes, you can. If it’s negative, you can relax, and if not, then you can make a decision.’

‘I already know what that’ll be.’

‘Then let’s get this over with.’ I hand over the packet.

‘You won’t tell Alex, whatever happens?’

With a great effort of will, I answer, ‘It’s your business. I’d prefer to tell him but I won’t if you really don’t want me to.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Do you want me to leave you or wait while you do the test?’

‘Would you stay?’

‘Sure.’

She goes into the bathroom while I wander to the window, looking out over the stables. My nerves are on a knife edge so God knows how Emma must be feeling, but I’m certainly not going to wait there in the bathroom while she pees on the stick. My heart rate
ramps up a little when I spot a rider trotting along the path that leads out of the woods before I realize it’s only one of the grooms. I’d laugh at myself, if Emma wasn’t so worried. All this secrecy is ridiculous.

‘Are you OK?’ I call through the door.

My answer is the sound of the toilet flushing so I head back to the window. Talia is chatting to the groom I mistook for Alexander, which is crazy because the groom is a foot shorter and forty pounds lighter. Talia pats the horse’s muzzle before leading him off to the stable.

The door to the bathroom opens and Emma emerges. I hadn’t thought she could look any paler or sicker than she did last night but her whey-face comes pretty close.

‘What?’ I blurt out, dreading the answer.

‘Nothing yet. I’ve peed on the stick and I’ve put it on the window ledge. I can’t bear to look … I think I’m going to be sick. You don’t think that’s a sign, do you?’

Only of a raging hangover and major stress, I think. ‘Sit down and take some deep breaths. You need to wait a couple of minutes.’

She lies back on the bed and closes her eyes while I check my watch, pacing the room like it’s me who’s waiting for the result. Instantly, I wish I hadn’t empathized with Emma because a baby is the last thing on my mind right now – I’ve not even begun my career – and yet it
can
happen. I know my parents didn’t plan me; in fact my mother had only just graduated from Sarah Lawrence and she’s quite upfront about the
timing. ‘Condom fail, honey, just so you’re aware,’ she told me as soon as I started dating Todd, while telling me in the same breath that I was ‘
the
best thing that ever happened’ to her and Daddy. I winced when she mentioned it – wayyy too much information – but I think she was trying to be helpful. And yes, there would be ‘options’ if I did get pregnant, but the idea of having to take one of them isn’t the happiest thought.

Screwing up my courage on Emma’s behalf, I walk to the bed and touch her arm. ‘I think we could look now.’

Her eyes stay shut. ‘I can’t.’

‘You have to. Alexander could be back any time.’

She stares back at me and sits up. ‘Fuck.’

‘You don’t want him coming in here when you’ve just found out the result, do you? Whatever it is.’

‘I don’t want to be on my own!’

‘Then you have to check the test
right now
. You might be worrying for nothing.’

Muttering a string of ‘fuck’s, she marches into the bathroom. Seconds later, I hear a shriek and an ‘Oh my God!’

Now it’s me who closes my eyes, wondering how the hell I’m going to advise a pregnant and hysterical teenager on her life choices, but then she rushes out of the bathroom and launches herself at me.

‘It’s negative. I’m not pregnant!’

Once I can breathe again, I heave a huge sigh of relief. ‘Fantastic.’

‘I must have been late.’

‘You’ve had a really rough time; maybe it messed up
your cycle – and worrying about being pregnant won’t have helped.’

‘Maybe. Oh, Lauren, I am
so
happy.’

She virtually dances around the room. I guess the hangover has worn off, so that’s one good thing.

‘That’s great. Emma … It’s really none of my business who you see or what you do, and it’s none of Alexander’s either, but I still don’t feel comfortable with lying to him.’

She stops jigging and frowns. ‘I don’t know what you mean. What lies have you told him?’

‘None … yet, but I have let him assume things that I know to be untrue, which is the same thing. When we dropped you off at Allegra’s house, he told me he was glad you were safe. Imagine how I felt, knowing you were spending the night with Henry.’

‘Of course I was safe. I was with Henry.’ She sighs dreamily.

I fear there is no hope of her dropping him yet but realize there’s no point in persuading her otherwise. ‘That’s up to you, but I’d be a lot happier if I didn’t have to be in this position.’

‘You mean don’t tell you any more about my private life?’ she says warily.

Oh shit, am I doing the right thing? Am I cutting off her only source of advice; am I leaving her with no one in the world to talk to? What kind of person does that make me?

‘If you need to talk, then I’m here, but try and look at things from my point of view.’

She hugs me again. ‘I’m sorry, I do appreciate you helping me and listening to all my dramas. It must be difficult being torn between me and my brother but he is
so
unreasonable.’

‘In some ways, maybe, but that’s because he
does
love you.’

She smiles. ‘I know that and I will try to be nicer to him from now on. I’m sorry I spoiled your trip to Rome, by the way. Bad timing.’

I give a weak smile. ‘The trip was almost over,’ I say, thinking back to Alexander’s words at the trattoria last night. ‘I
really
have to go now. I need to do some work.’

‘I won’t forget this, Lauren.’

I just smile again, knowing she probably will and wishing I hadn’t become a player in her drama.

There’s a knock on the door.

‘Emma? It’s Alex. Can I come in?’

Alex
?
He must really want to mollify her, but hearing his deep and serious voice has the opposite effect on her.

She mouths ‘help’ and throws up her hands in panic.

I spot the crumpled test packet and cellophane on the bed.

‘Emma? Are you OK?’ asks Alexander again.

Emma snatches it from me and bundles it under her duvet cover. ‘Er … hang on a minute. I was just getting dressed.’

‘I should have told him to go away!’ she hisses as we hear impatient footsteps outside the door.

‘Too late now.’

‘Emma, can you open the door, please?’

She flies to the door and pulls it wide open. ‘Sorry about that.’

Alexander’s face registers total confusion, firstly at spotting me and secondly because I suspect our smiles are way too wide. He must have headed straight up here from the stables because he’s still in dark-navy jodhpurs and riding boots.

‘Hello … Lauren …’

‘Lauren and I were just having a girly chat, weren’t we?’

‘We were. How was your ride?’ I ask as he looks at each of us, in turn. The chances of fooling Alexander are slim but thankfully I don’t think even he is telepathic.

‘It was good …’ he says, and I have to admit he does look more relaxed. His thick brown hair is ruffled from the wind, his face is spattered with mud and he looks super hot in the jodhpurs. Is that a wicked thing to think at a time like this?

‘I wanted to talk to you but I can come back later if you two are busy,’ he says, addressing Emma.

Hearing this, I decide there is
no
way
I’m letting either of them off the hook this time. ‘No, we’re done here and I need to do some work.’

‘You don’t have to go.’ Emma throws a pleading glance at me.

‘I do. I really must. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Hope the Advil helped the headache.’

‘Thanks,’ she mutters.

‘I won’t be long,’ Alexander says to me.

‘It’s fine. Take all the time you want.’

I pick up my bag and leave before I end up playing umpire again, while also keeping my fingers crossed that peace might break out between them. When I don’t hear the sound of vases being smashed against the walls, I take it as a good sign and manage to settle down to an essay outline.

It’s a while before Alexander returns and my pulse flutters at the soft click of his bedroom door opening. For all I know, in her wild state of mind Emma might have decided to go all confessional. Maybe, I reason, that would be a good thing, as long as I’m not part of it.

‘Hello.’ He sits on the edge of the bed next to me and starts to pull off his boots. I notice a trail of dried mud from the door to the bed and wonder if Helen will have a fit, or if she’s used to the Hunts’ quirks by now. Muddy floor aside, he looks calmer and more at ease than I’ve seen him since Rome.

‘How did that go?’ I ask.

Once one boot is off, he tugs at the other one, so I can’t see his face for a few seconds. ‘I suppose it could have gone a lot worse. In fact, it was better than I’d hoped. I explained why I didn’t tell her about my father giving his blessing to her going to Saint Martins.’ He glances up at me. ‘I admitted that I’d been scared of upsetting her even more than she already was by talking about what happened the day he died. I know it was cowardly of me not to have told her sooner.’

‘I wouldn’t say cowardly.’

‘Maybe, but I misjudged her reaction. I thought she’d be devastated that my father didn’t live to tell her himself, but in hindsight I should have given her more credit. And I also admitted that I probably shouldn’t have been so hard on her this morning.’

‘How did she take it?’

Before replying, he stands his boots upright, next to each other, perfectly aligned. So it’s OK to leave a trail of mud but not to have his boots out of line. Finally he meets my eye. ‘She was upset that my father never told her himself but she seems to understand why I didn’t say anything sooner. Thanks for keeping her company earlier, and I’m sorry I walked out but I needed to take some time to calm down. What were you two talking about while I was out?’

‘This and that.’ At this statement I have visions of myself at the end of a pitchfork, like in Dante’s
Inferno
.

‘Did she say anything about why she got so pissed last night? I called the school when I got back from my ride and they said she’d seemed upset in her lessons last week. The housemistress thought it was delayed grief and tried to talk to her, but she didn’t want to say anything.’