Third Time Lucky (19 page)

‘Sure,’ says Scott. ‘Would you like to come, Alex?’

‘Oh, he won’t want to come. He’s not interested in costumes.’

‘I
don’t expect Scott is either,’ Alexander says tersely.

‘True, but if the girls want to see behind the scenes, I don’t mind showing them around. If it’s OK with you.’

Alexander shrugs. ‘Be my guest. While you’re showing the
girls
behind the scenes, I have to make a phone call.’

‘We’ll see you in a little while then. Come on, ladies.’

He holds out his arms to Immy and me, much to Emma’s annoyance, and off we trail to the backstage area. While we’re chatting to the cast, Emma is flirting like crazy, but Scott’s not rising to the bait. He’s friendly, chatty and polite to her but that’s where it ends; and there’s definitely no way Emma can get the impression he’s interested in her. I hope.

Later, back at the house, with Emma in bed, I lie next to Alexander, who’s staring up at the ceiling.

‘You seem on edge. If it’s Scott and Emma, you’ve nothing to worry about. Scott’s been the perfect gentleman and he’d never hit on a girl as young as Emma, especially not your sister.’

‘I’m not worried.’

‘That’s good, because he is gorgeous, and Emma’s only human.’

He turns to me. ‘Gorgeous? Is that what you think?’

‘It’s what most women think.’

He snorts in derision. ‘I hope you don’t say that sort of thing about me.’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘Good,’
he says.

I circle my finger around his nipples and they harden under my fingertip. ‘It would be a lie,’ I say. ‘You’re not gorgeous.’

‘Thanks.’

I walk my fingers up his chest. ‘You’re annoying, awkward and borderline rude …’

‘You flatterer.’

‘I’m not flattering you. It’s true. You’re scary.’

He looks incredulous. ‘No, I’m not.’

I smile. ‘Would you rather be gorgeous or scary?’

‘Neither. I’m just … normal.’

I burst out laughing. ‘Alexander Hunt, normal is the last thing you are.’

I roll on top of him, delighted to feel the rigidity of his erection against my stomach. I lay my head against his chest, and the hair brushes my cheek.

His voice resonates against my ear. ‘So you don’t think me at all gorgeous?’

‘Not one bit.’ I fizz with excitement at what I do find him: Hot, dangerous, knicker-wettingly sexy …

My hand moves lower, circling him between my thumb and forefinger and he moans with pleasure.

‘As you can see …’

Next morning, Alexander went for a run and has now gone up to London for some dark purpose that I assume has to do with the regiment. I’ve been working
all morning and to be honest, will probably be working for most of the day, so I decide to blow away the cobwebs with a quick walk to the Parks and back.

Emma is also meant to be revising but she’s already at the door when I walk back up the steps of Alexander’s house.

‘Lauren. I’m so glad you’re back.’

‘Really?’ I joke.

‘Yes.’ She hugs me tightly. Too tightly.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask when she finally lets me breathe again.

‘I think so.’

A lump settles in my throat as I follow her into the sitting room and dump my bag on the couch. ‘You
think
so? What’s happened?’

‘Nothing really … except I saw Henry.’

‘
What?
Here in Oxford?’

‘Yes, he texted me and asked me to meet him in a cafe in the Covered Market.’

I resist the urge to scream: ‘no, no, and no’. ‘What did he want?’ I ask nervously.

‘To get back together, of course. He said he’d made a “fucking massive mistake”,’ she says, bracketing her fingers around the words, ‘in leaving me and that things would be different from now on.’

I snort.

‘Don’t look at me like that. Of course I didn’t believe him, and I told him where to go.’

‘And
did he?’ I ask, crossing my fingers.

She curls her lip. ‘Not to start with. He started grovelling and almost begging me to take him back. It was pathetic, really, so in the end, I walked out.’

She lifts her chin proudly but her eyes are suspiciously bright.

I hold out my arms. ‘Oh, Emma, how horrible for you but I’m sure you’ve done the right thing. It must have hurt to face him again and tell him that.’

She hugs me again, and her tears wet my cheek. ‘More than I thought it would, and maybe I shouldn’t even have agreed to meet him, but I had to see him face to face. I wanted to prove to myself as much as to him that it was over and he couldn’t hurt me any more.’

‘So, how did he take being dumped for a change?’

She pulls a face. ‘Not well. He turned a bit nasty, in fact, and I was glad we were in the cafe. He said Alexander must be bullying me into doing it, and that I ought to grow up and make my own decisions.’

‘My God, he is a prize asshole. He only said that to try and stop you from telling Alexander he’d hit on you again.’

‘I know.’

I mime applause. ‘Well done you.’

She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. ‘So, I’m glad I saw him, even if it was horrible, because if I hadn’t faced him again, and finally seen what a loser he is, I’d always have been wondering what might have been. And it was
sooo
sweet to dump him this time. I
think he was only after me to hurt Alexander and get his hands on my trust fund. After the scare I had last term, I wonder if he hoped I’d get pregnant so he could marry me or something.’

I feel sad to hear her say this but also suspect it’s possibly true. ‘Whatever his motives, you don’t need a shit like him. You’re gorgeous, Emma; you’re funny and feisty and …’

‘A real pain in the bum at times?’

‘That too,’ I laugh. ‘It seems to be a Hunt trait.’

‘I know,’ she says proudly, then looks right at me, with the kind of look that slices like a scalpel, the sort her brother does so well, ‘But you can’t resist us, can you?’

This statement is so accurate I am momentarily dumbstruck, but then I shake my head and say: ‘I was thinking of getting out of here and taking you out for tea at Brown’s but now I don’t know.’

She laughs. ‘I’ll behave from now on. I promise I won’t give you any more trouble. Ever.’

‘I doubt it very much, and maybe I’d be a little bit disappointed if you didn’t.’

Later that evening, after Alexander has taken Emma back to school, I climb into bed next to him.

‘How was Emma?’ he asks, knowing we went out for tea.

‘OK.’ I hesitate. ‘She saw Henry earlier today.’

His fingers still and he stares at me. ‘
What?
Was he here? At the house?’

He
shakes his head from side to side, as if can’t believe what I’ve told him. ‘If he comes within fifty feet of her again, I will rip off his dick and shove it down his throat.’

‘You’re too late. Emma has already done it – metaphorically at least.

He snaps up to sitting upright and rakes his hands through his hair. ‘Good girl!’ he exclaims. ‘Was she upset?’

‘She’s a Hunt, isn’t she?’ I grin. ‘She’s proud, like her brother, and she’s also smart enough to have seen through Henry now she’s not feeling so vulnerable.’

He shakes his head, as if he’s lost for words, then looks at me. ‘I do … appreciate what you’ve done for Emma; she likes you. I know that occasionally I may seem a little overprotective of Emma …’

‘Only a little …’

He glances at me. ‘You’re laughing at me.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. But Emma needs to make her own mistakes. We all do it.’

My look lets him know I mean he’s my biggest one. Right now, he is a massive mistake because something has changed between us and I feel light-headed. He looks at me, unties the ribbons of my cami, pulls it apart and exposes me.

He kisses the side of my neck. I close my eyes, almost unable to bear the velvet softness of his mouth on my skin. He kisses his way down my throat and down my cleavage.

‘Sometimes,’
he murmurs, lowering his head towards my breasts, ‘I wonder how I’m ever going to survive without you.’

I have no reply. I daren’t utter a word. All I can do is focus on the sensation of his mouth because, no matter how hard I try, I can’t help wondering exactly the same.

The following Saturday, there’s hardly room to move, let along swing a cat, on the terrace of Wyckham boathouse. The place is jumping, literally, and I half wonder if the boathouse roof might give way. A bunch of us have dragged ourselves away from the library to come to watch Bumps, the traditional Summer Eights Week on the Thames, or the Isis as I must remember to call it, unless I want to attract curled lips. Immy’s gone to the bar while I keep a prime viewing spot overlooking the river and slipway.

My mind ought to be on drinking in the sights and sounds, but instead it’s on my exams, all the work I still have to cover, and on Alexander, and on the job, and my future …

‘More Pimm’s?’

Immy has picked her way through the forest of boat club boozers to reach me. Pimm’s sloshes over my fingers when she hands me the plastic glass but, hey, I already seem to have half of the boat club bar over me, so why worry?

‘Eww, cucumber. I hate that in Pimm’s.’ She fishes out a chunk with her fingers and flicks it over the wall.

‘What
the hell?’

At this bellow, Immy peers over the edge of the terrace to the crowds below. ‘Oh dear, what a shame!’

When I glance over, I see Rupert glaring up at us and wiping a piece of cucumber from his face.

‘Sorry, Rupes, I had no idea you were down there!’ Immy calls cheerily.

Rupert, holding a bottle in his hand, shakes his head and resumes his conversation with a bunch of guys with bikes.

‘Good shot,’ I say.

She grins. ‘It really was an accident but I suppose you could call it a happy one. Is Alexander still not speaking to him?’

‘Other than essentials, no, which is why we haven’t been to college dinner much. The de Courceys have been to Falconbury on business but I’m sure they don’t know about the video.’

‘Rupert’s lucky Alexander hasn’t ripped his balls off.’

‘That’s assuming he had any.’

Immy laughs. ‘So, where’s Alexander now?’

‘Working, but he’ll be here later. Rowing’s not really his thing but he wanted to come.’

We hear a swell of noise from further down the river.

‘Oh, Wyckham must be on their way!’

There’s a rush for the edge of the terrace and a buzz of excitement. Further down the towpath, I see dozens
of bikes racing along and the cheering grows louder. People start shouting behind me as the first boat comes into view round the bend in the river.

‘Come on Wyckham!’

The screams are deafening now as the boats chase each other in single file, trying to bump the boat in front without being caught up by the boat behind. It’s crazy, really, and there have already been a couple of collisions, one of which ended up with some of the crew in the river. In a minute, it’s all over. Someone shouts down my ear and spills his pint on me.

‘Look at that! Wyckham have bumped Merton!’

I dab at the lager stain on my dress. ‘And this is a good thing?’

‘It’s awesome. It means that with one more race Wyckham could be Head of the River.’

‘Wow.’

‘Try and sound more enthusiastic, it matters. They’ll burn a boat tonight if we do it.’

‘What? Literally?’

‘Yes. The Warden has given permission for the boat club to set fire to an old one in the Garden Quad,
if
we do it.’

‘But aren’t St Nick’s up for the title as well?’

‘Oh yes, but we can beat them, even if they do have Scott.’

A while later the victorious Wyckham crew arrive at the bank, where their girlfriends are waiting by each college’s pontoon with a plastic pint glass of Pimm’s
for each rower. I find myself alone on the terrace. The crowds have thinned a little but it’s still busy up here. Immy had gone to the ladies, but I can see her below on the slipway in front of the boathouse, chatting to the hunky rower she spent the night with at the Boat Race party. There’s no way I’m going to interrupt that. Alexander has arrived, but headed to the bar by way of the gents about half an hour ago, and while I don’t need to be joined at the hip to him, I’m beginning to wonder what could have kept him. Maybe he’s had a phone call from work – or from Emma.

It’s then that I spot him outside the boathouse doors below me. He’s talking to Rupert, although ‘talking’ isn’t an accurate way to describe their conversation. Judging by his animated gestures, Alexander is laying into Rupert, who has his hands in his pockets and is leaning back defensively. He’s obviously trying to act cool, but I can tell he’s intimidated. I catch a snatch of sneering laughter. Their voices are raised a little and then Rupert jabs a finger at Alexander’s chest before turning his back and stalking off. He glances up briefly, but I don’t think he sees me. I hope not; I don’t want any crap from him today.

‘Hey!’ I stumble a little as beer splashes on my dress. It’s Professor Rafe.

‘Lauren, I am sorry. Here, let me help.’

He pulls out a handkerchief.

‘It’s OK!’ I say through gritted teeth but he’s already dabbing at the wet patch on the front of my dress.

‘No,
really. I’m fine.’ I scoot backwards, knocking the arm of the boat club president, who curses.

‘I am so sorry. I can have your dress cleaned.’

‘No. Really. Please don’t bother.’ The idea of Rafe having my laundry done makes me want to barf.

‘That’s very generous of you, Lauren, but I am most awfully sorry.’

He’s acting way over the top, even for Rafe, and when I get a strong whiff of beer fumes, it occurs to me that he’s a bit tipsy.

‘I didn’t know you liked rowing,’ he says.

‘Likewise,’ I say coolly, trying to keep some distance between us.

‘Of course, I do. I’m here representing the SCR. It’s a momentous day for Wyckham. We haven’t been Head of the River since 1850, you know.’

I resist the urge to ask him if he remembers the event. ‘You don’t say?’

He treats me to another beery leer. ‘Can I get you a drink? I hate to see a woman empty-handed.’

‘No, thanks. Alexander went to get one …’ I search the terrace, frantically hoping he’ll materialize and save me from a prolonged conversation with Rafe. Having to see him in tutorials is bad enough without meeting him at social events. Particularly when I suspect he’s had more than a few drinks.

‘You seem a little concerned? Has he been gone a while?’

‘Not
really. I guess there are still long queues at the bar.’

‘Not as long as earlier. Maybe someone distracted him.’

‘It happens.’ I shrug. My skin prickles as it often does when I’m in close proximity to Rafe, and I swear he’s just moved a few inches closer.

‘I wouldn’t get distracted from you, Lauren.’ My flesh really crawls now. He
must
be drunk to hit on me like this in a public place. ‘You’re pretty difficult to ignore.’ He leans even closer and I would take a step back but the wall of the terrace is stopping me.

‘I’m not sure that’s a good thing …’

‘Oh, believe me, it
is
and I’m glad you’ve snatched a few hours’ respite from essays and revision. In fact, I’ve been waiting to catch you in a more … informal moment. I’m not sure if you’ve had a chance to think about what you might do after your master’s. I’m sure you have many ideas.’

‘A few,’ I lie.

‘Well, I don’t want to sound pushy, but I’ve a friend at another college who’s been looking for a research assistant. We’d be able to carry on working in close proximity.’

A friend? Yeah … ‘Oh … That’s very considerate of you, Professor Rafe, and I’m flattered your “friend” thought of me.’

‘No need to be flattered. I think you’d be an excellent
person for the job and we could continue to develop our relationship while you developed your research skills.’

‘The thing is, I’ve already got a position lined up.’ This is more than a slight exaggeration but I don’t care.

‘How interesting. What is it, if you don’t mind me asking?’ He looks disappointed. My heart is
breaking
.

‘I’d
love
to reveal all, but it’s all hush-hush at the moment. I’m meeting the director after exams.’

‘What a shame you can’t reveal all, but I hope he appreciates your talents.’

‘She.’

‘It’s a woman, is it?’ He smirks. ‘In the US or Europe?’

‘I can’t say another thing about it.’

‘Hmm. If it’s in our former colony, Alexander’s not going to be too pleased.’

I plaster a glacial smile on my face, determined to reveal nothing. Damn it, why have I allowed him to provoke me? And
former colony
? What planet is the guy on?

He holds up his hands. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have probed into your business.’

Ugh, probe is not a choice of word I care to dwell on. ‘Professor Rafe, nothing’s absolutely final yet so I don’t want to tell
anyone
my plans, until they’re definite. You understand.’

He taps the side of his nose. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

‘It’s
not a secret so much …’

‘I won’t say a word but, please, do let me know the outcome. I’m always interested in the destinations of my students and if the job doesn’t work out, or you have second thoughts about my offer, do please tell me.’

Never
, I think, not if it was the last job on earth and I was living on mud. I’m kicking myself for having been goaded into revealing even as much as I have about my plans.

‘You know, Lauren, even if you do leave, I’d like us to keep in touch. You never know when our paths may cross again.’ He says this in a low voice, and every word sounds like an innuendo. He’s definitely drunk.

‘Professor Rafe, you must excuse me …’

‘What for? You haven’t done anything yet, Lauren.’

Damn. I think I may have to actually shove him out of the way but just as I’m about to do it, I spot a familiar face over his shoulder.

‘Scott!’

I don’t care that I’ve probably deafened Rafe, because Scott’s face breaks into a grin when he sees me.

Rafe’s brow furrows – I’m not sure whether that’s because he’s half cut or annoyed – but he turns round and I take my chance and step away.

Scott hugs me. Never have I been so glad to see his towering frame.

‘Professor Rafe, this is Scott Schulze. He was in the Boat Race. Scott, this is my tutor.’

‘Your
tutor? Pleased to meet you.’ He holds out a hand and takes Rafe’s in what I think is an iron grip, judging by Rafe’s pained expression.

‘Yes, very. Well done on the race victory …’ Rafe mumbles, pushing his specs back up his nose. ‘I must go. I’m meeting a friend but I just wanted to have a word with Lauren. Have a nice evening.’

‘You too.’ I give him a little finger wave.

He scuttles off and I heave a sigh of relief. ‘Great timing. Thanks.’

‘Purely a coincidence.’ As Scott kisses me, his damp hair brushes my cheek. ‘Sorry, I came straight out of the shower at the St Nick’s boathouse. Was he giving you trouble?’

‘Nothing I couldn’t handle, but you probably saved me from having to push him over the wall. He’s such a creep.’

‘You should report him.’

‘This close to exams? I don’t think so. I’ve only got a couple more tutes and then I’ll never have to be near him again. I really don’t know what some of the students see in him.’

‘I guess he must hold a dishevelled geeky appeal for some of them.’

‘His appeal bypassed me some time ago.’

‘Hey, Schulze, you loser!’ A couple of the Wyckham Boat Club guys notice who I’m talking to and I stand by while Scott takes the brunt of a few good-natured jibes. Rafe is a sleazeball but the encounter has reminded me
that people are going to keep asking me what I’m doing after the end of term. I have no idea what Alexander’s up to. I hope he’s not thrown Rupert in the river.

The Wyckham boys slap Scott on the back and with a middle-finger gesture at them, which I understand is a sign of respect, he turns back to me.

‘Sorry if my fellow Wyckhamites are giving you a hard time,’ I joke.

‘I can live with it.’

‘On this occasion, even I’m glad your team lost.’

‘I’ll forgive you. Having a good time?’

‘Yes, apart from getting drenched with booze and hit on by Rafe, it’s been fun.’

‘Is Alex around?’

‘Somewhere. He went to the bar a while ago. Where’s Lia? I thought she’d be here, as she’s a rower.’

‘She’s working on her dissertation, just like I should be,’ he grimaces.

I can’t resist. ‘You mean she wasn’t at St Nick’s boathouse to hand out the commiseratory Pimm’s when you got back?’

‘No … I had to make do with some hairy guy from our Second Eight. Hey, you could have been there with the drink or would that have counted as sleeping with the enemy?’ He raises a questioning – and very cheeky – eyebrow before he adds, ‘Metaphorically speaking, of course.’

I wag my finger at him. ‘One of these days, you are going to get me into a lot of trouble, Scott Schulze.’

‘And
why’s that then?’ Alexander shoulders his way to us, a bottle of beer in one hand and a glass of white in the other.

‘Scott was suggesting I – uh – switch my allegiance to St Nick’s.’

‘Was he now?’

‘Without success, so you needn’t worry,’ says Scott amiably.

‘I’m not worried.’ Alexander’s voice is smooth as silk. ‘Here’s your drink. I’m sorry I was so long. Emma called me and then there was quite a queue for the bar. She sounded good. Excited over some trip to Paris during the summer holidays and demanding my consent to go.’

‘You said yes?’

‘Of course! I’m not an ogre.’

To his credit, Scott doesn’t so much as crack a smile at this but I can guess he’s itching to make a smart comment. Instead, he contents himself with saying, ‘I’d better go. I promised to have a few drinks with the crew and then I need to get an early night so I can get an even earlier morning tomorrow. It’s non-stop work for me from now on. Nice to see you again, Alex.’

Scott leans down and kisses me, briefly, on the cheek, and the air is so thick with testosterone you could spoon it up.

‘See you around,’ Scott says, obviously for my benefit.

‘If you can spare a moment from your studies,’ says Alexander icily.

Scott
just smiles. ‘Oh, I think I could fit Lauren in.’