Third Time Lucky (21 page)

‘Are you sure you’re not angry with me for phoning you? I really didn’t want to do it.’

‘Sad, shocked, yes; angry – no. Rupert needed a wake-up call and as for Valentina, that witch has been asking for a kick up her bony arse for far too long.’

She ushers me to a table in the furthest, darkest corner of a cafe in the Covered Market. ‘Now listen. Before I tell you this, you must promise faithfully
never
to tell Alexander what I’m going to tell you …’ Letty begins.
‘Because this is the only way I could stop Valentina from spreading her poisonous lies.’

My fingers aren’t quite steady as I replace my cup in its saucer, my mind conjuring up all sorts of bizarre scenarios. ‘Of course I promise, but what have you done?’

‘I
haven’t done anything,’ Letty says grimly. ‘But Valentina has and it’s something she never wants Alexander to know, or he really will never speak to her again, although I assume he’ll probably cut off all contact with her anyway if you tell him what she’s been planning. Have you told him?’

‘Not yet, but he’s going to want to know why I’ve ignored his calls last night and this morning, and it’s going to be very hard to keep this from him. He’s very tenacious,’ I say.

She rolls her eyes. ‘It’s up to you what you say to him but whatever you do, don’t tell him what I’m about to tell you now. Promise,’ she adds urgently.

‘I promise,’ I say again, more confused than ever.

I have to strain my ears as Letty whispers. ‘I’ve never told a soul this, not even my husband, but I know my brother and Valentina were together at Falconbury.’

‘What? The general and Valentina were together, as in together having
sex
?’ I ask, incredulous.

‘Shhh. Yes. It was while she was staying at Falconbury. Alexander was due to come back from a tour. I heard them at it in her bedroom.’

‘Are
you sure?’

‘Believe me, the sounds that were coming out of that room were unmistakeable. Valentina was wailing like a banshee and as for Frederick, well, the things he was saying would make your hair curl.’

I pull a face, horrified at the idea of Valentina screwing Alexander’s father and guessing how Alexander would feel if he knew. It seems incredible, but thinking back to the way Valentina flirted with him at the hunt weekend and how attentive he was to her, I can just about believe there was more to it. The banshee wailing also rings true, having heard Valentina myself on the sex video.

‘Frederick had no choice but to admit it when I confronted him,’ Letty goes on. ‘He said it was all a dreadful mistake, had never happened before and begged me not to tell Alexander.’

She sighs and shrugs. ‘I don’t believe it was a one-off but I do think he ended it once he’d been caught out. I spent many a sleepless night wondering whether to tell Alexander despite my promise to Frederick, but he swore he’d never do it again. I had an inkling things weren’t great between Valentina and Alexander by that stage and a few weeks later they split up so I saw no point in upsetting the poor boy unnecessarily.’

‘Alexander would have gone bananas if he’d known.’

‘Of course he would. It would have completely annihilated any shred of respect he had left for his father and caused even more trouble in the family, for both
Alexander and Emma. After Frederick’s death, of course, there was no way I was going to drop a bombshell like that.’

‘So I assume you threatened Valentina with telling Alexander about this now? What did she say?’

‘For once in her life, she was speechless, then she gave me a tirade of abuse before finally agreeing to keep her mouth shut and go back to Italy.’

‘So you think she will keep quiet?’

‘I think so. I was banking on the fact that she’s deluded enough to think she still has a chance with Alexander … particularly if she thinks you’re going to be off the scene at the end of term.’

She looks hard at me but I sip my tea and avoid responding. I’m very grateful – more than grateful – to Letty for her help but I’m not going to be drawn any further than that.

‘Then let that work to our advantage,’ I say. ‘Let her go on thinking that he’d have her back, as you say, so that she carries on living in fear of you telling Alexander about her and his father.’

Letty smiles weakly. ‘I’m sorry about Rupert’s involvement in this – and that’s one reason I’ve decided to step in, because I feel responsible in a way.’

‘You’re not, and I am
so
relieved that you’ve helped us. I’m only sorry it came to this.’

‘Well, perhaps not, but I tell you this: if my son gets into any kind of trouble after this, his father and I have warned him he’s on his own. We’ve bailed him out far
too many times already and it will do him good to clean up his own mess next time.’

The late-afternoon sun still burns into me as I wait, in shorts and T-shirt now, outside the Exam Schools.

Alexander emerges from the doors. I see a couple of our friends waiting; someone shakes his hand, someone hugs him, but he’s on a mission and I know what it is. He strides into the road and jogs down the street, his gown flying behind him. He looks devastating in his army uniform and cap and my heart starts beating faster. I’ve decided I have to tell him at least the first half of the dramas I’ve been facing.

Clasping my hands together nervously, I step out from the shade of a storefront and he spots me. His expression changes from determination to relief, then anger. He quickens his pace and rushes up to me.

‘Lauren, where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick. I’ve been calling you last night, this morning and lunchtime between exams. What’s going on?’

I take a deep breath. Ever since I met Letty, I’ve been trying to think of how much I can tell him. He needs an explanation for my terse call last night to say I couldn’t meet him today. Besides, now we’re out of the woods he ought to know the new depths to which Valentina has sunk. ‘I’m sorry I worried you but I’ve had something to sort out, and you have to promise not to explode when I tell you. You’re not going to like it,’ I say grimly.

His
jaw tightens, his lips press together and I can tell how very hard he’s working to keep his feelings in check when he hears what Valentina’s been up to. Around us, in the back lane to college, people are laughing and shrieking, corks are popping and party poppers are flying into the air.

‘Why didn’t you call me last night, as soon as she’d left?’ he asks, running his hands through his hair. ‘I’d have thought of something.’

‘I didn’t want to ruin your exams. God knows, you’ve had enough on your plate this term and I wanted you to have a good night’s sleep, and also … Valentina said the only contact I could have was to break things off. I didn’t want to do anything that would make her carry out her ridiculous threats.’

‘So you agreed to dump me?’ He raises an eyebrow.

‘Of course not! Well, yes,’ I say, crestfallen, then pull back my shoulders defiantly. ‘If I want to dump you, I’ll do it on my own terms.’ His face darkens and at first I think I’ve offended him again, before I realize there is another emotion smouldering behind those inscrutable eyes, one that makes me feel quite light-headed. ‘And I also wanted to try and deal with things myself and not bother you.’

He seems very surprised. ‘You should still have told me. But how have you stopped her?’

‘You know I had tea with Letty not long ago. I thought she might be able to exert some influence on
Valentina through Rupert. So I hope you don’t mind – I called her for help last night.’

He shakes his head and kisses me briefly, but with such promise, on the lips. ‘I can’t keep up, so come on, what’s Aunt Letty done to them both?’

‘Read Rupert the riot act and threatened to cut him out of her will and the family business, told him he’s hurt her more than anyone has ever hurt her before.’

‘Well, that would have hurt him, being threatened with the prospect of actually having to earn his own living. And Valentina?’

‘I have no idea,’ I lie. ‘I guess she put so much pressure on Rupert, maybe he was able to stop her. I really don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me,’ I end lamely.

He blows out a breath. ‘Letty may stop Rupert but I doubt if she – or he – will have any influence over Valentina.’

‘You might be surprised …’

‘Well, anyway, don’t worry. Why don’t you leave her to me,’ he says grimly.

‘Alexander, there’s no need. I’m sure she’ll think better of doing something so stupid, because she’d ruin her reputation too,’ I say, worried that Alexander wading in may counteract Letty’s strategy. Maybe Valentina will be so furious she’ll decide to tell Alexander about her affair with his father after all. ‘I’m concerned that you calling her might tip her over the edge and make things worse,’ I add.

He
frowns and his tone hardens. ‘I’m not going to sit back and do nothing after what she’s threatened. Now, go back to college.’

Seeing my questioning look, he says firmly, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Go home, and don’t lose any sleep over Valentina.’ He kisses me to silence my protests.

I wish it was that easy to follow his advice, but it’s pointless arguing with him any further in this mood and so I have no choice but to let him go while I hurry back to college.

Once I’ve gathered my thoughts and tried to put on a brave face, I call on Immy. Despite having exams tomorrow, she’s too wrung out to do much revision so I agree to go for a quick drink with her before she gets an early night. There’s no way I’m bothering her with my problems and sure enough, despite Alexander’s reassurance – and Letty’s intervention – I can’t completely relax.

The next morning I try to focus on my studies; perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise that my toughest paper is coming up and I can’t afford to let Valentina distract me. Even so, I can’t stop myself from constantly checking my phone, desperate for word from Alexander. What will he do? He is so angry; I hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.

It’s late afternoon before he finally calls and asks me to meet him at the house. I have to force myself not to run all the way to his place. He must have been looking
out for me because as soon as I arrive, he opens the door:

‘You don’t need to worry about Valentina. I’ve seen her.’

My pulse rate rises. ‘And? What did you do?’

‘Something that will make sure she won’t be a problem,’ he says with a grim smile.

‘How can you be so sure? Alexander, what have you done?’ I ask, all sorts of scenarios racing through my mind.

‘I haven’t
done
anything.’

‘Then what have you said to her?’

‘All you need to know is that she won’t ever share that video or her so-called story. So now,’ he says, touching my cheek, ‘you can relax.’

I let out a sigh, hoping that whatever he’s done or said to Valentina is a ‘belt and braces’ job. He can’t know the truth, or he’d surely be devastated as well as angry. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever relax again, not after the past term.’

‘I could think of a way of helping you.’

‘Really?’

I close my eyes, hoping that – between Letty and Alexander – Valentina is gone for good, and try to surrender myself to the delicious feeling of him teasing my panties down my thighs.

Standing
by the bus stop in the High, I pretend to check my phone as if I hadn’t a care in the world. Actually, I shouldn’t have a care because my exams are over, yet I’ve spent the past few days half expecting to see Alexander and Valentina trending on Twitter – and being pissed at myself for thinking such crazy thoughts. As for Alexander, he’s remained infuriatingly silent about his encounter with Valentina and my few hints have met with a change of subject. So I’ve had no choice but to accept his explanation for now. Letty has also sent me a couple of encouraging texts, telling me to ‘brace up’ and stop worrying.

Today, I’m absolutely determined not to think about her because it’s Immy’s final exam and a bunch of us are back at the Examination Schools, waiting for her to come out. Trashing was banned years ago, but that doesn’t stop people trying to celebrate in the street or the university ‘police’ trying to catch them in the act. However, there’s no way we’re going to be put off and, with Alexander’s help, I’ve planned Operation Drench Immy with military precision.

Three friends, Oscar, Chun and Isla, are feigning interest in various storefronts while Alexander scans a
bus timetable, not, I might add, that he’s been on an Oxford bus for a very long time, if ever.

‘Where is she?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know,’ he says.

‘Well, everyone else is out by now. I hope she hasn’t rushed out before the end. She was totally freaking out before this Statistics paper. She hates Stats.’

‘Stop worrying. She’ll be out in a minute. Look, isn’t that her?’ He points towards the steps of the Schools, where a hunched dark-haired girl trudges down the steps, her cap in her hand.

‘Oh, yes. Poor Immy, she looks worn out.’

Alexander untwists the wire on the champagne bottle in his backpack. ‘Get ready because once we’ve done this, we’re going to have to run. There are a couple of bulldogs over there and I don’t want to be hauled up before the proctors or end up in one of the tabloids as an example of a dissolute Oxbridge toff.’

‘But you
are
a dissolute Oxbridge toff.’

He rolls his eyes as we both pretend to read the bus timetable while keeping a discreet eye on the two bowler-hatted men berating a bunch of guys who have covered their friend in baked beans.

‘Hey there, is this a covert mission or can anyone join in?’

‘Scott!’

Alexander transfers his attention from the timetable to us. ‘It’s Operation Drench Immy,’ I say.

‘I
guessed as much. I checked the exam schedules. Permission to join the mission, captain?’

Alexander smiles. ‘Lauren’s in charge of this one.’

‘If you follow orders to the letter, you can join the mission,’ I say.

Scott gives me a discreet salute.

Immy has stopped at the bottom of the steps. She wipes her forehead with the back of her arm and glances around her.

‘She’s wondering where we are … Shouldn’t we go over there now?’ I say.

Alexander shakes his head. ‘Too risky. Wait for it … It’ll be easier to make a getaway from this side of the street.’

‘There’s a bulldog on this side too, outside the liquor store. What if he spots us?’ Scott says.

‘He won’t. Trust me.’

After looking around her a few times, Immy steps into a gap in the traffic and walks towards us. The bulldog seems to have vanished.

‘He’s gone inside the wine merchant’s,’ Alexander says.

‘Let’s go for it.’ I make a ‘one, two, three’ signal with my fingers to Oscar, Chun and Isla.

Alexander eases out the cork while Immy hurries across the street, dodges an open-top bus and skips on to the pavement.

‘Surprise!’ I leap out from the bus stop.

‘What the –? Arghhh!’

She
shrieks as the cork flies out of the bottle and fizz fills the air like a fountain.

‘Oh my God! Arghhh!’

Alexander empties the contents over her.

‘You idiots! I’m soaked,’ Immy shrieks delightedly. ‘And Scott! OMG!’

I laugh. ‘You’d have been devastated if we hadn’t been here.’

Even Alexander smiles and hands the bottle to Immy. Scott kisses her and then I see something rare: Immy actually blushes.

‘Congratulations on surviving,’ he says, then Alexander curses.

‘Shit. The bulldogs have spotted us. Back to college,
now
!’

The bulldogs hover on the kerb opposite, desperately trying to find a gap in the traffic, but we’re already off.

We race up the High Street, dripping with champagne, and dart into a narrow lane that leads back to Wyckham. When we finally slow down to catch our breath, Immy heaves a huge sigh of relief.

‘Someone pinch me and tell me it’s really over. That was the most horrible week of my life and I never ever want to do it again.’

We all laugh and Isla hands over a bouquet of flowers.

‘There’s more fizz back at college. Everyone’s waiting to party. Why did you have to be the last one to finish?’

‘I
don’t know. It’s been vile. I don’t know how I haven’t run out of the exam room screaming some mornings, and I’ve probably got a third but I don’t care. It’s over and now I am going to get totally wasted. Will you be joining us, Scott?’

He laughs. ‘Much as I’d love to, I have plans for this evening. But I think I can squeeze in a quick one.’ He winks.

Later that evening, Immy and I walk back to college together. Alexander insisted on treating a group of us to dinner but has now gone to meet a colleague for a drink. We had planned to go on to a club but after her marathon exam session, Immy’s almost dead on her feet so I said I’d walk back with her.

Wyckham looks serene and majestic, its towering gatehouse silhouetted against the indigo velvet of the sky. The knot in my stomach returns and tightens. I still haven’t told Alexander about the job interview and the longer I leave it, the harder it seems. Why ruin these final few idyllic days together? I can tell him after the ball on Saturday.

‘It was a shame Scott had to go out to dinner with Lia this evening,’ I say.

‘Story of my life,’ says Immy as we enter the Lodge. ‘But all may not be lost. Can you wait here while I check my pidge? I’ve been hoping to get a spare ticket for the ball from one of the committee, and she said she’d
leave it here for me this evening if she’d managed to wangle one.’

A few moments later she walks out, waving a white envelope. ‘Yes! I got it.’

‘Great! So who’s going to be your partner?’

‘Remember that rower from Jocasta’s Boat Race party that I bumped into at Eights Week? Well, he called again last week and said now he’d finished his master’s, would I like to hook up?’

‘I thought you weren’t interested?’

‘Well, he did offer to pay for the ticket and it’d be fun to have a partner for the ball, so I thought, why not? He may turn out to be better in the sack when he’s not knackered and plastered too. Shall we go and have a nightcap in my room? I’ve still got half a bottle of Moët from earlier.’

We walk into the Front Quad, where the sky is still twilit, a renewed spring in Immy’s step.

‘Oh my God, who is that twat?’

On the opposite side of the quad, a clearly inebriated man is climbing out of a window on to the battlements. Shouts and curses from the open casement behind him seem to echo around the walls of the building.

Immy gasps. ‘It looks like Rupert.’

‘That’s because it
is
Rupert,’ I say quietly.

Heads pop out of the window behind Rupert, who is wearing a tailcoat and a top hat.

‘Come in, you idiot, before the porters get here.’

Ignoring
his friends, Rupert starts to beat his chest and howl.

‘He thinks he’s Tarzan …’ I say.

‘For God’s sake, be quiet, Rupert!’ Immy shrieks.

Rupert stops howling, puts his hands over the low battlement wall and leans forward.

Immy recoils. ‘Christ, he’s so drunk he could end up splattered all over the flagstones.’

Even I have my heart in my mouth because no matter how much I loathe the snake, I don’t want him to fall.

His top hat falls off and bounces off the flagstones. His friends make a grab for him but he laughs and starts singing – if you can call his drunken howls singing.

‘Should we fetch the porters?’ I ask.

Immy grabs my arm. ‘No need; they’ll be here in a minute with all this noise. He is an arse.’

Rupert clearly has a better opinion of himself. ‘I’m the king of the world!’ His shout is bound to wake someone and, sure enough, a few lights start to pop on around the quad. He also seems to be swaying.

‘Shit, we’ll have to get someone …’ Now even Immy sounds worried. She’s about to run to the Lodge.

A figure emerges from an archway on Rupert’s side of the quad.

‘Wait, it’s Rafe,’ I hiss.

‘Oh, the jolly old Bishop of Birmingham!’

At Rupert’s drunken shout, Rafe immediately stops,
then stands on the flagstones under the battlements, hands on hips.

‘De Courcey? What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Immy winces. ‘Oh dear, Rupert really is fucked now.’

‘Get down from there at once!’

Rupert starts cackling madly.

‘Come back in, this minute!’ There are frantic shouts from the window behind him and hands reach out for him, but Rupert’s on a roll, drunkenly bellowing out some obscene limerick while Rafe shouts at him from below.

‘If you don’t get down this instant, I’ll wake the Warden!’

Ignoring Rafe, Rupert fumbles with his trousers.

Immy groans. ‘Oh hell, I think he’s going to moon at Rafe!’

A second later, Rupert’s trousers are round his ankles but instead of turning around, he clutches his groin.

Rafe leaps backwards but it’s too late to avoid the stream of urine falling from four floors up. He loses his footing and topples backwards on to the lawn.

There is a brief moment of silence before the quad erupts.

Rafe is struggling to his feet as two porters run over the lawn towards him.

‘Professor Rafe, are you OK?’

‘Of course I’m not OK. That revolting little shit just
pissed all over me. I want him sent down!’ He pulls a handkerchief from his jacket and starts wiping his face.

Curses and shouts ring out from the battlements, where Rupert is still cackling madly, waving his dick and singing. He’s also swaying alarmingly and seems about to topple forward when he’s hauled backwards through the window, his trousers still round his ankles. There’s a crash and even louder shouts, then the porters run under the archway to the staircase. The window slams shut.

Immy turns to me. ‘Oh Lauren, I really thought he was going to fall off.’

‘Me too. Look at Rafe.’ The Dean is out now, in his pyjamas and dressing gown, trying to calm Rafe down.

‘Serves him bloody right,’ says Immy. ‘I don’t think I’ve enjoyed myself so much in a long time.’

We both start laughing – I don’t know whether it’s relief or the booze or just the sheer bizarreness of the evening. Immy is convulsed beside me and I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts.

‘Come on, let’s go and have a nightcap. I was knackered, but that’s woken me up again. Maybe we should go on to a club after all?’

The next morning – or should I say the next afternoon – Immy meets me in the JCR, brandishing a tabloid newspaper. ‘Have you seen this yet?’

‘No, I only crawled out of bed ten minutes ago.’ For
a split second, my pulse races, thinking that Valentina has gone through with her threat after all, then Immy opens a spread in the middle of the paper. My bleary eyes struggle to focus on the words but the headline is unmistakeable: ‘DON GETS A SOAKING FROM DRUNKEN TOFF’.

‘Oh God. How did that get in the press?’

‘Some hack from
Cherwell
saw it from his room and filmed it on his mobile. The video’s on the newspaper site. It’s even funnier than I remember. Rafe will go nuts and Rupert’s parents won’t be too pleased.’

‘Oh no,’ I moan.

‘Why are you bothered? Rupes has been awful to you.’

‘Yes, but Letty is lovely.’

‘Well, it’s not your fault and it serves Rupert right. Apparently he’s already been rusticated and banned from the ball! The Warden said he’d brought the college into disrepute.’

‘Rusticated? What does that mean?’

‘Banned from entering college for the rest of term.’

‘Well, technically, term’s over.’

‘Yes, but they’ve made him leave his room and he can’t come to the ball and he’s had a massive fine. I don’t suppose he’ll care about the fine or being thrown out, but he won’t like missing the ball.’

A Rupert-free ball sounds great to me. ‘That sounds fair enough.’

‘Yes, it does. I also heard from the Sub Dean that the
Warden had to persuade Rafe not to go to the police. He wanted to sue for assault.’

‘Does peeing on someone count as assault?’ I say, scanning the news report and wincing on Letty’s behalf.

‘Spitting is, so why not? Rafe’s agreed not to press charges but Rupert still has to write a grovelling apology and pay for all Rafe’s clothes to be dry-cleaned.’

This news fills me with such childish glee I worry about myself. No more Rupert or Rafe will be one of the few joys of leaving Wyckham.

Immy peers at the image of Rupert drenching Rafe on her mobile. She rubs her finger over the tiny star that’s covering his dignity to save the blushes of readers of the ‘family newspaper’. ‘Of course,’ she says, ‘he’ll probably end up as the next prime minister. Now, if you don’t have too bad a hangover, shall we hit the shops ready for the ball?’

The next morning, I’ve just finished Skyping my parents when Immy stomps into my room and flops down on the bed in disgust.

‘Gah!’

‘What’s up?’

‘Can you believe it? After I managed to wangle an extra ticket for Hamish the rower from one of the ball committee, he goes and ruptures his bloody Achilles! How am I going to find someone else at such short notice? Like, who hasn’t already left or made plans or isn’t a total twat?’

‘Oh,
Immy, I am sorry.’

‘Me too. I was looking forward to having a partner. I know everyone goes in groups now and you, Alexander and the gang will be there, but still, it would have been nice. Poor Hamish.’ She sighs. ‘And I ordered a gorgeous new dress too, and you know we’re booked in to the salon?’