by Alison May
She’s still not making eye contact, but she hasn’t stormed off yet. ‘Don’t you think Dominic has a right to know?’
‘Probably, but what would the point be? It was before we were engaged.’ Admittedly only about five hours before we got engaged, but I’m not going to dwell on that. ‘And it would hurt him. What’s the point in hurting Dom so that we get something off our chests?’
‘Don’t say “we”.’
‘What?’
‘You said “so that we get it off our chests.” We’re not a “we.” You did this. I’m not part of it.’
‘I know.’ I don’t know what else to say. ‘Please don’t tell Dom.’
She sighs. ‘I’m still thinking about it.’
I open my mouth, but she puts her hand out.
‘Don’t. Don’t say any more.’ She walks away to the other side of the room, and I’m alone.
Alex
Helen. Helen. Alex rolled the name around inside his head. Good old Helen. Reliable Helen. Wonderful Helen. Bewitching Helen. He watched his landlady walk across the room, sipping her punch. Actually, surprisingly hot Helen. He watched her swallow and saw her chest rise and fall at the top of her corset. Her cleavage was amazing. This was it, wasn’t it? On this night, with all this noise, and music, and people, and the scent of the flowers filling his nostrils – this was the story he would be telling his grandchildren fifty years hence. Maybe without the bit about her cleavage. The grandchildren might get weirded out by too much chat about Nana’s boobs.
He would go to her, he decided. He would declare his undying love which had started ... Alex stopped and thought about it. He would go and declare his undying love which was definitely eternal and therefore must, he reasoned, have started ages ago. He took a step, and paused for a moment while the room wobbled around him. Not to worry. A bit of light instability in the furnishings wouldn’t distract him from his quest. His quest to ... he paused and looked around. There she was again. Helen. His quest for Helen. Boobs and undying love and lovely lovely Helen. He made it over to her.
‘Helen.’
She twisted to face him. ‘Oh man, you’re drunk, aren’t you?’
‘I’m intoxicated on love.’
She frowned. ‘I thought we’d sworn off love?’
‘No.’ Alex was adamant. ‘Can’t swear off love. All you need is love.’
Helen shook her head. ‘Come on. I’ll take you to get some fresh air.’
He let her take his hand and lead the way out to the terrace and then onwards into the garden. She stopped by a bench overlooking a small lake. ‘Sit down. See if you sober up.’
Alex slumped onto the seat. ‘Sit by me. There’s stuff I need to tell you.’
Helen sat at the far end of the bench. ‘Like what?’
She rolled her shoulders to get comfortable sitting down, making her boobs do the amazing rising and falling thing again. Alex grinned.
‘About love. About you and me and love and ...’ He gazed out across the lake, down towards the woodland at the end of the park. ‘About everything.’
‘What about everything?’
‘You and me.’
‘What about us?’
‘I think we should give it a go.’
Helen was sitting sideways on the bench, leaning on the back, half turned back towards the party. He got the impression she was only half listening. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay?’
She turned back to him. ‘Sorry. What?’
‘You and me. We’re gonna give it a go?’
Helen’s mouth dropped open. ‘Give what a go?’
Alex paused. Right. He was going to have to propose this again, and he was going to do it properly. ‘You look amazing tonight.’
‘I should think so, after the amount of time you made me spend getting ready.’ Helen peered at him. ‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘I feel incredible.’ It was true. Helen’s face swam in front of him. So pretty, and so kind. Kindness. That was what he needed. ‘Kindness is brilliant.’
She laughed again. ‘Yeah.’
‘And you’re kind. I love kindness. I love you.’
Helen patted his cheek. ‘Of course you do.’
She wasn’t taking him seriously, was she? Words weren’t working. Alex needed to try the other thing. Not words. Actions. He steadied himself with one arm along the back of the bench and he leant in. His lips touched hers, and he felt her freeze for a moment. He pushed his mouth against hers, not too hard. He felt her lips part, just for a second, before hands pushed at his chest.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Kissing you.’
Helen jumped away from the bench. ‘Well obviously. Why?’
Alex’s brain wasn’t functioning for a moment. He knew the answer to this question though. He was sure he did. In front of him Helen folded her arms across her corseted cleavage. He remembered. ‘Because I love you. I’m eternally in love with you Helen.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘S’not ridiculous. It’s romantic.’
‘You’re drunk and it is ridiculous.’
Alex started to stand up. Helen held out her hand. ‘Stay there. I’m going back inside. I think you’d be best staying here til you’ve sobered up a bit.’
She set off across the lawn. Alex watched her retreating back. He would not be staying here. He would definitely be going after her, just as soon as the ground stopped rippling under his feet like it was. As soon as that happened, he would absolutely go after her. Alex slumped back onto the bench and lay down. He might have a little minute here first.
Emily
Eventually Tania breaks away from Dad. I follow her out of the ballroom and into the foyer. I hang back as one of the guests greets her. It’s all cheek-kisses and bonhomie. If only they knew the truth.
After a minute of chit-chat she makes her excuses and sets off up the stairs. I follow again, but don’t catch up with her until we’re out of sight and earshot of anyone else. If I’m going to keep my dad out of this, everything has to stay between me and her. I wait until she’s at the door to her room. The bridal suite, for goodness sake.
‘I need to talk to you.’
She jumps. ‘Emily? I didn’t see you.’
I walk towards her. It’s like a scene from a film. I picture myself storming past her into the room and laying some truth on her. In reality, she doesn’t move out of the doorway as I walk towards her, so we end up sort of bumping awkwardly against each other for a moment, and both apologising. I kick myself. I shouldn’t be apologising. I’m here to get serious with her.
I jostle my way into the room.
‘What did you want to talk about?’
She sits down on the bed. I decide to stay standing. It feels less friendly, more in control.
‘I know, Tania.’
She looks confused. ‘You know what?’
I take a deep breath. Now I’m here I find I don’t want to think too hard about what I’m doing. It might, I realise, be viewed as being a tiny bit blackmailish. I take another breath. It’s for the greater good. I’m getting my hands dirty so my dad doesn’t get hurt. I’m his gatekeeper. It’s like telling people who phone up for him that he’s out, when really he’s avoiding them. ‘I know the truth about you Tania.’ I swallow hard. ‘Or should I say Tina?’
As soon as I say her name, her whole body stiffens, but she doesn’t reply. That’s fine. I’ve got plenty to say. ‘I found out about you. I know what you did.’
‘What do you want, Emily?’
‘I want you to go. I don’t care what you tell Dad. You don’t have to tell him anything, but you are not marrying him tomorrow. You can disappear, or you can tell him that you need some space, or that it’s all happening too quickly, or that you think you might have feelings for someone else, or you can tell him all those things, so long as you go.’
She lifts her head to look at me. ‘Gosh. Haven’t you thought of a lot of reasons not to get married.’ She
stands up. ‘You know nothing Emily. You’re jealous, and you’re immature and I’d like you to get out of my room now please.’
That wasn’t how she was supposed to respond. I’d have expected tears at getting caught out, or anger maybe. She’s icy calm. I suppose that proves me right. She’s clearly not that bothered at having to leave Dad. I stop at the door. ‘Before the morning. I want you gone before morning.’
She looks at me and shakes her head. ‘Emily, I’m going to go back to the party. If you’re sensible you’ll forget that this conversation ever happened.’
She’s unbelievable. She actually acting like I’m the one who’s done something wrong. She stalks past me, and I follow her back along the corridor and down the stairs. ‘I’m serious. If you don’t go I’ll tell Dad everything. I’ve got evidence. You won’t be able to wriggle out of it.’
She glances over her shoulder at me, but doesn’t respond, and she doesn’t look at me again until we reach the door to the ballroom. ‘Emily, your dad’s happy. Try to be happy for him.’
Who is she to be telling me how to behave? I know what she is. I know what she did. She’s the devil. I watch her walk away. A few feet into the party she’s waylaid by one of the performers who’ve been skulking around the place all evening. He grabs her hand and twirls her around to face the small audience of partygoers who have assembled around him. He leans towards her. He’s talking quite softly, close to her ear. I see her close her eyes, and few moments later her head drops forward onto her chest. The guests closer to the action giggle and whisper to one another.
I walk away. One thing stays fizzing round and around in my head. A lot of reasons not to get married, she said. Every time the words come into my mind it feels like there’s a rope tightening around my neck. I need a distraction. I grab myself a cup of punch and look around the room. I let the light and noise and colour wash over me. Whatever else she’s done, Tania can certainly throw a party. It’s like being in another world. I can’t see Dom or Helen anywhere. I scan the room again. I can’t see Alex either. That’s good. I’m a medieval princess at a mask ball. Tonight, nothing is real. Nothing is quite what it seems.
Helen
Helen went straight back into the party. Maybe the noise would drown out the sound of the Helen inside her head yelling obscenities at the Helen out there in the world. She hadn’t kissed Alex. He’d kissed her, which wasn’t the same at all, and he had been very drunk. So long as Helen hadn’t kissed him back, she decided, it barely counted as a kiss at all.
She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to drink too much at the party, but the punch was lovely. Punch wasn’t really drinking, was it? People kept telling her it was mostly fruit. Helen let a nice young man hand her another cup.
‘Having a good time?’
Dominic appeared at her elbow. He looked more than a little uncomfortable in his chainmail. He’d abandoned the helmet and there was a thin sheen of sweat sticking his hair to the side of his face. Helen shrugged. ‘The room looks nice.’
He glanced around. ‘And apart from the décor?’
She wasn’t sure what to say. Her head was spinning with Alex and her, and Alex and Emily, and Emily begging her not to say anything. Helen opened her mouth and closed it again, which Dominic seemed to interpret as simple party-weariness. ‘Do you want to get some air?’
She nodded and then remembered that Alex was probably still out there. ‘Maybe out the other way?’
‘The car park?’
‘Mmmm.’ She smiled brightly, as if going and loitering in the car park in the middle of a party wasn’t odd behaviour. ‘Emily not with you?’
She formed the words as lightly as she could. Emily was her friend. She absolutely did not hope that she’d fallen down a well.
Dominic glanced around as he held the main door open. ‘No. I don’t know where she is actually.’ His tone was grim.
Had he found out? Helen kept her voice casual. ‘No problem there is there?’
He didn’t answer straight away. ‘She’s probably dancing or something.’ He pulled a face that suggested he viewed dancing as a strange and alien activity, possibly worthy of academic interest from anthropologists but not something one would wish to engage in personally.
Outside there were three steps in front of the door, down to the gravelled car park. They sat down, next to one another, on a low wall at the top of the stairs.
‘Sorry we’ve not made a decision about the job yet.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘Ugh.’ He groaned deep in his throat.
‘What?’
‘You’re too nice. You should be furious with us. You’re clearly the best candidate. Theo should have offered you a permanent job years ago.’ Dominic shook his head. ‘No. Not even that. You should be teaching in a far better department than ours. I don’t get why you haven’t been snapped up by some other university. What about Exeter? Weren’t they expanding?’
‘I don’t know.’ Helen couldn’t make eye contact. ‘I like it here I guess.’
‘You’re insane.’
He might have been right, but Helen couldn’t leave the university. That was where Dominic was, so that was where she had to be. She had tried to get over him, but other men bored her. She thought back to the speed dating. Eighteen men she’d met and not a single one had been worth contacting again. It wasn’t a problem with the men. It was her. She’d much rather see Dominic every day, even knowing she’d never be with him. The thought popped up that she could tell him about Emily and Alex. Then maybe ... maybe once he’d got over that? She shook her head. She didn’t even have the courage to hope. Everything she felt for him had been screwed up into a tiny parcel, but instead of throwing it away, she’d kept hold of it, tight and secure in the very centre of her soul, and now it was a part of who she was.
‘Do you remember the first time we met?’
The tightly wrapped parcel unfurled a little. Helen nodded.
‘What do you remember?’
‘Third year lecture series. The last lecture on a Friday afternoon, so it was always half empty. “The witch, the wife, the madonna, the whore – Anne Boleyn and the place of women at the court of Henry the eighth.”’
‘Wow. I didn’t realise it made such an impression.’
‘I’ve still got the notes.’ She stopped. ‘I mean I’ve got all my old notes.’
‘But do you remember us actually meeting?’
She nodded. She remembered. It was the most highly valued and frequently examined few minutes of her life. ‘I didn’t pluck up the courage to come and talk to you until the end of the fourth lecture.’
He shook his head ‘Pluck up the courage?’
‘You were scary. Really sort of intense.’
‘It was my first term teaching. I was bricking it.’
‘It didn’t show. I came to ask you to explain the assignment question, but you spent so long explaining that the cleaner came and chucked us out of the room.’
Dominic laughed. ‘And do you remember after the cleaner chucked us out?’
Of course she did. It was the thing she always tried to think about just before she fell asleep, so that she might have a chance of dreaming a better ending. It had barely even been a moment. The two of them standing in an empty corridor. For a second, not even that, a fraction of a second, she’d thought he was leaning towards her. She’d thought he was going to ... It was only a moment.
She shook my head. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Of course. It was silly anyway. I nearly asked you to go for a drink you know.’
‘I was a student.’
‘I know.’ He swallowed. ‘Anyway that wasn’t the first time we met.’
‘It was!’ Of course it was. She’d spent the last ten years thinking about it. He couldn’t tell her now that she’d been fixating on the wrong moment.
He shook his head. ‘Do you remember the start of that term? They had a sort of social thing for third years, PhD
students and staff. I think it was supposed to inspire you to think about applying for post-grad study.’
Helen remembered. ‘Yes! I had a really good talk with Dr Schaeffer about the place of gender studies within the wider humanities.’
‘You had two glasses of red wine, trapped the poor man in a corner and told him he was a puppet of the patriarchal establishment.’
‘That is not how I remember it.’
‘Well it’s what happened. I was watching.’
‘You were watching me?’
‘You were magnificent, like a lioness in full flight.’
‘Lionesses don’t fly.’
‘In full flight doesn’t mean literal flight.’
‘I think it does.’ Why was she arguing with him about this? Why wasn’t she letting him call her magnificent? ‘You noticed me?’
‘I couldn’t look at anything else.’ He laughed slightly. ‘I was devastated when you turned out to be a student. My student.’
She didn’t know what to say. He’d noticed her. He’d noticed her before she even noticed him. And they had had a moment. It wasn’t in her head. It was real. It was fleeting, but it was real. But it was still a long time ago. ‘Oh well. It all turned out for the best.’
‘What?’ He looked confused.
‘Well, you’re happy with Emily, aren’t you?’ She asked the question lightly, but Helen was making a bargain with herself in her head. If he said he was happy then she wouldn’t tell him about Emily and Alex, but if there was even the slightest hint that he wasn’t, then she had no choice, did she? Because if he was already having doubts, then it would definitely be better that he knew the truth. ‘And I’m ... I’m fine doing my thing.’
‘Of course.’
Of course. So that was that. She wouldn’t say anything, like she’d never said anything before, and Emily would get her big white wedding, and Helen would be her bridesmaid and people would make jokes about ‘always the bridesmaid’, and Helen would laugh politely to start with, and then a bit later she’d tell them off for making lazy gendered assumptions, and then, later still, she’d sneak out of the reception and cry.
