by Lisa Tuttle
School lunch couldn’t be counted as a date by anyone. She nodded. ‘I always have lunch with Rose Durcan.’
‘Well, that’s fine,’ he said easily. ‘She’s in our English class, too – I’m sure she’ll have something to say on the subject.’
‘Okay.’ Olivia looked relieved. ‘I – we’ll be at one of the tables on the side terrace.’
‘There’s supposed to be a cold front coming in.’
Olivia shrugged. ‘So we’ll wrap up.’ She looked around. ‘Rose? What are you doing way over there? Come on, let’s go!’
*
At the end of the week Rose went with Olivia to pick up the invitations from the printer. Like most aspects of the Midwinter Ball, the invitations were an unchanged tradition. They were engraved in the old-fashioned way, hand-set by the same elderly printer who had done the job as an apprentice just after World War Two.
Rose ran her fingertips over the creamy card, feeling the faint raised bumps of the lettering. ‘They feel expensive.’
‘They are. I tried suggesting to the G-M that modern colour photocopying would do the same job, and the money saved could be donated to the charity that the ball is supposed to be in aid of, but they nearly fainted en masse. These things’ – she gave the box she’d just loaded into her car a flick with finger and thumb – ‘are magic objects. They’re talismanic, like those things archeologists dig up and can’t begin to identify except to say “presumably of some ritual significance”. They signify your right to attend the Midwinter Ball. If you have one, you get in. If you don’t, then nothing can change your fate. No ticket, no entry.
‘There was a terrible hoo-ha a few years ago when some guy’s dog ate his invitation. He went along to the dance anyway, of course, and couldn’t believe it when the sweet little old granny on guard-duty wouldn’t let him in.’
Rose giggled, not entirely believing the story. ‘What about his date?’
‘Oh, she was all right. Her name was listed when she bought the tickets, and she still had hers.’
‘So, is your computer program going to make any difference?’
‘Maybe, as a fall-back measure, if something like that happened again, and the guy’s name was on the list. Of course it’ll only work if the ladies who buy the tickets actually register the names of their dates with the committee in advance, and I don’t know how many of them will bother. I will.’
‘So will I.’
Olivia shot her a pleased and startled smile. ‘Good for you! Who’s the lucky guy?’
Rose laughed. ‘Only Simon, I’m afraid. He’s quite keen to go—’
‘And see our quaint native rituals at first hand? I thought he didn’t like to dance?’
Rose was surprised Olivia remembered that detail out of the many stories she’d told her about her brother. ‘He doesn’t like to dance with me. Maybe I could swap partners with you? Or maybe we’ll just watch.’
‘You’re too good a dancer to just watch.’
‘I’m not.’
‘I saw you with Orson, waltzing around the room like Cinderella and the prince.’
Rose felt her cheeks heat at Orson’s name and hoped Olivia wouldn’t notice. ‘He makes it seem so easy. I’m sure we couldn’t compare to you and Orson dancing together.’
‘It’s such a wasted opportunity.’
‘What is?’
‘You taking your own brother to the ball. There must be somebody you’d rather go with.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Think a little harder.’ Olivia’s voice was teasing. ‘Somebody you enjoy dancing with, and talking to, and talking about. I know you think he’s handsome, and sensitive, and intelligent, because you’ve told me so. What I think doesn’t matter. And he obviously likes you, since he’s managed to track you down at lunch-time three days running …’
Rose’s heart leaped and plunged again as she understood. ‘No! Oh, no! Orson isn’t interested in me; it’s you he likes!’
‘Give me a break! He just wanted to pick my brains about Moby Dick – nothing romantic about that! You’re the reason he came back the next two lunch-times. I don’t know if it was your incisive comments about Ahab and Queequeg, or if he realized how much he liked dancing with you, but you’re the one he’s interested in. He looks happy when he’s talking to you; he’s not all stiff and formal like he is with me.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Rose said, her heart racing and her face blazing. ‘I’m sure he fancies you.’
‘Oh, Rosy, Rosy, we’re going to have to do something about your self-esteem! What makes you think he prefers me to you? Why on earth should he?’
For a moment Rose was speechless. She considered confessing all: the idea of being able to talk about it to Olivia, to get her help and advice, was very tempting. But it was a long story, and already they were approaching the turn-off to the Mason house. And whatever she said about herself, Rose couldn’t betray Orson’s confidences. Instead she said, ‘Farren Wiles told me that Orson’s in love with you.’
Olivia let out a peal of laughter. ‘Farren Wiles! That little piece of mischief! Why’d you want to believe him?’
‘He’s Orson’s closest friend.’
‘Oh, yes. Whereas you hardly know either of them. So why would he tell his best friend’s best-kept secret to you? You must have been asking him about Orson in a very particular way … like you cared.’
Olivia halted the car in front of the closed gates, let down her window and called out confidently, ‘It’s me, Olivia, with my friend Rose Durcan.’
As they waited for the gates to open, Olivia turned and grinned wickedly at Rose. ‘Rose, honey, if your cheeks get any redder we could sell you for ketchup. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’ve been trying to talk me into dating, so now you’re going to take your own advice and let him know you’re interested. We’ll make it a double date. You and Orson are going to be the cutest young couple at the Midwinter Ball!’
10 Love’s Confusion
A meeting of the Granny Mafia was in progress when Rose and Olivia entered the sitting room with the boxes of invitations. A sample had to be extracted and passed around so that each old lady could examine it closely enough to ensure that it didn’t deviate in any way from the standard.
Malcolm Watts, impeccably attired in a dark suit, was pouring tea and handing cups around, but Rose noticed that his attention was not on the old ladies but on Olivia. It made Rose uneasy. Poor Jennifer.
After they’d escaped upstairs, Olivia let out a sigh and gave an exaggerated shudder. ‘Whew. I’ll be glad when he’s gone!’
‘Malcolm?’
‘Did you see …’
‘I did.’
They went into Olivia’s bedroom and she shut the door behind them. ‘I’ve been avoiding him, but this morning he caught me alone for a minute in the breakfast room. He asked me to go out with him on Saturday night. I told him I was busy. He asked me when I wasn’t busy, just to name a day. I reminded him that I didn’t date. He begged me to give him a chance. He was practically on his knees, Rose! I felt like throwing up!’
Rose gave a snort of sympathy and dismay. ‘I thought he was supposed to be dating Jennifer Banks!’
‘Well, he didn’t mention that. If I’d known, I guess I could have thrown it in his face, but I’m sure he would have told me it didn’t mean anything, and offered to sacrifice her on the altar of our love …’
‘Did he actually say he loved you?’ asked Rose, horrified.
‘I don’t believe he actually used the L-word, but the implication was there. I told him that I was very sorry, but I couldn’t possibly date someone who worked for the family, so would he please not bother me again. And then he let me go, and I went and drove myself to school, while he went straight upstairs to Nanny and gave notice.’
‘He quit?’
Olivia nodded unhappily. ‘Not that I’ll be sorry to see him go. He agreed to stay through the weekend; I got the impression that he would have walked o
ut this morning if she hadn’t insisted.’
‘He quit his job in the hope that you’d go out with him?’ Rose gazed at her friend in awe.
‘Maybe it’s egotistical of me to imagine the two events are connected. He told Nanny he was going back to college in the New Year, and that he needed the time to study and get ready. I don’t know; I’d have thought if he was going back to school in January he’d need all the money he could make.’
‘Maybe he’s got another job that pays better.’
‘Who knows. I’m sure not sorry he’s leaving. But I’ll bet I haven’t seen the last of him.’
‘Poor Olivia,’ Rose said, unable to keep a faint trace of resentment from her tone. ‘How awful it must be to have everyone in love with you.’
Olivia made a face at her. ‘Be fair. I’ll bet you wouldn’t want Malcolm Watts mooning around after you. And Orson isn’t in love with me. I don’t care what Farren told you. Orson likes the way I look, that’s all. He doesn’t know the real me. If he knew what I was really like inside, he’d run a mile!’
Although she’d had similar thoughts, Rose had to protest. ‘Now who’s got self-esteem problems! If you gave him the chance to really get to know you, he’d be as fond of you as I am!’
Smiling at some secret, Olivia shook her head. ‘He knows me better than he thinks he does. We’ve met in Illyria, and your precious Orson – Count Orsini, as he is there – doesn’t like me at all!’
Rose stared at her in astonishment. ‘You go to Illyria? But you said – I mean, the things you’ve said about computer nerds …’
‘When all along, I’m a closet nerd? I know, I know …’ Olivia smiled ruefully. ‘You shouldn’t take everything I say so seriously. I have moods, like everybody else. I was probably hating myself whenever I said that, making a resolution to spend my time constructively, working on French or math, or reading one of the great books instead of playing in a MUD or chatting to complete strangers all over the world for hours every night.’
‘I didn’t think you had time to surf the Net.’
Olivia shrugged. ‘So who needs sleep?’
‘You go to Illyria? Regularly? You said it was a waste of time.’
Olivia sighed. ‘Please, don’t keep throwing my words back at me. I was wrong. That’s what I thought at first. All last year when Illyria was being set up, I stayed away. I decided I was too good for the computer club. But then I thought I might as well check it out, just once, and am I ever glad I did.’ She came over and sat beside Rose on the bed. ‘You know Illyria?’
Rose nodded. ‘I never said anything about it, because I thought you’d be bored.’
‘How funny that we’ve never met there,’ said Olivia with a little burst of excited laughter. ‘Or maybe we have! Oh, I’m so glad, Rosy – I’ve been needing to talk to someone … I was going to tell you anyway, but I wasn’t sure you’d understand. But you know what it’s like on-line – how you start out playing a part, and then it turns real. And now it’s the realest thing of all.’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth, then let it go and expelled her breath in a sigh.
‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you about Illyria, too,’ Rose began, but Olivia, caught up in her own internal drama, didn’t seem to hear.
‘I’ve fallen in love,’ Olivia blurted.
Rose stared at her, astonished. ‘Really? You mean – on-line? In virtuality?’
‘Yes.’ Olivia covered her face with her hands for a moment. ‘You were right and I was wrong. I thought I was bullet-proof. I thought I could resist it until the time and the place were right. And all along, I just hadn’t met that bullet with my name on it.’
‘You make it sound so … fatal.’
‘That’s how it feels.’ Olivia jumped off the bed and began to pace the room. She stared at her computer as if her lover were locked inside.
‘Who is he?’ asked Rose.
‘I don’t know,’ she said flatly. ‘He teases me so. I don’t know his real name, or where he lives, or even what he really feels about me. He’s clever, sensitive, funny, mysterious, romantic – sometimes. Other times he acts like he hardly knows me. It started out as a game, and maybe it still is for him, but for me it’s turned real, and it hurts. These feelings … It’s the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me, but it could turn out to be the worst.’
‘It might be, but I think you have to risk it.’
Olivia laughed shortly. ‘I’m not planning on giving him up!’
‘I meant more than that. Don’t you think it’s time to take the next step?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Have you asked him his real name?’
‘No.’
‘Well, why don’t you? Find out who he is and where he lives and arrange to meet him.’ Olivia was staring at Rose as if her suggestion was completely crazy. ‘Well, why not? Don’t you want to see how your love translates into the real world? It shouldn’t be too hard to arrange a meeting. You said you met in Illyria? He must be a student somewhere in the state.’
‘What an innocent you are, my Rose.’
‘What do you mean? Access is restricted to students.’ Even as she spoke, Rose remembered that it was Simon who had first told her about Illyria.
‘In your dreams. Anybody who really wants to can get in. All you need is the access code – which I happened to see posted on a bulletin board once, in case anybody else was curious – and a student ID number, which you could probably make up if you didn’t happen to know somebody who had one. Not that Illyria is such a hot destination spot to the hordes of Net-surfers, not when there are so many other virtual worlds to explore. Most outsiders wouldn’t bother to come back after one visit. But some might. And if my virtual love is really a forty-something pervert with an interest in sweet young girls, I’d rather not know. Don’t look so horrified. I’ve got it under control. Anyway, chances are he is a student, like me. But with my luck, instead of being a handsome, eighteen-year-old planning to go into Pre-Med at some Ivy League college next year, he’d turn out to be an extremely overweight fourteen-year-old comic book collector.’
‘So you’re not going to risk it.’
‘Absolutely not. Why ruin a good fantasy with reality? I don’t want to know who he really is. I like my Roberto just the way he describes himself on my screen.’
Rose’s mouth went dry. She wanted to believe she hadn’t heard correctly, but she knew she had. ‘Roberto,’ she said numbly.
‘Yes – have you met him?’ Eagerly, Olivia crossed the room to sit on the bed beside her. ‘Have I met you? What’s the name of your character? I call myself the CyberQueen.’
*
Orson had decided it was time to take the next step. He had taken Ro’s advice about pursuing Olivia more actively; now he was going to apply the same technique to Roberto. It was time to unmask and meet in the real world. He didn’t know how Ro would take it. He’d always been so careful about giving away any personal details. Maybe the guy wasn’t straight, maybe that was it. It could be that he thought Orson would reject him if he knew the truth. Maybe he had a disability, or was sensitive about his looks, his weight, his race, his family background …
Orson believed he had considered all the possibilities, and he also believed that nothing would affect his feelings. He didn’t spell it all out for Roberto like that; he didn’t want his friend to think he’d been spending a lot of time brooding over his possible looks, race or sexual preference. It might seem kind of creepy. They were two guys, after all, and this was a friendship, not a romance. And it was crazy for two friends not to meet.
Dear Ro,
I think it’s time we took the next step, don’t you? Meeting you in Illyria was cool, and I’ve really enjoyed our exchange of views via e-mail. Over the past two months I have come to feel that you are my closest friend. I don’t believe that anyone, in or out of cyberspace, knows me better than you do. But …
You know my name and where I go to school, two basic facts
I don’t know about you. I know lots of other, possibly more important, things about you, of course: your taste in music and books and films; that you don’t have a car but are learning to drive; that you once had a fox cub for a pet; that you’re opposed to violence, racism and cruelty to animals; that you feel an unrequited love for someone who loves someone else. You have shared all this, and so much more, with me – so what is the big deal about your identity? You’re not Batman, are you? Does Ro stand for Robin?
Let’s meet this weekend. I can borrow the car on Sunday, and I will drive to wherever you are, no matter how early in the morning I have to get up. Tell me where to go.
If you don’t want to meet me, that is your choice. If your privacy is more important to you than our friendship, tell me now and I won’t bother you again. I’ll miss you, Roberto, if that is your choice. Our friendship began as a game in Illyria, but it has become real – or so I feel. If I am wrong, do me a favour and end it now.
Your friend, Orson Banks.
11 Death in Illyria
How could she tell Olivia the truth? Her friend had said she didn’t want to know Roberto’s RL identity; she wouldn’t thank her for the revelation. It might even mean the end of their friendship. Better to say nothing. That way, Olivia wouldn’t lose Roberto, and Rose wouldn’t lose Olivia.
She made up a character on the spur of the moment, choosing a name from a long-ago game with Simon. ‘Serenthia, I’m Serenthia when I go to Illyria.’
‘I don’t think we’ve met, then. How about Roberto – does he know Serenthia?’
Rose nodded.
Olivia scowled fiercely. ‘She’d better not make any moves on my man! I don’t know what Serenthia’s special talents are, but the CyberQueen would break all her bones, roast her and have her for breakfast if she gets too friendly with Roberto!’
Rose felt she was suffocating. ‘Does Roberto, um, return your feelings?’
