by Lulu Taylor
Claire comes up to Francesca. She looks, Francesca thinks, distinctly ordinary although she’s made an effort in a bright red satin dress with a matching jacket, her blonde hair in a kind of messy updo, and lipstick to match the dress, which is a mistake. Claire says admiringly, ‘Cheska, you look gorgeous, you really do.’
Francesca smiles modestly but knows she looks polished and put-together next to Claire. ‘Thanks. I found the shoes second-hand.’ She lifts one to show it. ‘Real sixties shoes.’
‘Did you? That’s clever! I’d never think of second-hand shoes. You can’t help imagining verrucas, can you?’ Claire wrinkles her nose and laughs. Dan looks over from where he is sitting talking to Stevie, and blows out a stream of cigarette smoke in their direction.
Francesca has the sudden urge to whack Claire across the face, but she restrains it and instead says placidly, ‘They’re from Harrods, so I don’t think it’s an issue.’
Jimmy comes over to top up their glasses. ‘How’s my little scarlet sex kitten?’ he says, kissing Claire’s cheek as he pours champagne for her. ‘You look ravishing.’
Claire giggles and raises her eyes at Francesca as if to say, What is he like? But Francesca knows she adores Jimmy. Francesca lets him fill her glass, and compliment her extravagantly too, but the person she is really aware of is Dan. He is coming to the ball single tonight, since he split up with his last girlfriend – a loathsome girl called Emma – on a ticket shared with Stevie, who is habitually single. Stevie works so hard as a medic student that his preferred way of unwinding is with a lot of drink, some drugs and whoever is in the mood for him that night.
That’s fine. Francesca has her back to Dan and Stevie as they sit at a table, talking and smoking, but she knows exactly what’s going on. He can keep Dan out of trouble and then, later, he can go off with someone he picks up at the ball.
She isn’t going to talk to Dan yet. Besides, she’s going to play hard to get tonight. At first. She knows he expects her to come running whenever he clicks his fingers, so she’s going to try ignoring him and see what happens.
In the event, just keeping her back to him at the pub works better than she could have expected. As they make their way along the cobbled streets towards the college, she finds Dan walking beside her.
‘Would you like an arm?’ he asks gallantly, holding his elbow out towards her. ‘These cobbles are tricky in heels, aren’t they? Although you’re obviously making it look easy. You’re gliding along like a duchess at Versailles.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiles and puts her hand on the rough wool of his dinner jacket. He is even more handsome in his evening clothes, a blue silk bow tie matching his eyes.
‘May I say you’re looking exquisite this evening.’ He casts his gaze down over the shimmering emerald silk of her dress. ‘Really lovely.’ There’s a tone of the very slightest surprise in his voice, but she doesn’t mind. This is how it’s supposed to go. Tonight he’s going to see her differently for the very first time.
‘How kind,’ she says dreamily, as though barely hearing him. Then she turns and gives him a sweet smile. ‘Dan, do you mind if I desert you for a moment? I must have a word with Stevie.’ She takes her hand from his arm, gathers up her skirts and runs lightly away along the cobbles to where Stevie is walking alone, smoking, his shoulders hunched and his hand in his pocket.
This is the other part of her plan. She will give the attention she usually gives to Dan to someone else, and see what he makes of it.
At the college, they meet up with Alyssa and some of her crowd from another college. Francesca scans them anxiously looking for competition but no one is dazzling enough to prove too much of a threat. Though there’s no telling with Dan, of course. His eye is a very wandering one, and there are so many willing targets. But she has a feeling that she has piqued his interest tonight, and she takes care to keep her distance, all the while maintaining her sparkling, sweet, smiling exterior, accepting all the compliments coming her way with a demure and girlish air.
They go into the ball and begin to explore. The college has been transformed into a funfair, with stalls and rides, a casino and several themed bars. There are tents on the lawns for dining and dancing. Magicians wander around performing tricks, and acrobats stun with their agility on tightropes strung over the quad. Fire-eaters douse flaming torches in their throats and pretty girls ride standing up on white ponies with glittering headdresses.
They go in for their dinner sitting, placed around a table in the stuffy tent, the ice bucket in the middle crammed with bottles. Francesca makes sure to sit across from Dan, where he can see her but not speak to her without shouting over the bouquet of bottle necks between them. Dinner is perfectly acceptable – the usual college mass catering – but nothing special. They drink with more enthusiasm than they eat, and smoke between courses.
When dinner is finished, it’s after ten o’clock and time to start enjoying the real fun of the ball. Francesca has been talking and flirting with Stevie, who seems mildly surprised and rather pleased by the attention he is getting. Now she begs him to take her on the dodgem cars that are set up on the back meadow, and they all go there. She gets into a car with Stevie, tucking her silk skirt under her and squealing as he steers them violently around the floor, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, his bow tie already hanging loose around his neck. Dan is in another car with Alyssa, and Jimmy and Claire in another. The floor is full of metallic shiny cars shooting back and forth, ramming into each other and flying around. Francesca realises with glee that Dan is steering his car after theirs, or cutting a corner to spin round into them and crash head on.
‘Fuck off, Felbeck, you bastard!’ roars Stevie. ‘I’ll have you!’ and for a while they chase Dan, who seems to enjoy fleeing from them in sharp twists of the steering wheel. He looks so handsome, Francesca’s insides go hot and melt a little more every time she sets eyes on him. It is a feeling she enjoys.
When the dodgems are over, she takes Stevie by the hand and they go to the next ride, the helter-skelter, and after that, the merry-go-round, and then the swingboats. The others seem content to follow where she and Stevie are leading and they are all laughing and enjoying themselves. The last of the big rides is the Ferris wheel, set up so that the little rocking cars will give the ball-goers a splendid view of the college below and the vibrant, fairy-lit proceedings there.
‘Come on, Stevie,’ Francesca says, running for a seat in the car at the bottom. ‘Let’s ride up together.’
A voice at her side says, ‘Actually, I’ll take this one,’ and Dan is there, climbing in beside her, while Stevie shrugs and waits for the next car to come along. They move up one shunt, so that they aren’t far from the ground. Francesca, alive with excitement, and full of the power of her femininity, says nothing but inside she is revelling. She has Dan alone with her on the Ferris wheel, at his instigation. Oh, this night is perfect already. It’s completely perfect. But I mustn’t spoil it.
Playing it cool has got her this far, so she will carry on.
Without a word, Dan hands her a bottle of white wine he has been carrying and she takes a swig. They move another few feet into the air, the chair rocking gently under them. Soon all the chairs will be refilled with fresh riders and then they will start to turn properly. They have at least twenty minutes together, she reckons. There’s no hurry. She passes the bottle back to Dan. They are both pleasantly drunk, uninhibited but perfectly capable of normal conversation. Still she says nothing.
Dan takes the bottle and has another swig himself. The chair shunts on. Then he leans over to her and says in a low voice, ‘What’s the idea?’
‘What do you mean?’ she asks lightly, smoothing her skirt. She gazes out at the Cambridge summer night. ‘Isn’t this beautiful? Look at the view!’
‘Don’t change the subject, my dear,’ he says strictly. ‘What is the big idea?’
He is quite drunk, she realises, from the way he is carefully enunciating his words.
&n
bsp; She looks at him over one bare white shoulder. ‘You’ll have to explain.’
‘With Stevie,’ he says patiently. ‘Are you going to get off with him?’
She doesn’t answer at once. Part of her brain is filled with scorn, both for him and for her. Why hadn’t she done something like this before? Was it really so easy – all she had to do was play hard to get, flirt with another man and goad him to win her? But mostly she is thrilled and excited at what might be about to happen. He has never expressed any interest in her romantic life before.
‘Well?’ He passes her the bottle again and she takes another drink, not much this time. She doesn’t want to get too drunk. It’s still early. The ball goes on until sunrise.
‘I’m not sure,’ she says. ‘Maybe.’
The chair shunts for the last time, and then the ride begins in earnest, the little swings sailing smoothly up into the night air. They will go around twice or three times before they start the process of disembarking in the same order, so that every chair gets the chance to halt at the top and rock there like a little cradle, the occupants enjoying the view spread out below.
They ride in silence, enjoying the peace up here, with the noise of the ball rising and falling in waves as they go round. Then the cars come to a stop again. The first riders start to climb out, letting new ones in.
‘So,’ Dan says languidly, ‘you haven’t answered my question, Cheska. What are you going to do tonight? Are you going to snog our friend Stevie?’
‘I told you, I haven’t decided.’ She shrugs lightly. ‘Anyway, what does it matter to you?’
He leans towards her, his expression earnest. His nearness is almost too much to bear. ‘Because you’re my supervision partner and therefore I have a responsibility towards you.’
She laughs. ‘Oh, you do, do you?’
‘Yes. I do. Ask any supervisor. It’s the rule.’ He sits back in the chair just as they swing upwards another level, almost at the top now. Once they are there, they will be invisible to everyone.
‘Well, it’s very sweet of you but I don’t need looking after.’
‘I’m not sure about that,’ he says. ‘You don’t know what Stevie’s like. He’s an animal.’
‘Whereas you are the perfect gentleman.’ She shoots him another coquettish look. ‘At least I know I have nothing to fear from you.’
‘Oh, really?’ He smiles, his eyes narrowed, looking at her in an appraising way she has never seen before, one that makes her skin tingle and sends a fizz of pleasure shooting around her stomach like a pinball in a machine.
‘We’ve been friends all this time,’ she says softly, ‘and you’ve never tried anything before now.’
The chair jerks lightly upwards. They are at the top, swinging gently, unseen by everyone. He leans towards her again, his arm resting behind her shoulders.
‘Maybe that was my mistake.’
She shuts her eyes, and breathes out slowly. This is her dream, happening now. Actually happening. The next moment, she feels his hand on her jaw, turning her face gently towards him and his lips land on hers, kissing her. It’s the most wonderful kiss she’s ever known: his soft mouth against hers, then their lips opening to each other, and the meeting of his velvet tongue, the unbearably delicious taste of him, the scent of his skin close to hers. Everything in her wants to yield to him and possess him at the same time. A voice in her head says, At last. At last he’s seen me. He’s really seen me. He feels the same way.
They kiss, deeply, until the car jerks again and they move downwards. Now there are only a few minutes until they reach the bottom and have to disembark. They part slowly, drawing away from one another as their eyes stay locked.
‘So, have I dissuaded you from Stevie?’ he asks with a grin, stroking her bare shoulder with his fingertip.
‘Hmm. I’m not sure.’ She wonders if she has any lipstick left now that she has been so wonderfully and completely kissed. Someone seems to have lit a row of sparklers in her belly and they are fizzing and glittering delightfully. She wants to be kissed again as soon as possible.
‘Not sure?’ He raises his eyebrows. ‘I must be losing my touch.’
‘You must be,’ she returns. They can be seen from the ground now, and she knows there’s no question of another kiss. ‘May I have another drink, please?’
He passes her the bottle and she takes a deep draught, then sighs. The evening, so far, is bliss.
On the ground, they act as though nothing has happened. She plays a more delicate game now, withdrawing her attentions a little from Stevie, though not completely, and turning them more to Dan, but not so much as to make him think she is a done deal. She intends for him to chase her, and he does. The kiss must have pleased him. When they go to the tent to watch the headline act, a famous band performing their biggest hits, he dances with her although she makes sure to spin away and dance with the others too. But she is triumphant. He wants her still.
Dan is hot and sweaty in his dinner jacket. He heads to the bar at the back of the tent for a drink and she takes her opportunity, following him. He glugs down a glass of water, and buys a bottle of champagne for them all to share. As he goes to leave the bar, she grabs his hand, stands on tiptoe so she can bring her mouth to his ear, and says, ‘Why don’t we take that outside?’
He looks down at her with a knowing half-smile and nods. They go together through the back door of the marquee and head out into the soft summer darkness.
She already knows where she will take him. It is all planned. At the side of the college there is a walled garden, closed to ball-goers, but with a little gate that is seldom locked. There in the garden they will have some privacy. She takes him to the big oak tree that grows at the back, and they sit together under its spread of branches, in the semidark. Stars glitter high above them in the blue night and a gibbous moon shines its three-quarter light. Dan pops the champagne and hands her a plastic cup he took from the bar. They light cigarettes and smoke them, talking lightly about nothing much, letting the tension between them rise pleasurably.
‘So,’ he says when he’s stubbed out his cigarette, ‘did you like our kiss?’
‘Of course.’ She lies back beside him on the cool grass, her shoulder blades resting against the softness, her arms raised above her head in abandon. ‘Did you?’
‘Too much,’ he says.
‘Oh. Good.’ She smiles at him, winsome.
‘Who are you, Francesca?’ he asks, picking a blade of grass and running it down her face and over her nose.
‘Who do you want me to be?’
‘What kind of answer is that?’
‘I want to be the girl you kiss tonight.’ And every night.
‘I think we can arrange that.’ He moves towards her and slowly, tantalisingly, he puts his mouth on hers and kisses her. She knows she is lost.
They lie on the grass for a long while afterwards. She pulls her skirts back down and gets him to zip up the back of her dress. The mood has changed since the passion built up between them is spent. She feels luxurious and complete but he seems melancholy and a little distant.
‘Are you all right?’ she asks, taking a cigarette from him and lighting it. After all, she thinks, what is living if not smoking a cigarette and drinking champagne after making love in a Cambridge garden to the man you adore? The thought makes her want to laugh.
‘Of course.’ He lights his own cigarette and they both sigh out smoke on long exhalations.
She hums lightly and reaches for the champagne. The night is not over yet. They smoke for a while, passing the bottle between them.
‘Cheska,’ he says carefully after a while, when they have stubbed out their cigarettes.
‘Yes?’
‘You know what just happened . . .’
‘Yes.’ She giggles throatily. ‘Of course.’
‘I . . . I shouldn’t have done it.’
She freezes. ‘What? What do you mean?’
‘I don’t mean it wasn’t lovely,’ he s
ays hastily. ‘It was. But . . . we got carried away a little. By the night and the way things have been for us, our friendship.’ He laughs a little sheepishly. ‘I guess this was bound to happen. But it’s a kind of goodbye, isn’t it?’
She stares at him in shock. In her fantasy, this was the beginning of their life together, not the end. Once they kissed, he would know it was right. He would understand the power of their connection, the inevitability of their being together. He looks away as though he can’t take the expression on her face.
‘Dan.’ She moves towards him on the grass, taking his hand. ‘What are you saying?’
‘You know this is just a one-off . . . a lovely, sweet happening but only for tonight . . . You understand that, don’t you, Cheska?’
Grief wells up in her. All her pleasure drains away as though it has never been there at all. Nothing seems to have any point if she can’t have Dan. She lifts his hand and presses it to her face, kissing it, tenderly at first and then with passion. Is this really the last time he will be hers? Can it really have been so brief? It’s too much to bear. Tears rise up in her and pour from her eyes, wetting his hands and trickling through his fingers.
‘Oh, Cheska, little Cheska,’ he says gently, as if moved by her sadness.
‘Dan . . .’ She looks up at him, her eyes wet. ‘I love you. You know that. I always have, since the first day I saw you. I’m not like those other girls, the ones who fall at your feet and fancy you rotten because you’re handsome. I love you – you. I know you’re arrogant and selfish and conceited, but you’re also clever and sweet and talented. I know everything about you. My world revolves around you. I can’t live without you. I’ll do anything, anything.’
She knows she’s abasing herself, undoing everything she tried to achieve earlier, but she can’t help it. He has to know now, here, in this beautiful garden, because this is her last chance and she knows that her grief is touching his heart. She bows her head over his hand again, holding it to her heart. His lips touch her head, and then his hand strokes her hair and her neck.
