“I’ll come about midday, and we can go out for lunch.”
He held me tightly.
“I feel somehow it’ll be a late lunch. ‘Night, then, my little superstar.”
As we walked to the taxi, I felt that I was floating on air. Life couldn’t get much better than it was.
Chapter 15
In the Christmas holidays, it felt strange to be back in Beresford and seeing Nick again.
Mr and Mrs DeLisle greeted me with their usual calm courtesy, as if we had never had a break in our relationship. It was harder for my parents, who still harboured nightmare visions of their stricken daughter weeping on the sofa, but they put on a brave face, and if they didn’t exactly welcome Nick back, they were not outwardly hostile towards him.
After a few days, Nick said to me
“I’ve told mum that you’ll be staying the night with me tonight. You’d better let your parents know.”
“Doesn’t your mother mind?”
I was surprised. I could not see my mother agreeing to Nick sharing my bed at home, not that it was big enough anyway.
“No, she knows that we’re adults now.”
The thought of spending a whole night together was blissful. We had only managed it once before, when we made love for the first time, and it hadn’t been the easiest of occasions.
My mother pursed her lips a little when I told her I would be absent overnight. I made it sound as though I would be in one of the DeLisles’ spare rooms, but I don’t think she was fooled.
Mr and Mrs DeLisle were going out to a dinner dance, from which they would be late back. It seemed strange to settle down for the night with Nick, but I felt I could easily get used to it. How wonderful it was to be close to him for so long. I woke in the early hours, and lay awake, listening to the funny little noises he made in his sleep, and loving every minute.
In the morning, he nuzzled me awake, and made very sleepy, gentle love to me.
Mrs DeLisle was at home on holiday until after the Christmas period. I didn’t think I should go down to breakfast in nightwear, it seemed a bit too blatant, and so I quickly showered and dressed while Nick dozed. When I did go down to the kitchen, I was a little embarrassed when I reflected on what I had just been doing with her son, but Mrs DeLisle seemed perfectly at ease - as always.
“I’ll take a cup up for Nick, he’s not properly awake yet,” I said, blushing.
“Here you are then dear, it’s his special mug.”
Back in the bedroom, I plonked the tea down on the table by the bed.
“Come on, Nick, get up. I’m holding the fort downstairs,” I muttered in his ear.
He didn’t show much sign of moving, and I wandered back to the kitchen. Mrs DeLisle was deep in The Times, so I helped myself to some cereal, and waited for Nick to come down.
He emerged about half an hour later, just as I was beginning to wonder what to do with myself. Unlike me, he sported the just-out-of-bed look, in pyjamas and dressing gown, with tousled hair and incipient stubble. I couldn’t help thinking, with some annoyance, how much it suited him.
“At last, darling, poor Eithne’s been waiting for you for ages. And so have I - there’s some wonderful news. Rosine rang first thing this morning, and she is engaged. Won’t it be lovely to have a summer wedding?”
Nick paused over the toaster.
“Engaged? Who to? Not that terrible Charlie?”
“No, don’t be silly darling, to a very nice young man called Andrew Maynard. Dad and I have met him. He’s crazy about Rosine, and they make a lovely couple.”
Nick grunted.
“What does he do, then?”
“He’s a banker, he works in the City. They intend to stay in London after they’re married, but I think Rosine may give up her dancing.”
“She’ll be pleased to do that. A banker - very clever of her.”
Nick’s tone was cynical. Mrs DeLisle looked faintly affronted.
“Don’t be like that, Nick, they’re very much in love.”
“Yeah.”
I was surprised by this exchange, which cast a new light on aspects of Nick’s family for me.
“Will they be coming to your Boxing Day party?” I asked politely.
“Yes - which reminds me, Nick, I hope you and Eithne can help me this year, especially with the music and decorations. If you want to ask some of your friends as well, that’s fine.”
“Okay.”
Nick didn’t exactly sound enthusiastic. I played at being a good guest and asked some more questions about Rosine and Andrew while he demolished a pile of toast, and then we went back upstairs to gather my things together.
Nick sat on the end of his bed, fiddling with his guitar.
“You weren’t very nice about Rosine,” I remarked, as I zipped up my case. He snorted.
“She’s been after a rich husband for ages, lazy cow.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong in wanting to be settled - she is quite a lot older than you, after all,” I said.
He put his guitar down, and stretched, yawning.
“Listen - there’s something on at Dave’s tonight, but it’s not your cup of tea.”
He flashed an apologetic grin at me. “Why don’t you spend the night here again tomorrow? It was nice.”
“I suppose the parents might as well get used to it.”
I was going in to town, to meet Eva, I hadn’t seen her for ages. Nick reached up and tweaked my hair.
“Give my love to Little Eva, ask her to the party if you want to.”
“I might just do that.”
I leaned down, and kissed the top of his dark head.
“Have fun at Dave’s. Don’t get too stoned, will you?”
Some things would never change.
The days passed quickly. Christmas Day was more exciting than usual, as I had an aunt and uncle staying, and Nick came in at teatime with my present - a lovely leather handbag from his mother’s store.
After lunch on Boxing Day, I went round to the DeLisles’ house, to help with the party as promised. Rosine and Andrew were already there, and Rosine introduced me to her fiancé.
“It’s good to see you Eithne,” she said. “I’m surprised you’re still putting up with my little brother after the way he beha-”
Nick threw a cushion at her, and she broke off in mid-sentence.
“Piss off, Rosine.”
She returned the cushion with some force, and then ran off, shrieking, as Nick pursued her with a rolled up magazine.
Andrew and I exchanged glances.
“Brothers and sisters, eh?” he said, with a light laugh.
I thought he looked nice. He was not handsome like Nick, but had a good natured face, and his brown hair was cut shorter than was fashionable. However, he exuded an air of quiet privilege which I recognised from some of my Oxford contemporaries, and he was expensively dressed. Rosine had done well for herself.
Even better, he was clearly besotted with her. It was sweet to watch him doting on her every word and move.
“Have you known Nick for a long time, Eithne?” he asked politely.
“Well - on and off for about two years,” I replied.
“I think you’re at Oxford, too?”
“Yes. We’re both in second year,”
Good humour restored, brother and sister returned to the room, laughing. Rosine looked at me more closely.
“You’ve changed such a lot, Eithne. I do like your hair,” she said.
She turned to Andrew. “You should have seen her two years ago, such a sweet little school girl, with Alice-in-Wonderland locks, and now she’s all grown up.”
Later on I asked Rosine if her friend Martin was coming, mindful of the last party I had attended.
“Who’s Martin?”
I was surprised by this response, and wondered whether I might have dreamed the entire episode.
I had a good time at the party. It was nice to feel properly involved, and not a goggling novice like two
years before. Quite a few of Nick’s old buddies from school were there, and I was concerned at the fumes wafting from his bedroom whilst his parents entertained the chief constable below, but there was nothing I could do about it. Eventually, we rolled into bed about 3 am, too tired to do anything except sleep for once.
Back at Oxford, life settled down into a pattern of work and seeing Nick. We did not meet so frequently as in the preceding term. Nick began to be busier with his journalism, as he was hoping to get an internship with a London newspaper over the summer and needed to build up his portfolio.
I did not act again. Ben was chosen to direct an important new play for OUDS in the early summer, but there were only a few female roles, and they needed more competent actresses than me. When the college summer productions came around, I left things too late, and contented myself with enjoying the usual Oxford summer activities instead - tennis, going on the river, and outdoor parties.
Nick was overjoyed to be offered a six week placement with The Times during the long vacation. He arranged to stay with Rosine, by now the possessor of a charming house in Fulham. We attended her marriage at the beginning of July, a suitably lavish affair in which all the DeLisles appeared to their best advantage. Nick looked especially devilish and handsome in morning dress, although he made it plain he disliked all the fuss.
I decided to spend time with my girlfriends while Nick was in London, and Jo, Emily and I travelled around Europe by train, returning broke and dirty, but with a vastly improved knowledge of other countries, how to eat as cheaply as possible without actually starving to death, and how to avoid having one’s bottom or other parts of the anatomy pinched.
Third year meant serious academic study, with our final exams due in June. Nick was now sharing a flat in Norham Gardens with two other Balliol undergraduates. I could have lived out, but preferred to stay in college, where all my meals and cleaning were provided, so I could concentrate on working. However, I did quite often spend the night with Nick, slipping back in to my room in the mornings as unobtrusively as possible.
Our relationship seemed to be good and solid. There were one or two periods when I thought he seemed a little more detached from me, a little less available, and occasionally I saw him walking, or having drinks, with another girl. I wondered if he might be pursuing what I hoped were only flirtations.
I debated whether to confront him, but in the end, I decided to let things lie. When I thought his attention was wandering, I took care to let him know I was also in demand, and this brought him back to his normal affectionate self.
One cloud on the horizon was that Jo and William had gone their separate ways, after almost three happy years together. She had discovered that he was secretly seeing someone else, and then he told her that as far as he was concerned, their relationship was over. She dealt with it better than I had done when Nick and I broke up, but I knew she was very unhappy, and that made me sad too.
Christmas at Beresford followed its usual routine. My parents were anxious to know what I intended to do after university, and I explained that companies would be visiting on the spring term milk round, so undergraduates could assess the opportunities on offer.
I also visited the university careers service, where I was appalled to find that women were definitely considered second best in the hunt for jobs.
“Have you considered teaching, or secretarial work?” seemed to be the stock response from those supposedly advising us on our future life paths.
I did not want to do either, nor did I want to pursue an academic career. In the end, a friend suggested I apply to advertising agencies. This seemed to be one of the few fields where women had as many opportunities as men. I attended some presentations by London based companies, made a few applications, and after an interview, where I thought I made a complete fool of myself, but nevertheless looked very smart, I was thrilled to be offered a job as a trainee account executive by Marsham and Hunter, one of the top twenty agencies, at a salary of £1300 a year.
Nick took me out to dinner to celebrate.
”You’ve done really well, babe,” he said. It’s tough out there, and you’ll have beaten off a lot of competition.”
“I think that blue dress helped,” I said. “When do you think you’ll get something settled?”
I had happy visions of us sharing a little flat together, enjoying proper grown-up life in London. He looked cagey.
“Mmmm, I’m looking at some different options. There’s not much around at the moment. I should know where I am by next term, hopefully.”
Next term meant our final university exams. It was essential to get as much work done as possible, so most of my time was spent in the library or revising in my room. There was not much time left to see friends or boyfriend, and Nick and I would occasionally go for several days without being able to meet. It made me all the more determined to have a more regular existence together in future.
One day, I was in my room, when there was a knock at the door, and Sofia Kinski stood there.
I had seen very little of her during the last eighteen months. She’d spent most of second year at a university in Italy - she was a linguist - and this year, she was not living in college, so our paths rarely crossed. Now she loomed in the doorway, brightly dressed and exuberant as always, and I felt a tiny throb of apprehension.
“Sorry to bother you, Eithne. I can’t find anyone else in, and the machine’s empty. Can I borrow a Tampax?”
“Yes, of course.”
I went to my cupboard, and found what she wanted. Sofia cast her bag down on my bed.
“Thanks. Back in a jiffy.”
She disappeared to the loo.
I had been making a cup of coffee, and when she returned, it seemed only polite to offer her one as well.
We chatted warily for a few minutes. She was intending to use her linguistic skills working in PR after Finals, and I had no doubt that she would end up getting whatever she wanted - she had that essential ruthlessness about her. I told her about Marsham and Hunter, and she seemed impressed. After a while, she said
“And how are things with the lovely Nick?”
“Good, thanks. He’s not got a job yet, but he’s working on it.”
She regarded me with those black, devious eyes.
“It must have been nice for you, getting back together the way you did. Don’t you ever worry he’ll dump you again?”
“We’re not schoolkids any more. How’s your love life?”
“Well - men come and go. I don’t have your facility for faithfulness, I’m glad to say.”
She looked at her watch. “I should be on my way. Thanks for the coffee.”
Sofia got up, and shrugged on her jacket. I had the feeling there was something she wanted to say, but didn’t quite know how.
“One thing ...” she paused, her hand on the doorknob. “You and I are very different creatures, Eithne, but I think you’ve been very lucky to have this time here with someone you obviously adore. You might want to remember that in future.”
She was gone, leaving me apprehensive and a little puzzled. Sofia would always be a mystery to me.
Eventually, the dread week of Finals loomed. It was quite an ordeal, several days of three hour exams without a break, when, in serried ranks of desks in the gloomy, echoing surroundings of the Examination Schools, we would be tested on all we had learned over the last couple of years.
Nick finished the day before me, so I was not able to help him celebrate, but when I staggered out of my last exam, he was there with a bottle of obligatory champagne to share.
“Freedom at last. How does it feel?” he asked, giving me a hug.
“It’s wonderful. No more Beowulf,” I replied.
Simon Williamson, of all people, walked by, entwined with a red headed girl whom I recognised vaguely from lectures.
“Hi Nick, hi Eithne. Good to get it over with, isn’t it?”
He clapped Nick on the back. “By the way, great news about America
, well done.”
He was cut off by a mad whirl of celebrating students. I looked at Nick in surprise.
“What’s that about America?” I asked, with a sudden feeling of apprehension.
“Well - I didn’t want to tell you until after the exams.”
He looked away, with a slight grimace. “The fact is, I’ve been offered a job on a new magazine starting up in New York. It’s a great opportunity, I can’t turn it down.”
I was stunned into silence. He glanced at my face.
“Don’t look like that, it won’t be for ever. America’s not the moon, we can visit back and forth and call each other. I’ll certainly be at home for Christmas, to see Rosine’s baby.”
Rosine was expecting a baby in November. The thought was not very consoling.
“It’s France all over again,” I said dully, leaning against some railings.
“What? No, of course it’s not, I’m not going to walk away like that. But, listen, Eithne, you must realise that life was going to get more complicated after Oxford. We’ve had a lovely time, but things were always going to be more of a challenge afterwards.”
“I thought we were going to have a lovely time in London together,” I said.
It was a bit of a sore point with Nick that he had not been offered a job on The Times, but I imagined he had been pursuing other options in the capital.
“Well - not for a while maybe.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I thought you’d be pleased for me.”
I caught at his hand, and held it tightly.
“Well, obviously I am, but I wish it wasn’t going to take you to the other side of the world.”
All around us, people were laughing and shrieking with the animal high spirits of youth. We were the only two in the crowd with solemn faces, and I felt cheated of my celebration.
“I hate Simon Williamson,” I exclaimed petulantly. “Why couldn’t he keep his stupid mouth shut, so I could have enjoyed the end of Finals without this spoiling it?”
I don’t think Nick knew what to say. He waved the bottle of champagne.
From The Moment I Saw Him .... Page 11
