by C F Dunn
I surveyed the lump of meat sitting on the chopping board and prodded it with the knife, thinking about his betrothal to the Harrington heiress, a good union for a gentleman’s son.
His arms found their way around my waist and he kissed the back of my neck. “So you are Lady Lynes of New Hall.”
“And you’re Sir Matthew Lynes. Golly, Dad would be impressed.”
“Much good it does us, I’m afraid. Not even Henry can know. My father would have liked to have been a grandfather, to know the Lynes carried on generation after generation and with it the title. It cost him a small fortune.”
“Ah well, the title doesn’t bother me; I only married you for your money after all…”
He tickled my waist for that, and I writhed to escape. “And my culinary skills. If you are to eat tonight, that steak has to be cooked.” He let go of me and picked up a packet of green beans.
I suspended the steak between finger and thumb, inspecting it on both sides. “It’s very fatty.”
“That’s marbling.” He pointed to the fine creamy lines running through the meat. “It gives it flavour and makes it tender. This, on the other hand, is gristle, and needs cutting out, like this.” He cut at an angle through the meat and handed me the knife.
“It’s very tough,” I complained, hacking at it crossly.
“Like this, Emma,” he said patiently, and showed me again, his hand over mine. This time my knife severed tissue and soft flesh, and the smell of raw meat rose, sickly sweet. I took a shallow breath and turned my face away to find untainted air.
“Is this what a battlefield smelt like?”
He looked taken aback for an instant, then continued slicing beans before answering. “Not exactly, no – there were other smells too: sweat, horses, powder, mud – but most of all, fear.” His voice dropped. “You never forget the smell of fear.”
I concentrated on trimming the meat. “You said it was complicated, Matthew, but nothing you’ve said so far sounds out of the ordinary – if we put your circumstances aside for a moment, that is.”
“It wasn’t complicated until an incident with the Dutch in an occupation I pursued for a short period during the Dutch Wars. Then things became too warm for comfort and I disappeared again – over here for a bit, to be precise.”
“Am I supposed to know what you are referring to or do I have to guess? And why do I have the feeling that I’m not going to like what I’m about to hear?”
“Well,” he looked shifty, “you’ve heard of fireships, I expect…”
My temper flared and I slammed the knife into the steak. “What did you think you were doing in a fireship, of all things, Matthew Lynes? Life too dull for you or something?”
“It was a job that had to be done…”
“But not by you. What were you doing? Pushing your luck?”
“Along those lines, yes,” he said. At his frank confession, I simmered down. He had alluded to such things before and perhaps I shouldn’t have reacted as forcefully as I did. In some ways the thought that he had survived one of the most perilous occupations of the age brought an air of comfort with it. It hadn’t killed him then – what could kill him now?
“You promised not to put your mortality to the test,” I couldn’t help but grumble, defying his attempts to win me over that were beginning to be quite effective.
“Sweetheart, that was before I met you. Be reasonable. It was well rewarded, exciting, and I was still a young man at heart. Besides, everyone else I had known was dead so I had nothing to lose.”
“Except your life. You couldn’t have known you were fairly indestructible.” He let go of me and his hands flew as he finished preparing the meat. He tossed it into the waiting pan, watching it sear. “I still don’t; that part of my life is as yet unknown.”
I clamped my hands over my ears. “Don’t you dare; your mortality is taboo in this house. I don’t want to hear you mention it again. Understand?” He stared at the meat but didn’t seem to notice it beginning to burn. The warm room chilled. “Understand?” I tried again, hesitantly.
He came to and saw the meat. “Taboo. Got it. Aye, aye, Captain.” He flipped the steak. “We’ve forgotten to put the beans on, by the way.”
Only once I had eaten did he venture, as if in passing, “So I take it you don’t want to hear about my service in His Majesty’s navy?”
My reply was unrepeatable.
CHAPTER
21
Roadkill
I was late. Too absorbed in my own thoughts I missed the turning to Howard’s Lake and ended up on a back road I didn’t recognize, the trees bursting with leaves so I couldn’t get my bearings through the shifting foliage. And the signage was lousy. Now I regretted not letting Matthew show me how to use the integrated Sat Nav system, so eager had I been to take my car, the colour of a blue jay, out for the first time.
Shiny – like a new toy.
The yellow line of the road curved out of sight, heading back towards the mountains. At some point it must cross the head of the lake on which the college sat. By continuing this way, surely the road would take me around the far end in a long loop.
Or I could go back.
I checked the clock: either way I wouldn’t make it on time. I went on. Every now and again I caught a glimpse of the lake, sometimes closer, sometimes further away, and the odd summer lodge, hugging the shore, and then it disappeared altogether. I was about to give up and turn back, but the road suddenly straightened and dived across a narrow, wood-planked bridge barely wide enough for two cars to pass. Cautious, I slowed. The low ramparts hardly disguised the sudden drop twenty feet or so to the river below. Fast-flowing, it bulged around water-carved boulders and beaches of shingle, feeding the lake beyond. The bloodied body of a skunk lay thrown up against the farther end of the bridge where wheels had discarded it. I could smell it from here inside the car, and the stench stayed with me long after I had left its carcass and the bridge behind.
The campus seemed unnaturally quiet as students retreated to the darkest recesses on study leave. My four and I, however, had different plans.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” I plonked the assortment of pastries on my desk. “I took the wrong turning. Where’s Hannah?”
Josh raided the box for a doughnut and propped his feet on the spare chair. “She’s gonna be a bit late – freaking out about the conference. Said she’ll get here when she can. Hey, Dr D, we’ve all the time in the world, haven’t we? No sweat.”
I replied to his caustic grin by swiping his feet off the chair. “Glad you think so, Josh. I take it you’re just about done?”
He nudged the folders next to him with his elbow. “Yeah. I added that reference you suggested. You sure Shotter’s cool with this? I mean, has he had a personality transplant or have you got something on him?” Holly gave a nervous giggle, but Aydin, I noticed, waited for my reply.
I offered the others the sugary confections, licked my fingers, and fudged an answer. “I’ll introduce the conference and set the theme on the Thursday morning. Then there’ll be visiting speakers until noon. I’ll give a short lecture after lunch, after which you four will be on. That’s the plan, anyway. Josh, you’ll lead, then Holly, then you Aydin, and lastly Hannah. There’ll be the formal dinner on Friday evening, and I’ll close the conference around midday on Saturday when we’ll pack up all the delegates and send them on their merry way, replete with our combined wisdom.” I smiled with a confidence that belied the truth and hoped they wouldn’t notice the slight tremor of doubt. I needn’t have worried because Hannah came in with a flurry of paper and a bad-tempered scowl. She sat down solidly.
“What on earth’s the matter, Hannah?”
“I’m not doing it,” she stated, her jaw jutting in imitation of a piranha. “I don’t care; I’m not presenting that… that boring whale-crap at the conference.” We stared at her.
“Hannah, you’ve left it too late to change now and you’ve no time to start a new proje
ct. If you don’t finish what you’ve started, you’ll fail your post-grad studies.”
“I’ll use my other work.” She folded her arms across her chest and tried to stare me into submission, but since I had spent my youth practising that particular art form against my father, I wasn’t going to let it worry me now.
“We discussed this, Hannah,” I said evenly. “Your other research is seriously flawed. I won’t let it pass in its present state. Let me have a look at what you’ve done so far on your current project and see if it can be revitalized.”
“I don’t need your help. I’ll make it work by myself, or I’ll start something new.”
The others shifted uncomfortably and looked from her to me. Josh sat forward in his chair. “Aw, Hannah, c’mon. Dr D is just trying to help. It’d be stupid to chuck it in now. You just gotta do what it takes to pass, then you can do what you like. Isn’t that right, Dr D?”
“Something like that, Josh. Don’t let this stand in the way of your career, Hannah. Do what you need to pass, then your future is your own.”
“You didn’t though, did you?” she shot back. “You didn’t do what you were supposed to and you’ve done all right.” How in Heaven’s name did she know that? She smiled in triumph as she read my expression. “I looked you up on the net – all your work’s on there, including that research you submitted for your final examination. I know what you got away with and I saw what they said about you. If you managed it, then so can I. Or is it that you don’t want the competition?”
Aydin jumped to his feet before I could respond, his normally placid features creased with anger. “This is rudeness. You do not speak to your professor like this; it is not respectful.”
I put a steadying hand on his arm. “Aydin, it’s all right – thank you, but please, sit down.” I faced Hannah more regretfully than in irritation. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I cannot help you if that is your attitude. You’re quite right, I did submit work that broke the rules, but my research was thorough and stood up to scrutiny, as you will have seen if you read all the documentation. I told you before – you cannot let your ambition lead your research. Submit your current thesis, or nothing.”
She stood abruptly, stuffing the papers she had been holding into her stripy bag. “You’re not the only professor who can help me,” she almost spat, yanking the bag over her shoulder. She stalked out.
I rather thought I was. I had always known her to be strong-willed, but I didn’t think she would be so stubborn as to ruin her chances of graduating successfully. She wasn’t stupid – which made her outburst all the more puzzling.
“Well,” I said in the ensuing silence, “and then there were three.”
I didn’t say anything to the others but I felt like an utter failure. I’d started the year with five students. Leo had fallen by the wayside because he was downright idle, but Hannah? She had vim and vision, but she also had an ego to match and she let it get in the way of her work. She needn’t have done, and I couldn’t help but think that, had I been able to keep a closer eye on her, we could have avoided this outcome. I still harboured the faint hope that she would calm down and think about it but, by the look she had thrown me as she left the room, the chances of that happening were as remote as my winning a lottery I didn’t play.
We had a somewhat desultory tutorial where we went through the motions, but our hearts weren’t in it and we decided to call it a day and meet up later in the week. Aydin stayed back after the others had gone.
“Thanks, Aydin.”
He scratched his head through his dark, receding hair. “It is not your fault; you have tried to help her but she does not listen. It is her choice.”
“Yes, I know it is, but still…”
“You think she is like you?” He laughed when I looked at him, surprised. “I, too, have read about your career, but I have a different – what do you say? – a different view, a different perspective. I think that we have to make choice of how we see things and then what we do about them. I think that Hannah is wrong about you – that is my view.”
“Thanks,” I said again.
He shrugged. “I would not be here if it was not for your perspective.” No, he probably wouldn’t be; he had nearly given up back in the autumn, and then there had been the incident with the police. “I have much to thank you for,” he continued, then leant forward and shyly kissed me on both cheeks. “Thank you for believing me.” He had almost left the room when he added with a grin, “You know, in my country, a husband would kill a man for kissing his wife. Do not tell Dr Lynes. I do not want to be shark-food.”
It might indeed be Hannah’s choice, but knowing it didn’t make me feel any better. I mooched across the hall to Elena’s tutor room and found her engrossed. She slung her bag over one shoulder and visibly brightened at the suggestion that we spend the afternoon together and catch up on life.
“Da! I have had enough of the Collectivization and the Great Famine. I need, how do you say… antidote? Yes, antidote. Wine for me, tea for you, and as much pizza as we can eat and the most ro-mantic film in the world…”
“Which is?” We linked arms and together made our way down the corridor.
“Brief Encounter, of course! I love it when Alec takes the speck out of Laura’s eye. It is so romantic, so British.”
“What, all grimy stations and postwar austerity? Or do you mean repressed emotions and unrequited love? Anyway, what’s so romantic about a married woman having an affair with a married man?” I always pitied the poor passive husband rather than his wayward wife, although I had been young when I’d first seen it, and a harsh critic. Besides, it was a theme too close to home.
“Silly,” Elena chided as we reached the stairs. “It is a wonderful film. Alec is a doctor like Matthew, and Laura is…”
I nudged her arm. “Is what?”
“Laura is very… nice.”
“Nice! Are you saying I’m nice?”
“No, no – not nice; you are very correct, like Laura…”
“Oh, thanks a bunch.”
“… and Matthew is very passionate.”
I laughed. “True.” She waited expectantly, but I wasn’t in the habit of discussing the intimate details of my life, especially with someone prone to a glass or two in good company – or otherwise.
We opened the door to the quad and were met by a wall of sunshine. Cowed by the sudden light, I squinted as a sturdy form made his way towards us, raising his arm in greeting. I waved back. “There’s Matias. Were you meeting him?” By her thwarted pout I rather thought not.
“Hey! Two gorgeous women, my luck’s turned. Where are you off to?”
Elena returned his kiss halfheartedly. “We were going to watch Brief Encounter – alone.”
“So that she can try to wheedle details of my sex life over a bottle of wine and a pizza. Unfortunately for her dastardly plan, tea doesn’t make me particularly loquacious,” I grinned.
Matias rumpled Elena’s hair into a glossy bird’s nest that settled back into place with a stroke of his hand. “But you can’t blame her for trying, Emma. Matthew’s not very forthcoming on that subject either. You shouldn’t have bought her all those girly DVDs, and what was with the London policeman’s helmet, may I ask? She’s been making me wear it.”
“Honestly, you two!” I exclaimed, laughing, but became distracted as Elena tugged my sleeve.
“Eckhart!” she said in a theatric undertone. “He’s coming this way.” Two figures made silhouettes by the sun – one short and oval, the other stiff and long – were making rapid ground towards us.
“Quick, hoof it.” Matias made toreador movements with his arms, ushering us back towards the faculty door so we could make good our escape. Too late.
“Ah… ah, Professor!”
I groaned barely audibly and wondered if I could pretend I hadn’t heard him.
“Professor!” Eckhart tried again. I halted, smiling apologetically at my friends. “Professor D’Eresby, just a moment if you w�
� will!” I turned, shielding my eyes against the glare. He could hardly contain his excitement. “I have su… such good news, s… someone I know you would like to meet.”
The second figure moved out of the sun’s path and became human, and my chest constricted sharply as the ground swayed and my lungs struggled to draw oxygen.
“Hello, Emma,” the all-too familiar voice drawled. “Happy birthday.”
CHAPTER
22
Surprise
“Emma, you didn’t say it was your birthday!” Elena gushed. She flung her arms around me. “Happy birthday!”
Remaining immobile, I was hardly aware of anything or anyone else, my eyes fixed and staring at the man in front of me. I forced my mouth to work. “Hello, Guy.”
Elena took a step back, her smile fading as she recalled his name from my past. He had changed less than I would have expected – hair a little thinner, a tad more weight – but his eyes were exactly the same, and they scoured me as they had always done, seeking, delving, restless.
“I knew you would be p… pleased,” Eckhart beamed, regardless of the sudden tension.
Guy almost smiled. “It’s been a long time, Emma; you’re looking very well, I must say.” So was he. His shirt sat open at the neck and his olive skin had taken on a russet glow which suited him. He hadn’t acquired a tan like that in the UK at this time of year. What did he think I’d say? How did he expect I would respond?
Eckhart ploughed on, oblivious. “Yes, yes, of c… course, Dr Hilliard is here for the conference. I wanted to introduce you last week but you were away on your… on your hon…”
