Bound by Ivy

by S. Quinn

  *****

  As Keith and I drive through London, it begins to rain. Lightly at first, and then in big heavy drops that splatter on the windscreen and cover the glass with water. By the time we reach Ivy College, a full on storm is underway. The sky tumbles with grey clouds, and sparks of lightning flash around the college turrets.

  I run through the grounds of Ivy College in the rain, and by the time I reach my bedroom I’m soaked. I sit on my bed, shivering and dialling Marc’s number.

  ‘Sophia.’

  ‘It’s me.’

  ‘Have you changed out of your wet clothes?’

  ‘How did you know my clothes were wet?’

  ‘The college security cameras filmed you running across the grounds, covering your head with your coat. When you reached the accommodation block, you were soaked through.’

  ‘Marc, there’s something I need to tell you.’

  ‘Promise me you’re not hurt.’

  ‘I’m not hurt.’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘It’s about Leo.’

  Silence.

  ‘Marc?’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘We … Leo and I kissed.’

  More silence.

  ‘It didn’t mean anything,’ I say, my words garbled and fast. ‘Truly it didn’t. We were just joking around and he kissed me, and then I pulled away. It meant absolutely nothing to me. I was just missing you, missing being near you, and I think it made me all confused. I should have pulled away sooner, but … I didn’t. I feel so awful about it. So terrible. Marc, I love you. I love you so much.’

  ‘Leo kissed you?’ says Marc, his words slow.

  ‘And I let him.’

  Marc let’s out a long sigh. ‘Sophia, I understand.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. This was … my plan, in a way. When your father suggested time apart, I wanted you to spend time with Leo. To see if he was the right man for you after all. The better man. The man who can give you a better life – no press controversy, no dark sides. So I understand. And I love you enough to let you go.’

  I shake my head at the phone. ‘Please Marc … please. Listen to me. I love you. I don’t love Leo. I don’t feel that way about him at all. I didn’t need to kiss him to know that – I knew before. Forgive me Marc, please. I love you so much.’

  ‘I forgive you,’ says Marc. ‘Forgiveness isn’t the issue. The issue is who the right man is for you. And the right man could be Leo.’

  ‘No. He isn’t. Leo’s my friend. Nothing more.’

  A long pause.

  ‘You have to believe me,’ I say. ‘Please. It’s you. It’s only ever been you.’

  ‘I’m coming to see you.’

  My throat goes tight. ‘Marc?’

  But the line has already gone dead.

  I call Marc straight back and he picks up after two rings. That’s two rings slower than usual.

  ‘Marc—’

  ‘Sophia, I told you. I’m coming over. You don’t need to know any more than that.’

  ‘Marc, please don’t break up with me.’

  ‘Sophia, calm down,’ Marc replies softly. ‘I’ll be there soon.’

  The line clicks off again, and I’m left staring at my phone.

  I sit on my bed and wait, watching the door and jumping like a crazy woman at the slightest sound. When half an hour has passed, I hear a knock.

  I know it’s Marc – not just because of the sharpness of the knock, but also because whoever is outside climbed the stairs so stealthily that I didn’t hear them.

  I climb off the bed.

  ‘Wait. Don’t open the door.’ It’s Marc’s voice.

  I hesitate. ‘Wait here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I hear something – a slight skidding sound like a t-shirt being taken off – and see a dark, thin object slide under the door.

  I lean forwards.

  ‘What’s that?’ I ask.

  ‘A blindfold. Get off the bed and put it on.’

  I’m totally confused now. ‘A blindfold? But … why?’

  ‘Because we have an agreement with your father. You’re not allowed to see me. And I intend to stick to that agreement.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Sliding off the bed, I pick up the blindfold, feeling its silky fabric stroke my fingers.

  ‘Put on the blindfold. Then open the door.’

  56

  I swallow, lifting the blindfold to my eyes, my hands trembling a little.

  I tie the blindfold behind my hair and instantly the world goes dark. I can hear my own breathing and feel the silky fabric against my fluttering eyelids, but other than that I’m not aware of much at all, except blackness.

  Carefully, I take little steps towards the door and feel around for the handle. I wonder what on earth I must look like, hands outstretched, hair pulled down under the blindfold, stumbling around like a drunk woman.

  My heart thumps faster and faster as I feel the cool wood of the door under my fingertips.

  ‘Marc?’ I call out, placing my palm flat against the wood.

  ‘I’m right here. Are you blindfolded?’ Marc asks.

  ‘Yes,’ I reply, clicking open the lock and fumbling for the door handle.

  I pull the door open and step back.

  There’s a moment of stillness as I feel cool air against my face. And then I hear the slap of Marc’s leather shoes as he walks into the room and feel his hands take mine and lead me to the bed.

  It’s all I can do not to hurl myself at him. I want to feel his arms around me. To be safe and warm against his chest. But I don’t know what he’s feeling right now. Or why he’s here. God, please don’t let him break up with me. Please.

  Once he’s sat me down, I hear him return to the door and close it.

  Silence.

  ‘Marc?’

  ‘You should change out of those wet clothes,’ Marc says from some unknown part of the bedroom.

  I hear him walking around, circling the bed. Then I hear a crumpling sound, and feel the breeze of something falling beside me. I reach out and find my dressing gown.

  ‘Put this on.’

  ‘Marc, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry—’

  ‘Now, Sophia,’ Marc interrupts. ‘You’ll get ill if you stay in those wet things.’

  I do, struggling out of my clothes and sliding the warm towelling robe over my arms.

  ‘Did you come here to break up with me?’ I ask.

  ‘No. If I had, I wouldn’t make you wear a blindfold. Our agreement wouldn’t mean much if we weren’t together.’

  My heart lifts.

  ‘When you phoned earlier … I just couldn’t get it out of my head that something terrible had happened. That your safety had been compromised. So I needed to see you. To make sure you were safe.’

  ‘Something terrible did happen,’ I whisper. ‘Marc, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

  ‘You don’t need to be sorry. I saw the footage. In the garden. I saw how it happened. He kissed you and you pulled away.’

  ‘I was missing you so much,’ I say, starting to cry. ‘That’s why I didn’t stop that kiss sooner. But I’m so ashamed of myself. So, so ashamed.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ Marc’s voice is tender.

  ‘Please forgive me.’

  ‘I told you. There’s nothing to forgive. It’s Leo who should be asking my forgiveness.’

  ‘Don’t hate Leo. He was only messing around.’

  ‘With my future wife.’

  ‘I know, but he didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘If it wasn’t for the fact he looked after you when there was an intruder in the garden, I’d have beaten the living daylights out of him by now,’ Marc growls.

  ‘Marc—’

  I sense him behind me and hear his breathing getting closer. The hairs on my neck stand up as I feel his weight on the bed. Then his fingers feel their way under my hair, stroking up from the nape of my neck to my damp hairline, and I let out
a long, low moan.

  ‘But as long as you’re safe,’ says Marc, ‘that’s all that matters to me. And I can see that. I should go now. I don’t want to break our agreement.’

  I’m trying to hold it all together, trying not to go crazy at the sound of him. I can smell his delicious woody, soapy smell, and feel the warmth of his body behind me.

  ‘Yes.’ My voice is wobbling and so are my intentions. I don’t want him to leave. Every bit of my body is crying out for him.

  Marc leans closer, so close that I can almost feel his lips touching my neck. ‘Stay strong, Sophia. We’ll be together again soon.’

  Marc’s breathing is sharp, and I know he’s trying to hold it together too.

  ‘You test my self control to the very limits, do you know that Sophia Rose?’

  I feel his weight leave the bed and hear his shoes make contact with the floor.

  ‘I don’t want you to be self controlled right now,’ I say, knowing I sound out of breath. ‘God, I don’t. Truly.’

  ‘I never break my promises. To anyone.’

  I laugh, and it releases the tension a little. ‘I know. You’re a good man. No matter how much you try to deny it. Thank you. Thank you for forgiving me.’

  ‘I already told you. There’s nothing to forgive.’

  ‘Marc?’

  ‘Yes Sophia?’

  ‘I won’t choose Leo. You do know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Most of the time.’ I feel a smile in his voice. ‘Just don’t make a habit of seducing any more Hollywood stars while I’m not around.’

  ‘I didn’t seduce Leo.’

  ‘Not intentionally. You didn’t seduce me intentionally either. But it happened.’

  ‘I seduced you?’ I say.

  ‘More or less.’

  I know Marc is teasing me, but I can’t resist playing along.

  ‘Funny. I always thought it was a little more mutual than that.’

  ‘Mutual? I tried to walk away, if you remember.’

  ‘I remember. But I wouldn’t say that I seduced you.’

  ‘No. Seduced is totally the wrong word. Bewitched is better.’

  I grab a pillow and throw it at empty air.

  Marc laughs. ‘Not a bad shot. Well, what other word would you use? I fell under your spell.’

  ‘My spell?’ Now it’s my turn to laugh. ‘Watch out I don’t fall off that pedestal you’ve put me on, Marc Blackwell. It’s mighty high.’

  ‘Not high enough.’ Marc pauses, and even though I’m blindfold, I can feel him looking at me.

  ‘I wish you could kiss me,’ I blurt out.

  ‘So do I,’ Marc growls. ‘I need to leave. Before things get any harder.’

  ‘Bad choice of words.’ I say.

  I hear my bedroom door creak.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ Marc says. ‘Before I rip that dressing gown off you, tie the cord around your ankles, bend you over the bed and fuck you.’

  I swallow. ‘Why did you have to say that?’

  ‘Why do you have to be so irresistible?’

  A weird noise from outside makes my head snap up, and I turn towards the balcony.

  ‘What was that?’ I say.

  The noise changes from a breaking sound into a strange, cat-like screeching that echoes across the campus.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Marc says. I feel the air turn as he stalks past me, back through the bedroom.

  ‘Marc?’ I call. ‘What is it?’ The noise outside sounds like some sort of animal, but the sick feeling in my stomach tells me it’s something else … something human.

  There’s a dull thud on the window, and every instinct tells me to rip the blindfold off. I reach my fingers up.

  ‘Keep that blindfold on,’ Marc snaps. ‘Sophia, stay where you are.’ His voice is blunt and serious. ‘Exactly where you are.’

  ‘Marc, what’s going on?’ I say, my voice turning to a whisper.

  I hear curtains swishing closed.

  ‘You’ll be fine in this room. But right now, I need to go downstairs and deal with something.’

  I hear him stride across the bedroom and the next moment, the bedroom door bangs closed behind him.

  I yank the blindfold off, my chest heaving. The bedroom is still warm from Marc, and I smell that beautiful woody spicy smell that comes from his body. But something is badly wrong, and I need to know what.

  I’m not nosy by nature. But the sight of the closed curtains awakens something in me beyond curiosity. I have to see what Marc wants to shield me from.

  I go to the window and pull the curtains aside.

  When I see the window, my body turns very, very cold.

  57

  Running down the glass, I see bright red streaks.

  Oh my god. Although I want to turn away, I find myself looking closer, examining the long smears running down the windowpane.

  Blood. I’m pretty sure of it. The way it moves down the glass and turns thick at the bottom ... it couldn’t be anything else.

  There’s a sort of streaky splatter, then three long trickles running down the glass like rain drops.

  As my gaze falls to the balcony outside the window, I jump back in shock. There’s something red and meaty looking out there, glistening in the moonlight.

  I put a hand to my chest to steady my heart, and it’s then I hear the noises again – the strange, screeching sounds cutting through the still night air.

  As I listen to the sounds, they become words.

  ‘You’re dead, Sophia Rose. D.E.A.D, dead.’

  It’s Cecile.

  Perhaps not the Cecile I remember from Ivy College. She’s more than just angry and hate-filled. And she’s shrieking like an insane person.

  My heart is beating even faster now. How did she get into the college?

  I hear the ground floor accommodation door slam and Marc’s clipped footsteps head out into the night.

  The shrieking stops and turns into crying. I think I hear Marc’s voice, followed by the voices of other men – Marc’s security team I think. And then, silence.

  As I try to make sense of what I’ve just heard, my eyes grow used to the dark, and I focus once again on the meaty thing on my patio.

  Suddenly, I know what it is.

  I’ve seen something like it before in the village butcher’s shop, but I’ve never bought one. It’s a pig’s heart – huge and bloody. Cecile must have hurled it at the window. How on earth did she throw it so high?

  I shiver, and the shiver turns into a shake that just won’t stop, even when I wrap the duvet around myself.

  Cecile really has flipped. She could do someone some harm right now.

  Thank god Marc was here.

  My phone rings.

  I see Marc’s number on the screen and snatch it up.

  ‘Marc?’

  ‘Sophia.’ His voice calms me a little. ‘Are you still in the bedroom?’

  ‘Yes. Are you okay?’

  ‘You needn’t ever worry about me. It’s you and your safety that are important.’

  ‘Your safety is important too.’

  ‘I can take care of myself.’ He pauses. ‘Cecile was here.’

  ‘I know. I heard her. How did she get in?’

  ‘Someone must have given her a key. My guess is Ryan. But I don’t want you to worry. You’re safe here. The security team would never have let her get into the accommodation block. There are cameras everywhere.

  ‘Security were well on their way to intercepting her before I even got downstairs. She’s in a much more fragile state of mind than any of us thought. I should have known. I should have guessed.’

  ‘How could you have?’ I say. ‘Who’d have thought she’d have gone this crazy? To turn up in the dead of night, hurling meat at windows …’ I catch myself.

  ‘You’ve seen the balcony then,’ says Marc.

  ‘Yes,’ I admit.

  ‘I told you not to open the curtains.’

  ‘I know. I don’t know why I opened the curta
ins. Something just came over me. How did she throw it all the way up here?’

  ‘She used a catapult. Someone will come clean the mess up first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘Do you think this counts as breaching our one weekly phone call? Since this is our fourth call of the day?’

  ‘We haven’t spoken for more than half an hour. This all counts as part of the same call. Now. Listen carefully. I’ve given the security team a new password. Ask them for it before you speak to any of them or let them in your room.’ A pause. ‘The password is ivy.’

  My body feels all shaky and scared. ‘I’ll remember it.’

  ‘I hate to leave you alone up there. I hate it.’ I feel Marc’s frustration down the phone. ‘But I’ll be on campus all night. Seconds away if you need me. Sophia …’

  ‘Yes Marc?’

  ‘There’ll be some press about this tomorrow.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About Cecile. When we took her to the entrance gate, there were paparazzi outside. She went straight to them. They got a picture of me standing next to her. Talking to her. Chances are they’ll make some story out of it.’

  ‘Oh.’ I hate the thought of Marc being lied about in the newspapers, especially when those lies involve Cecile. But there are worse things that could happen. I mean, at least Marc wasn’t hurt. ‘Well, I guess we’ll just have to weather that storm when it comes.’

  ‘Go to bed now, Sophia. I’ll be watching over you.’

  ‘I know.’

  58

  The next day, Keith drives me back to the cottage first thing.

  I’m sitting in the cottage garden reading my lines, when Jen comes hurrying outside with a wodge of newspapers.

  ‘Sophia, did you know about this?’

  I look up from my crumpled script. It’s cold outside and I’m huddled in the coat Marc gave me and wearing thick wool gloves.

  I see a dark, grainy picture of Marc and Cecile, blown up big on a front page.

  ‘Sort of,’ I say. ‘I mean, I knew they got a picture of Marc and Cecile last night. She broke into the college, and Marc and his team escorted her out.’

  ‘But these articles …’ She fans the papers out for me.

  I scan the headlines. ‘Oh my god.’

  Blackwell Love Child

  Marc Beds Student No.2