by FJ Campbell
‘Oooh. Whathappened, whathappened, whathappened? Shall I come over? Tell me everything.’
Beth sighed. ‘There’s nothing to tell. He was worried, I passed out in the car, he just brought me in and stayed on the sofa to check I was OK.’
‘And this morning?’
‘This morning we just talked. He’s really nice, I like him.’
‘Like him or like-him like him?’
‘I just like him. Like a friend. Don’t you? He’s a nice guy, don’t you think? What’s he like at school?’
‘Ha, you said it – twice. He’s “nice”. Nobody has anything bad to say about him. Milo’s just… he’s not really… well, he’s just sort of… there. Do you know what I mean?’
‘I do, actually. He keeps turning up.’
‘Like a bad penny,’ agreed Livvy.
‘No, like a good penny. Definitely good. Perhaps there’s more to him than you know.’
‘Hidden depths? Maybe. He’s been through a lot recently. God. I can’t even begin to think. But… Beth?’
‘Yes, Livvy?’
‘It’s probably none of my business… but you seem awfully pally with Milo. Because you also said you weren’t interested in boys.’ Livvy paused. ‘I still don’t get that.’
‘I… I just think they make everything… complicated. And not in a good way. You’re right, no boys. And definitely not Milo. He’s all wrong for me.’
She couldn’t let it happen again – all those times when they’d been alone, that had to stop. She needed him to be on her side and she couldn’t risk hurting his feelings, not now he knew her secret.
Beth said goodbye to Livvy and hung up, stretching out on the deckchair in the garden, feeling the warmth of the sun seeping through her skin and enjoying the vague memory of being held in strong arms. She decided to think about the matter of Milo West another day and then she fell asleep.
*
A week later, term started and Beth piled her suitcases into a taxi. This was what she’d been waiting for: a new beginning, new friends, a new Beth Atkinson. She rolled down the window and smoked her last legal cigarette for a while, thinking about the list of rules that had arrived in the holidays. No smoking, obviously. No alcohol or drugs, no cars – but horses were fine, what was that all about? Curfews, times when you couldn’t play music, times when you couldn’t visit anyone of the opposite sex’s room. There was a list of punishments too: pre-breakfast runs, extra cleaning duties, Saturday night detention, suspension, expulsion. That she could do without. She wasn’t used to so many rules; Anne was pretty relaxed, and Beth wasn’t going to find it easy to remember what she could and couldn’t do. Tough shit, then; she’d just have to not get caught.
The taxi turned into the front of the school and there it was again, the view of the main building that she’d found so daunting last year. This time, the taxi turned sharp right and followed the hill up to Norcombe House. Beth had been gutted that the single room she’d been allocated as a scholar had been reallocated when she gave up the scholarship. Never mind, at least she was in a double with Livvy; that wouldn’t be so bad. Livvy wasn’t there yet, so she dumped her suitcases on the single bed next to the window. Livvy would understand why she wanted that bed. She couldn’t be bothered to unpack and there was nobody else about, so she thought she’d explore and maybe run into Milo.
Great minds think alike – he was waiting in the courtyard outside the house.
‘Walk in the woods?’ he said.
Beth eyed him, ready to put him back in his place, but he was smiling normally at her, no sign of the gawky kid who looked like he was in pain. Good. She had a pack of fags with her and wanted Milo to show her where the best places were to smoke without getting caught. May as well start now. They trudged through the woods and down to the river, Milo pointing out shortcuts and good hiding places. He was a mine of information about the school and its grounds, but when she asked him about the other pupils, he just shrugged.
‘Best ask Livvy about that, that’s her area of expertise.’
They chatted about her old school and Anne and James, and about Milo’s parents.
‘We’re kind of the same now – orphans. I’m sorry about your mum and dad. That was really tough. At least I never knew mine.’
There was an awkward silence. Beth looked at him, expecting him to say something about how his dad had really landed him in the shit, or about how he missed him or hated him or anything.
But he looked the other way and his mouth tightened; then he said in a low, controlled voice, ‘I’m fine. I’ll survive.’
Beth didn’t know if she’d said the wrong thing, or how to unsay it. Quick, change the subject. ‘Um. D’you remember when you fell off the ladder? When can I come for that cup of tea?’
Milo smiled. ‘Sorry, you’re not allowed; nobody from school is allowed to visit without a permission form and they’ll never give you one—’
‘What, because I’m a girl? What do they think you’re going to do to me?’
She could see him trying not to blush, scuffing his boot into the earth, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
‘OK, so I’m not allowed to come to your lair. But tell me, is it filthy? Do you live on takeaways and beer?’
‘I’ll have you know, I’m very domesticated.’
‘Well, well. Is that a fact?’
They were back at Norcombe House by now and there were cars and trunks and parents and children milling about the courtyard. As Milo said goodbye, he paused for a moment and looked worried.
‘I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but… when you go to the dining hall for dinner tonight, there’s this sort of lame tradition that the new sixth-form girls are given marks out of ten. It’s so stupid – it’s mostly the rugby boys; they sit on a table near the entrance, like a panel of judges. I just wanted to warn you. There’s a different entrance at the back; if you want I can show you, or ask Livvy…’ He tailed off and made an apologetic face. ‘What’s so funny? Aren’t you pissed off?’
Beth was grinning. ‘Are you on the panel of judges? You’re a rugby boy, aren’t you?’
‘Yes… no… I mean, I am but… I just think it’s stupid, don’t you?’
‘Well…’ She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. ‘It’s just that, if you were judging, I might stand more of a chance of getting a ten.’
*
She found Livvy and later they walked to dinner together. Beth noted that Livvy hadn’t told her about the judging; lucky Milo had come through for her again so she’d had time to check her hair and put on a bit of lipstick. It was a stupid tradition, totally sexist, Milo was right, but still, she wanted to get a good score.
There were twelve of them, lined up at the first table opposite the serving hatch. Beth put on a convincing stony face, made sure she was standing up straight and ignored them. As she turned with her tray of food from the hatch, she glanced over at a row of nines, and as she and Livvy made their way up the aisle to find a table, the boys rose from their chairs and gave her a special round of applause, which made them both giggle and ruin the act.
Livvy found them two places at a table with some other lower-sixth-formers. She introduced them all to Beth, who instantly forgot all their names. They were all talking about their summer holidays – jet-skiing, sailing; one of them had even learnt to play polo. She zoned them out; it was too much at once. Someone was buzzing about a rumour she’d heard concerning a girl called Bonnie Markham. She asked Beth if she knew her.
‘What, me? No, who is she?’
‘She’s the little sis of Edward Markham, you know, the head boy? She was in the fourth form last year and she’s been taken out of school by her parents; she’s at a day school in Truro now, that’s what I heard.’
Beth made an effort to seem interested. ‘Why have her parents taken her out of the school?’
‘That’s the mystery. Nobody’s seen her all summer, except for once at a party in London, when she turned up l
ate, had a massive argument with someone and left after about five minutes. She looked really ill, so I heard.’
‘So, why don’t you just ask Edward?’ Beth suggested.
‘God, no, no way, he’d never tell, not likely. Blood out of a stone.’
Now she was intrigued and asked the girl, Melanie, to point out which one was Edward Markham. He was sat at a table towards the back entrance of the dining room with a tray of food in front of him, bolt upright, talking seriously and nodding politely. Tall, with neat, dark hair, dressed in an impeccably clean white shirt, with an expensive watch, Beth thought he was incredibly handsome, like a statue of a Roman god. For a couple of seconds she stared openly at him. She’d never seen anyone that looked like him before.
Her reverie was interrupted by the arrival of two very red-faced, very blond, identical giants: Livvy’s twin brothers, Billy and Jake Rose. She’d met them over the summer at a party at their house. They were collectively known as ‘BJ’; were boisterous and lively, like large, friendly dogs; constantly told Beth how much they adored her; and only called people by their surnames.
‘You will never guess what we’ve just heard,’ they shouted at their sister in unison and then, not waiting to hear what her guess would be, ‘Ravensdale has been busted for bringing in a bottle of vodka and three hundred duty-free fags. He’s been suspended for a week and he’s not 1st XV captain any more.’
Beth’s eye was caught by a hulking teacher in a Weatherbury Hall tracksuit approaching a table at the back of the dining hall, and she watched him whilst vaguely listening to the twins’ roaring. He stopped at the table where Milo was sitting and put his hand on Milo’s shoulder. Milo stood up and shook the teacher’s hand and as they chatted, she saw his face break out in a grin, as happy as she’d ever seen him.
She jumped as a voice boomed in her ear, ‘Atkinson, my darling girl, that’ll be West, our new 1st XV captain.’
CHAPTER 5
The weeks passed and summer turned into autumn, the woods around the school bursting into colour. Beth received a postcard from James every week, signed each time from a different James Bond character, and she pinned them up on the wall above her bed. Goldfinger told her he’d grown a beard; Rosa Klebb was into yoga; Blofeld hated the city, but loved the mountains and forests and the California coast; Holly Goodhead wrote to her about the earthquake that had hit San Francisco in October.
Beth made a point never to spend time alone with Milo, after that first afternoon of term. He needed to understand that’s how things had to be. No more flirting or being alone all night with him. It was easy – they didn’t have the same classes and he was busy with rugby and whatever else he got up to.
What she found more difficult was the day-to-day regime of The Island. All the rules and deadlines and curfews. She couldn’t get the hang of having to be in certain places at certain times and her housemistress was forever handing her punishments for being late. When she compared it to living with Anne, it felt claustrophobic. Anne was such an unfit mother – her words, not Beth’s – but they had a laugh together and she let Beth get away with anything. When James had visited from London, or when they’d stayed at his flat there, he took a dim view of how they lived and reminded Beth that being spoilt and beautiful hadn’t helped her mother, in the end. That was when she’d realised: it was up to her, and her alone, to make great things happen in her life.
*
One October day, Livvy, Melanie and Beth were walking to their house after morning lessons. They passed the fork in the road that led to the boys’ houses and Beth caught sight of Edward Markham heading towards them. Ever since she’d seen him on that first day in the dining hall, she’d found herself looking out for him around school and whenever he appeared, she felt a thrill spreading through her. He always looked the same: spotless white shirt, dark trousers ironed razor-sharp, gleaming shoes. And he was always so serious and aloof. She was sure that underneath that proud exterior, he’d be so romantic and fascinating. That day, Beth cursed to herself because she knew she wasn’t looking her best; she hadn’t had time to wash her hair that morning and her shirt sleeve was spotted with ink. It turned out not to matter – he showed no sign of noticing that they even existed as he passed by.
‘Livs, what’s the story with Edward?’ Beth asked when he was out of earshot. ‘Has anyone heard about his sister – Bonnie, wasn’t it?’
‘It’s as if she’s disappeared,’ said Livvy conspiratorially. ‘Nobody has seen her; she doesn’t return letters or phone calls. I reckon her parents are keeping her prisoner. She must of done something really awful and they need to hush it up.’
‘Must have done something,’ Beth corrected, to general eye-rolling. ‘Who are her parents and why do they need to hush up their awful daughter?’
‘Her dad is a politician, quite senior I think. Minister of Foreigners and Secretaries or something…’
‘That Markham? Edward is the son of the Foreign Secretary?’ Crikey. Also, can’t these girls ever read a newspaper?
Livvy was in her element now. ‘So, he’s really gorgeous, am I right? But he has never, not ever, been out with a girl, not from our school or out of school, because my cousin lives in Truro, near where the Markhams live, and she told me. She even tried calling him, asking him to a couple of parties, but he wasn’t interested. Point-blank refused, quite rudely actually. A friend of my cousin, she’s soooo pretty, she and her family went with the Markhams on a skiing holiday to Val-d’Isère. Every single night she tried to chat him up. Nada.’
Beth half listened as they prattled on and on. Anything and anyone was fair game for the well-oiled gossip machine of Livvy and Melanie. She was fond of the two of them, but they also drove her crazy with their childishness and their sheltered and privileged view of life. She could picture them in a few years from now, married to rich stockbrokers or bankers, with a litter of children and a fleet of servants, lunching at the tennis club and gossiping all the livelong day.
Livvy said to Beth, ‘Do you have a crush on Edward Markham, then?’
‘What’s a “crush” when it’s at home? Sounds painful.’
Livvy peered at her. ‘You’re so funny. Do you like him? Do you luurve him? Do you want to f—’
‘OK, I get the picture,’ said Beth. ‘So what if I do?’
‘Good luck with that. Anyway, I thought you weren’t interested in having a boyfriend? And what about your biggest fan? Farmer West isn’t going to take this lying down…’
‘Oh, give it a rest, will you?’ Beth snapped. ‘You know Milo and I are just friends.’
‘He’s not good enough for you anyway. You could have any boy in the school you chose.’
Except Edward Markham. Beth frowned.
They were interrupted in their cerebral ruminations by the sound of twenty pairs of feet pounding on the tarmac behind them. They turned around to see the entire rugby squad bearing down upon them, and they jumped out of the way in the nick of time. There were BJ and Milo and Justin and the rest, on a training run. The girls let them pass by and carried on up to their house, hearing distant voices singing:
‘I don’t know, but I’ve been told, Atkinson is made of gold.
I don’t know, but it’s been said, I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.’
*
After lunch every day, everyone met in the sixth-form common room, down in the cellar corridor of the school, to watch Neighbours on TV and catch up on the important news of the day – meaning The Island news, since nobody was interested in the actual news in the real world. Billy Rose had a letter from another cousin, or it could have been the same one who’d been so keen on Edward. The Rose network of cousins was so extensive and so efficient at newsmongering, they gave Rupert Murdoch a run for his money. The latest revelation was that Bonnie Markham had been removed from The Island by her parents, who had been concerned about a relationship with a boy that was ‘too intense’. The boy’s identity was as yet unknown.
That set off a
flurry of questions between Livvy, Billy and the rest of the group, punctuated by loud shushes from the crowd watching TV. Beth wasn’t paying much attention. Could it be true? Could anyone find out who the boy was? Could I give less of a shit?
‘It is true; it came from something Bonnie’s mum said. It sounds right, anyway. Bonnie’s so pretty, she doesn’t look fourteen. As long as I could get past Markham, I’d definitely be interested in getting intense with her.’ Billy winked at Beth. ‘Since you’re not interested, Atkinson. Or… are you?’
At that moment, Milo walked in with Guy Revel and Jake, changed for rugby training. Beth watched Justin Ravensdale get up and leave, a sour look in his eyes under their thick, dark brows. Justin resented the fact that Milo had been given his captaincy after he’d been suspended. He didn’t know, because Milo refused to tell him, that Milo had been first choice as captain, before they knew about the scholarships and before Mr West had died. But Milo was too decent to take Justin down a peg; that was the kind of person he was. Beth would have done it in a second. Justin gave her the shivers.
Milo had just come from a meeting with the careers advisor. He and Guy were talking about university and he had some brochures in his hand. He sat down opposite Beth on the sofas and asked her what she wanted to study and to do for a job. She’d never talked to anyone about this before. But when Milo asked, she found she wanted to talk to him about it.
‘I don’t know what I have to study, but I know what I want to do.’
Everyone stopped talking to each other and she could almost see their ears wagging. Oh well, here we go.
‘I want to be a film director.’ It was so private, and she’d just shared it with the whole room. She braced herself for the inevitable teasing or dismissal of her unrealistic ambition.
‘Cool,’ said Guy. ‘Sounds great. Can I have a part in your first film? Only, not if it’s a porno, I can’t do porno; my dick’s too small.’
‘Oh, man, shut up, will you? You are so gross.’
