Angels and Men (17 page)

As she ate, Mara overheard various accounts of Christmas drunkenness and dissipation. The conversations went predictably to and fro. She looked down at the unappetizing stew in front of her, then put down her knife and fork and moved the plate away. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the polecat pause fractionally, then continue eating. Suddenly she knew. He wanted to make sure she was eating properly.
‘You look like something by Munch.'
She sat wide-eyed with disbelief. Why would he care? Then another thought occurred to her: why had he never once mocked her about her fear of spiders? Or referred again to her wild talk of angels? A new category appeared in her mind: polecat, acts of kindness performed by. The whisky. The heater. Her mind prickled in outrage.

The plates were collected and dishes of crumble and custard were passed along the tables. Mara sat scowling, unable to decide whether she would have eaten any if it had not occurred to her that the polecat was watching over her diet. He placed a dish in front of her. She prodded it with her spoon. Rhubarb. I hate rhubarb. She pushed it away.

‘Stop pouting,' said the polecat. She turned an icy stare on him.

‘Pouting?'
She had a mental image of herself grinding the dish in his face. At last – a
raison d'être
for rhubarb after all these years. Mara spent the rest of the meal watching the skin forming on the custard.

The meal was over. The polecat rose to leave and Mara went silently with him. What would he do if I ate nothing? she wondered. And how does he know I don't go back to my room and throw it all up again? They were approaching the foot of the stairs when Mara pictured herself making retching noises for him to hear through the wall. At that moment he glanced at her and caught her grinning. He turned away in disdain, but she saw his lips wavering into a smile as they began to climb the steps.

‘Stop smirking,' she said; and they paused, looked at one another, and, at last, smiled together. Record the moment in tablets of stone, thought Mara. They continued to their rooms in silence. The smile had transformed him. She saw how very engaging he might be if he chose.

She settled down at her desk again and had just opened a book when she heard the sound of feet coming up the stairs. Two sets. Galumphing, and scampering. Maddy and May. The door burst open, and Maddy goose-stepped across to Mara, swung the Angle-poise lamp round and shone it into her eyes.

‘Speak, fool!' she hissed. ‘Did you think you could get away with it?'

Mara made no reply.

‘You deny it,
ja
?'

Mara sat in silence.

‘Then you admit it!'

Maddy's face was quivering with mock rage. She was going to be one of the rare prima donnas with acting skills that equalled her voice. When Mara still said nothing, Maddy thrust her face up close and bawled out a stream of German. ‘You understand that?'

‘Yes,' said Mara with a smile. A list of prepositions taking the dative. She could remember learning it herself. ‘How was your Christmas?'

‘I'm asking the questions!' roared Maddy. ‘But actually, it was wonderful,' she said, reverting to her normal tone. ‘You should have come to Rupert's party, by the way. It was truly Bacchanalian. Or am I getting my mythologies muddled? What would a party with a biblical theme be?'

‘Gomorrean?' suggested May.

‘Hell,' said Mara.

‘Oh, just because you weren't there, you old cow. Anyway, it was wonderful.
Divine
. Rupert went as a World War One flying ace.' Maddy was waiting for Mara to guess.

‘Pilate?'

‘The polecat went as the Camp of the Children of Israel,' said May.

The polecat went? Mara hadn't realized he knew Rupert that well. ‘What about you?' said Mara aloud, seeing that Maddy was bursting to tell her. ‘The Scarlet Whore of Babylon?' She half-expected to be hit for this.

‘Actually, I did,' said Maddy, watching Mara suspiciously.

May, who by now had wandered across to the mirror and was trying on Mara's collection of hats, said dreamily, ‘I went as Delilah.' She hummed a little tune to herself and turned this way and that, looking at her reflection.

I bet I know what she's so smug about, thought Mara.

‘And quite coincidentally,' said Maddy, not entirely managing a careless note, ‘Johnny Whitaker went as Samson.'

‘I had no idea he would,' said May airily. It would have been an easy guess, though. He would hardly have gone as the boy Samuel.

‘Did you make him sleep upon your knees?' asked Mara. They looked at her open-mouthed. ‘As the Good Book says,' she added, smiling at their shocked faces. They glanced at one another uncertainly. Tut, tut. Vicars' daughters, and they don't know their Bibles. Then she realized that her scripture knowledge had been learned at a Welsh chapel Sunday school. Or during those forty-five-minute sermons, when she had been driven by sheer boredom to read great chunks of the Old Testament. Nobody could really tell her off, because it was the Word of God, after all. And very racy some of it was, too.

Suddenly Mara realized that something interesting had been said and she had missed it. Maddy and May were talking about mistletoe.

‘I couldn't believe my luck,' said Maddy. ‘I was bracing myself for a brotherly peck on the cheek, but my
God
. I thought I'd wee myself. What is the church
thinking
of, letting him loose in a parish?'

May giggled. ‘I know. He ought to have an archiepiscopal health warning stamped on him.'

Rupert? Or Johnny, even? Surely not.

‘But could you marry a man with tattoos and a lion skin?' asked Maddy.

They looked at one another and sighed simultaneously. ‘Yes!'

It
had
been Johnny. Hah! Celibacy was clearly a flexible concept. He'd never kissed her. If she'd been there, would he have done? She consoled herself with the thought that Rupert had kissed her, and not Maddy and May, the night at the ball. Even if he had been drunk at the time.

‘And Rupert,' said Maddy. ‘What about Rupert, then? That boy's been misspending his youth as well, or I'm a Girl Guide. Did you see where he had his hands? All of a sudden, I'm in favour of polygamy.'

‘Polyandry,' corrected Mara, pedantically.

‘Oh, meow!' sang Maddy.

‘Yes, you certainly should have come,' said May.

‘What as?' asked Mara, atoning for her pettiness by offering herself as a target.

‘The Witch of Endor?' suggested May. ‘Lot's wife?'

‘One of the seven thin cows of Pharaoh's dream?' suggested Maddy.

Even Mara had to laugh at that. May began twirling round the room in Mara's cape.

‘Let's go out,' said Maddy suddenly. ‘Oh, take that thing off, May. You look like you've got to be back in the dressing-up box by midnight.' She turned to Mara. ‘No offence. Let's go out for a walk. It's a beautiful night.'

‘It's cold,' said Mara.

‘So what? The moon's out. Look.' Maddy went across to the window. Mara felt herself wanting to shout ‘
Don't
!' Maddy opened the curtains and she and May looked out.

‘ “With how sad steps, O Moon –” '

‘Oh, do shut up!' howled Maddy.

‘ “– thou climbst the skies! How silently –” '

‘ “Say it's only a paper moon!” ' boomed Maddy's magnificent contralto.

‘ “– and with how wan a face!” ' bawled May.

‘ “Sailing over a cardboard sea!” '

The battle grew louder and louder, and there was a thumping on the wall from the polecat, and then a hammering on the door. Mara went to open it. Rupert. And Johnny. But her smile froze even as Rupert was saying, ‘Happy New Year, sweetie,' and leaning to kiss her cheek. Joanna was with them. Mara was hardly aware of Johnny asking her if she was all right. Joanna was upon her.

‘Hello, Mara. What a wonderful room. You're so lucky.' Sparkle, sparkle. She was treating her like a bosom friend. Mara took a step back, but Joanna drew near again. Rupert was talking to Maddy and May, but Johnny leant against the wall watching Mara and Joanna. ‘I hope I get a room like this when I'm in Jesus, but I'll have to take what I'm given, of course.'

Mara stood very still. What's this?

‘Didn't I tell you I've applied to change colleges? I've finally admitted to the Lord that He's right, and I should have applied here in the first place. But I was rebelling.'

She looked coy. Mara heard snakes in her mind. They came writhing out until they stood in a deadly halo around her head. The girl chattered on about the Lord.

‘He had to show me I was rebelling against Him. You'd have thought I'd have learnt by now, wouldn't you? Anyway, to cut a long story short, I'm changing colleges. The Lord's wanting me to work for him here.'

She was gazing up into Mara's face as though she were intent on seducing her. The snakes gave a warning rattle. Just
fuck
off.

‘We were just going out,' said Mara distinctly. She went and took her cloak from May, who was still wearing it. ‘It's a beautiful night. The moon is out, and we,' she pulled on her hat, ‘are going for a nice walk.' They were all staring at her.

‘Isn't it a bit cold?' asked Rupert.

‘Yes,' said Maddy, apparently forgetting her earlier words. For a moment nobody moved.

Then Johnny spoke. ‘Ha'away, you soft southerners. Since when has it been too cold to go out for a drink?'

At this, Maddy and May raced off for their coats. Mara could hear them receding into the distance as she went down the stairs with Rupert, Johnny and the girl. She tried to block out the sound of her chatter as they made their way through the college towards Coverdale Hall. Rupert and Johnny will go for their coats, she thought, and I'll be left with her.

But then she heard Joanna asking: ‘Will I be cold, do you think?'

It was addressed to Johnny, but Rupert answered a little impatiently, ‘Well, were you cold coming over here?'

‘I was a bit . . .'

There was a short, stubborn silence, then Rupert, who had the disadvantage of being a gentleman, offered to lend her a pullover. The two set off together. Johnny disappeared to his own room, leaving Mara standing in the hallway.

If she gets a place here, I'll have to leave. She stared at the notices pinned on the board. I shouldn't let her have this hold on me. It's as though she's a catalyst. Seemingly harmless, but speeding up some terrible chemical process inside me. The notices lifted and fluttered as the door opened. Maddy and May came in, wrapped up against the cold.

‘My God, you really hate that girl, don't you?' said Maddy. ‘We're going for a
nice walk
. Sorry sorry sorry!' She put out crossed forefingers to ward off the flash of anger in Mara's eye. She still couldn't take being mimicked.

‘Why do you hate her?' asked May. ‘Apart from the fact that she talks about the Lord as if he was her boyfriend.'

The fishwife's head appeared at the window of her bar: ‘She gets on my tit ends.'

‘She does? How?' Maddy's eyes strayed over Mara's spare figure in wonderment.

‘ “With God all things are possible,” ' quoted May.

‘ “Although for men it is impossible,” ' continued Maddy, and they both began to giggle. Mara wondered afresh why she put up with them, but she had to admit that she no longer felt as though she was about to fly into a million pieces.

At last the others came back – Joanna looking elfin in Rupert's guernsey – and they all set off down the cobbled street which led to the bridge and the river. The moon followed them across the windows and above the rooftops. Maddy began singing again, ‘
Moonlight Becomes You
.' The song was punctuated by shrieks as she lost her footing. Joanna was squealing and clutching at Rupert's arm, no doubt because Johnny was falling back and waiting for Mara.

‘St Agnes' Eve. Ah, bitter chill it was!' called May.

‘Just shut up!' came Maddy's voice. ‘Or I'll start singing again.'

‘Spare us!' said Rupert in the distance.

Johnny drew near to Mara. She stared stubbornly at the icicles which hung like knives from the gutters. The others were drawing ahead.

‘Are you all right?' he asked. ‘I was worried about you after I phoned.' But not enough to call again. ‘I'd've rung back, but you said you didn't want to talk.' She said nothing, struggling to control her rising temper.

‘I want to see the river,' Maddy's voice floated back to them.

‘How was the funeral?'

‘I didn't go.'

He made as if to speak, then checked himself. People always disapproved if you didn't attend funerals. Not paying proper respect.

‘You don't have to handle me with kid gloves.'

‘Fair enough,' he said. Ahead of them Joanna slipped on the ice and wailed until Rupert helped her up. Mara made a scornful noise, and suddenly Johnny stopped.

‘Look, we all know she's a pain in the arse, but so what? The rest of us manage to put up with it, so why can't you?'

She could see the moon reflected in an attic window behind him. It was full.

‘Look at me!' He seized her shoulders, and she stood not daring to turn away from him. ‘I hate it when you do that.' Then she saw the anger give way to something like disgust. He released her. ‘You're not exactly the easiest person in the world yourself, Mara.'

‘Stop picking on me!' she burst out.

He gestured in exasperation. ‘What am I supposed to do? First of all I'm handling you with kid gloves, then I'm picking on you.' He walked off.
Women!
said the thought bubble trailing after him. After a moment Mara followed. Just because he kissed your friends, jeered the fishwife. Yes, but he shouldn't have. Either he's celibate, or he's not. He shouldn't fool around.