The English Boys (15 page)

“You lied,” she said, yawning. “You're good, and I can't keep up with you tonight.”

He leaned back, his eyes betraying the fact that he was tired too. She got up and pulled a quilt from the wardrobe and handed it to him. “It's late. You can stay on the sofa, if you like.”

“You don't mind?”

“Of course not. It's not much, but … ”

“It's great. Thanks.”

She went into the toilet and came back, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. “I don't have an extra toothbrush. Sorry.”

“That's all right.” He held out his index finger and she squirted some of the paste on it, but instead of following her into the loo, he went into the kitchen and bent over the sink.

She changed into black shorts and an old sweatshirt, and he untied his shoes and set them neatly on the floor by the sofa. Then she brought him a pillow and crawled into the small bed on the opposite wall, pulling the quilt up to her chin. Afterward, she turned off the lamp, and neither of them uttered a word, each falling asleep within minutes, the weight of their struggles with their personal demons lifting in the comforting black of night.

When Daniel woke the next morning, he felt somehow different, knowing he would see Carey as soon as he opened his eyes. The feeling shocked him. He heard the shower being turned on and could smell the coffee she had made and put on the table beside him. She must have come close to him, and he wondered if she'd put it down quickly or lingered over him. He tried to get hold of himself. He had an unnaturally strong feeling for her because of what they were going through. The two of them were on a lifeboat in the middle of the sea; they would either both drown or both be saved, but it was something they would experience together. No one else could help them through the storm they were facing now.

“Shall I make breakfast?” she asked when she came out of the shower, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She pulled the tie of her robe tighter, smiling.

“No, thanks,” he said, collecting himself. He took a quick gulp of coffee and stood, folding the quilt and placing it on the sofa. “I have things to do this morning.”

In fact, he didn't, but it was time to leave and think about what the hell they were playing at. The morning intimacy with Tamsyn's younger sister was somehow more than he could stand.

Twenty-One

It was two days
before Christmas when it all fell apart. Daniel was standing by the firepl
ace at the Ashley-Hunts' house in Glouc
estershire, a drink in hand, listening to a toast being made by one of Hugh's cousins at the annual Christmas party. It was the one time of year when sloppy sentimentalism was tolerated by Hugh's father, and a round of toasts and long litanies of family history were recited by half of those present as they drank copious amounts of wine. Tamsyn sat in a chair on the other side of the room, listening, as he was, with half an ear. She wore a form-fitting black sweater over an ankle-length skirt of red and green, a sort of patchwork contraption where the fraying seams were on the outside of the garment rather than the inside. He smiled. She was a rebel to the core.

He yearned to check his watch for the time, but caught Hugh's mother's eye and didn't dare. Tomorrow, he would drive down to Brighton. He could hardly think of anything he less wanted to do. Not because his parents were there, of course, but leaving Tamsyn here, in the warm little circle of Ashley-Hunts, to enjoy Christmas Eve and Christmas Day as a family was a difficult cross to bear.

When the three of them were in London, things were different. He often met Tamsyn on her own for lunch and they took long walks in their favorite places. She was fond of Kensington Gardens, which happened to be near his flat. One of the pools, although manicured within an inch of its life, had a natural effect that both of them enjoyed. There was also, within a long expanse of the wall, a small door, barely four feet tall, with a square window set on the diagonal and boarded up. He argued the door was an entrance to the lawn equipment, but she disagreed with him. The Duchess of Cambridge, she was certain, was just on the other side, probably feeling cooped up and restless in spite of the massive renovations that had been undertaken to make it a perfect royal home. He loved that about Tamsyn. She made him look at everything differently.

The idea of leaving her in Gloucestershire was more than depressing. If they were on their own, he could have discovered what she really wanted to do for Christmas, and he didn't for a moment think she would choose a poncy Ashley-Hunt holiday. Daniel had the strong suspicion that Hugh was going to propose to her, and he was afraid that he would find out about it days later when they'd gone home and settled back into their ordinary routines.

He took a couple of steps back, and when that did not attract attention, he turned and went into the kitchen. He set his glass of wine on the counter and put his hands in his pockets, turning toward the window, feeling black and miserable. A moment later, he heard footsteps behind him.

“The toasts go on forever, don't they?” he heard Caroline Ashley-Hunt say.

He turned to face her. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave. I've had some things on my mind.”

“I hope everything is all right,” she said. She put her glass on the counter as well and walked over to adjust a few canapés on a tray. “Do you think we have enough shrimp?”

He glanced at the tray and nodded. “The food is amazing. You're the perfect hostess.”

“May I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

He knew what was coming, and he didn't want to answer it.

“Are Hugh and Tamsyn serious?”

Daniel was terrified of saying the wrong thing. He didn't want to lie to Mrs. Ashley-Hunt, who had been generous and kind to him through the years and genuinely interested in his life as he got older. He also didn't want to reveal any of Hugh's thoughts or motivations to his mother. It was for his friend to decide what to tell his parents and when, though it seemed clear enough to him that Hugh and Tamsyn were heading for an engagement. Perhaps most importantly, he didn't like to discuss Tamsyn with anyone, no matter how well he knew them.

“I don't know,” he answered.

It was true enough. With Tamsyn, one could never be certain how serious she was. She had her little secrets, he knew.

“Would you mind helping me with this tray?” she asked.

If he wasn't going to tell her anything, she wouldn't continue to press him. He gave her his most charming smile.

“I'd be happy to. You throw a wonderful party.”

By the time they arrived back in the living room, the toasts were over and people were chatting and having another glass of wine. Three or four people reached out to take an hors d'oeuvre from the tray as if he were a waiter, and it was a couple of moments before he managed to set it on the large table with the others. Caroline had disappeared into the crowd, and he hoped the matter would be forgotten. He thought he would be fine, and then Tamsyn walked over to him.

“I have something for you,” she said, pulling a package from behind her back.

She didn't wait for him to open it. Like a child, she pulled away the paper herself. It was a book: a pristine, shiny copy of
The Age of Innocence
. Daniel had never read it, but he had seen the film, a tragic story of unrequited love. He looked up at her. She wasn't sending him some sort of message, was she? Did he even want her to? Wouldn't it be simpler for all of them if he carried a torch for her without anyone suspecting?

“It's perfect,” he said, taking it when she held it out. “You know I love to read.”

Hugh came up beside them and didn't seemed to notice any particular significance to the gift.

“Where's mine?” he asked, his eyes glittering.

“Oh, you'll get yours,” Tamsyn said, making them both smile.

“My gift for you is under the tree,” Daniel said. “You can have it on Christmas, and not before.”

“Tell me what it is.”

“Doesn't that spoil the surprise?”

“That's fine with me. I hate surprises.”

“It's that horrid little scarf you liked so much, that we saw last week. The one with the metallic things dangling on the ends.”

“I love that scarf!” Tamsyn cried. “You went back and got it? Aren't you wonderful!”

“Well,” Hugh said, reaching into his pocket. “If we're giving gifts early … ”

Tamsyn took the posh little box wrapped in a black velvet bow. She slid off the ribbon and lifted the lid, revealing a diamond bracelet inside. The diamonds were round, alternating large and small stones, set in platinum. Daniel couldn't resist raising an eyebrow.

“Merry Christmas, indeed,” he said, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder.

“Nothing but the best for our girl, eh?” Hugh said.

Tamsyn clapped the lid back onto the box and smiled. “It's beautiful. Thank you.”

“Come on,” Hugh said, taking her by the arm. “I haven't introduced you to my aunt and uncle yet.”

Tamsyn was pulled away into the crowd. Someone, possibly Hugh's father, had turned on music and the golden tones of Frank Sinatra filled the room. Daniel went to the back of the house and let himself out the door. Standing on the step, he patted his pockets, located his cigarettes, and lit one. It was trying very hard to snow. There were light, tinkling bits of drizzle but he withstood it, fixing his eyes on the trees beyond. It was dark now, pitch dark, with only the muted illumination of the lights from the house splaying across the lawn. The moon was hidden behind the clouds.

He realized suddenly that he was angry. If he had been Hugh, he would have waited until a private moment to give Tamsyn something as expensive as a diamond bracelet, not whipped it out in front of someone else for effect. But perhaps, Daniel thought, it was for his benefit, not Tamsyn's; a message to stay away from what was rightfully Hugh's. Never, in all of the years he had known Hugh, had a girl ever come between them. Daniel had promised himself in Dorset that it wouldn't happen this time either, but the situation was becoming more difficult by the second.

Did Hugh really love her? Or had he seen that Daniel was falling for her and stepped in to claim the prize? Hugh was competitive, the way any healthy, successful twenty-nine-year-old was competitive, but that didn't mean he was out to deprive his best friend of the girl he wanted most.

Maybe it was best, after all, that he was headed to Brighton in the morning. He needed time to think. He certainly couldn't do that here, with diamond bracelets being unwrapped under his nose. Daniel took a last puff of the cigarette and then let himself back into the house, going up the back staircase up to his room. He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to think about nothing.

After a while, he heard a knock on the door and it opened slowly. Tamsyn peered around the edge with a smile.

“Want some company?” she asked.

“Of course.”

He propped himself up as she sat down on the foot of his bed, pulling her legs under her and plucking at one of the frayed seams of her skirt.

“Where's Hugh?” he asked.

He had expected a long night, knowing their room was next door. He could handle their relationship as long as they were reasonably discreet, when it was something he didn't have to think about on an hourly basis, but knowing there was a single wall between them would be harder to bear.

“The men are having cigars. I'm sure they're wondering where you are.”

“I'm tired,” he said.

“What's the real reason?” she asked. “Too chummy in there for you?”

“I just didn't feel like it,” he answered. He didn't want to get into specifics with the one person who was the reason for his mood swings.

“I loved the scarf,” Tamsyn said, kicking off her shoes and tossing them onto the floor. The thick carpet muted the sound. “I opened it after you disappeared.”

“It's hard to shop for the girl who has everything,” he teased.

“You know what I like.”

“Where's the bracelet?” he asked, even though he knew that he shouldn't. “I didn't see you put it on.”

“It didn't go with this outfit, did it?” she demurred.

He was hard-pressed to think of anything she owned that it would go with at all. There was an unspoken thought hanging in the air. Why didn't Hugh understand exactly what sort of girl Tamsyn was? Or did he see something in her that Daniel just hadn't seen yet, the future lady of the manor house and film star? Somehow, Daniel couldn't imagine her any differently than she was at this moment.

“Those were some pretty boring toasts tonight,” he remarked. “You put a brave face on it, though.”

She laughed. “I think that's my future, right there.”

“No doubt.”

“Do you always come to the Ashley-Hunt holiday party?”

“Most years, yes. But I don't stay on through Christmas.”

“You're leaving in the morning,” she said.

“Have to put in an appearance at my parents'.”

“I wish you didn't have to leave. If you stay, we could take a snowy ride tomorrow or do something adventurous, like build a bonfire.”

“You'll have plenty to keep you busy here,” he assured her. “Hugh will see to that.”

She moved from the end of the bed to sit next to him. Without a word, she reached up and touched his chin with her hand and turned it gently toward her. She lifted her face to his and their lips met. He was powerless to stop her. He knew then that anything she wanted from him was hers. He didn't want to betray Hugh, but his friend was so far from his thoughts as to be completely inconsequential. She kissed him fully, and the spark was as sharp as an electric current. Daniel's heart began to pound. As he moved his hand to cup her precious, elfin face, she suddenly pulled back. She smoothed back his hair for a lingering moment, and then stood, retrieving her shoes from the floor. Then she slipped out of the room without a word, closing the door tightly behind her.