The Second Time I Saw You: The Oxford Blue Series #2 (5 page)

‘Well, you know me. Anything in pants, or in Angus’s case, a skirt. Or rather, anything human in pants, which kind of rules you out.’ I joke, while seething inside.

‘Oh, I think you’re doing rather well, without adding me to your tally. Let me see, Alexander, Angus, Henry Favell and that American I saw you with in the pub …’ He ticks off the names on his fingers. ‘Four men in one term is going some, although I suppose a girl as stunning as you only has to snap her fingers to pick up whomever she wants. However, I
did
think you might have had better taste than Favell. You do know that Alexander can’t stand him since he shagged Emma?’

‘What?’ He tuts loudly and my stomach turns over at the revelation about Favell.
No
wonder
Alexander was so monumentally pissed at me flirting with him at the ball.

‘So you don’t know everything about the Hunts? I expect sweet and innocent young Emma was dazzled by the force of Henry’s personality. Fortunately for her – and him – once Henry got wind that Alexander was on his case, he turned all honourable and dropped Emma like a hot brick.’

‘When was this?’

‘Last summer. Emma’s seventeen now, of course, but Henry’s two years older than Alexander and me. You see, no matter what you think of me, even I wouldn’t sink so low as to screw a sixteen-year-old.’

If he thinks I’m going to compliment him on his chivalry, he can take a hike, but at least I can console myself that Emma’s no longer seeing Henry Favell. I also hadn’t realized she’d had a birthday over the vacation.

‘Are you saying that you and Alexander warned Henry off last year?’

Rupert smirks. ‘It’s a good thing that Alexander has some friends with his family’s best interests at heart, don’t you think? Lucky for Henry too, that someone warned him to keep away from Emma, otherwise, I think Mr Favell might now be talking in a very squeaky voice.’

My throat clogs with embarrassment at the memory of my drunken slow-dance with Henry Favell at the hunt ball, inspired, of course, by Alexander’s flirting with Valentina. I spot Emma a few yards away, a forlorn figure drowning in a sea of sympathy. General Hunt, Alexander, Henry … it seems as if everyone had some kind of plan for her, both well intentioned and otherwise. No wonder she kicks against the traces so hard; however, in Henry’s case, I think maybe Alexander’s done the right thing.

‘You have so much to learn about us,’ says Rupert.

‘I have to go. Emma needs me.’

He mimes applause. ‘My, you really have wormed your way into the heart of the family, haven’t you? But be careful what you wish for, Lauren, because if you threaten them, hell hath no fury like a Hunt scorned.’

I shake my head at him sadly. ‘Get a life, Rupert, and stop trying to live Alexander’s.’

I may have turned my back on him but inside I’m a little shaky from the confrontation. I can handle bitchiness and ignorance but Rupert’s constant barbs come
with an edge of malevolence. I’m not sure if he hates me because he wants to sleep with me – or possibly with Alexander – or because he just can’t stand the idea of an ‘outsider’ playing any part in the future of Falconbury. Not that I have any ambitions whatsoever in that direction; I don’t even know what will happen between Alexander and me tomorrow, let alone beyond. I also have no intention of telling Rupert any of this.

As I make my way over to Emma, she detaches herself from a group of relatives with barely a goodbye and I wince inwardly. I really don’t want to be seen to be taking her over and I don’t know why she sees me as some kind of ally, but I can’t abandon her.

She holds out her plate. ‘Would you like a pork pie? Dad loved them.’

‘I … um … thanks.’ Pastry wrapped around pig isn’t really my thing but I don’t want to offend Emma.

‘I’ve survived half an hour. Can we get out of here now?’

I swallow down a lump of the pie. ‘I’d like to let Alexander know we’re going out.’

‘Why? No one will miss us.’

‘They may not miss
me
but you’re a different matter. Can you possibly bear to stay a bit longer?’

She looks like the sky just fell in on her, which actually it has, to all intents and purposes. ‘Do I have to?’

‘You don’t
have
to but it would be a massive help to Alexander.’

She considers for a moment, then nods haughtily.
‘For Alex, I’ll do it, but I want to get Benny in here as a distraction.’

I’m worried that if she leaves the room, she won’t come back. ‘Sounds like a great idea but why don’t we get Helen to fetch him? Look, she’s just over there.’

We catch Helen’s eye and she gives in instantly to Emma’s request, grateful I think that she’s even emerged from her room. A few minutes later, Benny races into the ballroom, claws skittering on the parquet and tail wagging joyously in flagrant disregard of the sombre mood. Ignoring the mixed reception of smiles and frowns from the mourners tucking into the buffet, he makes a beeline for Emma. She sinks to her knees and throws her arms around his neck while he licks her face. I kneel down to ruffle his ears.

‘Hey there, boy.’

When I look up, Alexander is crossing the room towards us, glass in hand. His face is sombre but then Benny scents him and homes in like a heat-seeking missile.

‘Down, boy!’

Benny drops to his haunches instantly and gazes up in adoration at his master, tongue lolling. People have lost interest now and gone back to their food and networking. I drop to the floor and stroke Benny’s ears while he licks Alexander’s free hand, and Emma dutifully accepts the condolences of someone I’ve never seen before. I can see she’s struggling not to cry but at least she’s here.

‘Emma wanted him here while everyone had lunch. I hope it was OK.’

‘It’s fine.’ He sounds weary, as if he no longer cares about anything. I wonder if his phone call has made his day even worse.

I watch him carefully. ‘You OK?’

He keeps his eyes on the dog. ‘I don’t really know. I don’t feel anything,’ he says quietly. ‘And I intend not to feel anything for the rest of the day.’

An hour or so later, I clap my gloved hands together as we walk out of the woods and down the slope that leads to the stable block at the side of Falconbury. Benny sniffs at a tree stump and roots under the fallen leaves. At least someone is happy at Falconbury.

‘Are you sure you want to walk by the stables?’ I ask, still unsure that visiting somewhere so closely associated with General Hunt’s death is such a great idea. ‘It’s getting cold.’

Emma’s face falls. ‘Don’t you want to get a proper drink?’

‘Yes, but we’ve been out over an hour. Maybe we should get back. Alexander might need you …’

‘Oh, he’ll just be glad I’ve not run away or killed myself. He won’t mind you being out here and you must be happy to have avoided the rest of my relatives. Look! There’s Talia. Let’s go and get a drink.’

Benny barks happily when he spots – or sniffs – Talia,
the Hunts’ head groom, who greets all three of us with a hug.

‘Good to see you back,’ she says as Emma roots at the back of a battered filing cabinet in a closet at the side of the stable office. ‘I’d heard rumours that you and Alexander had split up, so I’m glad it was only gossip.’

I don’t know how to reply but luckily Emma lets out a shriek of delight and appears at the closet door, holding up a bottle of Stolichnaya. ‘I knew it. Got any tonic?’

‘This isn’t the Met Bar, you know.’ Talia softens and shakes her head. ‘I think there’s some cranberry juice in the staff fridge.’

Emma skips up the stairs that lead to the kitchen above the offices.

‘I’m surprised she wanted to come here, after what happened.’

‘Jesus, I know. I was on duty that day. I tacked the general’s horse up.’

‘God, I’m sorry.’

Talia shudders. ‘I’ve beaten myself up ever since in case I did something wrong, but the Master said there was nothing wrong with the tack. It was just one of those things.’

‘It wasn’t Calliope, was it?’ I ask, goose bumps rising on my skin when I remember my own experience on the weekend of the ball. A bird scarer caused my horse
to bolt and nearly threw me while I was hacking around the estate with Alexander.

‘No, it was a stallion …’ Talia looks down at her boots as if she might burst into tears, then she glances back at me and throws on a forced smile. ‘Valentina didn’t turn up, then?’ she says. ‘I was holding the fort here or I’d have come to the church.’

‘No. Some kind of family illness kept her in Italy.’

Talia snorts. ‘Typical! She’ll wait until the dirty stuff is over, but she’ll be here, I’d bet my job on it. There’s no way she’ll miss the opportunity to sink her claws into him now he’s in charge of Falconbury. Watch out.’

I manage a tight smile because I really like Talia and I suspect everything she says about Valentina is true, but I don’t want her or anyone to think I’m in some kind of battle to claim Alexander. I don’t even know what’s going to happen after today, and it bothers me that everyone we’ve met assumes he and I are an item again.

Emma brings out three glasses of cranberry and the bottle on an old tray.

‘Will you join us?’ I ask.

Talia grimaces. ‘Love to but I’m working. Horses need looking after even when their owner has died. I’ll have some juice but I can’t stay long.’ We chat about the horses for a while and it makes a welcome change from other subjects, then the ring of hooves reaches us from outside in the yard. Talia downs her juice. ‘Sorry, have to go. That’s one of the hunters back from his exercise and I want to see how his leg is doing.’

After Talia has gone, Emma flops down on the seat next to me and finishes her vodka.

‘Want another?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

She looks around the office and sighs. ‘Alex is almost as bad as Daddy is … was.’

‘Oh come on, you know that’s not true. He supports what you want to do at uni.’

‘He’s told you I want to go to Saint Martins? There’s a theatrical costume design course there I want to get on. I’ve applied but Daddy wanted me to have a gap year and try for Oxford. I got As in my Latin and Greek GCSEs but I hate them both. I love my Art and Drama classes, even though Daddy said they were a waste of time.’

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that the general had, possibly, relented on her plans to go to Saint Martins. It’s not my news to share but I’ll ask Alexander to tell her. Maybe it will give her some comfort.

‘I wish I could be a groom.’

‘I thought you wanted to be a costume designer.’

‘Oh, I
do
but what I really meant was that I’d love to be like Talia.’

‘Instead of what?’

‘Instead of being on show all the time, like today. If Dad had been a normal person, we could have had a few people round the house or a wake at a pub and it wouldn’t be in the papers and no one would expect me, or Alex, to be polite to everyone and act all
stiff-upper-lipped when what we really want to do is shout and scream and tell them all to leave us alone so we can howl the place down.’

I try to picture Alexander doing just that and can’t.

‘They’ll be gone soon. You can shout and scream then.’

She pushes her empty glass away from her. ‘I don’t want to do it now. I just want us to be together, Alex and me.’ She looks at me. ‘You can stay too. He really likes you, you know.’

I cover my awkwardness by drinking my vodka.

Emma jumps up before I’ve finished it. ‘Shall we go into the stables?’

‘If you like.’ I don’t know whether her restlessness is normal for her or she worries that if she keeps still for too long, she might think about what’s happened.

Benny stays in the yard while we walk between the stalls. It’s warm and the air is full of the sharp tang of horse, hay and dung. Emma stops outside Harvey’s stall and strokes his muzzle.

‘Hello, Harvey.’

I rub his nose. He was the horse I was supposed to ride on my hack but Valentina took him out, leaving me with the flighty Calliope.

‘Where’s Calliope?’ I ask.

‘On loan to the Huntmaster’s daughter,’ says Emma. ‘She’s going to be an Olympic eventing star and can handle her. Alex suggested it to Talia. I heard what happened to you.’

‘It’s OK. I was fine.’

‘Alex said you could have been killed. He told Dad that Calliope was dangerous.’ Emma pauses. ‘Alex has already given away the stallion that threw Dad. It wasn’t the horse’s fault but Alex didn’t want him here any more.’

‘I can understand that.’

Emma turns to me, her lip trembling. ‘I still can’t believe he’s gone.’

‘No, I guess you can’t.’

‘At least Dad won’t have to worry about me any more, though, will he?’

It seems an odd thing to say. ‘All parents worry. They’re hard-wired to. Trust me, mine do and I’m out of their hair altogether.’

‘Yes, but I’m sure you haven’t done anything to worry them like I have.’

I laugh. ‘You think? I split up with a guy they thought was perfect for me last summer and I ignored their pleas for me to stay and study in the States.’ I could add that I followed that up by getting involved with her brother, a troubled, difficult, arrogant guy who has cost me more sleepless nights in a few months than I’ve had in the rest of my whole life. Many of them were intensely pleasurable, however.

‘Bet you never got threatened with expulsion from school.’ Emma’s voice cuts into my happier memories.

‘Well, no …’

‘Or threatened to leave? Or smoked weed on the
battlements? Or got so pissed outside a club that your friends had to carry you into the taxi?’

‘I can’t say that happened but I’ve had my moments at university.’ A few hazing ceremonies spring to mind. Mine involved skinny-dipping in the fountains outside one of the faculty buildings at Brown, but I think I’ll keep that to myself also.

‘I bet you were never almost caught shagging someone in the cricket pavilion,’ says Emma. I’m not sure whether she’s trying to provoke me into my own confession or trying to shock me.

‘We didn’t play cricket at my school,’ I say with mock solemnity. ‘However, we do have a summerhouse at home.’ I recall having sex in it with Todd, my ex, during my grandmother’s birthday party. I’d forgotten about that.