Jilly Cooper - Octavia

There was a pause. The room was suffocatingly hot. I still hadn’t looked at him. A schoolgirl embarking on her first love affair couldn’t have behaved with more gaucheness. I felt hollow with longing and misery.

‘It’s very hot isn’t it?’ I said.

‘Very,’ said Gareth.

This wasn’t getting us very far. I got to my feet, edging towards the door.

‘I must get you some coffee.’

‘I don’t want any.’

‘I–I’ve got some work I’ve got to finish.’

He followed me into the general office, passing Miss Parkside on the way out, bearing her floral sponge-bag off to the Ladies.

‘It’s going-home time,’ he said.

‘I’ve got to finish these,’ I said, picking a page off the four separate piles of paper until they shook in my hand as though they were being fluttered by an electric fan.

Gareth looked at me for a minute.

‘You’re getting them all out of order,’ he said, taking them from me, and restacking them. He shoved them between the stapler and banged it down with one hand. Nothing happened.

‘Bloody thing’s run out,’ he said. ‘Come on, you can do them in the morning. I’ll buy you a drink.’

The bar was crowded with commuters who couldn’t face the journey home yet. Gareth found me a bar stool, I curled my feet round one of the legs, trying to control the hammering in my heart. In a minute I knew I’d wake up from a dream, and be crying back in bed in Putney. He handed me a gin and tonic and shot soda into his whisky. I took a slug of my drink at once, gripping it with both hands to stop them shaking.

I glanced up at the smoked mirror behind the bar; my eyes met Gareth’s. For a second we gazed at each other with a steady fascination, as though we were two quite different people, in another world for the first time. I felt if his sleeve touched mine the whole bar would burst into flames.

I tugged my eyes away and took another gulp.

‘You’ve lost a lot of weight,’ he said.

‘Have I?’

‘Too much.’

‘It’s the heat.’

He glanced at the beige sausage rolls and curling sandwiches in the glass case.

‘D’you want something now?’

I shook my head. A fire engine clanged past the door, followed by another.

‘D’you think it’ll ever rain again?’ I said.

I noticed for the first time how tired he looked, the black rings under his eyes, almost as dark as his eyebrows.

‘Is Seaford-Brennen too much of a sweat?’ I said.

‘Well it’s not exactly a day trip to Llandudno,’ he said. ‘Jakey’s very pleased with you, by the way.’

I felt myself blushing. ‘He is?’

‘Yep, and so am I. You haven’t just turned over a new leaf, Brennen, it’s a bloody great tree.’

He looked at me reflectively for a minute.

‘Why have you been crying your eyes out all afternoon?’

I took a hasty swig of my drink, the glass was too deep and it ran all over my face.

‘I’m trying to get my head sorted out,’ I said, frantically, wiping gin away with my sleeve. ‘So I started going to a shrink.’

‘Jesus, you don’t need a shrink.’

‘H-he thinks I do. He pounced on me today.’

I started to tremble again. For a moment Gareth’s hand tightened on my arm, then he said,

‘The bastard. Report him to the medical council.’

‘I don’t think you can report shrinks, but it was a shock. I sort of trusted him.’

‘You give me his name and address, and I’ll get him kicked out,’ said Gareth. He was really angry. God, he was being so nice, any minute I’d start crying again. I took a bite of my lemon peel.

‘Lorna rang me this afternoon,’ I said. ‘She was in the country.’

Suddenly he looked evasive and shifty. He got out a packet of cigarettes, and when I refused one, lit one for himself.

‘She said she had something special to tell me,’ I went on, ‘but she wouldn’t tell me over the telephone in case it upset me.’

Gareth shook his ice round in his glass.

‘Do you want another drink?’

I shook my head, the lump was getting bigger and bigger in my throat.

‘She sounded over the moon, like Xander,’ I continued. ‘I guess she was trying to tell me she was getting married.’

‘Yep,’ said Gareth. ‘That’s about it.’

‘Soon?’ I said.

‘Pretty soon. Lorna’s one of those girls who wants to keep her virginity for marriage. She’s worried she can’t hold out much longer.’

‘Bully for her,’ I whispered.

‘She feels terribly guilty,’ he went on. ‘She’s worried stiff about upsetting you, and she knows Hesketh and Bridget are going to say she’s too young.’

‘You can’t win them all,’ I said in a choked voice.

‘Look Octavia, you’re a beautiful, beautiful girl. There are plenty of other guys in the sea, and masses on land for that matter.’

‘Sure,’ I said numbly, the tears beginning to course down my cheeks.

He took my hand; it was all I could do not to fling myself into his arms.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he went on. ‘Look I’ve got nothing to do tonight. I’ll buy you dinner and we can talk about it.’

‘No you won’t. It’s very kind, but no thank you,’ I said, wiping away the tears with the back of my hand. ‘I’ve already got a date,’ and breaking away, I slid off the bar stool and fled out of the bar.

‘Octavia, wait,’ I heard his voice calling after me. Then I plunged down into the Underground.

When I got back to Putney, Monkey threw himself on me, yelping with ecstasy, taking my hand in his mouth, and leading me up the path. I found Mrs Lonsdale-Taylor grumbling about the heat and the greenfly and pouring boiling water on a plague of ants who were threatening to enter the house. The dustmen were on strike and hadn’t collected for two weeks; the stench of Jeyes fluid in the dustbins was almost worse than yesterday’s smell of rotting food and vegetation.

Mrs Lonsdale-Taylor straightened up, scarlet in the face.

‘There’s a young man waiting for you upstairs,’ she said with a sniff, ‘he says he’s your brother.’

I bounded upstairs, I couldn’t wait to tell someone how miserable I was. Xander loved Gareth too; he would understand how suicidal I felt. I found him in my bedroom, his face had a luminous sickly tinge, as though he was standing under a green umbrella. A muscle was going in his cheek. The ashtray beside him on the table was piled high with half-smoked cigarettes.

‘Thank God you’ve come,’ he said. ‘I’m in dead trouble.’

His light brown hair, almost black from sweat, had fallen in a fringe over his forehead, emphasizing the brilliant grey eyes. He looked absurdly young. I ran across the room and put my arms round him.

‘What’s happened? Tell me. It’s not the baby?’

He shook his head.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I haven’t got anything to drink. Tell me what’s the matter.’

‘I’ve got to get £2,000 by tomorrow.’

‘God, whatever for?’

‘I’m being blackmailed.’

‘Then you must go to the police at once.’

‘I can’t,’ he said with a groan. He was near to tears. I realized I was the one who had to stay as calm and cool as a statue.

‘You must go to the police; they’ll keep your name out of it. What on earth have you done? It can’t be that bad.’

The door suddenly opened, making us both jump, but it was only Monkey. He trotted over and curled up at Xander’s feet. I kicked the door shut.

‘Who is it?’ I asked.

‘It’s Guido,’ said Xander in a dead voice.

‘Guido?’

‘The Italian boy, the good-looking one you met that day we had lunch at Freddy’s, before you went on the boat with Gareth and Jeremy.’