Alice Adams - Invincible Summer

Lucien catapulted out of bed and was halfway out the door when he stopped and turned back.

‘Eva?’

‘Yes?’

‘You were tempted, right?’ He smiled his wickedest grin and stood there, unashamedly naked, his tall, naturally slender body sculpted by all the hours he’d spent in the prison gym. Eva ran her gaze across him. Even now, she felt a pang of longing to touch him that was so deeply written into the fabric of her being that she doubted it would ever disappear altogether. Could you ever completely shake off those teenage loves or did they stay with you forever, no matter how ludicrous they became?

‘You’ve made me some pretty bad offers in your time, Lucien Marchant, but that was undoubtedly the worst,’ she told him, and smiled as he ran for the shower.

From:benedict.waverley@cern.ch

To:eva.andrews21@hotmail.com

Date:Saturday 8th February 2010 18:04

Subject:It’s been a while. .

Hey Eva,

Sorry it’s been a while. I tried your Morton Brothers email but it bounced back so I guess you’ve moved on to bigger and better things. Or who knows, maybe you’ve renounced worldly gain and gone off with Julian to live in an organic yurt commune or something.

I know I didn’t reply to the last few emails you sent a couple of years ago. I suppose you gave up on me and I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine you want to listen to me moaning on, but I do finally want to explain why I’ve been AWOL.

Gulp. Here goes. A while back I did something I’m not very proud of. I cheated on Lydia. It wasn’t that long after that disastrous lunch we had together in London, when you and she had a bit of a set-to. Anyway, you might have noticed at the time that we weren’t doing very well together, and then I totally screwed things up by getting drunk and having sex with another CERNite at the Christmas party, and after that the only way I could make amends and save my marriage was by doing whatever Lydia wanted, and one of those things was for me to stay away from you.

Eva, please understand that I was desperate to keep my family together and petrified of losing my kids. Obviously I realize now that I should have at least explained, but I couldn’t face telling you that I was a spineless sexual incontinent who had to allow my wife to decide who I could be friends with. So I bottled it. Or rather, kept kicking the can down the road thinking I’d get round to sorting it all out at a better time, except a better time never materialized and the longer I left it the harder it was to get in touch and explain.

Needless to say, things didn’t work out with Lydia. We limped on together for a while, and then finally divorced about eighteen months ago. I’ve thought about getting in touch with you a lot since then, but to be honest I’ve been a bit of a wreck, because even when your marriage is categorically unsalvageable, it turns out that divorce is really, really painful. It physically hurts the heart. Anyway, I’m back in London working at Imperial College — I’m still on the team looking for the Higgs but it’s mostly analysing data for me now. I have the boys every other weekend and Wednesday nights and Lydia and I are on relatively civil terms, so I think we’re going to be okay but my God, it’s been a rough ride to get here.

If you can forgive me enough to write back, I’d love to know how you’re doing, where the road has taken you. I know things have sometimes been complicated between us, but aren’t they always, one way or another? Hasn’t life just turned out to be like that?

Benedict

From:eva.andrews21@hotmail.com

To:benedict.waverley@cern.ch

Date:Sunday 9th February 2010 11:36

Subject:RE: It’s been a while. .

‘a couple of years’

That would be what, FOUR of them?

Honestly, I’m glad you’ve been having a really bad time, because frankly you deserve it. So you dropped off the edge of the planet because you couldn’t face making yourself look bad? Guess what? It’s not all about you. Did it ever occur to you that maybe there would have been times when I needed a friend, even a feeble-minded, sexually incontinent one? You think you’re the only one who’s had a difficult few years?

From:benedict.waverley@cern.ch

To:eva.andrews21@hotmail.com

Date:Sunday 9th February 2010 17:15

Subject:RE: It’s been a while. .

I’m so sorry. You’re right. I’ve been utterly self-obsessed, and a terrible friend. This is going to sound awful, but it honestly hadn’t occurred to me that you might be having tough times too. Everything was going so well last time I heard from you. I have no defence. I’d like to try to make it up to you if you’ll let me, with a butt-clenchingly earnest apology and pretty much anything else you ask for.

What’s been happening? I really hope things haven’t been too bad for you, but you’re making me worry. .

From:eva.andrews21@hotmail.com

To:benedict.waverley@cern.ch

Date:Tuesday 11th February 2010 19:32

Subject:RE: It’s been a while. .

It’s taken me a couple of days to answer because I’ve really had to think hard about how to respond. Even though that last message was half-joking, the truth is that it *has* been a really tough few years. I know it’s never been the done thing to say how we really feel but I’m getting too old to beat around the bush, so here it is. You really hurt me, Benedict. I know things were never straightforward between us, but to just ditch me like that without an explanation? That was pretty low and I’ve spent the last couple of days thinking about whether I want someone who could do that back in my life. I’m only giving you the benefit of the doubt because it sounds like you’ve been having a bad time too, but don’t kid yourself that I forgive you because I don’t.

Here’s what’s been happening. I can’t remember whether you knew that Sylvie was pregnant (I have a feeling I told you in one of the emails you never replied to) but she had a baby, a beautiful little girl named Allegra who is now nearly four. There’s no easy way of explaining this so I’ll just come out and say it: the hospital didn’t monitor her properly and as a result she was starved of oxygen at birth and has some brain damage. She spent months in hospital before she could come home and it’s still not totally clear what the prognosis is for her in the long term. She definitely has some developmental delay and a bit of cerebral palsy, mainly down one side. The doctors didn’t seem terribly hopeful at the beginning but she’s outstripped our expectations. And, oh Benedict, you should see her. She’s all enormous eyes and perfect little fingers and toes. I was never too keen on kids before, but I suppose now I do understand a tiny bit of why it was so important to you to keep your family together.

Anyway, Sylvie’s marriage to Robert (my old boss) didn’t last long — no surprises there. Being a father, let alone to a disabled child with everything that entails, wasn’t a part of his life plan and he decamped pretty soon after the birth, though he did at least have the decency to give Sylvie the house, and I’m living there with her now.

What else? You may or may not be surprised to hear that Lucien got caught with a load of coke and sent to prison just before Allegra arrived (that’s a whole other story, he’s out now), so there’s really been no one else and I’ve helped out with the baby as much as I can. In the early days I worried that Sylvie would just fall apart but after the initial shock wore off she’s sort of grown into her new life and seems a lot stronger now. It’s weird, throughout our twenties she seemed lost and the spark just went out of her, but even though life’s not exactly easy for her now, it feels like she’s got the fight back in her. She’s started painting again too, and recently managed to get a few of her pieces into the Affordable Art Fair and they actually sold, so it seems as though things are finally starting to happen for her.