Lady in Waiting

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Lady in Waiting Page 25

by Lady Victoria Hervey


  We slowed down as we approached the station, and I scanned the people waiting on the platform, desperately trying to see the one face I looked for.

  I hopped on the balls of my feet as I waited for the doors to unlock, mumbling under my breath for them to hurry up. They finally slid open, and I leapt from the train. I tried to spot Peter, but couldn’t see him.

  “Freddie!”

  Whipping around at the sound of his voice, I grinned when he came into view. I sprinted towards him and threw my arms around his neck when I reached him. Peter lifted me off my feet and pressed his face into my throat.

  “I missed you,” he murmured.

  “Not as much as me.”

  He set me back on my feet and lowered his head to press his lips to mine. “Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Peter led me to the car park and gestured for me to get into a little red hatchback. The back seat was crammed with camping equipment—tents, a kettle, barbeque and cool box.

  “What’s all this?” I asked him with a grin.

  “Your surprise,” he answered, with his own smile. “My friend is covering for me. I thought tonight would be nice to get away from everyone, everything.”

  “Are we camping?”

  Peter reached over to squeeze my knee. “Yes, but be prepared to do most of the heavy lifting. I’ve never made a campfire in my life.”

  A laugh bubbled in my throat. “I’ll look after you, I promise. I’m a pro at camping—we did it all the time at Bourne Park, and we used to make campfires with flint.”

  He drove us to a woodland area and parked the car. After ignoring his protests, I helped carry some of the gear to our little camping ground. I sat in a folding chair for an hour as I watched Peter wrestle with the little two-man tent. When he whacked himself with a pole for the third time, he admitted defeat and allowed me to take over.

  In no time at all, the tent was up, the campfire was crackling nicely, the barbeque was heating up and the sleeping bags were unrolled. It was a lot cooler in the woods, especially with the day fading, and Peter gave me his jumper to put over mine.

  We cooked beef burgers on the barbeque and for pudding there were some Dip Dabs.

  I think I fell a little bit more in love with Peter for that gesture. He already knew me so well.

  Technically, we had known each other for a year. But it had only been a couple of months, really. Peter knew me better than a lot of people. He knew what made me laugh, what made me happy, sad and everything in between. We were so similar in a lot of ways, and yet at the same time, vastly different. I had an adventurous heart—I loved climbing trees and scraping my knees and zooming all over the world on my school trips. Peter preferred the slower pace, the company of his books and familiar settings.

  He was by no means boring. Whenever we saw each other, Peter told me about some of the parties he had gone to and what mischief he and his friends had got up to.

  One of my favourite things about him was that he had the ability to make me slow down. Usually I was scurrying around at a million miles an hour, rushing to some sports practice, hurrying to class, dashing off to London to see Fenella. But with Peter, I could pause and catch my breath. We could stand still and talk and enjoy the moment we were living in.

  Every time I saw him, my feelings grew more intense. The more I saw him, the more I wanted to see him.

  Peter was also ever so patient with me. The first time I’d visited him at school, I had worried he would expect certain things from me. But he’d been the perfect gentleman—aside from kissing the life right out of me—and had never pushed anything I wasn’t ready for.

  “I can’t believe it’s almost Easter,” Peter said. We were sprawled out on top of the sleeping bags inside the tent. The door was zipped shut to keep out the bugs and it was quiet, like we were the only two people in the world.

  “Mmm,” I murmured sleepily. I was tucked into his chest with his arm loosely draped over me. With his other hand, Peter slid his fingers through my hair, sending delicious shivers down my spine.

  “After Easter it’ll be exams, then finally summer. Then uni.” Peter chuckled. “Time is flying.”

  Why does it feel like time is running out?

  My eyes flew open, the now familiar dread settling low in my stomach whenever I thought about university.

  “I’ve never even asked,” Peter said, giving me a small nudge. “Where are you planning on going?”

  I imagined myself standing at the airport, playing eenie meenie miney mo with the departure board. “St Finbars.”

  Peter didn’t reply, and for a second I thought he hadn’t heard me. Then he sat bolt upright, jolting my body with his sudden movement. “Are you serious?”

  With a frown, I replied, “Yes, why?”

  Peter grinned. “Freddie, that’s where I’m going.”

  “What?” I laughed. “Really?”

  He nodded, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Yes. This is amazing. We’re going to be together next year.”

  My smile wasn’t at all forced. It would be amazing to be at St Finbars with Peter, to see him every day and not have to sneak out to visit him. Knowing Peter would be there too would give me something positive to focus on, instead of all this worry that had been gnawing in my gut.

  So why, instead of relief, did the dread turn to a heavy stone?

  The day after I flew home to Monaco, we flew to Courchevel in the Alps for our annual Easter skiing holiday. It was a welcome distraction. I was so busy every day and exhausting myself so that by night time I slipped into comas rather than sleep. It gave me a welcome break from all the thinking I had been doing recently.

  We had lessons in the day to brush up our techniques. Louisa had got so good it wouldn’t be long until she was out on the harder slopes with me and Augustus.

  There was a bittersweet feeling to the holiday, because Daddy wasn’t with us. It awoke the familiar grief that weighed heavy in my heart. I missed him so much. More than anything, I wanted to curl up on his lap and tell him the secret wishes I kept, and ask for his guidance on what to do.

  But deep down, I already knew.

  Mummy and Daddy had both always told me my place was at St Finbars, getting a good education so I could be anything I wanted.

  What if what I wanted was to be free to make my own path?

  My last night in Monaco, I tossed and turned in my bed for hours. In the end I gave up and went to the kitchen to get a drink.

  A single light burned in the room, casting a soft glow on Mummy, who sat at the table nursing a mug of cocoa. She smiled when she spotted me, and fastened her dressing gown more tightly around her slim body. “Hello, darling. What’s the matter, can’t you sleep?”

  I smiled and shook my head.

  Mummy rose from the table and patted my shoulder. “Have a seat, I’ll get you a hot cocoa.”

  I took the chair beside Mummy’s, and drew my knees up to my chest.

  “It’s not like you to be nervous about going back to school. Are you thinking about your exams?”

  “A little. My head just feels really full these days.”

  “There’s a lot to think about. But once your exams are over, you have the whole summer to relax before going back for university.”

  My stomach churned. “Peter will be there, did I tell you?” I asked her quietly.

  “No,” Mummy said with a smile. “How exciting. You must be delighted.”

  I nodded. When I had spoken to Mummy after the Christmas holidays, I had told her all about Peter. Well, as much as I’d dared with ten other girls listening in to the conversation. She was happy for me that I had met someone I really liked. And it turned out she knew his grandparents, which didn’t surprise me at all, as Mummy and Daddy always seemed to know somebody who knew somebody.

  “Cassandra isn’t going to university right away. She’s doing a gap year first. Isn’t that exciting?” My heart picked up speed as I wondered how she would react. Mummy, while so kind an
d gentle, was also super strict, especially when it came to formal matters and doing what was right and expected of someone.

  Mummy pursed her lips. “Hmm. I’ve always thought people who did gap years lack motivation.”

  “Why? She’s still going to university, she’s just delaying it for a little while,” I said, parroting Cassandra’s own words back to Mummy.

  “If she doesn’t go now, I doubt she will ever go.” Mummy gave me a sharp look. “I hope she hasn’t been filling your head with nonsense, Frederica.”

  I swallowed the rising emotion in my throat. My hesitation was all the confirmation Mummy needed.

  She sighed. “Oh, Frederica, what on earth are you thinking? Do you know how disappointed Daddy would be if he knew you were considering upsetting the family like this?”

  “Why would I upset everyone, though? Mummy, I’ve been in boarding school for ten years, I feel like I’ve already been to university. I’m sick of living with other girls and having a cramped bedroom and living by a schedule made up for me by someone else. I want to just live for a little while.” I sucked in a deep breath, my pulse rocketing.

  The idea of a gap year had been whirling around in my mind for months now, but until I’d spoken about it out loud, I hadn’t realised just how passionately I didn’t want to go to university.

  Mummy stood up and rinsed her mug out in the sink. She looked out of the window and kept her back to me. “It’s only another four years. Once you graduate from university we can talk about you possibly taking a month or two to travel before you get your first job. In the meantime, I want you to forget about this silly notion. For goodness’s sake, you’re the oldest, Frederica. Think about the example you are setting for your brother and sister.”

  Sadness and fury welled up inside me.

  Why did it fall to me to be the example? Why couldn’t I be the child for once, and play and have fun and not think about the consequences? I bet Louisa, when the time came, would never even ask Mummy for permission to do a gap year. She would just go. But that was Louisa’s motto—better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

  “Now off to bed, or you’ll be exhausted in the morning.”

  I nodded then hurried out of the kitchen before Mummy could see the tears streaking down my face.

  At the beginning of term, my friends and I decided we wanted to leave something behind at Mapleton Manor. A legacy of sorts, something physical to say that we had been there. And that we were awesome.

  There was loads of scrap wood in the craft shed, and after getting some sketchy plans from a book in the library, we set about building a boat. Our idea was that it could be used to row around the lake on warm spring days, enjoying the weather and getting some exercise. But we also thought the girls could use it for Polly Pearl night, and really make it something worth remembering.

  A few weeks after we’d returned to Mapleton Manor after Easter, it was ready. Our exams were about to start and we decided to have one last fun outing with all of us together before we had to buckle down and study our butts off.

  We carried the boat across the grounds from the craft shed to the lake.

  After all, we had to make sure she was seaworthy.

  “This is brilliant,” Annie said, squealing with delight.

  “I know!” Cassandra agreed. “I can’t believe we actually built a boat. They are so going to remember us forever.”

  “This thing had better float,” Jemima grumbled.

  Athena caught my eye and we pulled a face before giggling.

  “What are you two laughing at?” Jemima asked.

  “Why, nothing at all, Jemima, dear,” Athena said with mock innocence.

  At the lake, we eased the boat into the water and let it bob for a few minutes. When no leaks appeared and she stayed afloat fine, we clamoured inside, shrieking and yelping when it swayed from side to side.

  The last thing any of us wanted was to fall into the lake. Green pond scum floated on the surface of the water, and the water itself was a murky, muddy brown.

  Yes, we wanted to leave a boat so the younger girls could enjoy a spot of rowing…but no one would ever, ever want to risk putting a single toe in the water.

  We settled down, taking seats and huddling together. Alicia and Harriet rowed, each taking an oar. For a while we went around in circles until they found their rhythm. When we reached the middle of the lake, the girls stopped rowing so we could just bob and float and relax.

  “This is the life,” Annie said as she tipped her face towards the sun.

  “I think I’d rather be on the Poseidon and enjoy real sunshine,” I teased.

  “That sounds like heaven,” Athena murmured.

  “My foot is wet,” Harriet said in a curious voice. “Why is my foot wet?”

  We all dropped our eyes to the floor of the boat and saw a little water seeping in and gathering at the bottom.

  Glancing around at each other, it was clear we were all trying not to panic. “I’m sure it’s nothing. But perhaps we should…” Cassandra started.

  “Head back?” Jemima finished.

  Harriet and Alicia started their rowing again, taking it slow and easy…just in case.

  Annie shrieked. “There’s a leak back here!”

  “And here!” Athena yelped.

  “She’s sinking!” Jemima screamed.

  I held my hands out, trying to calm the girls down. “Stop, nobody panic! It’s going to be—”

  An ominous crack halted my words. There was a split second where we all looked horrified at one another then accepted our fate.

  The boat seemed to break and split at every possible place it could. It came apart and unceremoniously dumped us all in the lake. I surfaced, and one by one, so did everyone else. Coughs and splutters filled the air, along with shrieks.

  “Oh my god!” Someone screamed.

  “Urgh…something touched my leg!”

  “I’m going to be sick… I’m going to be sick…”

  “This water stinks!”

  We scrambled for shore so quickly we could have broken the land-speed record. The second we were on dry land, we made a run for Crosby.

  Housemistress gasped when she saw us race in, her face turning to disgust when she caught a whiff of us. “Don’t tell me you girls have been swimming in the lake?”

  “Not intentionally!” Athena called to her.

  There was a fight for the showers, all of us squirming beneath the lake muck and needing to wash it off. But soon we were clean and sparkly again, and only the phantom grossness remained.

  So much for leaving a legacy, but I doubted any of us would forget that afternoon.

  At last the exams were over. I felt the way I usually did after them—a little on the frazzled side but more or less optimistic. Annie and I had gone our traditional route of studying by cramming the night before, listening to music and staying up all night with the help of Pro Plus.

  The afternoon of my last exam, I caught the train to Upton to see Peter. I hadn’t seen him since before Easter, and it had been far too long. He sneaked me in to his room again, and like all the other times, no one was any the wiser.

  We stayed up all night talking, kissing…being young and foolish. The room began to lighten as the sun rose lazily in the sky. Before I knew it, it was almost time to leave again.

  I lay wrapped up in Peter’s arms, breathing in the scent of him, which did crazy dangerous things to my heart. His bright green eyes studied my face, sweeping over every plane, every dip and curve as though he wanted to commit me to memory.

  “I really hate saying goodbye to you,” Peter murmured quietly. He gripped my hip and tugged me closer to him, drawing me into his body.

  “So do I,” I whispered. “Do you ever feel like we wasted time?”

  “Because of the dance last year?” Peter shrugged. “Sometimes, but not really. Yeah, I guess we missed out on a few months together because of the misunderstanding. I don’t know about you, but I’m not planning o
n this relationship ending anytime soon.”

  My heart gave an uneven thump. I smiled and burrowed deeper into the crook of his neck. Peter felt safe and constant but at the same time exhilarating, like I was standing on the edge of a cliff.

  Peter released a long breath. “I just can’t wait for uni. No more sneaking out to see each other, no more disappearing for weeks at a time on school trips. Just you and me. In the same place. For years.”

  A cold chill swept down my spine.

  He meant his words to be a comfort—something to look forward to. A part of me was excited by what he’d said, couldn’t wait for that future he talked about. But the other, more dominant part, was terrified.

  “What’s the matter?” Peter asked. “You’ve gone as stiff as a board.”

  I forced myself to take a steadying breath. Leaning back, I peered up at his handsome face. How could I tell him the secrets I held in my heart? That the prospect of going to university now felt like a prison sentence?

  Giving my head a quick shake, I reached up to kiss him briefly. “Nothing, I was just thinking about the horrors of fresher dorms.”

  Peter chuckled. “I bet it won’t be so terrible. Who knows—maybe we’ll get sick of dorm life and get a place together, just you and me.”

  Despite my bleak mood, I smiled. “You would get sick of me for sure.”

  He kissed me. “I think I could see you every day of my life and never get sick of you.”

  “Peter,” I started, “do you ever feel like you’re doing things just to please other people?”

  Peter was quiet for a moment as he considered my question. “Like when I attempted to climb that tree to please you?”

  A laugh bubbled in my throat and I swatted his chest. “No, silly. I mean…important decisions. Like, was it your choice to go to St Finbars?”

  “A bit of both, really. My dad went there, and so did my grandfather. It was always presumed that’s where I would go too. But I want to go there, I like being part of a legacy.” Peter stroked my cheek. “Are you feeling pressured by your family?”

 

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