Complex Dimensions

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Complex Dimensions Page 9

by Brenda Murphy


  Millie cradled her glass in her hands. “A pleasure having you. I don’t have many visitors to my apartment.”

  “Why?” Veronica dug her fingers into her palm, not certain she wanted to hear the answer, but angry and hurt enough to ask if she was one of many. “Do you go to their rooms in the house?”

  A flash of anger crossed Millie’s face before she smoothed her expression. “Not in a very long time.” Millie turned back to the bar and poured herself another drink. “See you.”

  Veronica let herself out. Like everyone else. Only interested in my body. I’m not even a person to her. I’m some exotic prize to be won. She dashed her hand across her face to wipe away the thoughts of Millie with the other women in the house. Should’ve known. Should’ve guessed. She’s all that. But not with me. Unless it’s to win a contest. Fuck that. This was a quick hookup to win a bet. It wasn’t anything. Damn, I wanted it to be.

  Chapter Nine

  VERONICA KICKED THE covers off her legs and turned to her side. She turned on the light, picked up her book, and began reading, hoping the police procedural mystery would distract her from the bonfire of humiliation and anger in her chest. In her thoughts she sorted through her interactions with Millie, trying to pick apart why she had let her guard down and believed Millie was different. Two months of thinking Millie was special, someone who saw past her appearance. No matter how she added up the sum total of their interactions, the end result was always the same. Veronica had been some notch to carve, a prize, a goal. Something to brag about the next time the other women of the house sat around the dining table.

  “Not going to breakfast that’s for sure.” She spoke out loud. And then grimaced at the hollow pathetic sound of her voice. She groaned and stuck her bookmark back into her book before she marched to the small mirror over her sink. She studied her reflection briefly before bushing her teeth. Look at me. Wallowing. Feeling sorry for myself. I’m stronger than this. Fuck her. So what? It’s not the first time I’ve been used. So fucking what? Get over it. I’m not in jail for something I didn’t do. I’m safe. I’m in control. This place is so big I can avoid her if I want to. She finished brushing her teeth. She soaked a washcloth in cool water and wiped her face and the back of her neck. Sleep. It’ll be better in the morning. I’ve got a job I like. Books to read. Time to think. Three hots and a cot. What else do I need?

  PHONE. MY PHONE. Who the hell is calling me this late? Anxiety kicked in as she imagined some horrible reason her family was calling her in the middle of the night. She scrambled out of her bed and stubbed her toe on the way to her desk. “Fuck.” She squinted at the screen. What the hell? She thumbed the phone on. “Do you know what time it is?” She didn’t bother to stifle her angry tone.

  Millie’s voice rumbled through the phone. “Yes. Half three.”

  Drunk. She drunk dialed me. From across the yard. “Are you drunk?”

  “Aye. Guttered.”

  “And you felt compelled to wake me at three thirty in the morning to tell me?” Veronica blew out a breath.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. Yes. I’m pissed off. I don’t like being used. That was fucked up.”

  “It wasn’t about the idiotic contest. Not for me. I wasn’t in it. I swear.” Millie’s tone was earnest. “It wasn’t for the contest. Please believe me.”

  Is she lying? She’s trying to make it right. Even if she’s drunk. Veronica pursed her lips. “I believe you.”

  “Thank you. Did you mean it? About the other?” Millie’s voice was a whisper, and Veronica had to strain to hear her.

  “Mean what? I said I believe you.”

  “No. When we… After we… Did you mean what you said? You want to know me? Like really know me?” Millie’s words were slurred but clear enough for Veronica to hear the fear laced through them.

  “Yes. I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Veronica twisted the hem of her sleep shirt in her hand. Millie mumbled something Veronica couldn’t understand. She heard what sounded like a lamp breaking and cursing. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?” More mumbling and cursing came through the phone. “Millie! Hey! Answer me,” Veronica shouted into the phone while reaching for her jeans, ready to cross the yard to make sure Millie was okay.

  “Sorry. I’m here.”

  “Did you fall?”

  “No. Knocked the lamp over, dropped my phone.”

  “Millie, don’t drink anymore. Please. Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning. I meant it. I want more with you. You. Not only your body. All of you. Go to sleep, okay?”

  “’Kay. Night. You really mean it?”

  “Yes. We’ll talk in the morning. Go to sleep. Good night.”

  Veronica placed her phone back on the desk. She groaned when she thought of the early morning ride she had to prepare two horses for, in addition to the other barn work. She slipped under her covers, willing herself to sleep and failing. It’s going to be a long day. She’s interested in more. Will she be when she’s sober? She was tore up. Is she an alcoholic? Or was she freaked out? I’ve never seen her drink at supper. Maybe she doesn’t like wine. Veronica lay in bed, mulling over her conversation with Millie. She waited until she knew Myfanwy would be baking the day’s bread before she dressed and walked over to the kitchen. Coffee. I need coffee and answers. Myfanwy. Myfanwy’s her best friend.

  MYFANWY GLANCED UP from where she was bent over sliding the day’s unbaked loaves into the oven when Veronica opened the kitchen door. “You’re early. I’ve not got the coffee going, but there’s tea in the pot.”

  Veronica shifted her gaze to her hands, avoiding Myfanwy’s eyes. “Thank you. I’ll wait for the coffee.”

  Myfanwy made a small sound in acknowledgment of Veronica’s words. The kitchen was quiet, and Veronica sat in silence unsure how to proceed, not even knowing what she wanted to ask or if Myfanwy would tell her. A large cooling rack held two dozen muffins. Veronica’s stomach rumbled. She knotted her fingers together to keep them from trembling. The silence in the kitchen was uncomfortable. Say something. Ask her. She’s her best friend. Say something.

  Myfanwy kept her back to Veronica as she measured and ground the beans for the coffee press. The smell of the fresh ground beans filled the kitchen and Veronica’s mouth watered.

  The electric kettle clicked off and Myfanwy poured the water over the grounds and placed the top on the coffee press. “You want something to eat?”

  “I don’t want to be any trouble. I can wait for staff breakfast.”

  “Then why’re you here? Out of coffee in your room?” The directness of Myfanwy’s gaze as she placed a coffee cup in front of Veronica made her squirm.

  Veronica held Myfanwy’s gaze. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  Myfanwy pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “If you’re here because you think I’ve got some magical advice for you or inside information about Millie, you’re going to be disappointed.” She leaned close, invading Veronica’s space and dropped her voice low. “But know this, if you hurt her, there will not be a place in this house for you to hide.” The menace in her voice shocked Veronica, and then she remembered the fierce photo of Myfanwy she had seen in Millie’s room.

  Veronica shifted back in her chair. “Understood.”

  Myfanwy straightened up and tugged the hem of her chef’s coat. “Good.” She tapped Veronica on the shoulder. “If you wait a few minutes those chocolate orange muffins you like so well will be ready.” Her voice was cheery as if she had not threatened Veronica.

  “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  Myfanwy poured Veronica a cup of coffee and placed the French press next to the cup in front of her. She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down across the table from Veronica. “Do you want to tell me what you thought I might be able to tell you?”

  Veronica studied Myfanwy’s face. “She told me about the contest.”

  Myfanwy snorted. “Those women are idiots. I told them it wasn’t right.” She reached across th
e table and touched Veronica’s arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t take it up with the Mistresses.”

  Veronica met Myfanwy’s gaze, her sincerity giving her courage to say what she had to say next. “I thought Millie was with me last night because of the contest.” The thunderous anger twisting Myfanwy’s features made Veronica rush to finish. “But she told me it wasn’t about the contest.”

  “Are you looking for me to confirm her story?” Myfanwy’s voice was sharp.

  “No. I believe her.” Veronica relaxed as Myfanwy’s face shifted from angry to cautious.

  “But? You must have some reason you wanted to talk to me.”

  Veronica took a deep breath, fearful of angering Myfanwy again with her next question. “I was angry when I left her. I didn’t believe her at first. I left it bad with her. She called me early this morning. She was drunk. Is that a thing with her? Does she drink to excess?”

  Myfanwy glanced up at the ceiling before she brought her gaze back to Veronica’s face. “She’s had struggles in the past.”

  Veronica read what Myfanwy didn’t say in her expression. “I’m not judging her, Myfanwy.” She reached out and touched the other woman’s hand. “Thank you.”

  Myfanwy shook off Veronica’s touch and stood up. “Muffin?” She busied herself with arranging two muffins on a plate.

  Veronica traced the rim of her saucer. “Yes, please.” She took a sip of her coffee and closed her eyes to savor the taste. The door to the kitchen slammed open.

  “I’m gasping, please tell me there’s tea ready.” Millie stopped as she caught sight of Veronica. A blush crept from her collarbones and spread to her hairline. Her eyes were watery, and she appeared rough around the edges but better than Veronica expected after her drunken phone call.

  “Morning, love. Tea’s fresh, help yourself,” Myfanwy called over her shoulder.

  “Good morning.” Veronica pushed the chair next to her away from the table and nodded at it with her head, a silent invitation for Millie to sit with her.

  Millie inclined her head toward the chair and then back to Veronica’s face. A hint of a smile played about her mouth as she sat down next to Veronica. “A very good morning.” Under the table, Millie reached over, clasped Veronica’s hand, and laced her fingers through Veronica’s and squeezed once before she busied herself pouring her tea.

  Chapter Ten

  VERONICA PULLED HER backpack from the back of the car. Dark gray mountains loomed in the distance. Clouds wrapped the angled peaks a lighter gray in contrast to the black stone of the mountains.

  Millie frowned. “Not sure it’s the best day. This might burn off, but I don’t know. We should take our rain gear.”

  “As long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter if it rains.”

  Millie stepped close and pulled Veronica into her arms. “I love it when you say things like that.”

  Veronica leaned her forehead against Millie’s broad chest. “I don’t want to rush. I want to take it slow.”

  Millie pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. “As slow as you want to go. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Veronica kissed her back. Heat flared in her, and she placed a hand on Millie’s chest and stepped back. Lunch. Hiking and lunch. Don’t rush this. Get it right this time.

  The sun broke through the clouds and highlighted the rough terrain of the Quiraing. Gray rocks jutted out from the earth at sharp angles. Patchy grass, green and brown, spread out on the right side of the dull red path leading away from the car park. Millie led the way down the track.

  “This is amazing. I’ve seen photos, but they don’t do it justice.”

  “It’s like your Grand Canyon. You can see the pictures, but until you’re standing on the rim looking down it, it’s not the same.”

  Veronica squinted at Millie. “You’ve been to the Grand Canyon?” She huffed out a breath. “That was something I promised myself I’d do once I finished my dissertation. It was going to be my reward.”

  Millie cocked her head toward her. “No reason you still can’t go.”

  Veronica sighed. “Yeah. As soon as I pay my folks back. Maybe in a couple of years.”

  Millie touched her arm. “You’ll get there. I’m sure.”

  The sheer dark face of a cliff loomed ahead. Veronica shivered. “Is that the formation they call the Prison?”

  “Aye. This next part is a scramble over a stream.”

  “I’ll try to stay dry this time.” Veronica adjusted the strap on her daypack.

  Millie led on, and they crossed the stream. The path crossed between the Prison and the high cliffs and up a bank of scree. Sharp rock columns jutted out of the ground on their left. They traveled on until they came to a wire fence. They crossed a stile and followed the path bordering a sharp cliff face. A long grassy field sloped off to their right as they traveled the steep path until they topped the summit. In front and below them, sheer cliff faces and rocky prominences surrounded a large grassy plateau.

  Millie pointed at the plateau. “The Table. They say the locals used it to hide their livestock from marauders. You can’t see it from the valley.”

  Veronica gazed out at the fantastical landscape. “It’s gorgeous. How the hell did they get up there?”

  “There’s a path, but it’s rough and a scramble at the top. We could do it if you want, but not today.”

  Millie led the way over the wet and muddy path. They found a large rocky formation with a view of the landscape, spread their oilcloth over it, and set out their lunch. Millie pointed out geological features as they ate their sandwiches. Veronica’s fingers brushed the back of Millie’s hand as they both reached for the last of Robin’s cardamom shortbread. An electric current of desire rushed through Veronica, and she pulled her hand back. “Go ahead.”

  Millie picked up the shortbread, broke it in half, and offered it to Veronica. “Share it with me.”

  Veronica took the morsel from Millie’s hand. She reflected as she chewed. This was what she had missed. The dance of getting to know someone. She brushed the crumbs from her fingers before she took a sip of water.

  “What was your dissertation about? Your file didn’t list the topic.” Millie leaned back on her hands.

  “You want the long version or the short version?” Veronica knotted her fingers together.

  “Whichever version you want to share.” Millie held her gaze.

  “I always thought I would work with complex dimensions.

  Millie tilted her head at Veronica. “I’m trying to remember my maths but it’s been years since Uni. Are complex dimensions like the Riemann Sphere? The points to describe shapes, real and imaginary?”

  Veronica stifled her urge to kiss Millie. She gets it. Gets math. Could she be more perfect?

  “Yes, you get the idea, but then, after working with Doctor Kerr, Sarah, I fell in love with strange attractors. I was working with strange attractors like the Lorenz Attractor.” Veronica took a sip of her water.

  Millie smirked. “Fell in love with the theory or the woman?

  Veronica laughed. “Both. Doctor Kerr is hard not to love.”

  “That she is. So tell me, what is an attractor, and what makes them strange?”

  Veronica leaned back on her elbows. “An attractor can be a group of numbers, or just one point, or a group of points to describe a mathematical problem geometrically. In dynamic systems, systems that can change some attractors have fractal structures, and those are called strange attractors.”

  Millie raised an eyebrow. “Dynamic systems? Like weather systems? Or planetary orbits?”

  Veronica grinned, excitement bubbling in her chest as she spoke. “Yes. And the most intriguing part of it is that out of what looks to be random patterns, strange attractors have a fractal structure. A pattern that repeats but is sensitive to initial conditions. It is chaotic, and yet not chaotic because of its structure. The Lorenz Attractor has a butterfly shape.” Veronica wet her finger with her water and traced the pattern over the stone.
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br />   Millie scooted closer to Veronica. “Is that where butterfly theory comes from? That a flap of a butterfly’s wing in one place can cause a tornado somewhere else?”

  “No. That has to do with mathematical chaos and weather predictions and how infinitesimal changes can, as they are repeated over time, lead to large changes in the end result. Like if you are off with a small measurement that makes a very large difference in outcome because it compounds over time.” Veronica studied the sky. The cloud cover had burned off, and sunlight reflected off the sea. Like how a broken taillight landed me six years in prison. “How much longer back to the car?”

  “About an hour at our pace.” Millie tucked the thermos into her pack.

  Veronica reached out and touched her hand. “Can we sit a little longer? I like the view.”

  Millie stopped and sat next to Veronica. “Of course. I like the view too.” She held Veronica’s gaze long enough Veronica had to glance away before she forgot herself and said things it was too soon to say.

  “I can’t get enough of outside.” Millie leaned back on her hands.

  “Me too.” Veronica picked up a pebble and turned it in her hands. “Until I got accepted into the horse rehab program, I lived for the hour a day we got outside. I didn’t care if it was raining, snowing, sleeting, whatever, I had to get out and breathe and look at the sky and remind myself of what free was.” She tossed the pebble and wiped her hands on her pants.

  “Why didn’t you want to go back and finish your dissertation?” Millie nudged Veronica’s boot with her own.

  Veronica knotted her hands together in her lap. “It didn’t seem as important as it once was. I wanted to teach, but after my conviction, I’d never have been hired anywhere. And even if I could afford Miss Pomroy’s fees for her to find the person who left those drugs in my car, even if she got them to confess or found hard evidence, and I could prove my innocence, be exonerated, the conviction stays on your record.”

 

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