Alistair looked about the same as he did: as if he had not slept in days and that the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders. “Did you have your meeting with the headmaster yet?” Alistair inquired.
“Yes,” he sighed, “I’ve just come from there. Now I’m supposed to take a chemistry exam. Could you please explain to me how the hell I’m going to do that, Alistair? The headmaster doesn’t even know Colin is dead, does he?”
Alistair grabbed Sebastian by his jacket lapel and pulled him back into a deserted stone archway. “Irons, pull yourself together. You need to act as if nothing has happened. Sit for the exams and pass them. I told you, none of this will get out.”
“What if one of the girls talks to the bloody press?”
“It’s been taken care of,” Alistair repeated in a slow, intense voice.
“But how can you act as if nothing has happened?” Sebastian raged back, pushing Alistair brusquely into the wall.
“Because I have to, and it would behoove you to learn that lesson, too,” he glared at Sebastian, the warning sounding like a threat. “Now keep a stiff upper lip and go about your day as planned.” Alistair brushed the dirt off his jacket and heaved a heavy sigh, unable to stay angry at his best friend. “Come on, we’ll be late for chemistry.”
They walked together in silence, never to utter the name Colin Harris again. They were the last to arrive in the exam hall and ended up having to sit in the front row of the room. It was a gray, gloomy day, perfectly matching Sebastian’s mood. Rain was approaching. The proctor stood at the front of the room and cleared his throat, making a deep, disgusting sound. It snapped Sebastian back to the present.
“You will have two hours to complete your exam. You may open your booklets and begin now,” the teacher announced, noting the time on the large wall clock.
The sound of rustling paper echoed through the large hall. Students were hunched over their test papers, feverishly writing their answers in a race against the clock. Sebastian stared at his paper. It might as well have been written in a foreign language. He couldn’t focus. He was feeling lightheaded, sick to his stomach, and couldn’t breathe. The image of Colin collapsed on the floor and their futile attempts to save him burned in his brain. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. The pencil he was holding snapped between his fingers. Sebastian stood up and quickly walked out of the room without asking permission. The teacher called after him, but he closed the door and made a sprint down the corridor leading to the quad. The cool, misty air smacked his face as he flung open the glass door. He turned, fell to his knees, and vomited in the bushes. His mind was racing. Sebastian didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he needed to get away from this place.
Sebastian made his way back to his flat just as a loud clap of thunder shook the heavens and produced a heavy deluge of cold rain. He slammed the heavy front door closed behind him. Sebastian peeled off his black suit jacket and frantically tore at the buttons of his purple satin vest, throwing them both on the floor. Tugging at his matching purple tie, he loosened the Windsor knot so it hung loosely and finally he could breathe a little easier.
He poured a tumbler of scotch and downed it in one gulp, shaking off the sharp bite it left as it slid down his throat. Closing his eyes, he focused on his breathing in an attempt to calm his nerves. Inhale, exhale, he told himself. Unsure if it was the alcohol or the breathing, his mind suddenly became very clear and focused. He remembered an evening, a few months back, when Alistair rang him begging Sebastian to take Penny to dinner.
“I have this function I need to attend tonight and I promised Penny I’d take her to The Ivy for dinner. Can you take her for me?”
“You realize you’re asking me to take your girl on a date? Why don’t you just take her another time?” Sebastian questioned.
“I’ve already been photographed with her too many times. The only saving grace is that you are always with us. They don’t know who she’s with, me or you. And besides, I hate to disappoint her. She likes you, Sebastian. Please?”
“Fine,” Sebastian surrendered. “You’re lucky I enjoy Penny’s company or otherwise you would owe me hugely.”
“Brilliant! I’ve made reservations for eight. Holmes will you pick up,” he instructed as he rung off.
Holmes chauffeured Sebastian and Penny to the restaurant.
“Are you ready for this?” Sebastian inquired.
She nodded. Sebastian opened the car door and walked around to assist Penny, holding out his hand. Lights flashed from the gathered paparazzi as the couple was snapped on the sidewalk before they walked into The Ivy.
They were seated promptly at a prominent table and handed embossed leather menus. The sommelier arrived and a bottle of French wine was ordered. Turning her attention back to Sebastian, Penny said, “They got a good photo. Alistair should be pleased.” She began to peruse the main courses. “That should take the heat off. I hope you don’t mind being my faux boyfriend?” she asked with grave concern, her voice taking on a serious tone.
It was apparent to him that Alistair and Penny were falling for each other. How sad that they had to play these games to keep their relationship a secret. “You shouldn’t have to hide, Pen. But I’m very happy to be your faux boyfriend,” he whispered, leaning closer to her.
“It’s quite all right. I knew what I was getting myself into. It’s hard enough to maintain a relationship, let alone try to grow one under the scrutiny of the press and the royal family. I’m perfectly happy keeping it quiet and doing whatever it is to avoid suspicions. I’m extremely grateful Alistair asked you to take me out, and not Colin or Oliver,” she admitted.
Sebastian appreciated the change of pace. He didn’t have to be the group leader and entertain when he was alone with Penny. He didn’t have to drink to excess or take drugs. With Penny, he could just be himself. How nice it would be if he could find someone like her with whom he could fall in love.
They left The Ivy around ten o’clock and made their way back to Penny’s flat. Sebastian opened the car door and walked her to the front door. He stared at her face for a long moment.
“What is it?” she asked, fearing something was stuck in her teeth.
“I’m very lucky to have you as a friend,” he complimented.
“I’ve had a fantastic evening. Thank you for being my escort.”
“It was my pleasure. Have a goodnight, Pen.” He leaned in and kissed her softly on one cheek and then the other. He turned to leave and headed down the short stone stairs. He was halfway to the car when she called out to him. “Sebastian, I would love it if you could join me at the Tate next week for the Pre-Raphaelite exhibit.”
He stopped mid-stride and turned to face her with a huge grin on his lips. “I would like that very much. Wednesday?”
“Perfect. It’s a date. I’ll ring you later.” She turned the key in the door knob, opened the red door, and disappeared inside the old stone building.
Sebastian grabbed his car keys. Soon he was on the M3, speeding toward London in the torrential rain. The teeming water made it difficult to see through the windscreen as the wipers frantically swished back and forth, unable to keep up with the rain. The wheels slipped as he took a sharp turn, Sebastian instinctively tightening his grip on the leather-wrapped steering wheel.
It wasn’t long before he found himself in Kensington, parking along South Hampton Mews. He walked to number 52 and hesitated on the doorstep. Finally, he reached out and rang the doorbell. The red door opened to reveal Penelope. The storm had plastered his brown hair flat onto his face. His white shirt clung to his bare chest, accentuating his well defined abs. The leather shoes on his feet were surely ruined. Sebastian held out a bottle of vodka as if it were a peace offering.
“Sebastian, get in here!” she exclaimed, pulling him by the arm. “What in heaven’s name are you doing?”
He couldn’t answer. He stood there in the foyer dripping water on the marble floor, looking dejected and painfully
alone. Penny took the bottle and placed it on the foyer table. She gently took his hand. “Come on, I’ll get you some dry clothes.”
They walked the length of the hallway and into her bedroom, and then she led him straight through to the bathroom. Penny took a few Egyptian cotton towels from the linen closet and handed them to Sebastian. “Get out of those wet clothes. Put them on the towel warmer to dry them out.”
Penny rummaged through her dresser drawer until she came across a white T-shirt and navy plaid boxers. She knocked on the bathroom door. It slowly opened to reveal Sebastian with a white towel wrapped around his waist. She handed him the boxers and shirt. “These are Alistair’s.”
He joined her a few minutes later, clad in clean, dry clothes. His hair was spiked in all different directions from his attempt to towel-dry it. Penny gave him a cup of tea with a shot of whiskey. “Drink this. You’ll warm up.”
Sebastian attempted to smile. It dawned on him that Penny and Alistair handled stressful situations in the same manner: there was always a calm, in-control method to it. He thought maybe that was one reason they seemed so well suited for each other.
They sat together on a floral Laura Ashley love seat. Sebastian slowly sipped the tea, breathing in the warmth and aroma, until the cup was empty. He placed the cup and saucer on the small coffee table at their feet.
“Please tell me what’s happening?” she pleaded, a look of concern crossing her face. “You should be with Alistair taking exams.”
“That’s a little difficult to do when you’re vomiting in the bushes,” he told her.
She quickly touched his forehead with the palm of her hand to see if he had a fever. “You don’t feel warm,” she observed.
“Why do you do that?” he questioned.
“Do what?”
“Act as if everything is perfectly normal in the face of tragedy. How do you do it?” he repeated.
“Oh, Sebastian,” she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder, “it’s not that easy. I can’t get that image of Colin collapsing on the floor out of my mind. You tried to save him, it just didn’t work.”
“Alistair gave me the ‘stiff upper lip’ speech this morning,” he informed her.
“Don’t be angry with him. It’s how he’s wired. It’s royal protocol. Show no emotion. Keep calm and carry on. Alistair doesn’t know any other way,” Penny explained.
Sebastian focused on the rose-colored wallpaper. His head touched the top of Penny’s head. Neither one spoke for at least half an hour. Sebastian was slowly calming down. It was comforting to be with Penny. He knew he made the right choice to come here today. She never judged him.
Penny took his hand. “Feeling better?” she asked, as if reading his mind.
“A little,” he admitted. “You seem to be the only one who will allow me to grieve.”
“We’re all grieving, just in different ways.”
Sebastian closed his eyes and winced at those words. Penny was trying to be a good friend, yet he found himself whisper, “I can’t stop thinking it’s my fault. If I hadn’t invited everyone to the castle, maybe he’d still be alive.”
Penny sat straight up and turned to face him with alarm. “Do not say that. There was absolutely nothing you could have done to save him. Colin had a major drug problem.”
“We certainly didn’t help him.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, “but you can’t save someone with an addiction unless they want to be saved. Sebastian, you did not kill Colin Harris.” Penny stared into his eyes with great intensity as she spoke those words.
“Pen—” Sebastian was unable to finish his sentence because she cut him off with an eager kiss on the mouth. They had kissed several times before, but this time was different.
He quickly pulled away, caught off guard by her sudden move. Then the most amazing thing happened; his mind went completely blank. There was no pain, no anxiety—just calm. He reached out and touched her face and kissed her back.
The kissing became more urgent and passionate. Penny straddled his lap, pushing him back against the sofa. They were pulling at each other’s undergarments, channeling all their pent-up energy and grief into sex. All Sebastian could think of was comfort. It was comforting to be here with his friend. It was comforting to have sex with Penny. He knew in his mind it was wrong, but he didn’t care.
They collapsed in each other’s arms, sweaty and breathing heavily. Sebastian’s T-shirt was damp with perspiration. Penny’s pale gray linen dress was a mess of wrinkles. “Pen—” he uttered before she placed her soft finger tips against his lips to quiet him.
“People deal with grief in different ways,” she reiterated.
“I’m not sorry this happened,” he confessed.
She gave a melancholy smile. “Nor am I.”
“We can’t tell Alistair.”
“No,” she agreed. “He wouldn’t understand.” Penny stood up and attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt. “Draw us a bath. I’ll get us some drinks.” She turned to leave the room and Sebastian simply watched her walk away.
Sebastian lifted himself from the sofa and padded back to the bathroom. He stripped off Alistair’s shirt and boxers as the hot water poured from the faucet into the large Victorian claw-foot tub. He examined the bottles of oils and bubble bath Penny had neatly arranged on the teakwood tray that sat on the tub’s edge. He unscrewed the black lid to the lavender-scented bottle. It was the same aroma he often associated with Penny, floral and calming. He tipped the bottle under the running water and let the two mix together as a myriad of tiny bubbles began to appear. The overhead incandescent bulb gave off a harsh light, so he switched it off and lit the many candles that were placed around the bathroom. His eyes scanned the room. When he determined that he had made it as inviting as possible, Sebastian stepped into the tub, leaning his back against one of the broad curved ends. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind of everything. His only focus was the heat of the water and the smell of the lavender.
Penny walked into the room carrying a tray filled with an assortment of juices; glasses filled with ice, and Sebastian’s bottle of vodka. She placed the tray on the long, flat window ledge. Penny poured a healthy measure of vodka over ice and added a splash of orange juice, stirred briefly with her finger, and handed it to Sebastian. She made herself a cranberry-and-vodka. She stripped off her dress and placed it on the hook on the back of the door as Sebastian watched. Penny lit a cigarette and then lit another off the glowing end. She handed Sebastian both and slipped into the tub with him, retrieved her cigarette, and leaned against the opposite end.
They smoked and drank their vodka in silence. Sebastian extinguished the butt of his Dunhill in the glass ashtray on the bath’s ledge, letting the last puff of smoke trail above him. “You know how they say there are moments in your life that you’ll never forget?” he finally spoke aloud.
“Hmm,” she acknowledged wordlessly.
“This is one of those moments for me. Penny, you have no idea how grateful I am to you.”
She reached over and touched his left hand, which was gripping the cool porcelain side of the tub. “You helped me, too. Just because I seem cool, calm, and collected doesn’t mean I really am. We all hide behind facades, don’t we?”
“I’m getting sent down from Eton,” he said, unconsciously changing the subject.
“Yes, well, considering you just walked out on your final, that is sort of a foregone conclusion.”
“I need to get out of England.”
“Where shall we go?” she asked nonchalantly.
His mood brightened. “You’ll come with me?”
“Absolutely. How about Paris?” she suggested.
Sebastian frowned. “No, it’s awful this time of year. Too many people. Too hot.”
“Agreed.” She thought for a moment then offered, “How about Alicante? We have a villa there. We could hide away from the world. My mother and father are in Cape Town. No one will bother us.”
“Spain? That sounds perfect. When can we leave?”
Penny chuckled. “You sound like a fugitive.”
“When the headmaster rings my mother to let her know I’ve been chucked out of Eton and she finds out about Colin…” He trailed off in thought. “Let’s just say I’m better off running.”
The bath water had become cold. Sebastian stood first and wrapped a towel around his waist after drying his chest and shoulders. He opened another for Penny to step into as she placed her feet back on the floor.
He allowed her some privacy to dress and wandered over to her stereo cabinet to look at her record collection. He flipped through the LPs until he came across Aztec Camera’s Stray. He slipped the vinyl out of the shinny cover, put the record over the spindle of the turntable, gently lifted the needle, and placed it on track one. The sounds of a melancholy piano filled the room and Roddy Frame began to sing.
Penny walked up behind him and gently touched his shoulder. Sebastian turned around to face her, taking her in his arms. They danced.
“Did you have to pick the saddest album?” she asked.
“It suits my mood,” he responded, slowly twirling her under his arm and then pulling her even closer into his embrace. The ivory silk robe she wore felt nice against his skin.
The song ended, yet they remained in each other’s arms, eyes closed. The incessant ring of the telephone brought them back to reality. Penny walked over and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Penelope, have you spoken to Sebastian? I can’t find him anywhere,” Alistair asked her in an almost frantic tone.
“Yes, I’ve spoken to him, Alistair. What’s going on?” she asked while gazing at Sebastian, who was vehemently shaking his head, imploring her with his eyes to not let on that he was standing right next to her in nothing but a bath towel.
“He ran out of his chemistry exam without a word. I’ve looked all over campus for him. I even went to his flat and found Lady Irons there.”
Life's What You Make It: Love's Great Adventure Book 1 Page 3