by Croft, Pippa
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s a tradition,’ he says with icy patience.
‘Tradition? Oh, in that case, of course you have to go. Don’t let me get in the way of tradition.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, grow up.’
His armour slips and I stare at him open-mouthed. I walk off the bridge, trying to stay calm, but he catches me in a few strides and grabs my arm.
‘Let’s discuss this like adults.’ He sounds so stiff I feel as if a chasm has opened between us.
‘Are you embarrassed by me and that’s why you don’t want me to come?’
‘Embarrassed? Is that honestly what you think?’
‘What else should I think when you refuse to ask me to what’s clearly the biggest occasion in the social calendar.’
He snorts in derision.
‘It is important to you, though, isn’t it? Rupert might be a top bullshitter but he did say that “everyone” was going.’
‘Not everyone. He’s talking out of his arse as usual – and winding you up – and as for me being embarrassed by you, that’s the very last reason I haven’t asked you.’
‘I don’t buy that.’
We face up to each other, both daring the other to back down. Alexander glares at me, then sighs. ‘I’m embarrassed by my family, that’s why, and some of my friends. I wasn’t lying when I told you you’d hate them. As for my father … he’s an awkward bastard at the best of times and I can’t guarantee he’ll be any different because I’ve got company. In fact, he could be worse.’
The words tumble out as if he’s physically hurt by saying them.
‘But won’t Emma be there?’
‘She may be – it depends on her end-of-term plans, but really it will be almost exclusively hunting people – and Rupert of course.’
I feel as if he has mentioned Rupert as an added dissuasion, but I refuse to take the bait. ‘I can understand that you can’t get away from your family, but if you loathe these people so much, why do you invite them to your home?’
‘I don’t loathe all of them – most of them, I admit – but I didn’t invite them, either. My father decides the guest list now, and my mother did it when she was alive. They’re all hunt people we’ve known for years, centuries in a couple of cases, and,’ he adds contemptuously, ‘nothing changes at Falconbury. My father sees to that. The Falconbury meet and the ball afterwards are traditions that have been going on for generations.’
‘There’s a ball too?’
He glances away from me guiltily. ‘Yes, it’s on the Saturday evening after the meet but …’
‘But what?’
‘Well, if you really want to come, then I’m happy for you to be there, but …’ He pulls me into his arms and I stand, stiffly, as he looks at me seriously. ‘You can come on one condition, that you believe me when I say that I’m not ashamed of you in any way. I was only trying to protect you by keeping you away from my bloody family and friends for as long as I could.’
There is such fierce passion in his voice that I have to believe him, even though I’m still confused and reeling from his admission that he wasn’t going to invite me. ‘I wish you’d told me this sooner instead of me having to hear it from Rupert. You don’t have to protect me from people – whether they’re idiots in pubs or your own family.’
‘You haven’t met my relatives.’
‘You’re forgetting I’m a politician’s daughter. I think I can handle a few awkward family members and I certainly don’t need to be wrapped in cotton wool. I had such a battle to persuade my parents that I wanted to study over here, but I stood my ground, so I can deal with your father and anything these so-called friends of yours throw my way. You know, I bet they’re nowhere near as terrible as you think they are.’
I sound more confident than I feel and, far from reassuring me, Alexander simply murmurs, ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’
‘My God, is this the new distribution centre for Net-a-Porter?’
Shaking her head, Immy glances up at the clothes piled on my bed, hanging from the doors and hooked over the picture rail. God knows, I’ve probably spent more time packing for this weekend than I did for the whole eight-week term. I tried to ask Alexander what I should take, but couldn’t get more than a muttered, ‘Whatever you wear I’m sure you’ll look beautiful,’ out of him. In truth, I’ve hardly seen him since Sunday because we both had so much work to do to meet deadlines for our end-of-term essay projects. When I have seen him, he’s been on edge and snappy.
In the end I asked Immy round, though I felt guilty because she hadn’t been invited.
‘I don’t know what to take for the weekend. I wish you were coming to Falconbury.’
She snorts. ‘Me? No way.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I don’t hunt and I don’t want to. I love riding and I’ve been to meets a couple of times, but all that outdated silly ritual does nothing for me.’
‘But they don’t hunt foxes now, do they? They only follow trails.’
Immy raises her eyebrows in response.
‘I wouldn’t dream of going along if they did,’ I declare. ‘I hate cruelty to animals.’
‘Don’t let them hear you say that. However, that’s not really the point of a Falconbury meet these days. Some of them are there for the thrill of the sport, like Alexander, but the rest love the socializing, the drinking and, most of all, the being seen to be invited into the Hunt social circle. If you think you’ve seen social climbing, you’ve seen nothing until you experience a Falconbury hanger-on. Some of them would trample on their grannies to get an invite.’
‘You haven’t been to a White House fundraiser. It’s white tie and crampons.’
‘I’d be happy to hone my climbing skills there.’
Even though I laugh, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the weekend was making me feel increasingly nervous. Alexander’s touchiness isn’t helping one bit. He keeps saying that he’s glad I’m coming now, but I can tell how tense he is about it. Can his family and friends really be that unpleasant?
‘So, what do you think I should take?’
‘Mmm.’ She circles the room, chewing her lip. ‘Are you actually going to ride out with the hounds on Saturday morning?’
‘No, but I might go for a ride with Alexander at some point. I bought a new tweed hacking jacket, jodhpurs and boots for that.’
She sighs with relief. ‘Thank fuck for that. You would not believe the etiquette involved in hunting turn-out – almost as bad as the rituals here – and the Falconbury lot are sticklers for it. Wear the wrong colour coat or forget to give the Master his due deference and you can kiss goodbye to being asked back. I hate the whole ridiculous charade personally, but it’s an unbreakable Hunt fixture and I know Rupert adores the whole thing. Don’t let this weekend drive a wedge between you and Alexander.’ She runs a finger reverently over my Donna Karan cocktail dress.
‘So, what do you think? I need something for drinks and dinner with the Hunts on Thursday evening.’
‘Oh, lucky you.’
‘I thought maybe I’d wear this?’ I hold up the sleeveless black Twiggy studded silk-crepe dress I splashed out on in Harvey Nicks.
‘That’s perfect. Chic and edgy. However …’
‘Yes?’ I ask anxiously.
‘Falconbury is probably glacial. These places always are and General Hunt probably considers it a blood sport to keep his guests shivering. Have you got anything to put over the top of it?’
‘I bought a silver shrug from home.’
‘Perfect. What about the ball? Will you wear the dress you bought for Rashleigh Hall?’
‘I thought I’d better try something different so I got my mother to send over a couple of things.’ I show her the Alexander McQueen purple chiffon gown and a Calvin Klein dress similar to one I saw Kristen Stewart wearing to the Met Gala.
She strokes the teal velvet. ‘My precious …’ she purrs, and I burst out laughing. ‘I b
ought it while I was dating Todd, but I haven’t worn it yet. I hope that’s not an omen.’
‘They’re both stunning and either would knock everyone dead and –’ she grins wickedly ‘– that’s probably what you’ll want to do by the end of the weekend.’
‘Lauren!’
It’s Thursday morning and Rafe’s voice echoes under the vaulted roof of the Lodge gate. My heart sinks but I have no choice but to stop.
‘Oh, hello, Professor Rafe.’
‘I’m so glad I caught you. How are you?’
I manage a smile. ‘OK.’
He frowns. ‘You don’t look it. You’re very pale, if you don’t mind me saying. Not going down with fresher’s flu, I hope?’
‘No, nothing like that. I was going out for some, um … breakfast.’
Rafe raises his eyebrows and I realize just made a big mistake. The truth is I’ve had very little sleep, partly because Alexander and I spent half the night having sex before he left at dawn to get some work done. I was hoping to do the same before I head off for Falconbury this afternoon.
‘A late one, eh? Well, it’s never a good idea to skip breakfast.’
‘No, of course not.’ I’m itching to get away.
‘Actually, I’ve been meaning to catch you before our tutorial tomorrow morning. How’s the essay going? I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts on Klimt’s involvement with the Wiener Secession.’
Oh fuck. I’d forgotten about the tute. Tomorrow I’ll be at Falconbury. I daren’t tell him.
‘Oh, yes. I mean, of course. The essay’s going pretty well.’
‘Good. I shouldn’t say this, but I dread some tutes; however, you’re different. You always have such, ah, original ideas that I relish our times together. You’re also so reliable and punctual, unlike some people I could mention. I really want to discuss the vacation reading list and our plans for next term before you go back to the States.’
My head swims a little. I’m going to have to tell him I can’t make it tomorrow after all, but what excuse can I give? I feel uneasy at missing a tute, even for Alexander.
‘You do look rather pale. Why don’t we go and get a bite to eat? Blackwell’s coffee shop is only two minutes away. Perhaps I could treat you to a pain au chocolat and cappuccino in there. Neutral territory and all that.’
He gives a wry smile that makes me feel ever so slightly guilty for having been so blunt about him touching me in tutorials. Though God knows why because he did make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, everything he does, even when he seems to be genuinely nice, like now, puts me on edge.
‘Um … well.’ My stomach rumbles and he laughs softly.
‘You look as if you’re about to pass out from starvation.’
Going for a coffee with him now is the last thing I want, but I can hardly refuse when I plan to bail out of his tutorial so I nod politely. ‘Not quite, but maybe I could use a cup of tea.’
A short time later, I’m sipping a cup of Earl Grey as Rafe returns from the counter with two pains au chocolat and an espresso for himself. He pushes the pastry towards me and empties a sachet of sugar into his coffee. I don’t want to refuse the pastry and, anyway, I won’t have time for lunch now; I’ll have to work right up until Alexander calls for me.
‘I must say I’m impressed that you still plan on making the tute when there are so many other temptations in Oxford, as I’m sure you’ve discovered.’
The pastry sticks in my throat.
‘The Falconbury Hunt is a huge social occasion, isn’t it? I hear Alexander is travelling down tonight.’
I swallow. ‘I’m – um – not sure I understand you.’
‘Really? But you must have been invited. Alexander wouldn’t leave you off the list, now would he? In fact, I’m very surprised you still plan to come to my tutorial. Maybe I’ve got things completely wrong, but I can’t help having noticed that you’ve got into his group. You are seeing him, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, but … how do you know about the hunt?’
‘I’ve been around Oxford for years; the hunt and ball are legendary among people who care about such things, not that mere mortals like me get invited, of course. Not that I’d go if I was; the Hunts – and hunting people in general – are not people I’d choose to socialize with, and obviously I’m bitterly opposed to blood sports.’
‘So am I. I despise cruelty to animals, but it’s a drag hunt now.
‘So he has asked you.’
‘Yes, he has.’
He holds up his hands. ‘I apologize. You want to go, understandably. It’s none of my business, of course, and you have every right to ignore me, but if the relationship affects your studies then I wouldn’t be doing my job as your tutor not to bring it up.’
It really isn’t any of his business and I could and probably should tell him that, but he is my tutor and I am supposed to be here to study as well as enjoy myself.
‘It isn’t affecting my studies. I’ve tried not to let it.’
He gives a little sigh. ‘I know. Your coursework has been exemplary and … as I said at the start of term, you’re an outstanding prospect, Lauren. I really think you could go on to do a DPhil here if you wanted to and if you applied yourself. I would hate to see you throw all that potential away by getting distracted.’
‘I’ve no intention of getting distracted by anyone.’
‘I must say I’m very relieved to hear it. Also it’s very creditable that you plan on staying here for the tute, and not sending me some excuse afterwards about being ill.’
I tear off another piece of pain and shove it in my mouth. Rafe may be a creep but he’s also very clever. He knows exactly what he’s doing here.
‘I’m happy I’m wrong and you decided your end-of-term work was more important.’
My mother told me never to speak with my mouth full so I nod, panicking inside. Now I’ll have to make some excuse tomorrow – or come clean now.
He checks his wrist and grimaces. ‘I really should be leaving. I’m having lunch at a friend’s in Summertown.’
‘Of course. You don’t want to keep him waiting.’
‘Her,’ he says with a smile. He gets to his feet and to my horror I find my hand on his arm. ‘Professor Rafe, wait.’
He glances down at my fingers, as if he’s astonished I actually touched him. Heat rising to my face, I pull them away, but it’s too late. He smiles and sits down again.
‘I expect my friend won’t mind if I’m a little late, not if you’ve something important to ask me. You do have something to ask, don’t you, Lauren?’
‘I –’ Oh God, what am I doing? ‘After what you’ve said about my studies and me being reliable, I shouldn’t ask this, but I would very much like to go to Falconbury this evening. Alexander has asked me to dinner with his family and I had agreed. I’d hoped to find a time to ask you if we can reschedule the tute and kept putting it off. Now I know it’s too late unless you can see me later today?’ I ask hopefully.
‘Unfortunately not, but in view of the fact you’ve been honest with me I’ve got half an hour now. We could have a quick chat about next term’s work load and reading list and you could email your essay to me.’
‘That would be great,’ I sigh in relief.
Half an hour later, I’m trying to pay attention to his thoughts on the Hilary schedule, relieved that I got off so lightly. When we’ve finished, he checks his watch again. ‘Well, I could chat to you all morning, but I really have to go now. I hope you have a good time at the hunt and ball, but, please, be careful.’ He pats my hand. ‘I’d hate to see you get hurt.’
‘Why would I get hurt?’
He shakes his head. ‘Nothing. None of my business.’
‘Please, Professor Rafe, say what you need to.’
I think I raised my voice a little because a couple of people glance up from their books and tablets, but instantly return to their own private worlds.
‘My dear, I’m sure I don’t know anything about Alexa
nder beyond what you’ve worked out for yourself, but I would hate to see you ruin your studies over him – or worse, get hurt very badly.’
‘I can look after myself,’ I say, yet my stomach is fluttering. ‘But, now you’ve started, go on.’
He gives a deep sigh. ‘I hate pigeon-holing people – it goes against everything I believe about the complexity of human nature – but I know Alexander.’
Hastily, I swallow down my pastry. ‘Sorry, but you know Alexander?’
‘Of course I know him. He did his undergraduate degree at St Merryn’s College. I was his pastoral tutor there before I joined Wyckham. You are aware of his background and circumstances, of course?’
‘Of course I am, and I’m not influenced by it in any way.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t be. You’re not one of these naive young women who would be seduced into thinking a man like Alexander would see them as a long-term commitment. He may act like a cavalier maverick, but when it comes to family he’ll marry within his circle, as his kind always do.’
I’m so pissed by the sexism of this statement, I can hardly reply. ‘I can assure you I’ve no intention of marrying him. We’ve not long started dating.’
‘Then I won’t have to worry about you any more.’ Rafe gathers up his laptop bag. ‘Now, my dear Lauren, I really must go. I’ll email you with some more information about next term’s work and, if you need me, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. My only concern is your welfare and happiness – and, of course, helping you to achieve that wonderful potential. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.’ He pats my arm. ‘And have a wonderful Christmas.’
Chapter Seventeen
‘This bloody weather. If it rains again tomorrow, the hunt will have to be called off.’
Alexander switches the wipers on to max and they thrash across the screen. It’s been raining since we left Oxford, and forty miles and over ninety minutes later water is still pouring down the windscreen as we turn off the main road on to a lane that seems barely wide enough for the Range Rover.
The Thursday-afternoon traffic combined with the rain has conspired to make it a tedious journey largely conducted at a snail’s pace. None of the roads seem big enough to cope with the volume of traffic and Alexander has spent most of the journey drumming his fingers on the wheel, concentrating on the road or staring moodily into space. Now we’re on the way to what I assume to be the Falconbury estate, it’s hard not to clutch the grab handle as the hedgerows whizz past at dizzying speed.