I’ve been careless. “I’m sorry, Serafina, I do understand,” I say. “It’s just that you seemed to really like him. But you did the right thing.” I nod firmly. What did she say before? “It was like oil and water. There was no future in it.”
“Serafina? Verity?” There’s a flurry of moving branches as Jeremiah leaps down into the clearing. “Are you coming?”
Good work, K, I tell myself. It’s almost impossible to offend Serafina, but you’ve managed to do it.
WHEN WE GET back, I see that Mr. East has dug a new flower bed outside the lodge. His spade and trowel are lying on the dark soil but he’s not there. I’ve never just left Raymond alone before, so I keep the leash on and turn to Serafina. “I need to find Mr. East. I’ll see you later.”
The others go into the foyer and Raymond and I set off around the front of the building. As we walk under Brer Magnus’s open window, I hear Greg’s voice. I stop, and that’s when I hear him say, “No, sir, I don’t want to have anything more to do with Verity Nekton.”
The words cut into me. I run noiselessly on the grass, around the corner of the building and down the gentle slope toward the Sisters’ house. I don’t stop until I reach the rhododendron grove, and then I kneel down beside Raymond and bury my face in his warm fur. He gives my nose a quick lick.
“Raymond,” I murmur. “I don’t know what I did to make him hate me.”
But then I think: it’s not what I did; it’s what I am. Maybe, somehow, Greg has found out that I’m not really Brotherhood. Maybe he’s told Brer Magnus.
When I get back to the lodge Mr. East is kneeling by the freshly turned soil, planting seedlings. He stands up, wiping a sprinkling of earth away from his face, and gestures at the little green plants. “Sunflowers.”
I’m not going to hide away anymore, I decide, as I make my way to the Sisters’ house. I wanted to help Oskar for good reasons, and in spite of everything I know now about the goodness of the Brotherhood too, those reasons are still true. All I have to do is give him the list, finish my exams, and see out the year.
It isn’t me who’s stonewalling Greg without even saying why. It isn’t me telling Brer Magnus I want nothing more to do with him. But then I think: which one of us has the false name—false everything really—and is here as an impostor? And if Greg does know, or even suspects, that’s enough reason to freeze me out.
It’s not fully dark yet, and the air is scented with crumpled petals, swirling in the breeze like feathers in a pillow fight. Not everything was false, I console myself. I stand under the porch and fish in my bag for my key. Then I hear a scrape of gravel.
Greg is under the arch that leads to the library. “Verity,” he says, very quietly.
I step back onto the path.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Me too,” I say.
And then he goes, dissolving into the shadows of the arch. And now it feels much more final than it did before, because our “sorry” isn’t really for what has happened between us. It’s for things that are too big, things that have gone on for too long, things we can’t change.
CHAPTER 24
THE VISITORS’ BOOK turns up before the next weekend meeting and although Brer Magnus must know it was taken from his office, there’s been no further mention of it. I tape the list of names to the back of my bedside table so that I don’t have to keep hiding it and can get it quickly if Ril turns up. But I don’t hear from her.
Greg and I are polite to each other but that’s all. If he does know who I really am, he’s giving nothing away. The only time I can forget is when I go swimming in the pond near the rhododendrons. The rest of the time I am wound up in the tense fear of discovery. The days pass in eating, sleeping, and studying.
Then, on the day before term ends, Brer Magnus gives me a note from Ril.
Dear Verity,
I’ll pick you up tomorrow after the garden party. Please have everything ready.
Ril
The summer vacation begins with a bang here. First there’s a dance and then a garden party for families too. I know what Ril means by “everything”—the list of names. The cocoon of studying and living here bursts open and all the worries come crawling out again.
It’s almost over, this life, and I still don’t know whether I’ll be coming back after the summer. I still don’t know if there’s a sleeper cell at the school either—the only reason I came here in the first place. It’s the last dance tonight. I lay the deck-chair dress on my bed.
“Verity, you can have this, if you want.” Celestina holds up an emerald-green silk dress. It’s the one she was wearing the first time I met her. “Try it on.”
When I pull it over my head I can see that she’s taken up the hem for me. In the mirror, wearing this, my eyes look almost as green as Celestina’s. She’s watching to see if I like it. If I’m not careful my eyes will fill with tears. They do anyway and I smile at Celestina in the glass.
Serafina looks up. “Oh, Verity,” she says. “You look lovely!”
Celestina nods. “Not bad.” She picks up her brushes. “I’ll do your hair if you like.”
“OK,” I say. I reckon I’ll have to let her, as she’s been so nice about the dress. Though in a way, I wouldn’t have minded wearing my old friend, the deck-chair. For old times’ sake.
Celestina sweeps a comb through my hair, which now hangs past my shoulder blades. It’s a serious business to her, so we don’t talk. And that’s nice. I’d like to tell her I’ll miss her, but I don’t know how. Somehow I think she knows anyway. Her fingers are quick and light in my hair. I haven’t been to a hairdresser for years. No one else has touched my hair since I was a little girl. Then Celestina gets out her makeup bag and does my face as well, humming softly as she brushes and smudges.
Finally she’s finished. “Do you want to have a look?” She swivels me around to face the mirror, and just for a moment it’s as though I’m looking at Greg’s drawing of me. Celestina smiles behind me in the mirror.
THE GLASS DOORS of the canteen are open and the party has spilled out to the lawn. It’s nearly dark already and the light from the room pools on to the grass outside. Brotherhood parties start late and go on all night: every now and then some random detail like this from Oskar’s Manual pops into my head. They must think we citizens are very boring, with our formal civic ceremonies instead.
Inside, dancers swirl around the room, and a band plays wild fiddle music, with flutes and no singers. I don’t know these dances, but everyone else knows when to turn and when to stand still. I can see Emanuel dancing, and Greg walking toward us. He’s wearing a white shirt. He takes Celestina’s hand. They look very comfortable with each other and I wonder again if they’re together. Her hair swings around her shoulders as she laughs up at Greg. He whirls her around, and his face breaks into a smile.
I stand in the open doorway. The breeze swishes the silk dress against my legs, so that although my face feels hot, the rest of me is cool. I can see all my friends. I can call them that, on this last night. Celestina is still dancing with Greg. They turn between the two lines of dancers. Celestina laughs, her long black hair spinning out behind her. Greg has had a haircut. I know the shape of his head from drawing him so many times, and I know the feel of it from holding it to wipe the blood from his face. I feel tears welling in my eyes. I never used to cry before I came here. I must stop this.
Serafina sees me and stops clapping to wave. Opposite her, Emanuel dances, his wild curls springing in time to the music.
I turn away and look outside. Colored lanterns hang from all the trees. The sky’s blue dark rather than black dark, and there’s a half moon hanging above the rhododendron grove. It’s so beautiful that I can’t stand it. I didn’t think this through on the back of Oskar’s motorbike all those weeks ago. I’m just about to slip across the lawn into the darkness when someone grabs my elbow from behind.
“Come on, Verity! You have to dance this one!” It’s Serafina. She pulls me int
o the hall, into a circle with Emanuel, Celestina, Jeremiah—and Greg. I’m in between him and Jeremiah. Everyone has their arms around each other’s shoulders, but the girls’ arms are on top. I have to stretch up to reach Greg’s shoulder, my hand slipping on his cotton shirt. His face is flushed with dancing and his hair is sticking to his forehead in wisps.
He looks down and sees me gazing at him. “What?” he says, laughing. It’s as if we’ve put everything to one side for just this dance.
“Hold on tight!” calls Serafina. “Don’t let go!”
My right hand is around Greg’s neck, and my left around Jeremiah’s. The music starts again, and the circle whirls around, faster and faster, till suddenly my legs leave the ground and I’m spinning around like the wing of a fan. All the girls’ feet have left the ground. It’s a mad and crazy dance, and I’m holding on to Greg and Jeremiah just to stop myself from flying off into the air.
After the dance, we sit on the lawn that leads down to the rhododendron grove. Everyone is here. Serafina is next to me. Every time she laughs, she touches my arm lightly. It’s lovely to feel so wanted, so at home, in spite of everything that’s happened with Greg.
Celestina is opposite me. She’s very quiet tonight. I keep catching her gazing out into the darkness behind me. She has let a long strand of shiny black hair fall across half her face. I don’t know why. If my face looked like hers, I wouldn’t hide any of it.
Emanuel is stretched out next to Serafina. He’s not talking much either. When he does, it’s to Jeremiah, opposite him.
Greg’s sitting beside me. He’s quiet too, not joking around with Emanuel tonight. He’s leaving the Institute for good tomorrow. They’ve all known each other forever. It must be a sad thing for them, to say good-bye.
“Verity,” says Greg, not really looking at me.
“Yes?”
He’s speaking so softly that I have to lean closer to hear him.
“Emanuel and I and Celestina are going for a swim tonight,” he says. “Come, if you like. We’re meeting at the pond after this.” He pauses. “It’s the last night.”
I don’t know what to say at first. “Thanks,” I say at last. But I know I won’t go.
ONLY SERAFINA AND I go back to the room. Serafina seems down. She doesn’t mention her citizen boyfriend, so neither do I.
“The others are going for a swim,” I say.
“I know,” she says. “You go, if you want. I don’t mind. I can’t swim.”
“No, it’s OK.”
I lie in the dark with my arms behind my head. The darkness presses against my eyeballs. It’s not too late. I could still go. Greg asked me to. But then I think of Celestina and Greg, and I stay where I am. My last night in the Sisters’ house. Eventually I fall asleep.
I wake up as the door creaks open. Celestina is creeping in, just like she did on that first night here. She tiptoes over toward her bed. I can smell the peaty scent of the pond, and now that it’s too late, I know I made a mistake. Greg asked me to go. It was the first time he’s spoken kindly to me since that night when he stood beneath the arch and said he was sorry. Oh, why didn’t I go? He asked me. After tomorrow I may never see Greg again. The thought wedges itself into my throat.
I STAND AT the top of the steps that lead to the Brothers’ house, in the walled courtyard where strawberries and champagne are being served to students, parents, and visitors. It’s the last day, quiet after last night’s party on this golden afternoon with its clear light that makes everything look not quite real. Serafina is over by the drinks table, in her favorite pink skirt, standing with her parents and smiling a muted smile. Her parents look as if they’re at a wedding. Emanuel is very close to Serafina.
I can’t see Greg, or Jeremiah, in the crowd. I put my dish of strawberries on the corner of a trestle table and watch Celestina standing alone with a glass of champagne in her hand. Then I look behind me. Greg is on his own too. His family is still abroad. My friends are lonely; it’s not just me.
Brer Magnus’s voice goes up and down with the birdsong. “Dark days lie ahead,” he intones. “We must all be vigilant.”
Reconciliation means dark days for him? I look away quickly, but suddenly he is right in front of me, holding out his hand and smiling. “Congratulations, Verity,” says Brer Magnus as I stiffly shake his hand.
But before I ask him what he means, I see Ril coming through the arch toward me. She smiles from beneath her official social worker wig. Instantly I become aware of the folded papers tucked into my pocket. I took them off the bedside table last night, and they’ve been burning a hole ever since.
AND NOW BRER Magnus is distracted: Jeremiah’s father is patting his shoulder and talking to him.
I start as Celestina touches my arm. “You didn’t come swimming last night,” she says.
“Did you and Greg have a nice time?”
She leans closer. “You think I like Greg?” she whispers. “Is that what you think?”
“Maybe,” I whisper back.
“No.” She pauses. “He’s a boy.” She gives me a quick, sad smile. “He knows my parents don’t accept me.”
I think back to what she said before: My parents like me better from a distance. “I’m sorry, Celestina,” I say.
She shakes her head. “It’s OK, it’s fine. Greg . . . he’s the only one I can really talk to.” She smiles, brightly this time. “And now you.” Then she turns away.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Greg shaking Brer Magnus’s hand. He’s leaving. Celestina goes and puts her arms tightly around him, and they hug silently. Then slowly Greg makes his way over to me.
“Well, bye then,” he says.
“Bye.”
I don’t move toward him.
There’s a long moment when our eyes lock together. I don’t breathe. All I can see are Greg’s brown eyes. Then he turns away and is gone, down the steps toward the Brothers’ house, his feet scuffing up tiny flecks of dirt.
Ril has reached Brer Magnus and is waiting to greet him.
Brer Magnus is speaking to me again, but his voice has blurred into a ringing in my ears. Everything stills in the green and golden air. And there goes the last tiny red sight of Greg, away down through the trees.
All my moments seem balanced on this one moment. What can I offer Greg? Almost everything he knows about me is false. I’m spinning off into thin air.
Far away, I hear Brer Magnus’s voice: “So, Verity, what do you think?”
And Ril: “That’s tremendous news, Verity!”
I think I must tell Greg who I am.
The deck-chair swishes around my legs as I turn and run down the steps, toward the Brothers’ house. I hear shocked voices behind me. Maybe I am too late. Now I’m leaping down the steps two at a time, kicking off my pumps and hitching up my dress, almost turning my ankle. Greg has vanished behind the rhododendrons. He’s at the bottom of the steps, where there’s an arch with a wooden gate. His hand is on the latch.
“Greg! Greg!”
He stops and looks up, then turns away and pulls the handle down.
“Wait for me!” I call as I reach the bottom of the steps. He’s about to open the gate into the Brothers’ garden, but he stops.
He waits, his hair flattened to his head by the heat. In the shadow of the wall, his eyes look black. They have already said good-bye to me.
I reach him. I catch hold of his hands. Surprise flickers into his face.
“I couldn’t let you go . . .” But I have to stop to catch my breath.
“Without saying good-bye properly?” Greg shrugs.
“No! I couldn’t let you go. I can’t let you go.”
Now he really looks at me. He isn’t smiling, but he takes a little step toward me. He’s so near that it’s easy for me to put my hands on his shoulders and pull him closer. Then I put my arms around his neck to stop him from leaving. His short hair feels as silky as a seal’s.
Greg takes my hands, so I have to step back. But he holds t
hem tightly. “Verity,” he says. “I don’t want to let you go either.”
“There’s something I have to tell you first,” I say, pulling farther back so that I can look at his face. But it’s so good to be able to look right into his eyes without hiding everything that I stop and just smile at him instead. Our eyes fix on each other. You could swear there were no secrets between us. “You don’t really know me.”
“No, wait. Stop,” says Greg. “Don’t tell me.” He pulls me close to him again. “Don’t tell me,” he whispers into my hair. “Not yet.”
I know I’ll have to think about what that means, but not now. Later. At the back of my mind a foreboding lurks, because I know this is one bridge I’ll never be able to burn.
“Verity,” says Greg, “I have to go now or I’ll miss my plane. But give me your address so we can see each other before we come back.”
“Before we come back?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Brer Magnus hasn’t told you? You got an unconditional offer for junior year.” He smiles. “And a Distinction in Art.”
Of course Greg knew this before I did. Maybe that’s what Brer Magnus was just about to tell me.
“And you?”
He smiles at me. “I’m staying too. I’m not going to go for Medicine now, so I might as well stay here and do Art.”
Now I’m smiling.
“It was because of you,” he says. “You said, ‘It’s your life.’”
I wish I’d said that to myself, when I first met Oskar. But then I never would have met Greg.
“So, your address?”
“I don’t have one.”
Greg leans back so he can look at me, one of his old looks.
That makes me smile again. “My social worker is here to pick me up, but I don’t know where I’m going.”
Greg holds me to him. I feel his back through the soft flannel of his red-checked shirt. His hands are warm on my back. I breathe in the smell of him. I feel his heart beating, fast, just the other side of mine.
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