David smiled sardonically back at him and took a drink from his glass, at the same time once more catching the eye of the brown-haired girl, who had again momentarily looked up from her book. She raised her eyebrows and almost imperceptibly shook her head before looking down again.
“So who won the tennis match?” Toby asked.
“We did—just,” David replied. “That’s why I’m so late. The final set went up to 13-11. What time does your cricket match start?”
“Two o’clock.” Toby sucked in a shivering breath and executed a short drum roll on his knees with his hands. “And I’m nervous as hell. Somebody, in their infinite wisdom, has decided that I should open the batting.”
“Hell’s teeth!” David said, rubbing his hands together in evil glee. “I’m not going to miss that!” He got to his feet. “Come on, you’d better have another one. Build up your Dutch courage. What do you want?”
“Well, it’ll have to be quick. Just a half of Flowers.” He stretched his arms above his head, then placed one with awkward nonchalance around Jane’s shoulder. “And you can get a half of lager for Jane while you’re at it.”
David pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his tennis shorts and headed off towards the bar, leaving Toby to continue his somewhat clumsy seduction of Jane. He had only taken a few steps when he stopped and turned to look across the table at the brown-haired girl. “Would you like another drink?”
She continued to study her book, seeming not to have heard him above the general noise. He leaned over towards her. “I wondered if you would like another drink.”
She glanced up, starting back with surprise when she realized that David was looming over her. “What? Oh! Well, that’s very kind of you.” She picked up her glass, drained it and handed it to him. “An orange juice would be lovely! Thank you!” She flashed her smiling eyes once more and immediately returned to her reading.
It took two trips back and forth to the bar to get the whole order complete on the table. Finally he placed the glass of juice in front of the brown-haired girl, and as he sat down she looked up and smiled a thank-you at him. Just then, Toby turned to witness this further exchange. He suddenly picked up his beer, drained it in one gulp and jumped to his feet.
“Right! The time of reckoning is nigh!” He clasped his hands theatrically across his heart and looked down at Jane. “But after the battle is won, I shall return to claim my prize!” Bending down, he delivered a long, loud kiss on the cheek of the giggling girl. Then he turned to David with a sly grin on his face.
“And I think I’ll give one to your friend as well!”
Before David could utter a word to stop him, Toby had put his hand on the head of the brown-haired girl and bent down towards her. It had been his intention merely to give her a peck on the forehead, but the unexpected and unsolicited contact made the girl jerk her face upwards to look at him, her mouth open to issue some exclamation of surprise or rebuke. This movement and Toby’s forward momentum were so perfectly yet unintentionally synchronized that he found himself administering a kiss not to the planned target, but directly onto her open mouth.
Her reaction to this unwelcome infringement could not have been more immediate. The book left her hands and flew up in the air, and David reached up and caught it with one hand as it sailed over the top of his head. Her arms flailed and her legs kicked out as she freed herself from Toby’s embrace, throwing the table violently forward before it crashed back down again on its four legs. Glasses fell over and rolled across the surface of the table, liberally spilling their contents over the people who sat nearby. Warning shouts filled the air as everyone jumped up in the confined space, trying to avoid the cascading flow by opening their legs under the table or pulling their knees round hard against their seats.
In one movement, the girl rose to her feet and gave Toby a mighty open-handed clout on the side of the face. He reeled back from the force and sat down in a pool of beer.
“Sorry! sorry!” Toby exclaimed, holding his hands up in defence against a further attack. “I really didn’t mean to do that!”
The girl looked at him angrily, her eyes narrowed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? How dare you?”
She started to move away, but as an afterthought she turned back and aimed a sharp and powerful kick at his shin under the table before stamping off towards the door of the pub, the packed and silent crowd parting for her as willingly as the Red Sea had parted for the Israelites.
As the door slammed shut, laughter first bubbled, then erupted everywhere in the pub but at their table. Toby sat with a shocked expression on his face, slowly rubbing his cheek with one hand and his shin with the other, while the others around the table, attempting ineffectively to wipe down their sodden clothing with their hands, glared disapprovingly at him.
“Sorry about that,” he said defensively, holding up his hand in apology to the assembled company. He looked across at David. “Christ, she’s a bit unpredictable, isn’t she, your friend?”
Still clutching the girl’s book in his hand, David sat shaking his head in disbelief at Toby’s actions. “She’s not my friend, you bloody fool! I’ve never seen her before in my life!”
“Come on! I saw you buy her a drink!”
“So? I bought her a drink. Doesn’t mean you have the right to molest the poor girl.”
“I didn’t mean to do, well, that! It was a mistake!” he whinged, rubbing hard at his face and his leg. “Jesus, I hurt all over.”
David got up from the bench. “Serves you bloody right, you twit.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I’ve still got her book. I’ll go and see if I can catch her and try to apologize for your … lunatic actions.” As he turned and started to make his way through the crowds, Toby called after him in a disappointed voice.
“Does that mean you won’t come to watch me bat?”
David stopped and looked back at him, shaking his head. “Listen, I’ll try, but I think she’s the priority right now, don’t you?”
He pushed his way through the doors of the pub and stood blinking on the crowded pavement, trying to get his eyes accustomed to the bright sunlight. There was no sign of the girl. He moved ten paces to his left and caught a glimpse of her as she made her way purposefully along the Broad, dodging through the mass of pedestrians. He jogged along the pavement, clutching the book in his right hand, every so often jumping up to keep sight of her bobbing brown mass of hair amongst the mêlée of hatted heads and sunglassed faces. Then, finding it too hard to navigate through the crowd, he stepped out onto the street and started to sprint along the gutter.
He caught up with her just as she passed the gates of Balliol College, and slowed to a fast walk beside her, matching her pace. “Listen, I’m sorry about all that.”
She looked sideways at him, then, without speaking, turned eyes front and kept walking.
“I just wanted to apologize…”
She stopped and turned to look directly at David. “Look! Let’s just leave it, shall we?”
David held up his hands in an act of appeasement, the right still clutching the book. She took off again, taking David’s lead in stepping off the pavement and making her way along the gutter. He sighed resignedly and watched her go, her long legs, clad in a pair of faded Levi’s, stretching out and away from him, his eyes focusing on her neat denim-clad bottom as she walked down the street. It was only when he saw her veer across the Broad and disappear around the corner into Cornmarket that he was brought abruptly to his senses.
“Shit! Her book!” He took off at full tilt, dodging through the oncoming cars, taking the straightest line to the point where he had lost sight of her. Skidding his way round into Cornmarket, he saw her immediately, twenty yards in front, still striding up the gutter. At last he caught up with her.
“Look, I’ve got your book for you,” he said, exasperated, holding it out towards her.
She stopped and turned to him. He smiled at her, trying to show that he was friend, not foe
. “You left it in the pub,” he said quietly.
The girl reached over and grabbed the book and was about to make off again when she turned to him, a thunderous expression on her face. “Do you know, there just happens to be one thing I cannot stand and that’s the taste of beer, and what’s even worse than drinking it is being forced to taste it via someone else’s mouth!”
For a moment David looked at her incredulously, then felt the overpowering urge to start laughing. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his tennis shorts and glanced down at his feet so that she wouldn’t see his reaction to her remark. When he eventually did look back up at her, his face still bore the merest hint of a smile.
“Well, I’m glad you think it’s funny,” she said sharply, and turned to walk off.
David quickly jumped in front of her, and held up his hands to halt her passage. “Please listen, just stop for a minute … erm…” He looked around, desperately trying to work out his next move. The shop immediately adjacent to them was an off-licence. “Look, would you stay here, please, just for a minute.”
He moved sideways towards the off-licence, watching her warily in case she decided to bolt off again. He dived into the shop and reappeared thirty seconds later clutching a half-bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne. He blew out a sigh of relief when he saw she was still there.
“Look,” he said, holding out the bottle towards her, “this is just a small peace offering to say I’m sorry for what happened in the pub. It was unforgivable, and I hope … well, I just hope that this’ll help you get rid of the taste of beer!”
As they stood there, bumped and jostled by the passing crowds, David watched her closely. She started to bite at her bottom lip, and his heart sank as she half turned away from him. For a moment, he thought that this last chance to make amends had flown out the window when she looked back at him, her eyes creased into the same captivating smile that she had given him in the pub. Suddenly she broke into a laugh, and eyeing the bottle in his hands, slid her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
“Well, that has to be the most expensive bottle of mouthwash I’ve ever been bought!” She paused for a moment, then, pushing her fingers through her hair, took a deep breath. “Look, what happened in the pub really doesn’t justify you buying this.” She paused and pulled an embarrassed face. “I think that I probably over-reacted a bit. Anyway, it’s not really for you to apologize.”
David smiled at her. “Well, I think someone has to.” He offered her the bottle. “Okay, if not an apology, then let’s just call it—an introductory offer.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she slowly took the bottle and clasped it in her arms next to the book. “Well, in that case, thank you, it’s more than generous.” She held out her right hand towards him. “And by way of introduction, I’m Rachel Devereux.”
David took hold of her hand. “Hi, Rachel,” he said, overwhelmed with relief that the whole incident was apparently finished with. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m David Corstor——”
“I know you are,” Rachel interjected, a huge grin on her face. “Oxford Blue at tennis, titled, lieutenant in the army, what else was it? Oh yes, rock star…”
David felt himself blush. “Ah, of course, Toby’s wretched introduction!” He looked up at her and smiled. “I think we’d both be better off if we forgot about that little interlude, don’t you?”
Rachel smiled and nodded. “Maybe for the best.”
“Good! So, which way are you heading now?”
“Back the way we came.” Rachel flicked up her wrist and looked at her watch. “I was meant to be at the science buildings at two o’clock for a tutorial, but I don’t think I’ll make it.”
David put his hand on her arm and turned her in the direction of Broad Street. “Come on, I’ve got a car back at the pub. Even in this infernal traffic, I think we’ve more chance of making it on wheels than on foot. At any rate, I’m going up that way.” He glanced apprehensively at her as they walked. “Maybe I shouldn’t really say this, but I’m meant to be watching Toby play cricket this afternoon.”
Rachel looked sideways at him, a rueful smile on her face. “Yes, you’re right. Better left unsaid.”
They walked briskly up Cornmarket and around the corner into the Broad, sometimes divided and at other times pushed together by the crowds coming towards them. “So how does it work, you being here at Oxford and being in the army at the same time?”
“Well, I’m not really in the army yet. I’m what Toby quite rightly termed a ‘second lieutenant-in-brackets-on-probation.’ I joined up after leaving school, the army pay my way through university, and then, if all goes well with my finals, I do six months at Sandhurst and five years with the regiment.”
“Right. So when are the finals?”
“God, I wish you wouldn’t ask that question.” He looked over to her, pretending to chew on the fingernails of his right hand. “Next month!”
“Yeah, same as me.”
“Really? I can’t believe that. Which college are you in?”
“Hertford. Why do you say you can’t believe it?”
“Well … because … well, I just thought that I might have met you before now. I mean, Oxford’s not that big a place.”
Rachel turned and smiled at him, but said nothing more until they had turned the corner of the Broad and were nearing the car. David took the keys from his pocket and Rachel walked out into the street to stand by the passenger door.
“Actually, I have seen you around,” she said, looking at him over the roof of the car.
David stopped as he put the key in the door and glanced at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “Really? Whereabouts?”
“I don’t know. Just around.”
“Then why haven’t I seen you?”
Rachel shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe you just haven’t been looking in the right direction.”
The remark was laced with such possibly seductive innuendo that David felt an involuntary shiver of excitement course its way up his spine. He looked directly at her, catching the physical intent of the statement in her eyes.
“Obviously not,” he said quietly to himself. Unlocking the car, he climbed in, and having bundled the pile of cassettes back into the glove compartment, he reached over to open the passenger door. Rachel threw her book onto the back seat and jumped in, wedging the bottle of champagne between her feet.
“The science building, then?”
She thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think it’s worth it. My tutorial will have started by now.” She looked across at him. “Anyway, what the hell! I haven’t had a break from my books in weeks. Maybe I’d be better doing something relaxing, like watching cricket.”
David was taken aback by her suggestion. “Are you sure?”
“Why not? As long as I don’t have to make physical contact with your friend Toby again!”
David let out a short laugh and, pushing the car into gear, he pulled away from the kerb and manoeuvred a tight U-turn on the junction of Broad and Holywell Streets, then headed back up Parks Road towards the university grounds.
He counted five cricket matches in progress as he drove the car as unobtrusively as possible around the periphery of the grounds, straining his eyes to see if he could make out any familiar figure on the pitches. He passed by the first game, and on to the second, and there caught sight of Toby standing in the crease at the bowler’s end, one hand leaning on his bat, the other placed firmly on his hip, an air of confidence about his person.
“There he is!” he said, pointing Toby out to Rachel. “We’ll park here, next to the sight-screen, and hope we don’t get moved along.”
“What’s the sight-screen for?” Rachel asked, looking at the large white board that stood beside them.
“Well, it’s positioned in direct line with the bowler and the batsman, so that the batsman can get a clear sight of the ball when it comes at him.” David looked over at the score-board. “God, the jammy devi
l! He’s only three runs off his half-century! No wonder he’s looking so cocky!”
Rachel sighed. “If he’s only got three more runs to make his half-century or whatever, why is he standing around doing nothing?”
“He’s not facing the bowling at the minute.”
“I’ve never understood the stupid game. When you’re in, you’re out there, and when you’re out, you come back in here again.”
Leaning forward, she picked up the half-bottle of champagne and pulled off the foil top. She rolled down the window and, twisting off the wire, exploded the cork towards the sight-screen, quickly putting the top of the bottle to her lips to catch the first frothing mouthful. She handed it over to David.
“It’s over,” he said, taking a swig and pointing towards the game.
“What, already?”
“No, not the game. ‘Over’ just means it’s time for someone to bowl from this end. It’s Toby’s turn to face now.”
Rachel shook her head. “It’s a very stupid game.” She reached over for the bottle and took another sip.
David watched the new bowler walk back towards where they were sitting in the car, turn twenty-five yards from the wicket and set off like an express train towards the crease. The first ball was a vicious out-swinger at which Toby attempted to play a forward defensive shot, but missed it by a foot. He straightened and strutted up the wicket, tamping with his bat at various spots on the ground, obviously feeling that they were the major cause for his missing the last ball by such a wide margin. He returned to his crease, played a practice shot identical to the one that had just failed him, flexed his knees, and readied himself for the next ball.
“Wow, I’m not used to champagne!” Rachel said, leaning back in her seat. “I can feel it going straight to my head!” She rolled her head back and forth against the head-rest, then something on the dashboard of the car caught her eye. She leaned forward and pointed to the cassette player. “So, this is the famous stereo system that Toby was on about?”
An Ocean Apart Page 5