The Couple's Secret Read online

  ‘You guys can get going. I’m fine from here, honestly.’

  Mum looked doubtful. ‘Are you sure?’

  I nodded and tried to give her an encouraging smile. ‘Yes, very sure.’

  She hugged me and then so did Dad, a little more awkwardly, and then they got in their car and drove off, Mum giving a little wave out of the window as she went.

  It only took just over an hour to get the unpacking finished and organised neatly into drawers and the rather generous cupboard standing up against one of the stone walls. Its dark, mahogany doors made me think back to a similar kind of thing my grandfather had when I was a little girl. I used to play hide and seek with him, well aware he wouldn’t ever find me. He knew where I was, of course, but he let me win.

  I sat down on the bed and scuffed my shoes on the rug. What now? I thought I should go and meet some other people. I knew there would be a gathering of some sort down in the common room, and we’d be given older students as sort of parents so we had a first port of call if we ever needed to talk to someone who knew the university back to front. I was about to get up when there was a knock on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ I called, then, realising it was on the latch, said, ‘Oh, hold on a moment.’ I ran to the door, hurriedly flattening down my hair as I did so in case I looked like a crazy blonde haystack. I unlocked the door and opened it to find a beaming girl’s face greeting me.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, very loudly – too loudly, I thought, considering I was standing right in front of her. ‘How’s it all going? Have you got unpacked yet? Absolute nightmare, isn’t it? I’ve only got through one and a half bags.’

  She strode past me and stood, hands on her waist, looking about.

  ‘Oh my gosh, how tidy you are! We are going to be such friends, I know it. They say opposites attract and I am hands down the messiest person you’ve ever come across. Honestly, it’s scary.’

  Her low, rather plummy voice was both reassuring in its confidence and intimidating in its speed. I smiled politely and thought I’d better take things back to simpler, more introductory areas of conversation. ‘Hi, I’m Holly.’

  ‘Oh, of course you are, of course you are. So sorry. What a lovely name, too. Holly. Holly.’ She said it out loud twice, as if trying it on for size, then nodded. ‘Good, good. I’m Aphrodite. My mum did classics. Obsessed with Greece. Bit of a freak. You can call me Ally, though. Everyone does. What kind of fucking sadist names their own child Aphrodite, eh?’

  ‘Umm, one obsessed with Greece, I suppose,’ I said feebly, hoping it sounded like a light-hearted response rather than an insult towards her mother.

  ‘You’ve got it in one. Totally bonkers, all of my family are. Though they think I’m stark raving mad for wanting to come here.’

  I raised my eyebrows at this. Her accent was very upper class, but maybe that was just affected. Maybe she actually did come from a relatively normal family like mine. ‘Are you the first in your family to go to uni?’ I asked.

  She looked at me as if I’d suddenly spoken to her in Japanese. ‘No, of course not. But they all went to sodding Cambridge. I’m the rebel who went to Oxford … well, Ernest and I. My brother, Ernest. We’re twins, but he is light years more intelligent than I am. Thinks I talk like a commoner.’

  I laughed nervously, worrying what he’d think of my accent if he thought she sounded common.

  ‘He’s already here. In the year above. Started early. You’ll meet him. Everyone does at some point. Rampant shagger, my darling brother. He’d have his eye on you. Blonde hair, blue eyes, slim figure and a vagina. You’re ticking all the boxes so far, so watch out.’ She let out a low rumble of laughter. I was reminded of a gym teacher we had when I was seven. Miss Marks, I think her name was. Her laugh seemed to reverberate around the school hall, although this girl, Ally, seemed to carry off her low voice with sophistication rather than awkwardness. She was substantially taller than me, also blonde, though a darker tone, especially at the roots, and seemed to be able to command the room around her, even though I was the only audience she had.

  ‘So, have you met your mummy yet?’

  For a second I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, then I understood. ‘Oh, the older student?’

  ‘Yes, the one to show you around, make sure you’re not crying yourself to sleep at night, that sort of thing.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘Oh, that’s not good. They should have met you when you arrived. And your daddy. Or have they axed daddies? I’m not sure. Let’s go and find you one.’ She made it sound like we were going off to get an ice cream. I wasn’t even certain I wanted a ‘mummy’. I’d always been pretty good at finding my own way through things, but I didn’t want to look standoffish. Ally grabbed my hand and led me out of my room.

  ‘Don’t bother locking your door, nobody does around here. There’s a general rule: if you’ve locked your door, you’re having sex. Or a total essay-breakdown. My brother has those from time to time.’ She was leading me through the corridors, apparently confident in where she was going. ‘Ah! Here we are.’ A small gathering of students was in front of us, some of them looking lost, others holding clipboards. One of the clipboard girls smiled at Ally and said hello and the others nodded. Apparently everyone knew her. ‘Got an orphan here for you, Catherine; her name is Holly,’ Ally barked at her.

  ‘Oh God, have you been left without a parent, too?’ The girl called Catherine was looking down her clipboard. ‘I’m so sorry about this, there’s been such a mix-up with numbers. The person who helps organise all this is from the maths department, but you wouldn’t know it. Let’s see …’ She chewed on her pencil while I just smiled politely, trying not to look too demanding.

  ‘I don’t need anyone, honestly,’ I said quietly, but Catherine didn’t seem to hear.

  ‘Holly Rowe? Is that right?… Hmm, you’re supposed to be with Caitlin, but I don’t know where she’s … ah, here she is now.’

  Another girl had appeared, as if from nowhere. Short, round and looking extremely cheerful, I couldn’t help but feel heartened by her presence. Here was someone I didn’t have to be intimidated by, I thought, then instantly despised myself for the value judgement. Was it a value judgement? I decided to ponder that later and offered my hand. ‘Hi, I’m Holly,’ I said, then realised I’d interrupted Catherine, who was halfway through asking Caitlin why she hadn’t been there to greet me on my arrival.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Caitlin said in a warm, kind-sounding voice with a slight northern slant. She shook my outstretched hand, still grinning. ‘I was double-booked, so to speak – given another girl in a different block, which is strange as I thought I’d made it clear …’

  ‘Well, I’m glad all this has been sorted,’ said Catherine curtly, then promptly left our little group and went to speak to another student on the other side of the hallway.

  ‘She’s a bit of a force of nature, Catherine,’ Ally said. ‘I think she hates me, but is too proud to show it. Probably because she fucked my brother and he didn’t get back in touch.’ I saw Caitlin blush at this. Ally turned to her and said, ‘You know what, I’m super-fine to take care of Holly if you wanted to get back to your other charge.’

  I began saying that I didn’t need taking care of but Caitlin got in first. ‘I don’t think that would be allowed. You’re a first year and the whole point is …’

  ‘Oh, nonsense. I’ve been here heaps of times. My brother, Ernest, is a second-year here.’

  Caitlin’s eyes widened a little. ‘You’re Ernest Kelman’s sister?’

  ‘Guilty as charged!’ Ally said brightly, then laughed loudly.

  ‘So that means your … your dad is …’

  Ally rolled her eyes, as if to say here we go again. ‘Yes, dearest Daddy, also known as Clive Kelman, Tory MP. One of Auntie Maggie’s closest chums. Major prick in private, though don’t tell the Telegraph I said that.’

  ‘I … I won’t,’ Caitlin said, looking a litt
le starstruck. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to look equally impressed, but politics had never been a strong interest of mine and the name didn’t mean anything. Still, the fact that her dad was an MP was interesting, regardless, if rather daunting. If the first person I’d met was the daughter of an MP, I didn’t like to think about the backgrounds of my other fellow students. Who would I meet next? The offspring of judges? Film stars? Minor royalty?

  We headed back down the corridor towards my room, Caitlin’s concerns obliterated by Ally’s familial connections. She’d rushed off, giving me a small wave and an encouraging smile. We had almost reached my room when Ally stopped and approached one of the other doors. The sound of voices was emanating from it. Male voices. She seemed to be listening intently.

  ‘What is it?’ I said, looking at her and then at the door. ‘Whose room is that?’

  ‘It’s my room,’ she replied in a loud whisper.

  ‘Has someone broken in?’ I said, louder than I meant to, then cringed at how melodramatic it sounded.

  ‘Someone has certainly entered uninvited. I was just trying to work out who was with him. Oh dear, as if I didn’t know …’

  I wanted to ask who she was referring to, but before I could she’d flung open the door forcefully and marched inside. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to follow, but was too intrigued to wait, so walked in after her.

  ‘Well. This is a pretty sight, isn’t it?’ Her hands were on her hips again.

  Two boys were lying on her bed, laughing. One had a cigarette in his hand, the other a hardback book. There was something odd about the way they were lying together, side by side, on the single bed, their legs up against each other. I’d never seen boys behave like this, as if they had some deep-rooted familiarity. Both were extremely good-looking. One was blond, slim, with a distinct jawline, and was obviously Ally’s brother. The other was larger, though from muscle rather than fat, with dark hair and a face that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a movie poster. In fact, he could almost have passed for a younger Tom Cruise.

  ‘Sis!’ The blond one pulled himself up into a sitting position. Tom Cruise stayed horizontal, his eyes settling on us.

  ‘Don’t call me sis,’ she snapped.

  ‘Very well, Aphrodite.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘Don’t give me that. Why are you on my bed?’

  The blond boy adopted a look of great offence and clutched a hand to his white-shirted chest. ‘You wound me, sis. I thought you said to come and visit you whenever I liked.’

  ‘I said nothing of the kind.’ Ally now turned her cold eyes on the other boy. ‘James, I expected better of you.’

  ‘He led me astray,’ the boy said in a low, resonant tone. For some reason his voice sent a ripple down my shoulders. I shivered slightly and his eyes flicked over to me. ‘Are you cold?’ he said, smiling, as if he somehow knew he was having an effect on me.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ I said.

  ‘Introduce us to your friend, sis,’ the blond boy said, drawing on the cigarette.

  Ally turned to me. ‘Holly, this is my prat of a brother, Ernest.’

  I wasn’t sure if I should offer my hand, but he didn’t seem inclined to get off the bed any time soon, so I just waved. He smiled in return. A nice smile, making his otherwise hard face seem friendlier.

  ‘The other layabout is James, my brother’s best friend and occasional shag-buddy.’

  Ernest’s smile became more of a smirk. ‘Still dining out on that joke, sis? Wasn’t funny the first time.’

  ‘Makes me laugh,’ she said.

  The other boy was also smiling. ‘Not entirely a lie, though,’ he said, nudging Ernest with his elbow. He winked at me and I felt myself blushing.

  ‘Too much info,’ Ally said, tersely.

  James pulled himself upright and stepped off the bed. He held out a hand to me and I took it. ‘James Knight. Very nice to meet you … Holly, was it?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, trying to hold his gaze but finding it difficult. It felt as though his dark eyes were staring right past my face, reading my thoughts. It was an uncomfortable sensation, but electric somehow, and part of me didn’t want it to stop.

  ‘Well, isn’t that nice.’ He pulled his hand back. ‘Ernest and I need to leave his sister in peace now. But I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot more of you soon. A friend of Ally’s is a friend of ours.’ He said it as if it were a strict rule he was fully committed to. I just nodded, hoping I didn’t appear as uncomfortable as I felt. Eventually he said, ‘Come on, Ern. Let’s take our leave.’

  Ernest got up off the bed, flattening his shirt down and patting his sister on the shoulder as he passed her.

  ‘Thanks for the secondhand cancer,’ she said, waving a hand in the air to clear the smoke. Once the door was closed she sat down on her bed with a sigh.

  ‘So that was Ernest.’

  I smiled, standing awkwardly in front of her.

  ‘And James, of course. James is all right.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, and realised I was smiling. ‘He certainly seemed to be.’

  She glanced at me and laughed. ‘Oh, sure he’s gorgeous. Less of a womaniser than my brother, though. More choosy.’

  I wondered if she was implying he was out of my league. I thought about asking if he was single, then worried that would sound too forward, as if I was actively interested. Which I was, I realised, with a lurch in the stomach. If only, I thought, then pulled myself together. It felt silly to imagine such things, having barely set foot in the place or met anyone new. I was tragically out of my depth – even a passing stranger on the street would have been able to tell as much, been able to spot my lack of experience, my awkward approach to socialising. In the future, I would wonder what it was I did during that afternoon that led to me being singled out from the rest, chosen, made to feel both special and alone. And, after a lot of introspection and clawing back over the past, I still don’t really have the answer. I was just being me. No mask, no pretence. Being myself. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you meet people for the first time. That’s one of the main rules. Isn’t it?

  Chapter 4

  Julianne

  Knightsbridge, 2019

  James is staring at me from the bottom of the stairs. ‘Where have you been?’ he asks.

  ‘I was … just talking to Stephen.’ It’s the truth at least, but I avoid his eyes as I say it. My mother is currently doing her best to avoid mine. She does this – it’s one of the little games she plays. Starves people of attention, makes them crave it, then turns the spotlight on to full beam and makes you want to shrink from view. At the moment she’s moving her scarf from one peg to another.

  ‘I don’t want it getting all crumpled and covered in stuff when people go in and out the door,’ she says by way of an explanation to the wall, making it sound like we regularly have a pack of mud-covered dogs going in and out of the house.

  ‘Hello, Mom. And there’s nobody else coming, so your scarf will be safe regardless of where it is.’

  She lets out a ‘Hmmm’, her way of saying I’m not convinced, then finally leaves her scarf alone and turns to look at me. ‘Julianne, dearest, how have you been? You look … haggard.’

  If anyone else had said this I’d be offended, but from my mother it’s only to be expected. ‘It’s only been two weeks since I last saw you. I can’t have changed that much.’

  She shakes her head and looks at me as if staring at someone who’s just been told they’re terminal. ‘It just saddens me to see you run yourself so ragged. You’re probably doing too much again. Where’s that housekeeper of yours? What does she actually do? I swear she has a holiday every other day.’

  ‘It’s Cassie’s day off. Her first this week. And she isn’t always on holiday.’ I hear the closing of a door upstairs and jump slightly. Stephen must have gone back to his own room. My slight movement doesn’t escape my mother’s ever-observant eye.

  ‘Goodness, you’re twitchy. Maybe yo
u should sit down.’

  ‘No, Mom, I need to go and finish the food.’

  ‘I can do that,’ James says, probably considering it the lesser of the two evils when compared with making small talk. He disappears off to the kitchen, leaving my mother smiling and shaking her head a little.

  ‘James is such a dear,’ she says.

  I stare back blankly at her. My husband always gets the compliments, the praise, the terms of endearment. It’s probably because of all the money he’s given her over the years. Helping her buy a new property when we were married. The steady money she’s become used to, going out of our joint account and into hers every month. He’s her saviour, in many respects.

  ‘I don’t know what the world’s coming to when the man of the house has to tend to the cooking.’ She drops her gaze as she says this and continues to shake her head, as if slightly sad.

  On some days I fight back. I pick her up on her sexism, her little digs, her many prejudices, her dated worldview. But today I haven’t got the energy. I just look at her, standing there in her crisp tailored blazer, as if she’s about to attend a boardroom meeting. She’s never set foot in a boardroom in her life, but dresses every day like she’s ready to negotiate a corporate merger or try to poach a big new client from a rival legal firm. ‘Dress for success’ is what she always used to teach me as a child. I can see her now, eyeing up my plain, dark-green, John Lewis own-brand cardigan, her lips curving down slightly at the sides. She doesn’t approve.

  ‘Come on into the lounge, Mom.’

  I walk in ahead of her and immediately go to the drinks table. ‘Do you want anything?’

  ‘If you’re referring to a drink, Julianne, I will have a small sherry.’

  I sigh as I pour the liquid into a glass and turn round to hand it to her. She’s appraising the Christmas tree, stepping back, slowly and deliberately, as one would in an art gallery when trying to take in a painting as a whole. She nods. ‘Very nice,’ she says. ‘Very … homely.’

  ‘Well, this is a home, so I guess something went right,’ I say.