From The Moment I Saw Him .... (8 page)

“Did you know John was queer?” I asked.  “Have I
been incredibly naive?  I honestly never thought about it, I just enjoyed being
with him.”

Emily frowned into the distance, and twiddled with
her pen.

“Well - I did sometimes wonder why he was so willing
not
to get physical, from what you said.  But you make such a striking
couple.  And Jo and I were pleased that you weren’t mooning around about Nick
so much.  What will you do?  Are you at all in love with him?” she asked, in
her direct way.

“No, I don’t think so, I’ve just enjoyed his
company.  But I feel I’ll have to say something now.  Why is life so
complicated
?”

I was due to meet John again the next afternoon.  He
greeted me with his usual affectionate courtesy, and we strolled into the
University Parks, enjoying the warm early summer sunshine.

Cricket balls thwacked on wood in the distance, and
the river was merry with college punts, brightly dressed girls and dripping
young men battling with punt poles.

“I love all this about England,” John said, as we
paused on a bridge over the river.  “I love this kind of pastoral idyll, I like
the way it’s being going on for years, and will still be happening long after
we’re not around.  It’s not quite the same in America, somehow.”

“Mmmm.”

 I must have sounded distracted.  He swung round to
gaze at me.  Then he said,

“That’s a nasty little girl we met yesterday.  I
hope you’re not big buddies.”

“Far from it.”

I scuffed my feet, head down.

“Eithne?”

“Well - she told me she thought I was a - a fag
hag.”  

 I thought suddenly it was best to spit it out.  “I
didn’t know what she meant - the term, I mean, she had to explain.  I don’t
like to think she’s going round saying that about us.”

  I was conscious of a chiffchaff mocking us from a
nearby tree.  John looked along the path.

“There’s a bench there, let’s go sit down.”

We walked to the bench and sat; he took my hand in
his.  He looked sad and serious.

“Perhaps I haven’t been fair to you,” he said
quietly.  “It’s complicated, and I guess I hoped it might not arise - but -”

He told me that he had girlfriends as a teenager,
but nothing felt quite right.  How he had become aware that he had feelings for
men, but was reluctant to accept this, knowing the shock it would cause his
family. 

“My Mom and Pop are the original strait-laced
parents,” he said with a wry smile.  “I sometimes think that they would deal
better with my death than the fact that I’m one of those people who can only be
mentioned under your breath.”

“Oh, John. That’s so sad.” 

I felt really bad for him.

“I’m truly sorry if I’ve duped you into having
stronger feelings for me than I thought you had.  I’ve very much enjoyed your
company, but I guess I’ve also felt you didn’t want to take things any further,
so I thought we were safe.”

“We were - we are - you don’t have to worry about
that.”

Now it was my turn for a little confession.

“Last year - last summer - I got dumped by a boy I
was madly in love with.  You don’t need to know the details, but it’s taking me
a long time to get over it, even to feel anything physical for anyone else. 
Sofia says I’m frigid, and perhaps she’s right.”

John squeezed my hand.

“Oh, sweetie,” he murmured.

“I’ve enjoyed being with you, too.  I hope we don’t
have to stop seeing one another,” I said.

“Absolutely not.  I think it’s great to have the
sort of friendship we have.”

We sat in companiable silence.  It was good to have
things out in the open, but I was also a little regretful.  John was so nice,
so clever, mature and even tempered, so very handsome.  I had been on the verge
of letting my interest in him deepen, and now I would need to draw back.

Term went on, and it was time for the performance of
my play.  We were very fortunate in the weather, and got good notices both from
Cherwell
and the local press.  It was a lot of fun, and I looked forward
to acting again after the summer vacation.

My parents travelled from Beresford to see a
performance, and were delighted that their   daughter was so happily integrated
into university life.  I think they had worried I might hide myself away,
afraid of encountering Nick, and my new self-confidence made them very happy. 
It made me happy, too, although there were times when I realised that the past
still had the power to make me uncomfortable and upset.

The weekend before the end of term, John and I were
invited to a twenty-first lunch party in a private room in Christchurch.  The
other people there were mainly from the college - I suppose there were about
sixteen of us sitting round a large circular table, everyone very smart in
suits and posh frocks.  I thought how much the Eithne of the summer before
would have been surprised to see me holding my own in such company.

I sat between John and William, with Jo on William’s
other side.  Unfortunately, Sofia had also been invited, but I wasn’t afraid of
her when my friends were there to protect me.

We started with champagne, and everyone got merry. 
Paul, whose party it was, made a very droll speech of welcome, and it promised
to be a good “do”.

The first course was some sort of delicious summer
soup, which I had never tasted before.  We drank white wine, and then the main
course of salmon arrived.

The room grew quieter as people tucked in to their
salmon.  Suddenly, Sofia addressed me loudly across the table.

“By the way, Eithne, I met a friend of yours
recently.”

Her voice rose above the hum of casual
conversation. 

“Oh yes?  Who was that?” 

“Sam Simmons - you know, I mentioned him the other
day.”

I still couldn’t place him.

“Sorry, Sofia, I don’t know who he is,” I said.

“Don’t you remember him?  Prefect at St Peter’s in
Beresford, he certainly knew
all
about you....”

 A piece of salmon on my fork wavered on its way to
my mouth.  My heart beat faster, I knew what was coming.

“Just think” - Sofia‘s voice grew more insistent -
“Who would have thought our dear little Eithne would turn out to have been a
very
naughty girl indeed
at school.”

She leered over the table.  “I hear your lover was
the local Romeo, all the other girls and boys were very jealous.”

I felt John glance at my stricken face.  The room
had become very quiet. 

“Shut up, Sofia,” he said quietly.

“Shame he dumped you, darling.  Is that why you
don’t like men - real men, that is?”

There was an awkward silence.  My face felt hot, I
was conscious of ripples of embarrassment round the room.

John rose from his seat.  He walked round the table
to where Sofia was sitting, took her by the elbow and walked her to the door. 
It shut heavily behind them.

I couldn’t say anything.  The other guests picked up
their cutlery, and started to eat again.  Conversations resumed with an
unnatural volume, as if to cover up something distasteful.  I heard Jo say
urgently to William, “Is she all right?”

I wasn’t all right.  My appetite vanished, and after
a moment or two, I got up and quietly left the room.

There was a window seat at the end of the corridor. 
I groped my way to it, and sat down; by now tears were rolling down my cheeks. 
I felt as if I’d been sullied by her insinuations, and I was embarrassed and
uncomfortable.

Then John was sitting next to me.  He put his arms
round me, and I wept onto his shoulder.

“Eithne, darling, don’t, it’s okay, she’s not coming
back.”

He offered me his handkerchief, and I began to mop
myself up a bit.  He kissed my hair. 

“You haven’t done anything wrong, sweetie.  I guess
the only thing people will remember about today is that Sofia is a first class
bitch.”

“It’s just that - she made it sound so cheap and
nasty somehow.  It wasn’t like that,” I said, with a shudder.

“Of course not.”

He held me while I grew calmer. 

“Do I look really terrible?” I asked at length.

“Just pop into the restroom, honey, and dab cold
water on your eyes.”

“You’re missing your salmon,” I muttered.

“It doesn’t matter.”

I escaped to the Ladies. The tears had been stormy,
but brief, and I soon began to look and feel better.  John was still sitting in
the window when I came out.

He got up, and held out his hand.

   “Come on.  I’m still hungry, aren’t you?”

“Oh, John, I can’t go back in there,” I demurred.

“Yes, you can.  In fact, it’s essential that you
do.”

He gave me a bracing look.

“You mustn’t run away from this, Eithne.  It’s time
to stop believing that you’re a victim, time to let everyone know you’re in
control.”

 He opened the door, and ushered me in; there was a
hush as people looked up from their plates and regarded us with a sympathetic
curiosity.  I looked at John, he smiled and I drew a deep breath.

“As Sofia has started this - I did have an affair,
it ended badly, and it’s taken me a long time to get over it,” I said.

 The faces round the table were friendly and
concerned, and I realised that they were on my side.

“But I’m not ashamed of it.  And now it’s ancient
history.”

 I said this with a sudden surge of relief, as I
knew it was true.  “Paul, I hope this hasn’t spoiled your party.”

Paul rose, came swiftly round the table and embraced
me.

“I should think it’s the most exciting twenty-first
anyone’s had for ages!” he exclaimed.  People laughed, and raised their
glasses, and suddenly everything was fine again.

Darling John.  He was such a special person.  Who
knows how different my life might have been if we’d both been treading the same
path?

I was sad to say good bye to John at the end of term. 
He had finished his studies at Oxford, and was returning permanently to
America.

We promised to keep in touch, and he invited me to
visit him and his family in Boston at any time I wanted.

“My mother would adore you - perfect daughter-in-law
material,” he said wistfully.

“You must find a way to talk to them about what you
want, John.  You won’t be able to move on with your life if you don’t,” I said,
mindful of all the advice he had been giving me.  After the incident at the
party, I had told him a lot more about my affair with Nick, and he had been
very supportive.  I would miss his affection and gracious company.

This year, I was spared the annual visit to North
Berwick.  Deidre, my godmother, had arranged for me to spend a month with her,
working as a dogsbody in her company offices and seeing something of life in
London and outside the narrow world of academia.

It was great fun.  We did a lot of girly and
touristy things together, and I think she liked my company.  The office was
dull, but I enjoyed seeing how everything worked in a big firm, and was
delighted to earn some money.  I returned for the beginning of my second year
at Oxford with a hugely replenished wardrobe and a big dollop of self-confidence,
not to mention another great haircut from Sandro.

Back at St Hugh’s, I couldn’t wait to meet up with
my friends again.  Emily had spent a loved-up summer in Yorkshire with Rupert,
and was a trifle down about being so far apart from him now term had begun.  Jo
and William had holidayed in Scotland and Italy, and their relationship seemed
as strong as ever.

I think that Sofia had realised her behaviour at the
party had been unacceptable, and she was cold-shouldered by a lot of our
friends afterwards.  I had hardly seen her since - just caught the occasional
flash of gaudy skirts round the end of a corridor, and heard her mocking laugh
echoing at a distance as she twitted a new victim.  That was the way I wanted
it to stay.

Emily and I were discussing her over breakfast on
our second day back.

“Where do you suppose she met this Sam person?”
Emily asked.  “Did you really not recognise the name?”

“Once she mentioned him in connection with St
Peter’s, I realised who he was - some horrid, spotty little prefect, he wasn’t
in with the cool gang, like Nick.”

I stirred my coffee, trying to recall him.

“I wouldn’t have thought he was a gossip, but Sofia
pumped me once about where I grew up, so she must have been digging for dirt. 
Anyway, it’s in the past now.”

“Yes.  I do hope you find someone special this term,
Eithne.”

The first week back, I met a boy with whom I had
acted in the Worcester melodrama.  He told me that a friend of his, Ben Meredith,
was directing a modern day pantomime to be produced at the end of term, and he
was looking to cast two girls in the leading roles.

“Why don’t you audition for it, Eithne?” he
suggested.  “Ben is such a talented guy, I’m sure he’ll go on to work in the
professional theatre.  Even if you don’t get one of those roles, there are some
other terrific parts, and it will be lots of fun along the way - remember all
the laughs we had in the summer?”

I decided I would go to the auditions.  I was
missing the gentle companionship John had provided, and felt the need for
something else in my life.

I did not get cast as one of the lead female roles -
I think I always knew that I was unlikely to be a good enough actress for that,
but was delighted to be offered a supporting part of a sassy and scheming PA,
with some very funny scenes, and I accepted with alacrity. 

It was only after I had accepted, that I realised
the production was to be staged under the auspices of Balliol and not
Worcester.  This made me pause for a minute - Nick was a student at Balliol -
but I decided that he was unlikely to be interested in drama, and in any case,
I could not go on worrying about meeting him for ever.  In some ways, I rather
wished it would happen, so I could get it over with.

Ben Meredith, the director, sent me a note via the
college messenger, asking me to a drinks party in Balliol on Sunday morning,
for cast and the backstage team to meet up for the first time.

“Make sure you’re looking as stunning as possible
then,” advised Jo, when I mentioned it.  “Just in case you-know-who happens to
be lurking about.”

I was quite sure that Nick was not the sort of
person who would lurk anywhere, however, it was with a slight feeling of
trepidation that I made my way into the college on the Sunday, and asked the
porter for directions to the room where we were meeting.  Like most of the
men’s colleges, Balliol was old and imposing.  There was a sense of history in
the green turfed quadrangles and mellow stonework, centuries of young men studying
and socialising before making their way in the world.  I sometimes felt jealous
of the established feeling this continuity imparted to the male undergraduates
- being so much newer, the women’s colleges lacked this depth of character.

The room was buzzing with chatter, glowing with
sunlight streaking the walls through mullioned windows.

Ben greeted me and handed me a glass of wine.  He
was tall and red headed, with a wicked sense of humour, and I thought I would
like to know him better.

“Good to see you Eithne, now let’s think, who
haven’t you met?”  he enquired.

But at that moment, a slim, dark figure detached
itself from another group, and hurried across the room towards us.

“Eithne… how wonderful to see you!”

“Oh good, you two know each other already then,” Ben
said.  “Look after her for a minute, Nick, I must just speak to Suzy.”

I really hadn’t expected to see him there.  In fact,
at first, I did not recognise him - his hair had grown very long, and a moustache
drooped over that curving upper lip.  I didn’t like it, it got in the way of
his beautiful smile, and made his handsome face seem older and harder.

Nick flashed a demi - grin at me.  I think for once
he was not quite sure of his reception.

“You look fantastic,” he said with enthusiasm.

I was wearing one of my London outfits, and my newly
washed hair curled on my shoulders.  I knew I looked pretty.  For once I looked
better than he did.

“Thanks,” I said curtly.

He was gazing intently at me from top to toe, as if
remembering something that had once been cherished. 

“You’re all grown up now - but I do miss that funny
little Eithne.”

His dark eyes grew softer as he spoke.  He put out a
hand, and twined a tendril of my hair around his finger, and I shied away like
a frightened horse.

“Funny little Eithne is dead, Nick.  You killed her,
the summer before last,” I said sharply.  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten.”

The venom in my tone clearly took him aback.  For a
long moment, we stared at each other, me, hostile, him, surprised and possibly
a little alarmed.  I waited for him to break the silence.

“I’m not particularly proud of the way I behaved
towards you, Eithne.”

Nick actually looked abashed.  “But I’ve wanted to
see you so often, to try to explain ...”

He broke off, and put a hand on my arm.  I removed
it.

    “Well I think you’ve known for at least a year
where you could find me, so it couldn’t have been that pressing a desire,” I
said.  “But I forgot - you don’t venture north of St Giles’ and up the Banbury
Road, do you?”

I was beginning to enjoy myself a little.  For the
first time ever, I sensed I had the upper hand.  

 I sipped at my wine, and gazed out of the window. 
Nick seemed stunned by my frosty reaction.

“Look, I can understand if you’re annoyed with me...”
he began urgently, but I turned on him with savage precision.

“Annoyed!  Nick!  You dumped me without a word of
explanation.”

I remembered all the days and nights of weeping and
misery.

“
You broke my heart!”
I hissed. “You’re a
complete bastard.  So believe me when I say I want nothing more to do with you. 
I’m a different person.  I didn’t know you were involved with this play, but I
still intend to be a part of it, so I suggest we ignore each other as best we
can - starting from now.”

I turned on my heel, and walked away.

“And you look appalling with that silly moustache,”
I threw over my shoulder.

Perhaps it was a cheap shot, but it felt really good
to see him flinch.  I didn’t much care if anyone heard me, either.

Ben called to me from the other
side of the room, and I shook off my spat with Nick and concentrated on getting
to know the other undergraduates I would be rehearsing with over the next
weeks.  They seemed a lively and somewhat more sophisticated crowd than the
Worcester bunch, and I could tell it would be fun working together.

Nick had kept himself to the fringes of the room
since our altercation.  I could feel his dark gaze linger on me from time to
time, but he made no attempt to converse with me again. 

Part of me felt very sad.  I didn’t want the memory
of the good times we had shared to be swamped by the fallout of our parting,
but I could see how impossible it would be to behave as though nothing had
happened between us.  I still looked forward to being in the play, but things
would be more complicated with Nick about as well. 

To round off the morning, Ben invited me to join
him, Suzy and Eleanor, the two leading actresses, for lunch.

“I like to be seen in the company of beautiful
women.  I have a reputation to maintain,” he explained as we walked with linked
arms down Broad Street to the King’s Arms pub.  I thought that I would be more
than willing to help him maintain it.

Jo and Emily were agog to hear all the details when
I returned.

“And it didn’t upset you at all?  You
have
moved on,” exclaimed Emily, pleased on my behalf.

“I did feel a bit of a pang, he looked stunned when
I laid into him,” I admitted.  “He’s been so used to dictating terms to me. 
But also - he looked terrible.  In some ways I couldn’t believe it was the same
person.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” said wise Jo.