Page 60 of The Christmas Invitation
Then he went back to concentrating on carefully pouring slip into a cast, tapping it to release any air bubbles and setting it aside. Only then did he look at me directly and his expression wasn’t any friendlier than it had been the last time I saw him.
He was tall – though not as tall as Lex – loose-limbed and with nondescript brown hair and hard grey eyes.
‘Long time, no see, Al,’ I said.
‘When Lex told me you were staying up at the Red House I thought you’d at least keep clear of the pottery,’ he said.
‘Al, let’s not go there,’ Lex said wearily. ‘Let it go: Meg’s leaving in a few days, when she’s finished the portraits, and it was Henry who insisted on stopping here today so she could have a quick look round.’
‘The quicker the better,’ Al said. Time did not seem to have taken the edge off his anger. I’d always suspected he was more than half in love with Lisa himself, which might have had something to do with it.
I was starting to feel angry all over again when a thin, red-haired girl came in, a dimmed and fuzzy version of Lisa, who must be Tara. It was evident from her expression as she looked at me that she knew about the past – or at least, the parallel reality version.
‘So you’re this Meg Harkness! Al’s just told me all about you.’
‘So you’re Lisa’s little sister,’ I said, returning her inimical stare.
‘Al, you really shouldn’t have told—’ began Lex angrily, but broke off as Henry suddenly appeared in the doorway behind Tara.
‘Oh, there you all are! Meg, my dear, we’d better leave now, or we’ll be late. You can come back again another time because I’m sure you’re finding it all fascinating.’
‘I’m as riveted as a nest of snakes by a mongoose,’ I said, following him out, but I don’t think he heard me.
Lex caught me up by the door and grabbed my arm, pulling me back. ‘Meg, I hadn’t realized Al had told Tara about that night. I’m sorry they—’
‘Oh, get potted!’ I snapped, and then, wrenching myself free, stepped through the Judas door into the darkening afternoon.
It’s hard to brood – or even seethe – in the company of an over-excited eight-year-old, or among a lively group of people over tea, when they very naturally want to discuss their day.
When I finally slipped away, Teddy followed me into the studio, where he finished the picture he’d started of me with green hair. Luckily he’d painted the hair while it was still greener than its present ever-fainter tint. I, in turn, sketched him.
Dinner, and the ebb and flow of conversation over it, soothed the tensions away a little more, but anger was still bubbling somewhere beneath, like molten lava, and if I was ever alone again with Lex, Al and Tara, I was sure it would erupt dramatically and I’d put them all right in no uncertain terms.
Not that I thought they’d believe me, but the truth should out, I could see that now.
Tomorrow I’d start Henry’s portrait. I knew I could complete enough of it to leave after the Solstice with River, but now, not only did Inotwant to, I’d become convinced that fleeing would seem like an admission of guilt and an act of cowardice.
Clara
The joy of our reunion in that first Michaelmas term was only slightly marred by an early visit from Henry’s older brother, George, who was now an army officer and based somewhere within reach of Oxford.
Henry brought him to tea in my rooms, where we were permitted to entertain our male friends during the afternoons, because obviously nothing of an intimate nature could possibly take place until after the danger hour of seven in the evening.
George was now large, handsome, in a ruddy-faced, bold kind of way, and had the same cornflower-blue eyes and fair hair as Henry. He looked bored even while politely expressing pleasure at meeting me again.
Nessa must have caught sight of the arrival of this manly embodiment of her wildest romantic fantasies, for not five minutes later she intruded under some pretext. Of course, she and George immediately hit it off and began a heavily flirtatious conversation, so that there was no getting rid of her. Indeed, we became a foursome for the rest of his leave, and very tiresome it was, too.
I was glad to see the back of him, but Nessa was full of gushing enthusiasm, having cast George as the perfect, gentle knight of the legends and poems she so adored.
I warned her not to lose her heart to him because Henry had told me he’d had several affairs, despite having a fiancée of long standing.
Nessa assured me I was quite wrong about his character and that George had already told her about the engagement. ‘It’s just a family thing that he’s trying to end without hurting this girl’s feelings.’
This seemed unlikely, for Henry had also said that George’s fiancée’s main attraction was that she was an only child with wealthy, doting parents and he hoped that once they were married he could sell out of the army and embark on a life of idle pleasure, which seemed to be his only ambition.
I suspected that Nessa ignored my advice and was in contact with George, and perhaps had even met him since that first introduction … but if so, I hoped the attraction would quickly fizzle out.
‘Though by now he probably knows she’s an heiress, because she tells everyone. She even told you,’ I said to Henry.
