Octavia

‘I’m trying to get my head sorted out,’ I said, frantically, wiping gin away with my sleeve. ‘So I started going to a shrink.’

‘Jesus, you don’t need a shrink.’

‘H-he thinks I do. He pounced on me today.’

I started to tremble again. For a moment Gareth’s hand tightened on my arm, then he said,

‘The bastard. Report him to the medical council.’

‘I don’t think you can report shrinks, but it was a shock. I sort of trusted him.’

‘You give me his name and address, and I’ll get him kicked out,’ said Gareth. He was really angry. God, he was being so nice, any minute I’d start crying again. I took a bite of my lemon peel.

‘Lorna rang me this afternoon,’ I said. ‘She was in the country.’

Suddenly he looked evasive and shifty. He got out a packet of cigarettes, and when I refused one, lit one for himself.

‘She said she had something special to tell me,’ I went on, ‘but she wouldn’t tell me over the telephone in case it upset me.’

Gareth shook his ice round in his glass.

‘Do you want another drink?’

I shook my head, the lump was getting bigger and bigger in my throat.

‘She sounded over the moon, like Xander,’ I continued. ‘I guess she was trying to tell me she was getting married.’

‘Yep,’ said Gareth. ‘That’s about it.’

‘Soon?’ I said.

‘Pretty soon. Lorna’s one of those girls who wants to keep her virginity for marriage. She’s worried she can’t hold out much longer.’

‘Bully for her,’ I whispered.

‘She feels terribly guilty,’ he went on. ‘She’s worried stiff about upsetting you, and she knows Hesketh and Bridget are going to say she’s too young.’

‘You can’t win them all,’ I said in a choked voice.

‘Look Octavia, you’re a beautiful, beautiful girl. There are plenty of other guys in the sea, and masses on land for that matter.’

‘Sure,’ I said numbly, the tears beginning to course down my cheeks.

He took my hand; it was all I could do not to fling myself into his arms.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he went on. ‘Look I’ve got nothing to do tonight. I’ll buy you dinner and we can talk about it.’

‘No you won’t. It’s very kind, but no thank you,’ I said, wiping away the tears with the back of my hand. ‘I’ve already got a date,’ and breaking away, I slid off the bar stool and fled out of the bar.

‘Octavia, wait,’ I heard his voice calling after me. Then I plunged down into the Underground.

Chapter Eighteen

When I got back to Putney, Monkey threw himself on me, yelping with ecstasy, taking my hand in his mouth, and leading me up the path. I found Mrs Lonsdale-Taylor grumbling about the heat and the greenfly and pouring boiling water on a plague of ants who were threatening to enter the house. The dustmen were on strike and hadn’t collected for two weeks; the stench of Jeyes fluid in the dustbins was almost worse than yesterday’s smell of rotting food and vegetation.

Mrs Lonsdale-Taylor straightened up, scarlet in the face.

‘There’s a young man waiting for you upstairs,’ she said with a sniff, ‘he says he’s your brother.’

I bounded upstairs, I couldn’t wait to tell someone how miserable I was. Xander loved Gareth too; he would understand how suicidal I felt. I found him in my bedroom, his face had a luminous sickly tinge, as though he was standing under a green umbrella. A muscle was going in his cheek. The ashtray beside him on the table was piled high with half-smoked cigarettes.

‘Thank God you’ve come,’ he said. ‘I’m in dead trouble.’

His light brown hair, almost black from sweat, had fallen in a fringe over his forehead, emphasizing the brilliant grey eyes. He looked absurdly young. I ran across the room and put my arms round him.

‘What’s happened? Tell me. It’s not the baby?’

He shook his head.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I haven’t got anything to drink. Tell me what’s the matter.’

‘I’ve got to get ?2,000 by tomorrow.’

‘God, whatever for?’

‘I’m being blackmailed.’

‘Then you must go to the police at once.’

‘I can’t,’ he said with a groan. He was near to tears. I realized I was the one who had to stay as calm and cool as a statue.

‘You must go to the police; they’ll keep your name out of it. What on earth have you done? It can’t be that bad.’

The door suddenly opened, making us both jump, but it was only Monkey. He trotted over and curled up at Xander’s feet. I kicked the door shut.

‘Who is it?’ I asked.

‘It’s Guido,’ said Xander in a dead voice.

‘Guido?’

‘The Italian boy, the good-looking one you met that day we had lunch at Freddy’s, before you went on the boat with Gareth and Jeremy.’

‘Oh yes, I remember,’ I said.

‘That weekend you were away I refused to go and stay with Ricky and Joan.’

‘Yes.’

‘I went down to Devon with Guido — to a gay hotel.’

Oh God!

‘Well one of his mates turned up, another pretty boy, also Italian, and we all got stoned of course, and started taking Polaroid photographs in the bedroom. Some of them went pretty far. Now Guido and his pal want a couple of grand for a start, and if I don’t cough up tomorrow, they’re going to send the photos to Pammie and Ricky.’

I thought for a minute. The scent of tobacco plants was almost sickening outside. I could hear the outside tap water plummeting into Mrs L-T’s watering can.

‘Don’t you think Pammie twigged long ago?’ I said. ‘She’s not stupid.’

‘She can’t admit it, even to herself.’

‘Wouldn’t it be better to tell her?’

Xander’s voice broke. ‘Not when she’s pregnant. She was so happy about the baby, and suddenly everything’s going so well at work, and we’re getting on so much better at the moment.’

There was no point in reminding him he’d only been back from the Middle East twenty-four hours.

‘Ricky’ll throw me out, and so will Pamela, and I know it sounds wet, but I really want that baby. You’ve got lots of rich friends.’

‘What about Gareth?’ I said. ‘He’ll help you.’

‘I’m getting on so well with him too,’ said Xander fretfully.

‘If you give in to Guido this time, he’ll only be back for more bread in a week or two.’

‘If I get a breathing space,’ said Xander, ‘I can think of a way to hammer him, I just need time. Oh for God’s