Scandalous (7 page)

At last, one Saturday in late November, Will made it up to Cambridge. Sasha met him at the station, wrapped up in so many layers of sweaters and scarves he almost didn’t recognize her.

“Christ on a bike, it’s cold up here.” He shivered, hugging her tightly on the platform. “This
wind
. It’s like bloody Siberia.” Dressed in his favorite Diesel jeans and Tonbridge rugby shirt under a cool leather bomber jacket, he looked even more handsome than Sasha remembered him. He smelled of Givenchy aftershave and mouthwash, and his arms felt so strong and wonderful around her.
What an idiot I’ve been
, thought Sasha.
He’s perfect. Everything’s going to be fine.

In the taxi, he reached under Sasha’s duffel coat and put a cold hand on her thigh.

“I can’t wait to unwrap you, my darling. Have you missed me?”

“Of course I have,” said Sasha, adding guiltily, “there’s been so much to do here, that’s all, work and finding my way around and stuff. I can’t wait to show you St. Michael’s. Isn’t Cambridge beautiful?”

They were driving down Trumpington Street, in the heart of the old university district, but Will wasn’t interested in sightseeing.

“Mmmm,” he yawned. “You’re not on your period, are you?”

Sasha blushed. “No!”

“Good.” Will’s hand crept higher. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but this is the longest time I’ve gone without sex since I was, like, twelve. The only part of St. Michael’s I’m interested in is your bedroom.”

Don’t be annoyed
, Sasha told herself.
He’s trying to pay you a compliment. You should be grateful he’s stayed faithful. There’ll be plenty of time to show him around tomorrow.

At Will’s request, they spent the afternoon squeezed into Sasha’s tiny single bed. Sex felt awkward at first. Sasha had forgotten how perfect Will’s body was, taut and athletic and muscular, like a Michelangelo sculpture. She’d also forgotten how fit he was. As much as she fancied him, after the third round of shagging she was starting to feel not just bored but exhausted. And sore. Will’s idea of foreplay was to kiss each boob once before launching himself into her like an Exocet.

“Are you hungry, darling?” she asked tentatively as he came loudly for a third time before rolling off her, spent. If rugby was Will’s favorite thing in the world and sex his second favorite, Sasha had learned early that food ran a close third. “I thought we might wander down to the Pickerel. It’s a really lovely old pub. They do a good lasagna, and you could meet some of my friends.”

“Sure.” Will bounded out of bed like a Labrador. Lasagna sounded wicked. Sasha’s nerdy science geek mates would be less wicked, but he could put up with them for an hour or two if he had to. “We’ll regain our strength before tonight!”

He grinned.

Good heavens
, thought Sasha.
At this rate I’ll be in a wheelchair by the end of the weekend.

Half an hour later Sasha walked into the pub with Will and was immediately dragged to the bathroom by Georgia.

“Oh. My.
God. That’s
Will? That boy-band hottie with the Justin Timberlake ass?”

Sasha laughed. “I told you he was attractive.”

“
Attractive?
He’s Brad bloody Pitt, Sash. If I had a bloke like that at home I’d have told St. Michael’s to stick their offer. How could you bear to leave him?”

Half an hour later, Georgia was beginning to understand how Sasha could have borne it. Will Temple was one of the most handsome boys she’d ever seen. He was also vain, self-centered, and a complete cretin.

“I’ve never seen the point of university myself, to be honest. Obviously I’m pleased for Sasha. But I’m more interested in the real world. The UOL.”

“I’m sorry?” Georgia smiled politely.

“University of Life. I’m all about experiences, you know. Travel, other cultures.”

“I see. And have you traveled much?”

“Oh God yeah. I’ve been to France, loads of times. And I’ve been on rugby tours all over. Australia, Samoa, New Zealand…”

“Three hotbeds of culture…” Georgia muttered under her breath, but Will wasn’t listening. Will never listened.

“Sport’s the one true international language,” he went on. “It can totally bring people together. But you know what I’m talking about. You must be a sportswoman, right? You don’t get
that
kind of body stuck in a library all day sitting on your ass, that’s for sure.”

Georgia winced.
How can Sasha stand this guy? He’s been shamelessly flirting with me all evening right in front of her. And he’s totally ignored the rest of our group, Lisa and Josie and all the boys. All he cares about is impressing women. Well he certainly doesn’t impress me.

“Josie’s been to New Zealand.” Georgia changed the subject.

“Have you?” asked Sasha.

“Last year. For a biology field trip. It was incredible.” The chubby, chipmunk-faced redhead began to talk about the rain forests. Will feigned interest for about twenty seconds, then yawned pointedly and turned to Sasha.

“I’m really knackered, babe. Let’s go back to yours.”

Sasha looked at her watch. “But it’s only nine o’clock, Will. It’s a bit early to go to bed, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry. We won’t be going to sleep.” He winked at Georgia.

Prick.

“I’ll have a quick piss and we can make a move. Nice meeting you all.” Getting to his feet, Will made his way to the men’s room.

“Sorry,” said Sasha. She was clearly embarrassed. “He doesn’t mean to be rude. It’s just we haven’t seen each other for ages.”

No one said anything. In the end Danny, a wry engineer from Glasgow, said gently, “You know, Sasha, it’s none o’ my business. But I would n’ae say the two of you have an awful lot in common.”

“We do,” Sasha shot back automatically. “Honestly. At home we do. I think he feels a bit out of place here, that’s all. He’ll get used to it.”

I hope not
, thought Georgia. The thought of Will Temple becoming a regular feature of their weekends was enough to make her bring up her lasagna.

On the walk back to college, it started to snow. Thick, soft flakes drifted down onto the cobbles, their progress illuminated by the warm, orange glow of the streetlamps. In front of them, King’s College Chapel rose out of the darkness like a fairy-tale castle. Sasha snuggled tighter into Will’s body.

“You can see why I love it here, can’t you?”

“Sure.”

Not a flicker of interest. Sasha tried again.

“I mean, there’s a magic to it. Something in the air. Do you know what I mean?”

“The air?” said Will absently. “The air’s arctic. How far are we from your college? My nuts are about to drop off.”

For the first time all day, Will noticed that Sasha was upset. She’d pulled away and started walking faster up ahead of him.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s you.
You’re
the matter.” She turned around. Snowflakes began to settle on her shoulders. “You were really rude to my friends back there.”

“Oh, come on, Sash. They weren’t exactly the most exciting bunch. Apart from the blonde.” He smiled knowingly.

“They’re my
friends
, Will. Do you know how bored I am with
your
friends? But at least I make an effort.”

Now it was Will’s turn to get angry. “An effort? Don’t talk to me about making an effort. At least I came up here to see you, which is more than you’ve been bothered to do all autumn.”

“Well, why
did
you come? You don’t want to see me. All you want to do is have sex!”

“So? What’s wrong with sex? Jesus, Sasha. If you want to go out with a fucking intellectual why don’t you go and marry Stephen bloody Hawking? It’s not me that’s changed. It’s you.”

That night they lay together in stony silence. Will fell asleep after about an hour, but Sasha lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through her conflicting feelings.
Is he right? Have I changed?
She couldn’t bear the thought that she’d abandoned him. They’d been so happy last summer, in the woods at Tidebrook. Was this how Professor Dexter felt, lying in bed next to his mean, bipolar wife? A stranger in his own life?

The next morning they patched things up, on the surface anyway. Will’s train was at two, so they spent the morning walking along the snowy trails and had a good-bye lunch at Wagamama.

“How are your noodles?”

“Fine, thanks. Would you like another Coke?”

“Oh, I’m OK. Thanks.”

The politeness was awful.

By three o’clock, Sasha was back at St. Michael’s. It was properly winter now, and the sky was already beginning to fade to a bluish twilight that made the snow-covered college look
like a Christmas card. But Sasha couldn’t enjoy it. She’d blown things with Will. It was over. In a few weeks she’d be home in Sussex for the holidays, and he’d be out with some other girl.
Carolina Fuller probably. She’s been after him for months. Slut.
Would Sasha regret it once she got home? Here at Cambridge, her life in Sussex felt like a dream. But what if it was the other way around? What if home and Will were her reality and her undergraduate life was just a passing phase? What if she never found love again?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Theo, looking ruggedly gorgeous in a blue cable-knit sweater and jeans, emerged from his rooms on First Court.

“It can’t be that bad, surely?”

Sasha shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s bad or not. I think I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

With immense difficulty, Theo suppressed a grin.

“Poor Sasha. That’s hard. Breakups are always hard.”

Sasha smiled.
He’s so nice. Maybe it’s because he’s younger than other professors? He can still remember what it’s like to be our age.
“How come you’re in college on a Sunday, Professor Dexter? Isn’t it your day off?”

“Sasha, if I have to tell you again I’m going to throttle you. It’s Theo, OK? You’re not in sixth form now.”

“OK.” Sasha giggled. “Sorry.”

“And yes, it is my day off, but to be perfectly honest with you I couldn’t face the silence at home.” His handsome brow furrowed. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said stoically. “What about you? Where are you off to?”

“The library,” said Sasha. “Thank God for research, eh? You can really lose yourself. There’s nothing like astrophysical plasmas to take one’s mind off things, don’t you find?”

Theo laughed aloud. She was so earnest.

“I tell you what. I’ve got a better idea. How about we cheer each other up? Have you ever seen the St. Michael’s wine cellars?”

“Of course not.” St. Michael’s College was renowned for having one of the best stocked, most valuable wine cellars not just in Cambridge but in all of Europe. For obvious reasons, undergraduates were not allowed access to them. Only a very small number of fellows had keys, and even they had to sign in to a logbook and follow certain time-honored security procedures.

“Would you like to?”

Sasha nodded eagerly. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but her dad was a keen amateur wine buff. If she passed up this chance he’d never forgive her.

“Good. Follow me.”

Theo led her over the bridge into Second Court. Pulling out a cluster of keys, he unlocked the heavy oak door to St. Michael’s Formal Hall and pushed it open. Sasha had eaten in Hall a few times. Like Theo she loved the formality and tradition of it, getting dressed up in her gown and all that. But she’d never seen the place empty. Being here now, alone, she felt like Beauty exploring the Beast’s enchanted castle. It was illicit and exciting.

“This way.”

She followed Theo up the steps to the high table, where the master and all the senior fellows sat. Sasha couldn’t resist running her fingers along the polished mahogany table as they walked its length, eventually coming to some steps that led down to a red velvet curtain. Behind the curtain was another door.

“It’s like Oz!” Sasha laughed.

“Isn’t it?” Theo unlocked the second door. A smell of damp stone, musty and ancient, hit Sasha in the face like a punch. Behind the door everything was dark. Theo fumbled for the light switch and a dim thirty-watt bulb flickered to life, revealing a winding stone staircase. “Either that or Scooby Doo. When I first came down here I confidently expected a mummy to leap out of one of the alcoves and start chasing me.”