days ago, mumbling something about office politics, he suggested they shouldn’t have sex at work anymore, in case someone should see them. So now they stick to his flat. Greer would like to take him to the house. But she has a funny feeling that it wouldn’t welcome him, so she hasn’t asked.
“Adam’s Rib is on at the Picturehouse.” Greer glances up at him. “We’re both off, I thought we could go together.”
“Sorry, Red.” Blake starts to sit up, dislodging Greer from her crook. “Not tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay.” She tries to sound nonchalant, though it isn’t proving as easy anymore. She’s finding it harder to feign confidence or contentment or whatever emotion she chooses, which is proving a little disconcerting. Excepting her mother, Greer has always been able to fool anyone and fake anything she wishes. But now she’s losing her touch—just when she needs it more than ever. Greer can feel Blake starting to pull away, to withdraw little by little into a place she soon won’t be able to reach him. And she knows that trying to chase him now will only push him further away. A slight sigh escapes her lips and, quickly, she swallows it. “I’ll ask Carmen, then,” Greer says lightly. “She might fancy it. Or someone else, it doesn’t matter.”
Blake doesn’t react to Carmen’s name. Not a flicker of guilt, surprise or even interest. Instead he smiles. “Okay, sweetheart,” he says, his voice as sweet as sugar. He runs his hand through her hair. “Sounds like a grand idea.” And though his tone is still kind and his actions still thoughtful, Greer knows deep in her gut, even though she desperately wants to deny it, that something significant has changed, that while there may once have been hope of his loving her, there is no hope anymore.
Chapter Twelve
Alba hates traveling. She hates staying in hotels, hates having to speak to strangers, hates not knowing where she is, hates being unable to find edible vegetarian food or a decent library. She’s never wanted to go to exotic places and is more interested in historical times and fictional worlds than those she could actually visit.
After failing to find her father in the virtual world, and still a little too nervous to interrogate Edward or hire a detective, Alba finally decided to try to find him in the physical one. The sighting of Dr. Skinner last week also made the idea of leaving the country rather more appealing.
Sitting on a sleeper train bound for Fort William, Alba bites her nails, trying to distract herself with books. She’s already read A Room with a View and they’re barely out of London. The scene of the bumbled kiss made Alba wonder if her own first kiss would be as unromantic. Considering her complete lack of experience and self-confidence, she imagines it might be. Although it also depends, she supposes, on the other party. Perhaps she’ll find someone like George Emerson, full of passion and fervor. But in all honesty, Alba doesn’t care how it happens, as long as it does. She’s beginning to worry that she’ll die a virgin, untouched, unloved and unkissed.
By the time the train passes through Yorkshire, Alba has read Howards End, A Passage to India and Maurice. And although A Room with a View is still her favorite, it’s Maurice that makes her cry. She nearly misses the connection to Mallaig, pulling her book-filled bag behind her and falling through the train doors just in time. On this leg of the trip, Alba just gazes out of the window, running lines of her parents’ letters through her mind. Somewhere in Scotland she falls asleep and dreams again of her mother. This time they sit together in the gardens of Ashby Hall.
“Are you finally happy now?” Alba plucks at a piece of grass. “You always seem to be nowadays.”
“I am.” Elizabeth smiles. “I truly am. What about you, my darling girl?”
“I’m fine.” Alba smiles. “And every time I see you I’m better than I was before.”
Lady Ashby strokes her daughter’s cheek. “That’s sweet, my love. But I hope you’ll find happiness with someone you don’t have to fall asleep to see.” She laughs. “It’s all I want for you, to be happy. Nothing else matters, only that.”
Alba reaches for her mother’s hand and is still holding it when the train jolts to a stop and she wakes up. As she queues for the boat trip across Loch Nevis, Alba is shivering so hard she almost can’t pay