Almighty, why did he always have to do everything himself?.
Rowena sat in her study sipping a cup of weak tea and watching the fire crackle in the grate. She was comfortable and warm in her thick soft towelling bathrobe, her half-dry blonde hair hanging fresh and glowing around her shoulders. The summer rain drummed against the dark skylight; through the streaming glass she could see the
slippery, melting lights of the stars.
She was far too excited to sleep.
She glanced at the faded article on David Geffen, pinned over the bed. When she was President, she’d be able to invite him over to speak … She was still fantasizing about what she’d say when they were introduced when the doorbell rahg.
‘Let yourself in, sweetheart,’ she called to Topaz.
‘That was a warmer welcome than I expected,’ Peter Kennedy said, ducking his head as he stepped into the room.
Rowena shot out of her chair, belting her robe even tighter around her. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘You asked me in, I believe,’ said Peter calmly, shutting the door behind him and offering her a cigarette. She declined; he shrugged and lit up. ‘It was a good speech, if I may say so. Very gutsy of you to carry on.’
‘Thank you,’ said Rowena, relaxing slightly. She couldn’t help it, she was glad to see him. Peter hadn’t come round since that kiss at the Union Ball a week ago. Who don’t I trust? Rowena asked herself. Him, or me?
‘It was that or give up on the’ whole thing, and nothing would persuade me to do that. I’ve got a duty to the other guys on the slate, anyway.’
He took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘Nothing could persuade you to drop out?’
‘Nothing,’ said Rowena, wary again. There were only two reasons, in this university, for someone like Kennedy to be in her rooms at this hour: sex or politics. And he was still dating her best friend, so it couldn’t be the former. ‘Tell
46
me what I can do for you, Peter.’
‘I want you to withdraw from the election.’
Rowena leant back, and took another sip of her tea. She was surprised, but not shocked; she’d seen too much of this stuff, treachery, indecision, switching sides, on her way up the ladder, to be taken aback now. Plenty of it had been last-minute, too. She wondered for a second if Topaz had known, and then dismissed that idea: Topaz was her closest friend. This was a blow, when it looked as if she had everything wrapped up, but it wasn’t all that serious. She doubted even Peter Kennedy could save Gilbert now, not after this evening’s triumph.
‘I have no intention of doing any such thing, I’m afraid,’ she said coolly. ‘I rather thought you were supporting me, Peter.’
‘Then you thought wrong,’ Kennedy said with equal coldness.
‘Does Topaz know you’re here?’ Rowena asked. Her heart was hammering now. Why had Peter come? Why had he switched sides again? Because she’d turned him down?
She looked at the handsome face, the muscular body, the golden hair soaked from the rain. She didn’t want him to be angry with her. She wanted him to like her.
‘I can’t go back on my word to Gilbert,’ Peter said, furiously. ‘Why can’t you see that? Why are you making me feel like this?’
‘You gave your word to me, too,’ Rowena answered. He looked so angry and guilty and mixed-up. She knew he was battling with himself to sort out his motives, do the right thing. She was stupidly pleased by it, that the way he felt about her had confused him. A small ache of lust began to gather inside her.
‘I know,’ Kennedy said. The sapphire eyes stared directly at her. ‘I should never have said it. I couldn’t help myself.’
For the second time that evening Rowena felt time slow down around her. For a few seconds she didn’t reply, and they listened to the fire crackling in the grate and the gathering storm outside, the wind moaning across the”
47
Elizabethan gables of the house.
Finally she asked, ‘What do
Rowena sat in her study sipping a cup of weak tea and watching the fire crackle in the grate. She was comfortable and warm in her thick soft towelling bathrobe, her half-dry blonde hair hanging fresh and glowing around her shoulders. The summer rain drummed against the dark skylight; through the streaming glass she could see the
slippery, melting lights of the stars.
She was far too excited to sleep.
She glanced at the faded article on David Geffen, pinned over the bed. When she was President, she’d be able to invite him over to speak … She was still fantasizing about what she’d say when they were introduced when the doorbell rahg.
‘Let yourself in, sweetheart,’ she called to Topaz.
‘That was a warmer welcome than I expected,’ Peter Kennedy said, ducking his head as he stepped into the room.
Rowena shot out of her chair, belting her robe even tighter around her. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘You asked me in, I believe,’ said Peter calmly, shutting the door behind him and offering her a cigarette. She declined; he shrugged and lit up. ‘It was a good speech, if I may say so. Very gutsy of you to carry on.’
‘Thank you,’ said Rowena, relaxing slightly. She couldn’t help it, she was glad to see him. Peter hadn’t come round since that kiss at the Union Ball a week ago. Who don’t I trust? Rowena asked herself. Him, or me?
‘It was that or give up on the’ whole thing, and nothing would persuade me to do that. I’ve got a duty to the other guys on the slate, anyway.’
He took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘Nothing could persuade you to drop out?’
‘Nothing,’ said Rowena, wary again. There were only two reasons, in this university, for someone like Kennedy to be in her rooms at this hour: sex or politics. And he was still dating her best friend, so it couldn’t be the former. ‘Tell
46
me what I can do for you, Peter.’
‘I want you to withdraw from the election.’
Rowena leant back, and took another sip of her tea. She was surprised, but not shocked; she’d seen too much of this stuff, treachery, indecision, switching sides, on her way up the ladder, to be taken aback now. Plenty of it had been last-minute, too. She wondered for a second if Topaz had known, and then dismissed that idea: Topaz was her closest friend. This was a blow, when it looked as if she had everything wrapped up, but it wasn’t all that serious. She doubted even Peter Kennedy could save Gilbert now, not after this evening’s triumph.
‘I have no intention of doing any such thing, I’m afraid,’ she said coolly. ‘I rather thought you were supporting me, Peter.’
‘Then you thought wrong,’ Kennedy said with equal coldness.
‘Does Topaz know you’re here?’ Rowena asked. Her heart was hammering now. Why had Peter come? Why had he switched sides again? Because she’d turned him down?
She looked at the handsome face, the muscular body, the golden hair soaked from the rain. She didn’t want him to be angry with her. She wanted him to like her.
‘I can’t go back on my word to Gilbert,’ Peter said, furiously. ‘Why can’t you see that? Why are you making me feel like this?’
‘You gave your word to me, too,’ Rowena answered. He looked so angry and guilty and mixed-up. She knew he was battling with himself to sort out his motives, do the right thing. She was stupidly pleased by it, that the way he felt about her had confused him. A small ache of lust began to gather inside her.
‘I know,’ Kennedy said. The sapphire eyes stared directly at her. ‘I should never have said it. I couldn’t help myself.’
For the second time that evening Rowena felt time slow down around her. For a few seconds she didn’t reply, and they listened to the fire crackling in the grate and the gathering storm outside, the wind moaning across the”
47
Elizabethan gables of the house.
Finally she asked, ‘What do
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