who the poet is?’
‘John Donne,’ said Vi, longing for a complexion that did not ensure that every private emotion went on vivid display. ‘But I already knew it.’
‘Don’t apologise for knowing Donne,’ Edwin had said.
When the class was over, he caught her at the door. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Honour St John. But I use my second name.’
‘Which is?’ he looked less like a bird of prey when he smiled.
‘Violet. My friends call me Vi.’
‘Violet suits you.’ Vi blushed still more ferociously.
At the first seminar of the summer term, after Edwin had handed round the sheets of purple printed poems, he said, ‘Violet, could you kindly read aloud for us the first poem on the sheet?’
At the end of the class he stopped her again as she was trying to sidle out. ‘You see. It wasn’t so bad.’
‘I didn’t read it very well.’
‘Hopkins is hardly a piece of cake.’ The odd eyes held hers. ‘You have a good ear.’
‘Miss Arnold said that.’
‘And Miss Arnold is…?’
‘My English teacher. At school. It was her idea I should come to Cambridge.’
‘You wouldn’t have come under your own steam?’
‘I shouldn’t think so.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m not bright enough,’ Vi said, and began blushing again.
‘Nonsense,’ Edwin said. ‘You’re shy, not at all the same thing. There’s nothing wrong with being shy. I’m shy too, if it comes to that.’ Vi, who did not believe this for a second, felt grateful. ‘You like poetry.’ It appeared to be a statement not a question.
‘When I understand it.’
‘If you like it you will understand it. Apprehend it, I should say. Poems are like people: they should not be too well “understood”.’
He walked her to the gate by St Benet’s church where blue and white bluebells were still gracing the old graveyard. ‘Come and have a drink with me some time and tell me which other poets you like.’
‘Bloody hell, I gave my thigh one hell of a bashing on those underwater bars.’ Jen emerged like a gleaming sea lion suddenly from the water. ‘They should watch that. I could sue. Is it nice there?’ She heaved herself up and rolled on to the couch beside Vi.
‘It is nice,’ Vi said. ‘I wouldn’t have come if my steward hadn’t bullied me.’
‘I know what you mean. Sometimes you have to be made to do things which turn out to be the best things you ever do.’
‘You think so?’
‘Oh yeah. Ken made me marry him. I didn’t want to, but he kept on at me, and then he shut me in a cupboard under his gran’s stairs and wouldn’t let me out till I promised to marry him. He told me it was full of spiders. I was scared of spiders so I said “yes”.’
‘Heavens.’
‘I had my fingers crossed and I wasn’t meaning to go through with it. But then, you know, I got to quite like the idea. Funny thing, life.’
‘Did you ever regret it?’
‘Who doesn’t? Goes with the territory. See, look, there’s going to be one hell of a bruise there. Ken’ll be mad at me. He says I can’t be trusted out on my own.’
They showered and washed their hair and dried it with over-efficient blowers provided by the spa.
‘It’s like school,’ Jen said, towelling her back and shoulders vigorously. ‘Only the showers work better here and, goody, look, body lotion.’ She pumped a palmful of cream from a dispenser and rubbed it over her breasts. ‘Never really get rid of stretch marks, do you? Not that you seem to have any. What are you up to now?’
‘I might have an early lunch.’
‘I’m off to play Scrabble with Ken. It’s his turn to win.’
‘Do you take it in turns?’
‘Not officially. But I let him win every so often. Stops him getting narky. Know what I mean?’
‘I think so,’ said Vi. Even ‘narky’ Ken was so obviously a pushover for Jen.
9
Trouble had broken out in the Alexandria Grill. Walter, the German chef, who had fallen in love with Jean-Paul, a waiter from Toulouse, had caught Jean-Paul
‘John Donne,’ said Vi, longing for a complexion that did not ensure that every private emotion went on vivid display. ‘But I already knew it.’
‘Don’t apologise for knowing Donne,’ Edwin had said.
When the class was over, he caught her at the door. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Honour St John. But I use my second name.’
‘Which is?’ he looked less like a bird of prey when he smiled.
‘Violet. My friends call me Vi.’
‘Violet suits you.’ Vi blushed still more ferociously.
At the first seminar of the summer term, after Edwin had handed round the sheets of purple printed poems, he said, ‘Violet, could you kindly read aloud for us the first poem on the sheet?’
At the end of the class he stopped her again as she was trying to sidle out. ‘You see. It wasn’t so bad.’
‘I didn’t read it very well.’
‘Hopkins is hardly a piece of cake.’ The odd eyes held hers. ‘You have a good ear.’
‘Miss Arnold said that.’
‘And Miss Arnold is…?’
‘My English teacher. At school. It was her idea I should come to Cambridge.’
‘You wouldn’t have come under your own steam?’
‘I shouldn’t think so.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m not bright enough,’ Vi said, and began blushing again.
‘Nonsense,’ Edwin said. ‘You’re shy, not at all the same thing. There’s nothing wrong with being shy. I’m shy too, if it comes to that.’ Vi, who did not believe this for a second, felt grateful. ‘You like poetry.’ It appeared to be a statement not a question.
‘When I understand it.’
‘If you like it you will understand it. Apprehend it, I should say. Poems are like people: they should not be too well “understood”.’
He walked her to the gate by St Benet’s church where blue and white bluebells were still gracing the old graveyard. ‘Come and have a drink with me some time and tell me which other poets you like.’
‘Bloody hell, I gave my thigh one hell of a bashing on those underwater bars.’ Jen emerged like a gleaming sea lion suddenly from the water. ‘They should watch that. I could sue. Is it nice there?’ She heaved herself up and rolled on to the couch beside Vi.
‘It is nice,’ Vi said. ‘I wouldn’t have come if my steward hadn’t bullied me.’
‘I know what you mean. Sometimes you have to be made to do things which turn out to be the best things you ever do.’
‘You think so?’
‘Oh yeah. Ken made me marry him. I didn’t want to, but he kept on at me, and then he shut me in a cupboard under his gran’s stairs and wouldn’t let me out till I promised to marry him. He told me it was full of spiders. I was scared of spiders so I said “yes”.’
‘Heavens.’
‘I had my fingers crossed and I wasn’t meaning to go through with it. But then, you know, I got to quite like the idea. Funny thing, life.’
‘Did you ever regret it?’
‘Who doesn’t? Goes with the territory. See, look, there’s going to be one hell of a bruise there. Ken’ll be mad at me. He says I can’t be trusted out on my own.’
They showered and washed their hair and dried it with over-efficient blowers provided by the spa.
‘It’s like school,’ Jen said, towelling her back and shoulders vigorously. ‘Only the showers work better here and, goody, look, body lotion.’ She pumped a palmful of cream from a dispenser and rubbed it over her breasts. ‘Never really get rid of stretch marks, do you? Not that you seem to have any. What are you up to now?’
‘I might have an early lunch.’
‘I’m off to play Scrabble with Ken. It’s his turn to win.’
‘Do you take it in turns?’
‘Not officially. But I let him win every so often. Stops him getting narky. Know what I mean?’
‘I think so,’ said Vi. Even ‘narky’ Ken was so obviously a pushover for Jen.
9
Trouble had broken out in the Alexandria Grill. Walter, the German chef, who had fallen in love with Jean-Paul, a waiter from Toulouse, had caught Jean-Paul
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