A Version of the Truth. B P Walter

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      ‘So that means your … your dad is …’

      Ally rolled her eyes, as if to say here we go again. ‘Yes, dearest Daddy, also known as Clive Kelman, Tory MP. One of Auntie Maggie’s closest chums. Major prick in private, though don’t tell the Telegraph I said that.’

      ‘I … I won’t,’ Caitlin said, looking a little starstruck. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to look equally impressed, but politics had never been a strong interest of mine and the name didn’t mean anything. Still, the fact that her dad was an MP was interesting, regardless, if rather daunting. If the first person I’d met was the daughter of an MP, I didn’t like to think about the backgrounds of my other fellow students. Who would I meet next? The offspring of judges? Film stars? Minor royalty?

      We headed back down the corridor towards my room, Caitlin’s concerns obliterated by Ally’s familial connections. She’d rushed off, giving me a small wave and an encouraging smile. We had almost reached my room when Ally stopped and approached one of the other doors. The sound of voices was emanating from it. Male voices. She seemed to be listening intently.

      ‘What is it?’ I said, looking at her and then at the door. ‘Whose room is that?’

      ‘It’s my room,’ she replied in a loud whisper.

      ‘Has someone broken in?’ I said, louder than I meant to, then cringed at how melodramatic it sounded.

      ‘Someone has certainly entered uninvited. I was just trying to work out who was with him. Oh dear, as if I didn’t know …’

      I wanted to ask who she was referring to, but before I could she’d flung open the door forcefully and marched inside. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to follow, but was too intrigued to wait, so walked in after her.

      ‘Well. This is a pretty sight, isn’t it?’ Her hands were on her hips again.

      Two boys were lying on her bed, laughing. One had a cigarette in his hand, the other a hardback book. There was something odd about the way they were lying together, side by side, on the single bed, their legs up against each other. I’d never seen boys behave like this, as if they had some deep-rooted familiarity. Both were extremely good-looking. One was blond, slim, with a distinct jawline, and was obviously Ally’s brother. The other was larger, though from muscle rather than fat, with dark hair and a face that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a movie poster. In fact, he could almost have passed for a younger Tom Cruise.

      ‘Sis!’ The blond one pulled himself up into a sitting position. Tom Cruise stayed horizontal, his eyes settling on us.

      ‘Don’t call me sis,’ she snapped.

      ‘Very well, Aphrodite.’

      They both laughed.

      ‘Don’t give me that. Why are you on my bed?’

      The blond boy adopted a look of great offence and clutched a hand to his white-shirted chest. ‘You wound me, sis. I thought you said to come and visit you whenever I liked.’

      ‘I said nothing of the kind.’ Ally now turned her cold eyes on the other boy. ‘James, I expected better of you.’

      ‘He led me astray,’ the boy said in a low, resonant tone. For some reason his voice sent a ripple down my shoulders. I shivered slightly and his eyes flicked over to me. ‘Are you cold?’ he said, smiling, as if he somehow knew he was having an effect on me.

      ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ I said.

      ‘Introduce us to your friend, sis,’ the blond boy said, drawing on the cigarette.

      Ally turned to me. ‘Holly, this is my prat of a brother, Ernest.’

      I wasn’t sure if I should offer my hand, but he didn’t seem inclined to get off the bed any time soon, so I just waved. He smiled in return. A nice smile, making his otherwise hard face seem friendlier.

      ‘The other layabout is James, my brother’s best friend and occasional shag-buddy.’

      Ernest’s smile became more of a smirk. ‘Still dining out on that joke, sis? Wasn’t funny the first time.’

      ‘Makes me laugh,’ she said.

      The other boy was also smiling. ‘Not entirely a lie, though,’ he said, nudging Ernest with his elbow. He winked at me and I felt myself blushing.

      ‘Too much info,’ Ally said, tersely.

      James pulled himself upright and stepped off the bed. He held out a hand to me and I took it. ‘James Knight. Very nice to meet you … Holly, was it?’

      ‘Yes,’ I said, trying to hold his gaze but finding it difficult. It felt as though his dark eyes were staring right past my face, reading my thoughts. It was an uncomfortable sensation, but electric somehow, and part of me didn’t want it to stop.

      ‘Well, isn’t that nice.’ He pulled his hand back. ‘Ernest and I need to leave his sister in peace now. But I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot more of you soon. A friend of Ally’s is a friend of ours.’ He said it as if it were a strict rule he was fully committed to. I just nodded, hoping I didn’t appear as uncomfortable as I felt. Eventually he said, ‘Come on, Ern. Let’s take our leave.’

      Ernest got up off the bed, flattening his shirt down and patting his sister on the shoulder as he passed her.

      ‘Thanks for the secondhand cancer,’ she said, waving a hand in the air to clear the smoke. Once the door was closed she sat down on her bed with a sigh.

      ‘So that was Ernest.’

      I smiled, standing awkwardly in front of her.

      ‘And James, of course. James is all right.’

      ‘Yes,’ I said, and realised I was smiling. ‘He certainly seemed to be.’

      She glanced at me and laughed. ‘Oh, sure he’s gorgeous. Less of a womaniser than my brother, though. More choosy.’

      I wondered if she was implying he was out of my league. I thought about asking if he was single, then worried that would sound too forward, as if I was actively interested. Which I was, I realised, with a lurch in the stomach. If only, I thought, then pulled myself together. It felt silly to imagine such things, having barely set foot in the place or met anyone new. I was tragically out of my depth – even a passing stranger on the street would have been able to tell as much, been able to spot my lack of experience, my awkward approach to socialising. In the future, I would wonder what it was I did during that afternoon that led to me being singled out from the rest, chosen, made to feel both special and alone. And, after a lot of introspection and clawing back over the past, I still don’t really have the answer. I was just being me. No mask, no pretence. Being myself. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you meet people for the first time. That’s one of the main rules. Isn’t it?

       Chapter 4

      Julianne

      Knightsbridge, СКАЧАТЬ