by Two days later, and I had my gateway straight into the heart of Merlin’s grove all set up. Ophelia had constructed one for me in my own room, with a silver-shimmering pentagram drawn onto the floor by her own hand.
‘Oooh,’ I’d said, enthralled. ‘What does the star do?’
‘Shows you where it is,’ Ophelia had answered as she straightened. ‘So you don’t wander onto it by mistake.’
‘…Right.’
I hadn’t yet used it, except once to test that it worked. My apprenticeship would be confined to Tuesdays, except when I was out on assignment. We’re beginning next week.
After Ophelia left, my apprehensions reached such a height that I spent a full thirty-six hours out in the unicorn glade with Addie. Human doubts and fears don’t strike you the same way when you have hooves, a horn and a tail. I recommend it.
They all came flooding back, though, as soon as I regained my human shape. I felt bowed down under the weight of it, as though with my human hands and face and feet I’d also donned a heavy mantle of doubt.
I resigned myself to an unquiet couple of weeks.
Worse, I couldn’t even impose on Jay. Not that I should, of course. I’ve been making all kinds of resolutions in that direction of late; something about not behaving as though Jay is there for my personal convenience (even if he does call himself my sidekick). Jay has enough stuff of his own to deal with; he doesn’t deserve to have to support me through so much of mine.
Whether or not I can manage to stick to this praiseworthy resolution will have to go a little longer untested, for when I next saw him, he’d donned jacket and boots, and carried his motorcycle helmet in one hand. I bumped into him in the corridor outside my room; apparently he’d been on his way to see me.
‘Ves,’ he said with a smile. ‘I just came to let you know I’m out for a bit.’
‘Oh!’ I said brightly. ‘That’s great. Where are you off to?’
‘Family time.’
I nodded. He looked all set to go, and a certain restlessness about him suggested he was eager to be off. I confined my response to some murmured platitudes, and waited for him to be gone.
But he stood dithering.
‘I’ve got sort of… well, a date,’ he said.
‘Oh!’
‘I suppose you could call it that.’
‘Are you calling it that?’
‘I mean… that’s the idea. Yes.’
‘But…?’ I ventured, sensing a further hesitation.
‘Erm, it’s of an unusual kind,’ he said, not quite meeting my eye. ‘She’s the daughter of a friend of my parents. We knew each other pretty well as kids, and… well, I met her again several weeks ago.’
‘And hit it off,’ I said, beaming. ‘Great!’
‘Something like that.’
Jay looked fabulously uncomfortable, and I really couldn’t figure out why. ‘I’m sure you’ll have a great time,’ I enthused, possibly overdoing the delight just a bit.
He shrugged. ‘Our parents would be — I mean, they’re really into the idea, and…’ He shrugged again.
Why Jay was going into so much detail was as incomprehensible to me as his palpable discomfort. A frown was gathering upon my brow, which I hastily smoothed out. It wouldn’t do to seem displeased. ‘Are you okay?’ I said.
‘Yes!’ he said, flashing a megawatt smile. ‘I’m great. It’ll be great, I’m sure.’
‘Sure it will. I bet she’s lovely.’
‘Hope so,’ said Jay, so softly I almost didn’t catch it. He cleared his throat. ‘You’ll be seeing Alban?’
‘Not to my knowledge.’
‘Aha.’ He nodded. I wondered if that was either approval or relief I detected in his mostly impassive face, and gave up the attempt. The finer points of Jay’s inner feelings are too hard to read. ‘Something else?’ he said.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Are you doing something else?’
‘Not really. Just waiting to get started with Merlin. Might see if I can find out how Orlando’s getting on with the argent. You know.’
‘Work, then.’
‘Always.’ I smiled.
‘Ves. Don’t you ever leave Home?’
‘All the time,’ I said, frowning again. ‘You’re usually with me.’
‘I mean, for reasons other than work.’
‘Of course I do. Loads.’
‘Such as that time you…?’
I thought and thought, but failed to recall a single recent incident that wasn’t essentially work-related. Even that time we’d hared off at my mother’s request had been more to do with my Society position than my status as her daughter. ‘Well, maybe I haven’t in a while, true.’
‘How about ever?’
I folded my arms, a defensive gesture if ever I saw one, but I couldn’t help it. It was done before I was aware. ‘Just what are you getting at?’
He held out a pacifying hand. ‘Nothing. Sorry. I’m not trying to be critical. It’s just that I…’
‘Yes?’ I said.
‘…wonder if you’re happy. That’s all. And now that you’re to be taking on a challenging new role…’
‘Of course I’m happy,’ I said instantly. ‘I love my job. I love the Society.’
‘Most people have more than just work.’
‘Most people don’t have my job,’ I countered. ‘It has everything I need.’
‘Right.’ He nodded.
‘I may not have family gatherings, or siblings, or parents who set me up with the hot offspring of their friends, but I don’t need that stuff. I’ve got House, and everyone in it.’
He nodded again, but instead of responding to my litany of self-justification, he said: ‘Sometime, I’d… I’d really like you to meet my family.’
I blinked. ‘What?’
‘You’ve already met Rina and Indira,’ he rushed on. ‘You’d really like Anaya and Dev, I promise, and they’d love you. So would my parents.’
‘Jay…’
‘There’s Diwali in the autumn and we’d love you to join us.’
‘Are you… are you trying to share your family with me?’
He grinned sheepishly. ‘Not exactly?’
‘I hope this isn’t a pity party.’
‘Pity? Never.’
I nodded cautiously, aware that I was eyeing him with deep suspicion.
‘It’s just a thought,’ he said. ‘Think it over.’ He clapped me awkwardly on my upper arm and took off, his gait super casual.
‘Thank you,’ I called after him. ‘Have a great date.’
Jay waved without turning around. In another instant, he’d turned the corner and vanished beyond sight.
It was my turn to dither. I thought about visiting Val, but I’d bothered her enough lately. She had work to do. Plus, since I had as yet failed to secure the grimoire for her, I wasn’t sure I was up for another grilling on that subject.
I suppressed an unworthy urge to text Alban, and angle for an invitation. Jay’s observations had bothered me a bit, for all that I’d denied every one of them. And if he was going to have a date, well… couldn’t I have one, too?
Not with the married prince of Mandridore. No. I stood with my phone in hand for two minutes, finger hovering over Alban’s number, before resolutely putting it away and striding off.
I didn’t have any particular destination in mind, but two things happened on the way to nowhere.
The first was a bounding bundle of dandelion fluff, butter-yellow and yipping with delight.
‘Pup!’ I squealed, scooping her up, and burying my face in her soft fur. She’s been scarce since Miranda came back, and I’ve resented that a bit. But I haven’t interfered. Whatever my personal feelings about Miranda, I know she takes the best possible care of Pup. Probably better even than I do.
I heard Miranda’s voice, then, from somewhere at the other end of the corridor. ‘Ah, good, she found you,’ she said. ‘Jay thought you might like to see her.’
A tiny tear prickled behind my eye. Jay had arranged this?
‘Have you missed me, you bad Pup?’ I whispered into her fur. She certainly behaved as though she had; she was squirming with joy, and doing her best to lick my ear, my nose and my eyeballs all at the same time.
‘Thanks,’ I called, just as Miranda darted away again. She’d looked almost as uncomfortable as Jay, and that was definitely a hasty retreat she’d beaten. A faint sensation of guilt added itself to the roiling mess of my emotions. I’d made my resentment towards Miranda so obvious, she wouldn’t spend more than two minutes in the same room with me.
And I still didn’t really feel like I wanted her to.
Sighing, I set Pup down and proceeded on my way. Things certainly looked more positive when I had Goodie Goodfellow frisking along at my heels, and I sent Jay a silent thank you. This girl he was seeing had better be amazing.
I wandered along aimlessly, my thoughts far from Home, until at length I was halted by the sound of someone saying my name.
It was Rob. I’d ended up at the sanitorium. The door stood open, and there he was, on doctor duty today and smiling a welcome at me. ‘Morning,’ he said. ‘Were you coming to see me?’
I hesitated. ‘You know what,’ I said. ‘I think I was, yes.’
In went Pup and I. I took the plain pine chair he offered me, and Pup promptly jumped into my lap. She stood there, wiggling furiously as her tail wagged, and as I bent to pet her she barely avoided stabbing out my eye with her pointy horn.
‘You spoke of my maybe seeing Grace,’ I said, not looking at Rob. ‘A bit ago. Is… is that offer still open?’
‘Anytime,’ he said. ‘I can call her today and tell her you’re coming.’
I nodded my assent.
‘Right.’ He scrawled a quick note for himself, then sat back and surveyed me with his measuring gaze. ‘Anything I can do for you?’
I felt the warning prick of tears again, and could almost have immolated myself with frustration. Damn it, when had I turned into this weeping mess of a person?
‘It’s just tiredness,’ I said thickly. ‘And — and I’m a bit overwrought. It will go away, won’t it?’
He nodded with all the confidence I could wish for. ‘It’s natural enough. And considering the time you’ve had lately, I’d be surprised if you weren’t feeling unsettled.’
Unsettled. That was a word I could accept. It sounded normal and transitory, and not as though I was losing every shred of my gumption.
I took a breath. ‘Maybe we could talk?’
‘Of course.’ He got up and closed the door, shutting all my challenges and obstacles, potential failures and gnawing fears on the other side of it. In here, just for a little while, I didn’t have to face any of them.
‘Tell me how you’re feeling,’ Rob said, and I was struck again by how easily this man could go from grim, Scary Rob to patient and kind-hearted doctor.
How I loved my Society.
‘I think it started back in Vale,’ I began. I took a deep breath, and the words flowed and flowed. It was a long time before I stopped talking.
But Rob listened and counselled, and Pup wriggled and cuddled, and by the time I left the sanitorium the tears had receded and I felt much more balanced.
Onward, Ves, I told myself sternly. We can do this.
With Goodie at my heels, I trailed back to the first-floor common room and took my usual seat. Jay’s opposite chair sat empty and dreary, but one thing was there to welcome me: Milady’s silver chocolate-pot, pouring steam from the spout.
‘Thanks, Milady,’ I murmured, pouring a cup. ‘We’re going to be okay.’
