Our Little Secret(25)
And yet there was HP through the smeary kebab shop window. There he was, pointing at sauces, jostling and joking, befriending everyone standing around him. I watched him from ten feet away, loving him for his knack of happiness. He was a rarity, a resilient light, and with a world full of choices surrounding him, he continued to choose me.
chapter
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9
“I’m curious, why did HP bring his friend to England with him?” Novak interrupts my daydream. “I mean, here’s a guy who’s crazy about a girl, saves up all his money to come see her after a prolonged absence . . . and brings his buddy along. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
I keep my face still. “HP and Ezra were a double act back then. They did a lot together.”
“Perhaps he wanted a buffer.” Novak sits forward, his eyes sharp. “Did you ever think about that?”
If he’s trying to get a rise out of me, he’ll have to do better.
“No? Okay. Just asking.” He stands suddenly and pushes back his chair along the squeaking linoleum, then drifts around the table with his hands in his pockets and stares out the thin horizontal window that flanks the right side of the room. He seems to be whistling through his teeth.
“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” I ask.
He doesn’t turn. “You have a rather pessimistic view of the world.” On the way back around the table he hesitates, and instead pulls out the chair next to mine and stands in the gap.
I feel like a Catholic at a confessional, the priest joining me in the booth.
Novak sits down in the chair, facing me. “Do you think it’s normal that Saskia’s missing? Is it all just part of life’s inescapable loss?”
I ignore his question. “Do you watch safari shows, Novak? I watched this show on Discovery once where a mom hippo and her baby were trying to cross a river, and this other grown male hippo comes in and starts stomping the riverbed so that the mom and baby get separated.”
Novak breathes heavily.
“They were crying for each other, the mother and the baby. It is the rawest noise I’ve ever heard. The adult hippo stamped the baby to death while the mom was forced to stand and watch.” I let that sink in. “That’s nature at work; that’s natural. Animals understand the imminence of danger, and yet they still bond. I find that interesting.”
Novak scratches his cheek. “It seems you’d like to educate people on how to behave.”
He’s starting to invade my space. I fight the urge to push my chair away from him. “I’m just saying we should all admit it: there’s always sorrow. It’s why we’re here right now, Novak.”
He shakes his head. “So, which hippo are you in that story?”
“Which hippo? That’s your question?”
“The male one?”
“Please. I’m talking about my worldview, not playing pretend.”
He pauses, meters his words like a metronome. “Did you hurt Saskia to prove a point?”
“No.”
He scribbles a few more words, underlining something, pressing hard. When he speaks again his voice is too breezy. “Well, I’m sorry I cut into your story. I hope you haven’t lost your thread. So . . . HP and Ezra joined you at Oxford. Didn’t you all attend some kind of ball?”
He’s been talking to HP. I nod imperceptibly.
“What did you wear to the ball, Angela?”
I let out one bark of a laugh. “How’s that relevant?”
“Good storytelling’s in the details. You know that.”
“I wore a men’s white dress shirt, tailored so it fit. It stopped at my thighs. I had on a black necktie, worn loose, and heavy mascara. Black knee-high boots. Four-inch heels.”
He pulls at the knot of his tie, loosening it. “See? That tells me a lot.”
“Such as?”
“You grew up. You finally figured out you were attractive. And you wanted HP to realize it.”
We stare at each other across the table. I can play this game, too, if he wants.
chapter
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10
When I clipped down the stairs to the Hertford quad in my high heels, HP and Ezra were waiting on the lawn in their tuxedos. They both turned and bowed. I’d never seen either of them look so grand. HP’s tux fit the line of his shoulders perfectly, and the white of his high collar made his face look even more tanned. He’d been to the barber’s, his hair cut close to his neck and parted to the side like Robert Redford as Jay Gatsby. Ezra had shaved.
For weeks I’d practiced walking in my boots up and down the wooden floor of my college room. Of course I didn’t attempt the grass, but my steps were confident as I strode along the stone path to its edge.
“You look . . . like, wow.” HP headed towards me.
“That’s a hell of a long way from your T-shirt at grad,” added Ez with a whistle. “Hey, you don’t get any offers tonight, you can totally come home with me.”
“M’lady,” said HP, ignoring his friend.
I took HP’s arm and together we headed out of the gates of Hertford towards Keble, stealing glances at each other every now and again. The electricity between us crackled with every step. Detective Novak, it was the best ten minutes I’d had in Oxford.