The Art School Dance (15 page)

‘
No, of
course not.’

‘
Or
perhaps you only want to be with me in bed, you don’t want to be
seen with me anywhere else.’

‘
You
know that’s not true,’ I protested.

‘
Do I?’
Paula drank down her coffee, tossed her empty cup into a litter
bin. ‘You’ve got to remember that you aren’t at school any more,
Ginny. You’re at art college, it’s a liberal place and you’re not
going to get expelled for what you’re doing.’ She rose from the
bench, straightened her skirt. ‘You may as well accept that people
will notice, too, sooner or later, no matter how secretive we
are.’

She was right,
of course. I knew that. I remembered what she had said to me just
before Christmas, that if I was ever going to be an artist I needed
to be a little less narrow-minded. To show that I understood I
caught Paula by the arm and kissed her full on the mouth.

‘
Very
good, Ginny,’ Paula said with a mocking grin, when I released her.
‘Very brave of you, too, considering that there’s no one here to
see. I’ll give you a bit more credit when you can do that in
college, though.’

‘
Are you
making fun of me?’ I asked.

‘
Only in
a loving way,’ she promised. ‘You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.
It’s a sort of naïve charm.’

‘
Naïve?’
I said, responding as if it was an insult. I hardly considered it
naïve of me to get involved with a woman like Paula.

‘
Yes,
Ginny, at times you are. Now come on, I’ve got to get back,’ Paula
said, taking my hand. She added wickedly, ‘Don’t panic, I promise
to let go of your hand as soon as we’re in sight of
college.’

‘
I don’t
mind, let everyone see us,’ I said, wrapping Paula’s fingers
tightly in mine, but when I became uncomfortable, among the busier
streets near college, I heard her give a soft laugh as she released
my hand. ‘It really is only embarrassment, you know,’ I promised
her. ‘It isn’t shame or anything like that.’

‘
I
should bloody well think not!’ she said.

*

Of course Paula
was right about it being impossible to keep our affair a secret.
People were bound to notice, we were a tight-knit community in the
art school and it didn’t take long for suspicions to be aroused;
only the very next week, in the ‘Commercial’ with the usual crowd,
one clue quickly led to another.

First of all
Jeff reminded me that my bike was still at his house.

‘
When
are you going to pick it up?’ he asked me. ‘It isn’t covered, it’s
going to get rusty if it’s left there much longer.’

‘
I’ll
call as soon as I can,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow, the day after, whenever
I find the time.’

‘
You
still haven’t told me why you had to leave it there.’

‘
Because
I couldn’t take it with me.’

‘
So why
bring it out with you in the first place?’

My answers
were patently evasive, and so aroused the suspicions of the others;
what had begun as a private exchange between Jeff and myself was
soon being followed by everyone else.

‘
I
needed to get out of the house alone, without Stephen tagging
along,’ I said. ‘It’s no tandem, remember, so going on the bike was
the best way to be rid of him.’

‘
That’s
reasonable enough,’ Jeff agreed, as others nodded with him. ‘Once
you were out on the bike, though, why didn’t you go on it all the
way to wherever you were going? Why did you have to leave it with
me?’

‘
Because
the place I was going wasn’t the sort of place you can go to on a
bike,’ I said, becoming impatient and feeling my face
flushing.

Gus came in at
this point, laughing one of his loud incredulous laughs. ‘Come off
it, Ginny! How many places like that are there in this miserable
town?’

‘
The
‘Bellingham’,’ I blurted out, and immediately wanted to bite my
tongue.

‘
The
‘Bellingham’? Who do we know that goes there? You’re not telling us
you do?’

‘
Paula
goes there,’ Chrissie recalled, and there was a sudden twinkle in
her eye as she further remembered: ‘And, now that I come to think
of it, I’ve seen the two of you chatting together an awful lot in
college of late, especially in the studio when most other people
have gone for lunch.’

‘
Paula
and Ginny? You can’t be serious.’

People
exchange curious glances while I sipped my drink in silence,
feeling my cheeks burning ever more fiercely.

‘
Was
it the
‘Bellingham’ you went to?’ Gus asked me. ‘To meet
Paula?’

What Paula had
said about the need for honesty came to mind, and how I’d promised
her that I felt no shame about our affair, so I owned up to the
truth of the matter, answered ‘yes’ to both of his questions. There
were astonished looks, disbelieving chuckles, I thought I detected
a gasp or two of admiration.

‘
So what
was she doing with you?’ Oggie Ogden asked. ‘Was she looking for a
bit of scruff? Slumming it?’

‘
I don’t
think so,’ I replied.

‘
Piss
off! Of course she was!’

‘
She
must be awful fond of scruff, then,’ I answered smugly.

‘
You
mean you’ve been out with her more than just the once?’ Gus
asked.

‘
Yes,
I’ve seen her more than the once,’ I owned up. ‘In fact I’m due to
meet her just about now,’ I added, looking at my watch, ‘so if
you’ll excuse me...’

*

Outside, on the
street, I felt a giddy pounding in my brain as if I had confessed
the most mortal of sins to the parish priest. There would be no
penance to pay for this particular confession, though; instead
there might be respect, when I told Paula, and maybe even a little
glory in the glances I would get the next day in college. I
sprinted down the street and felt my spirit soar, more free than it
had ever been made by confession, ran along to Paula’s flat and
rang the doorbell.

She was
dressed in jeans and tee shirt when she opened the door. The flat
was so warm that I needed my feet as bare as hers, kicked off my
shoes and pulled off my socks to squat beside her on the settee.
The flat was small, compact, I had never known such a cosy place,
as warm and welcoming as Paula herself.

‘
People
know,’ I told her, with a broad grin.

‘
About
us, you mean?’

‘
Right.’

‘
Which
people?’

‘
The
ones you might expect; Gus, Jeff and company.’

Paula smiled,
I could see that she was pleased. ‘And now that they know it'll
soon be common knowledge.’

‘
They’ll
keep it to themselves if I ask them to,’ I said. ‘They’re good
friends.’

Paula shook
her head and her hair smelled fresh, of the shampoo she’d used.
‘No, there’s no need to keep it secret. Is there?’

‘
No,’ I
agreed.

‘
There’s
no need to hide what’s going on. There’s no need to hide
anything.’

I was
persuaded to stay that night -there was always an excuse I could
give my mother, who was becoming accustomed to my coming and going-
and the next morning Paula and I went into college together, at
just the right time for people to see us. I kept the promise I made
to her in bed, kissed her openly and lovingly outside Ben’s office
where everyone could witness, staff and students alike.

Just get an
eyeful of me! Ginny da Vinci grown up!

Chapter Eleven

I next saw
Stephen the weekend after news of my affair began to circulate
around college, and I was determined to tell him everything before
he found out for himself. I had little chance to speak to him,
though, it seemed that we were never alone for long enough, so I
had to wait until Tuesday, the evening when his parents went out. I
would go with him for a drink and tell him then.

For obvious
reasons which were as yet unknown to Stephen it had been some time
since our last customary Tuesday night out; there had been the busy
weeks before Christmas, the interruption of the holiday itself, and
then the excuse that there was so much to do at that crucial point
in my career. When I met him that evening he was bright and
cheerful, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed, like a child looking
forward to a long-awaited treat; there was a sloppy kiss on the
mouth for me, then his arm linked through mine. I was all too aware
that he didn’t hold me the way Paula did

The first
thing he asked was if the varnish on his portrait was dry yet.

‘
It’s
still a little tacky,’ I lied. ‘It can take weeks, sometimes
months, for it to dry properly. I can’t bring it home from college
just yet.’

‘
But
soon? I’ll see it soon?’

‘
As soon
as possible.’

‘
I can’t
wait. I’ve told Mum and Dad all about it and they’re keen to see it
too. Mum’s even said that if it’s as good as I say then she
wouldn’t mind having another done for the living room. Do you think
you could manage that, Ginny?’

Obviously
there was no chance, but I simply said, ‘I’m not sure.’

‘
She’d
pay you, of course.’

‘
It’s
not the money, Stephen. You know how much work I’ve got to do this
term, important work.’

‘
But if
you could find the time?’

‘
If I
can find the time,’ I said, to silence him.

We walked into
town and the clump of his brogues on the pavement sounded a little
less steady than Paula’s unmistakable step, as if he’d only just
learned how to walk in ‘grown up’ shoes. I suppose it was unfair of
me, but I found myself making comparisons all the time; the clothes
I had once thought so smart on him now seemed a little less so, the
aftershave he wore –even though I had bought it for him- seemed a
touch too obvious, and I could only think that he splashed it on
whereas Paula used her scents more cleverly. Unkind, yes, but just
as I had once compared Stephen with less attractive friends of his,
so I now made a further comparison, an unfair one perhaps, but one
which was to his disadvantage; it was a natural progression, I
guessed, in the artist’s search for perfection.

Stephen asked
me where I’d like to go, a sign of how content he was, of how
pleased he was to be with me, and I surprised him by choosing the
‘Crofters’; this was the place where I would like to remember him,
brash and raucous, loud and over-decorated.

We found a
seat in a corner and had a couple of drinks, Dutch courage for me;
I couldn’t tell Stephen outright, off the cuff, what was on my
mind, it had to come slowly and I needed to rehearse the words in
my head. This I did, while Stephen droned on about his boring day
at the office.

Right, I
finally decided, I’d get one more drink and then break the
news.

The bar was
crowded, it took a while to get served, and then I was caught in
conversation with some slight acquaintance; maybe five minutes had
passed before I got back with the drinks, and then it was to find
some girl with Stephen, one who was obviously slightly drunk and
trying to chat him up; she was leaning close to him and doing her
best to work her arm around his shoulders.

Why couldn’t
the slut have waited a little longer, just fifteen minutes, half an
hour? Stephen would have been free then, available, ready to be
caught on the rebound.

‘
Hey!’ I
said, putting the drinks down on the table, and the girl turned to
me, smiling boozily.

‘
Piss
off,’ she burped.

‘
No!
You
piss off! Go
on, lose yourself!’

The girl took
no notice of me so I grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her
away. I had never been especially strong, but the girl was drunk
and back she went, tripped over her own clumsy feet and tumbling to
the floor. While she was still struggling to get up the landlord
and a barman were across to her, grabbing her by the arms and
bundling her out the door.

The landlord
returned full of apologies. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ he gushed.
‘She’s a nuisance, that one, when she’s had a drink or two.’

‘
That’s
okay, no harm done,’ I said, but out of the corner of my eye I was
worried to see Stephen’s look of admiration.

He held onto
me, then, like I was some sort of heroine, and there was so much
love in his eyes that I couldn’t bring myself to speak of the all
important matter; wearily I suggested that we go home. All the way
back to Stephen’s house the love was in his eyes, he told me how
wonderful I was and kept clinging to me; if I’d told him the truth
right there and then I’d have felt such a cunt, so all I could do
was accept his adulation, go into his house for a quick kiss and
cuddle and then report back to Paula the next day.

*

I expected
Paula to be disappointed, perhaps even angry, but she found the
whole episode quite amusing.

‘
So now
you’re his knight in shining armour?’ she laughed, when we were
back at her flat after college. ‘A bit of a reversal in roles, the
dame dashing along on her charger to rescue the dupe in distress. I
must confess I’m seeing a new side to your nature,
Ginny.’

Paula was in
her bathrobe, before the dressing table; she'd just had a shower
and was putting on make-up before we went out for a meal, but my
story had her so amused that she couldn’t keep her mouth straight
to apply her lipstick.