Part 8 (1/2)

'No,' I said quietly. 'I won't.' A small dragonfly skimmed past, a blur of blue iridescence.

'You're not nearly as open with me,' she observed with another sip of champagne, 'but I don't mind. I never have-I know you've always preferred to keep your own counsel.' I nodded. It was quite true. 'Anyway,' she said brightly. 'How was the fete?'

'Oh...it was...nice. The dog show was fun.'

'And the house?'

'It's fantastic. Like a smaller version of Gosford Park.'

'Well they say she's worth squillions. And what about him? The hubby.'

'The hubby...'

'I've seen photos. He's losing his hair, but he's rather a dish. Tipped for high office, apparently. Did you meet him?'

I stared at the crazy paving. A column of ants was flowing out of a crack in the concrete. 'I did meet him actually... Yes.' I know I can tell you anything and you won't judge me for it.

'Apparently he's charming,' I heard Daisy say. 'More champers, darling?' She leaned over with the bottle.

'He is charming,' I said. 'He's incredibly charming. He's one of the most charming men that you could meet.' I feel you'd never think badly of me, whatever I told you. I looked at her-then made a sudden decision. 'He's also a s.h.i.+t.'

Daisy lowered the bottle. 'Is he?'

'Oh yes.'

'Well, lots of politicians are,' she shrugged as she batted away a wasp. 'I guess it goes with the territory.'

'It's much more than that.'

'How do you know?'

'I just do,' I said bitterly.

'But how?' There was silence. 'How do you know that?'

I took a deep breath. 'Because I've met him before.'

'Really?' she said. 'When was that then?'

'Sixteen years ago.'

'When you were living in Brighton?'

I nodded. 'He was a student there.'

'Oh, I get it,' she said, her eyes widening. 'He was your boyfriend. Is that it?'

'Sort of. I was infatuated with him-put it that way.'

'Blimey. Small world,' she breathed. 'And he treated you badly?' she asked, with another sip of champagne. 'b.a.s.t.a.r.d!'

I smiled at her retrospective loyalty. 'He treated me very badly, Daisy-but not in the way that you think.'

'What did he do then?' she asked, clearly intrigued.

'Well...he did something...very...shocking, and he involved me in it, and it's haunted me ever since.' Daisy was looking at me, spellbound. I stared at the ground.

'Well, whatever it was,' I heard her say, 'remember that you were only sixteen. You were very young.'

I sighed. 'That's true. But even so, the memory still fills me with shame.' I put down my gla.s.s. I had a pain between my eyes.

'Anyway, I'm sure it wasn't that bad. We all do things we regret,' she went on tactfully. 'Silly things. Unkind things. Don't be too hard on yourself, Miranda.'

There was a knife-like pain in my throat. 'I'm not being hard on myself-it was that bad. In fact, it was dreadful. It was absolutely dreadful.' I felt my eyes suddenly fill. 'You said I'm brave just now, Daisy, but I'm not.' My hands sprang up to my face. 'If I were I'd have done something about it years ago, but I never have.' I felt a warm tear slide down my cheek.

'What was it?' I heard her ask gently. 'You can tell me.'

I shook my head. 'You'd despise me if you knew.'

'I wouldn't, Miranda. You're my closest friend.'

'You would-you'd judge me. You wouldn't be able to help it.'

'I promise you I won't judge you, Miranda, whatever it was, any more than I know you'd judge me.'

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes. 'I've never got over it,' I croaked. 'The knowledge that I hurt someone so much.'

'You hurt someone?' I nodded. 'You mean, physically?' I nodded again. 'But who?'

'This...boy,' I replied. 'Well, young man. He was twenty then. His name was David.'

'What was he like?'

I shook my head. 'I don't know.'

'You don't know what he was like?' I shook my head again. 'Why not?'

'Because I've never met him.'

She looked confused. 'You've never met him-but you hurt him?'

'Yes.'

'I don't understand. Was it by accident?'

'Sort of. Or rather, no-it wasn't. It wasn't an accident.' Daisy was staring at me as though I were speaking in tongues. 'It was a crime,' I whispered. There was silence, punctuated only by the soft roar of a distant plane.

'A crime?' she repeated softly. I looked away, unable to maintain eye contact.

'It was...' I drew in my breath, '...very bad.'