Life Read Free Page A

essential—it would be at the end of an extended and intense single life, and with somebody she had met long after this callow apprenticeship as an undergraduate. The cold kiss of dew on her bare ankles, she lifted her face to gaze at the stars: distracted by reasoned argument and comforted by exquisite dreams. The house in the country where she and Rob would live together. Their cats, their dogs, their two children, Richard and Delphine. But as she approached one of the beeches, a solitary tree that she regarded as her particular refuge, a dart of anguish pierced her: he doesn’t love me and he never will.
    It was the truth. She could read the game-board; she knew her hopes were doomed. She could see other couples moving together, possible or probable configurations: not Anna with Rob. Either he had a girlfriend elsewhere, though he’d never mentioned one, or he was gay and shy about letting people know, or (the most likely) he simply did not want to do it with Anna. These things happen at first sight, or at least soon: chemicals are involved. Sexual attraction is not something people ponder over for weeks. He must know that Anna wanted him. She hadn’t offered herself on a plate, the way Margaret would advise, but she’d made her moves. She had gone as far as self-esteem allowed, done and said all the things people do and say that code for would you like to do it with me? The answer was no.
    She huddled down between two of the tree’s massive roots, feeling very glum. It was not to be. She’d been wanting him for too long, anyway: weeks, months. If he turned to her now it would be no use. She’d transformed him into the object of desire; she couldn’t make him human again. How could a happy relationship be built on such an unequal foundation? Perhaps she should try a modified version of Margaret’s way, smuggle herself naked into his bed one night. That way at least she’d get to fuck him once. And then walk away. That would be noble. But if he turned her down? If he said, um thanks but I have an essay to write, or um thanks, er, meet my girlfriend/boyfriend. Awful, awful: and not untypical for the results of taking Margaret’s advice.
    Her worldly wise little sister! If Margaret was so smart, why wasn’t some merchant banker loading her with jewels right now? No, Anna would be Rob’s friend, not even a close friend; that was best. Free to look, free to stay near that gorgeous body, to catch a smile from those wonderful lips… Oh, but the night was beautiful. If you managed not to hear the dance music from someone’s late night party. It was the end of April, dry and fair. The beech tree was in fresh and trembling leaf; the breeze that touched her face carried scents of sap and blossom. It was bliss on a night like this to be alive. And free, and at the beginning of things…
    Suddenly she heard a strange voice, a woman’s voice chanting softly.
    I may love him, I may love him
    For he is a man and I am only a beech tree…
    And then, a low musical wailing.
    Ooooooooooooh, Oooooh…
    Oooooooooh, Ooooooh…
    Anna said sharply, “Who’s there??”
    There was a rustling pause. She wished she hadn’t spoken, she’d probably interrupted a pair of lovers—damn it, how embarrassing. But there had been something truly scary about that long moan. Maybe it was murder not sex that was going on. Then what would she do? Her skin crept, her heart thumped. A figure emerged from around the bole of the tree. It was a girl, a girl with long draggled hair, a round and pallid face, a nose ring, and wire-rimmed glasses. They stared at each other. Involuntarily, Anna brushed a hand across her cropped, dark curls and touched the bridge of her own nose. Her skin felt warm.
    “Hi,” said the girl. “I’m sorry, did I frighten you?”
    She was small, shorter than Anna. She was wearing a long skirt, and her feet were bare. A large, fringed shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes were round behind the round-rimmed