Page 71 of Infamous

‘Well .?.?.’ said Eddie. ‘No, actually, we are not. As Mrs Nicholson just so aptly demonstrated, we are in fact free to leave at any time, weather and lakeworthy vessels permitting.’

Her tone was enough to get Nash to finally look at her properly. He looked slightly sheepish, although it was a degree of guilt that would have better suited the pilfering of fruit cake than adultery with an audience.

‘Do you want me to leave?’ Eddie pressed on, now being openly churlish. ‘I feel rotten, and everybody keeps looking at me with suchpity, and honestly if you are going to ignore me on top of all that, then there hardly seems any point in my staying.’

‘No, God, Edie— Christ, why must we have all these theatrics?’ said Nash irritably, which seemed entirely unfair from a man so given to theatrics that he might as well have sold tickets to his afternoon naps. ‘Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean that. Look, come here and stop pouting, will you?’

He abandoned the books and reached for her, trying to fold her into his chest.

‘Nash, stop it. I wasn’t asking for .?.?. I hardly expected .?.?.Stopa moment, I mean it.’

He stopped being quite so insistent, although he kept both hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length and looking at her dubiously. Even exhausted and irksome and with a bit of cake in his moustache, he was regrettably handsome, and the magnetic pull towards him persisted. Eddie remembered their kiss, thought of his hand on her thigh and his hot breath on her neck, and felt her resolve waver.

‘What the devil do youwant, then?’ he said, not unkindly.

His hands went to her chin, and he stroked both thumbs across her face, following the lines of her cheekbones. Eddie felt her eyes try to close at his touch, and kept them open with a determination that probably made her look like a lunatic owl.

‘I want to write,’ she said firmly. ‘To finish my story. To see it through. That is what I came here to do. Everything else is .?.?. a distraction.’

It was true, but it was also an egregious lie.

She wanted so much.Toomuch. Rose. Nash. An audience with Nash’s editor. But Nash was off limits, and Rose was out of reach – so the editor would have to bear the full brunt of her desire.

‘A distraction, indeed,’ Nash said, sighing. ‘Ah well. I have been called worse. Very recently, actually.’

‘Was she very angry?’

‘Hmmm,’ said Nash, his hands falling to her shoulders again, stroking at her aimlessly. ‘Best not to dwell. Youhavebeen writing, though, haven’t you?’

‘Yes. Some. A lot, I suppose.’

‘Then it sounds as if you have been sedulous in your efforts and could stand a little .?.?. distraction.’

In a moment of clarity, Eddie understood; his pride had been wounded by Liza’s dramatic exit, but he had only needed the day to lick his wounds, and now that his mood was improved, he fully expected that Eddie would be more than happy to kiss him in the library .?.?. and likely all manner of other places. The entire thing felt so tawdry that Eddie found herself pulling away from him again, shaking her head.

‘Nash, please. You’re .?.?. confused. Upset. Let us just be friends – focus on our work, that’s what really matters.’

Nash had been reaching for her hand, but he stopped. Something flickered across his expression; if she didn’t know better, she might say that he lookedaggravated, although he quickly smoothed it away.

‘Friends. Yes. Wearefriends, of course. But if you simply want me for my powers of literary critique, then I shan’t hold back. I hardly wanted to put you off, but if you want the truth .?.?.’

‘I do,’ Eddie said firmly. She offered him her manuscript, thrusting it out in front of her like a sword. ‘Want the truth. I have no desire to embarrass myself in front of your editor with inferior work, if it is possible to save it. I took your comments on board, I have been making changes .?.?.’

Nash shrugged and took the papers, turning away from her to flick through them as he walked.

‘The thing is, Edie .?.?. it’s all a bit basic and prosaic, isn’t it? With this farcical set-up, the insistence on all this plot .?.?. there is barely a glimpse of true beauty.’

‘You said you liked it,’ Eddie said, embarrassed by the quavering of her voice and the violent drop of her stomach. ‘Before, you said .?.?. You said it was funny, and .?.?. andsearing. And I took out most of the jokes, as you asked.’

‘Cartoons in the newspapers arefunny. A kitchen pan is searing. I was being gentle with you. I certainly cannot showthisto my editor yet, even with the changes you have made. You aren’t ready. You must know that.’

Eddie was trying very hard not to choke on what she could only assume must have been her own saliva and repressed tears; she cleared her throat, her eyes burning, and held out a hand to take the manuscript back.

‘Oh, Edith, please don’t look at me like that .?.?. You wanted the truth, and I gave it to you.’ He had softened, the look in his eyes almost pleading. ‘Youwillget there, I know it. If you like, I can sit down with a few pages and write some notes for you – how’s that? Play at editor, so that you know what needs to change. Don’t cry, darling, I thought you wanted to know .?.?.’

‘I did. And I’m not. Crying, I mean.’

He handed back the manuscript. She could feel him watching intently as she focused on smoothing down the pages and tried to regain control of herself.