Page 74 of Infamous

‘I don’t know,’ Eddie said, utterly miserable. ‘He said he was going to help me. You know, with all the problems in my writing. Before my manuscript goes to his editor.’

Rose snorted. ‘Problems? What problems?’

‘He is a famous poet, Rose, you cannot pretend he is some talentless hack just because he was rude to you – he wasdreadful, I know, it was unforgivable, but the editor has been harassing him, and his ceiling had just fallen in—’

‘He is not without talent, I will grant him that, but heisentirely without tact, grace, good manners or a fully functioning moral compass, and I find those to be key attributes I look for in the company I keep. And .?.?. and your writing does not haveproblems.None that you cannot work out by yourself, anyhow. You always have done so before.’

But Rose didn’t understand. If Eddie went back to London now, Nash might never forgive her. All the help he had promised her – the connections, his editor – she couldn’t squander it now when she was so close. And besides .?.?. she didn’t actuallywantto leave yet. He was difficult, yes, but Rose was wrong on one point – therewasa sort of magic to Nash; all things were made possible in his presence. Besides, as Rose herself had pointed out many times, Bede House was its own world apart, and Eddie wasn’t ready to return to the harsh reality of London.

‘Just stay until Christmas,’ Eddie attempted. ‘I shall be returning to town then, and we can go together. I am entirely sure that Nash feels like an enormous ass right now, and is trying to find some eloquent way to apologise profusely.’

‘If you earnestly believe that, you are in more danger than I thought,’ Rose said, pulling her dresses from the wardrobe and setting about folding those, too. ‘God, everything smells so dreadful. You really will rot if you stay here.’

‘I know.’

Eddie fingered the bedclothes, which were freezing to the touch. The thought of the house without Rose filled her with a heavy sort of melancholy, but perhaps she could convince herself that it was for the best. She supposed it might be a little easier to focus, without Rose around.

She might spend less time thinking about kissing her, for one thing.

Rose glanced over at her, and her expression softened; she put down the shawl she was holding and sat next to Eddie on the bed.

‘I know this has all been very exciting, Ed. And you do like to get caught up in things like this. Adventures. Schemes. You throw yourself in without looking, wholeheartedly and pig-headedly. But don’t you think the fun is over, now? Is it not time to go back to the real world?’

‘Thisisthe real world. Or .?.?. it could be. If I take this chance. If I get it right. It’s everything I have ever wanted, Rose.’

‘Really?’ said Rose, her nose wrinkling. ‘This?’

‘Well, notthisexactly, but what comes afterwards. I don’t know how to explain it to you. You are content to justbe, but I .?.?. I feel like if I stop trying to make it as a writer, to make something ofmyself, I will simply keel over and die.’

Rose considered her, frowning.

‘You are a halfwit,’ she said eventually. ‘Firstly, because you have been convinced to doubt yourself when you are in fact enormously talented, with or without that man’s help. Secondly, because there aremanyother ways to live a life worth living and to share your stories, even if you never end up on anyone’s shelf but mine, where you shall always have pride of place. Andthirdly—’

‘I know I am a halfwit,’ Eddie grumbled. ‘There is no need to make an itemised list.’

‘Nash Nicholson is not your friend, Ed. And he did not bring you here because he believed in you as a writer. He invited you without reading a word you’d written, because he liked the look of you, and because he wanted somebody to gaze at him in awe every time he opened his mouth. I know what caring about Eddie Miller looks like, believe me, and this is .?.?. not it.’

‘Now you’re being cruel.’

‘Me, cruel? Eddie, I have never seen you quite so down on yourself. Canyounot see it? All that has happened since you came here is that you feellessconfident in your abilities. You have hardly even picked a fight with me for a week, and that is terribly unlike you.’ Rose smiled, but it was obviously a strain, and she quickly gave up on it. ‘I thought this was supposed to be fun.’

‘It was. It is. It just became a lot more .?.?. complicated.’

‘Come home with me, then,’ Rose said.

This time she did tentatively reach for Eddie’s hand. They used to touch all the time, Eddie thought distantly, without it meaning anything at all. It used to be commonplace. Now she felt Rose’s fingers interlace with hers and only wanted to pull her closer. The intensity of her gaze was too much, tooloadedfor Eddie to meet head-on.

‘The longer you stay here,’ Rose continued, ‘the more likely Mrs Nicholson is to lose her temper and start telling tales about you in London. What if somebody tells your parents? What if they discover what’s really been going on? You should come home before it’s too late.’

Rose had a point, but it was the last thing Eddie wanted to hear; it only reminded her thatpolite societyawaited in London, and she could not think of anything worse.

Rose would have a wedding to plan, and Eddie would have to watch her do it. Dinners would now be at Albert’s house, likely with a lap full of rabbits. Rose would sit with other married ladies at parties and talk about things like home-making and upholstery, and even the Millers might raise eyebrows atMrs Rednockclambering into their treehouse for a tipple.

Besides, Eddie could hardly go home and pretend she had never met Nash at all; he, too, would return to London eventually. She already knew that she would be desperate for an invitation to his house so that they could resume their friendship, and devastated if one never came. He had changed her; given her hopes and expectations she never would have dared entertain before. It was dangerous, enticing – and completely addictive. She thought of herself sitting at home, writing stories just to entertain Rose, performing them to her family and then putting them away in a drawer. It seemed impossible to bear.

‘It’s already too late,’ she said eventually.

Rose retracted her hand and got up to continue packing, and all Eddie could do was sit uselessly and watch.