Homework by Margot Livesey Read Free Book Online Page A

thinking I could at least leave a message, but for once he answered. His secretary was on holiday, he explained. I told him my news and he said, “That’s wonderful, Celia. Can I take you out to celebrate? Are you free this evening?”
    He sounded more enthusiastic about the prospect of seeing me than he had for months, and we arranged to meet at an Italian restaurant in Soho. I spent the remainder of the day busily at work in the city of my imagination; I erected substantial buildings with a speed that any contractor might envy. By the time I arrived at the Trattoria, I was convinced that Lewis would react with dismay, that he would save me from going to Edinburgh and from everything else.
    He was already seated at a corner table. As I approached he stood up and came to meet me. “Congratulations,” he said, kissing me on both cheeks.
    We sat down and a waiter, so thin as to be almost cadaverous, brought over an ice bucket. After a brief struggle he relinquished the champagne to Lewis, who uncorked and poured it with a flourish. “Here’s to you,” he said, raising his glass.
    Lewis was looking unusually handsome. He was wearing a dark blue shirt which deepened the colour of his eyes, and in the soft light of the restaurant his pale skin shone. Throughout dinner he questioned me assiduously. He had soon winkled out of me all the advantages of this new position. “It sounds wonderful,” he said. “I’ll have to come and visit you. I’ve always wanted to see Edinburgh.” He polished off the last of his veal and pushed his plate to one side.

    â€œAre you finished?” asked the waiter, looking at the heap of fettuccine on my plate. I nodded, and with an air of disapproval he cleared the table. “So you think I should take the job,” I said.
    â€œFrom everything you’ve told me, it would be mad not to. It’s a small company, you’ll have much more input, and you’ll be virtually your own boss. I’ve heard you complain dozens of times that working at Fredericks is a dead-end job, that there’s absolutely no possibility of promotion.” He emptied the remainder of the champagne into our glasses.
    â€œBut I don’t want to leave London,” I said. “Especially to go to Scotland. If it was Oxford, or even Bristol, that would be different, but Edinburgh is like the end of the world.”
    He put his hand over mine. “It’s not that far, Celia. You can fly up in an hour. Besides, you’re not talking about going forever, only for a couple of years, and then you can come back to London in all your glory and get a fantastic job. I remember before I went to Hong Kong, I felt like I was going to Botany Bay, but once I actually arrived it was fine, and I could never have got my present job without the experience I gained there.”
    â€œBut,” I said, forcing out the words, “I don’t want to leave my friends.”
    â€œYour friends don’t want you to leave,” Lewis said. He squeezed my hand and smiled. “We’ll all visit you, and you’ll visit us, and it won’t be for long. I’m delighted for you. Do you want coffee? Dessert?”
    Unable to speak, I shook my head. Lewis beckoned the waiter, and I excused myself. In the small pink cubicle of the ladies’ toilet I admonished myself not to cry. The broad avenues and lofty buildings of my imaginary city lay in ruins, and the tears I struggled to hold back stemmed as much from fury at my own stupidity as from grief. Even to me, it was abundantly plain that Lewis had not the slightest notion that our relationship could possibly constitute a reason for my
staying. I washed my hands and, in the absence of a towel, wiped them on my skirt.
    Â 
    Every aspect of moving to Edinburgh was made easy. In August, Bill’s assistant telephoned to tell me that the sales manager was going to do a training course in Glasgow for a year