The Bellwether Revivals by Benjamin Wood Read Free Book Online Page B

we
both
got punished.’
    ‘Hey, what about the time you Tipp-Exed the whole of “Kubla Khan” on the common room wall?’ Yin said. ‘That was classic.’
    ‘You could’ve got expelled for that,’ Iris said. ‘Dad didn’t think it was so funny.’
    ‘He has no sense of humour. They were never going to kick
me
out.’ Eden leaned back, satisfied with himself. ‘I was practically running the Oratorio Choir for them, I seem to recall.’
    ‘And anyway, what kind of idiot thinks Coleridge is graffiti?’ said Marcus. ‘They should have thanked you for elevating the décor.’
    ‘My point exactly.’
    One school story was regaled after another, and for the first time all night, Oscar began to feel genuinely excluded. He was drawn to the urbaneness of their lives, their refinement and culture, but he just couldn’t find a way into their discussion, no matter how hard he tried to interject. They were pulling memories from a private source, from some reservoir of experiences they’d all shared. All he could do was sit there and listen, and watch Iris as she laughed along, telling her own anecdotes about ‘midnightbridge club’ and swimming regattas. For a while, she barely even looked at him. If she asked him a question directly, it was only to confirm something she already knew: ‘Isn’t that the most hilarious thing you’ve ever heard? Oscar, isn’t that just brilliant?’ The more they talked, the more disconnected he felt.
    They were like a family. They called each other pet names: ‘Edie’, ‘Iggy’, ‘Yinny’, ‘Janey’ (only Marcus seemed left out in this regard, though Yin once called him ‘Em’). They teased each other, correcting Marcus when he mispronounced a word, and goading Yin by asking which country was most doomed: one with a flagging NHS, or one with a thriving NRA? Oscar knew he couldn’t compete with this kind of friendship. He had never been as close to anyone as they were with each other. It gave him a despairing feeling in his stomach, like stumbling on a crowded pavement. His attention began to wander.
    Iris must have noticed. She turned to him and said: ‘Oh, this is probably so boring for you. I’m sorry.’ Her smile seemed to lighten the space between them all at once. ‘We always do this—end up talking about the old days. And then we wonder why nobody wants to spend any time with us.’
    ‘I’m a bit lost, that’s all,’ he said. ‘I mean, it sounds like some of you were at school together and some of you weren’t. How do you all know each other?’
    It was Jane who spoke up. Her voice was prim, gravelled. ‘Marcus and Eden met at prep—the King’s school. They were both in the chorister programme until they were, what, twelve, thirteen? It’s
such
a demanding programme they have there; every boy has to learn about five instruments and rehearse with the choir eight hours a day. Can you imagine? I’d go spare.’
    ‘It wasn’t so bad really,’ Eden said.
    Jane continued: ‘They met Yin later, at Charterhouse. The three of them were Gownboys.’ Yin raised his glass and nodded proudly. ‘And I boarded with Iris at St Mary’s. I’m sure we didn’t mean to end up at Cambridge together, but here we all are. TheBellwethers and the flock.’ Jane smiled, revealing a small gap between her front teeth.
    ‘I think you just called us all sheep again,’ Marcus said. ‘I hate it when you do that.’
    Eden reached for one of the wine bottles that were standing at his feet and went about uncorking it. ‘Alright, I’ve got a better story for you, and not about the old days,’ he said. ‘This one’s about Oscar.’ He began filling up everyone’s glasses, and when he reached Oscar, he tilted his head and winked. ‘You should tell them how
we
came to meet.’
    Oscar shifted in his seat, head still woozy. ‘God, I don’t think I can remember.’
    ‘I heard it already,’ Marcus said. ‘You were flirting with Iris outside the chapel.’
    ‘He