Page 23

At least a starry summer night in the great court of Worcester college put a smile on Geeta’s face. What a relief. A work event, but Geeta rarely got to dress up and socialise somewhere as beautiful as this.

She looked out from beneath the stone arcade of the entrance, down onto the green lawn with marquee and dancefloor. Ancient cottages bordered the left side of the quad, and a magnificent North Range the right, and landscaped gardens ran into the night.

It was a nice distraction from barristers with dark, come-hither eyes.

Geeta checked in on food stalls around the edge of the cottages and servers pouring Champagne. Bentley’s partners and associates attended in their finest tuxedos and evening dress, including the seniors: Hugo in the main quad; Liz at the college gates to greet guests who were staff from Bentley, clients and others linked to the company; and Olivia circling the event in a long black dress, always elegant.

Look at her.

Olivia sauntered beneath the arcade arches towards her, and Geeta floated with pride.

“I’m leaving early this evening,” Olivia said. “But I wanted to check in with you.”

And a smile. Oh, my goodness.

It might seem understated, barely visible to others, but Geeta recognised it as huge in her daughter. More significantly, the smile beamed at her.

Love and guilt pounded in her chest all at once. She hadn’t spent extended time with her recently, Olivia busy with Kate and family, and Geeta honestly still fearful of how her daughter took Geeta and Sumit’s now-finalised divorce.

“Everything's ready,” Geeta said. “And you look beautiful,” she couldn’t help adding.

It was the kind of comment that made Olivia scowl, hating observations on her appearance as a teen, on anything in fact. But she said nothing this evening. She simply smiled and quietly stood alongside, close enough for Geeta to feel her presence as they gazed out over the court.

Don’t peek at her. Don’t say anything. Don't say how extraordinary and lovely this was. Geeta beamed at the gardens instead, sending all her appreciation of her daughter's company into the night.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, accompanied by a distinctive ping, and guilt struck again. The dating app. Now that had become more active since her new photo. The latest interest came from a man so much like Sumit she’d succumbed to waves of remorse. What was the point of breaking Sumit’s heart to run off with another quiet, obsessed academic in Oxford, who’d eventually tire of socialising with her, when Geeta needed company.

Whereas fooling around with Nicola, a little voice said, couldn't be more different.

“People are arriving now,” Olivia said. And she gave another of those subtle smiles. Just a curve in the lips, eyes relaxed and content, expression open. The one that maybe said she did love Geeta.

It made Geeta want to hug her to death, and tell her what an amazing child she’d been, and how she couldn’t love anyone more. Impossible. How damn proud of her she was. And she’d love her forever and ever and ever.

“If I don't see you later, have a nice evening with Kate,” Geeta said instead, her smile, which bordered on happy tears, saying everything that burst in her chest.

Right, she was ready. She smoothed down the long tunic of her black kurta set over slim-cut formal trousers. She felt smart but also dressed up, with gold earrings and the embroidered edging of her kurta adding a touch of luxury. She breathed in and swept back her hair, ready to face the evening.

The quad filled with smiling faces and laughter – Hugo’s deep guffaw with a group of older clients, Liz chuckling with them too, sparkling glasses of Champagne glinting in the mellow lantern light.

She circulated through the crowds, checking on drink supply, food stalls, sometimes being stopped by the odd client who recognised her from temping on reception. Music struck up from a small quintet, that Annie had organised from college musicians and that lent a harmonious backdrop to the evening.

She gently tugged on her daughter’s arm when she was free. “Is Charlotte here?”

“No. Still feeling sick with first trimester.”

“I hope that passes soon. I wanted to check she was OK.”

Another smile from Olivia. The same gentle one as before. And Geeta squeezed her arm and circled away to let her senior-partner daughter get on with her evening.

She didn’t know how Bentley evenings ran normally, but this seemed to be going well. She climbed the steps at the end of the cottages to join Annie, the events organiser, under an arch of the arcade that ran beneath the library and college entrance.

“Is there anything I can do at the moment?” Geeta asked.

Annie smiled and swished her long red hair over her shoulder.

“All running smoothly.” She checked her watch. “We’ll have dancing in an hour, after everyone’s settled in with drinks and food, but we can relax for now.”

Annie was, Geeta would say, in her thirties and experienced in her role. Very easy and reassuring to work with. She assumed she was queer or an ally from the rainbow badges she wore in her gown.

“Good.” Geeta stayed alongside as they cast a gaze over the evening.

Her pocket buzzed again. That app. She plucked out her phone and swiped away a notification, uncomfortable at anonymous internet people taking an interest in her.

“You OK?” Annie asked.

“Oh, yes,” She must have grimaced before. “I’ve started online dating, well trying, and,” she sighed, “it’s taking a bit of getting used to.”

“I tried apps, but I find meeting people through friends better for me.”

“Wish I could do the same, but all my friends and theirs are married.”

“Any luck so far?”

“The last match was too similar to my ex-husband. Although,” she laughed, “I’m hearing from lots of women, all kinds of ages too.”

She hadn’t been fussy about age range, anticipating her own would be self-selecting, and had been amazed by the broad range of people interested.

“I didn’t know you were queer,” Annie said, voice higher, as if pleasantly surprised.

Geeta paused at being called that so easily when she feared she didn't have a right to the identity yet. Then she checked herself. Her feelings were clear enough.

“Yes, I am,” she said with quiet confidence.

“Hey.” Annie puzzled for a minute, looking skywards. “I’ve thought of someone you might like. You know casually, friends, maybe more. No pressure.”

Annie scrolled her phone before Geeta could answer. Then they both must have felt or heard it.

A change in the atmosphere of the party. Faces in the quad peering towards the entrance. Shuffling beneath the arcade as people made way for someone. And heels. She’d recognise those heels and that stride anywhere.

“What’s going on?” Annie said, looking up from her phone.

You know what, Geeta had an inkling. She closed her eyes and tried not to growl. Whose entrance created a stir like that? Who would she bump into again and again?

“Holy shit,” Annie gasped. Then she covered her mouth. “Sorry, but who is that?”

Geeta rolled her eyes before turning to search for the inevitable.

“That,” she said, convinced of whose entrance made everyone turn, “is...”

Then she almost exclaimed the same.

Because evening-Nicola, party-Nicola-Albright, was something else. That dress. Those legs. Oh my god, that chest as well. That was a power dress that celebrated Nicola from head to toe. Bright ruby, with a cut that had merciless respect for her shoulders and none for those who saw her. It lifted her chest and afforded a tantalising glimpse of long shapely legs with every stride into the quad. Chin up, hair flowing, legs eating up the ground with every stride. Geeta wanted to cover her eyes to stop the potency.

Annie gawped.

“That,” Geeta sighed, “is Nicola Albright.”

“Albright?” Annie whipped her head round. “Did you say Albright?”

“Nicola Albright, KC? You might have met her daughter, Charlotte?”

Annie slumped. “Yes, I have.” Then she turned to gaze along the arcade. “Another Albright,” she groaned.

She wondered what Annie alluded to but was distracted by chatter nearby.

“Next head of chambers at Bernard’s place if word is on the money,” a man said to companions. “That organisation needs a shake up too.”

Nicola’s progress into the night was slowed by two women, then Hugo wanting to catch a word. All eyes lingered on Nicola with awe, respect and plain adulation. In this company of lawyers and business clients, Nicola was queen.

Geeta turned away, determined not to look. She didn’t want to gawp with the same obvious wide-eyed admiration.

Except those heels became louder, and she watched Annie's eyes get bigger, until the heels and presence stopped close by, and she felt Nicola’s arrival with her whole body.

Geeta breathed in. “Nicola,” she said, swinging round to...oooohhhh. Even more breathtaking close up.

Nicola worked with everything she had, and she had a lot. Geeta appreciated that more and more.

The woman was walking pheromones this evening, and when Nicola’s gaze swept across Geeta’s mouth, she felt the kiss it intimated.

A lick of the lips. The sound of them smacking open.

“Good evening, Geeta,” purred the reply. “You look exquisite.”

The nerve of the woman. Only Nicola would pay a compliment to wind her up.

“Thank you, Nicola,” Geeta replied, raising her chin. “You are stunning of course.”

“Appreciated. But you’re clearly the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Annie’s eyes followed the conversation back and forth.

“It’s very kind of you,” Geeta managed through gritted teeth. Because, what was Nicola playing at? Her tone could be any and all of mocking, complimentary, seductive and provocative. And she carried it off with swaggering aplomb.

“Are you two trying to fight...” Annie’s frown deepened, “...with compliments?”

Bickering already it seemed. So, nowhere near resolved about her opinion of Nicola and the latest insight.

“I’m not fighting at all.” Nicola smiled. “Merely pointing out that Geeta is always the most beautiful in the room.”

Geeta’s mouth dropped open. How did Nicola give her flattery, in a way that also made Geeta want to kill her. Oh my god. No-one else. Literally no-one else did this to her.

“We’ve known each other a long time,” Geeta said, as an explanation to wide-eyed Annie. “Nicola’s always playing some sort of game.”

“No games,” Nicola said. She shrugged her shoulders, with the charm and power of a deadly panther.

“I...” Annie tried to swallow, while gazing at Nicola as if happy to throw herself into the panther’s path.

But Nicola’s gaze bored into Geeta's, not bothering to notice the adoration from others.

“I’m going to organise the dancing,” Annie managed, and moved to go. “Oh, remind me to set you up on a date,” she said to Geeta, then finally left.

She wished Annie hadn’t raised the issue in present company.

Nicola drew closer, her scent slightly different tonight. A sharper tone of cedar and perhaps jasmine added to the mix. Definitely an edge.

“So.” Nicola tilted her head. “How’s dating going? Find any women to kiss?”

No, because anonymous people online hadn't tempted her like Nicola, who stood there with more irresistible and visceral reality than any profile on a dating app. She smelled of vanilla and cinnamon and fire, and tension smouldered between them.

“Not yet,” Geeta replied calmly. “And you?

Nicola’s lips curled. “Also, not yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll find some willing colleague.”

A more serious look this time.

“Oh, come on,” Geeta said. She couldn't help hands flying to her hips. “You must notice how they look at you.”

Nicola stepped closer, the scent of flames engulfing Geeta.

“Yes, I have,” Nicola replied, although quiet this time, her voice solely for Geeta. “But I don’t give it a second thought. Because I’m only looking at one person.”

And those deadly eyes gazed into Geeta’s with longing.

It was her. Nicola meant her. There was no doubt.

“Do you know that?” Nicola murmured.

Geeta’s heart fluttered. Because nothing pulled at her so strongly as Nicola saying a few soft words. As if she didn’t toy with her. As if her yearning was genuine. As if Nicola was the one entrapped and helplessly attracted.

And they stared at each other, in the lantern light beneath the arcade.