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The sun streams through the window in my bedroom, the warmth of it brings a smile to my face. I pull back the covers as I wince, the pounding in my head increasing, -thanks to last night's champagne- as I plot to make time today to explore the grounds of the University. Unfortunately for me, the embarrassing memories of last night swim to the surface. It had certainly been more of a minefield than I’d anticipated. The conversations flowed like a dead language; skiing in the alps, talks of buying low and selling high... Who knew these were even a thing for a bunch of 19/20 year olds to be so accustomed too? It made my head spin. One girl talked about her fathers next political manoeuvre, like he was moving house.
I listen carefully as I stretch my arms to see if Cora is up yet, but I don’t hear movement behind the secret door. Today was orientation, officially the beginning of solving my problems. I had flutters of excitement mixed with a healthy dose of anxiety as I headed over to the wardrobe to find something suitable to wear.
No Jeans or T-shirts here. I mused. Another reason why my training from professor Daphne couldn’t come soon enough, I had to learn how to dress myself sooner or later right? I’m also sure that if I have to attend one more fancy arse dinner with no training, Grenvilles warning about being eaten alive would be happening sooner than I'd expected.
It's only a matter of time before the sharks in this place smell blood. While I might’ve been able to somewhat fool Sebastian, I know that Grenville didn’t buy my act at all.
My phone pings from the bedside table, an eerie sense of dread washes over me. I pray it’s mum, please be her checking in and wanting the gossip. But as I pick it up and see the name my stomach drops. Of course it’s him. How stupid of me to think that I could move hours away and not be hounded by Frankie on my very first day.
“I need a favour.” The message reads, of course he does, what else would he possibly want. Before I can reply, telling him to kindly fuck off, the phone rings. I take in a deep breath before I answer.
“What do you want?” It comes out hoarse, my throat is dry as hell. Champagne hangover is not the one.
“Baby sister, that’s no way to greet your knight in shining armour now is it.”
It’s only been a few weeks since I last spoke to him, but his accent seems thicker than before.
“Did you get my text?” straight to the point it is then.
“Yes, about thirty seconds ago. What do you want?” I can’t help the sigh escaping at the end.
“There’s a package arriving for you today. It won’t make it past the crazy security checks your place has but I need you to get your hands on it and keep it hidden for me.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Always involving me in your stupid schemes. No, I’ll send it back, I’m not keeping anything for you here. They do room searches here you know!” Okay that was a lie, but today was my first day, I couldn’t be seen running around hiding secret packages for Frankie. I need to make a good impression for fuck sake.
“You will get the package and you will keep it there for me until I can collect it. Or do you want me showing up to meet all your new posh friends?”
The thought of my two worlds colliding almost makes me vomit. The last thing I need is Frankie showing up here, I’m sure the people here have enough questions about me.
“How the fuck am I supposed to get this parcel? I got here yesterday. I don't even know where they put the mail,” I whisper-shout back, as I hear movement in the room next to mine.
“Figure it out baby sister, both our necks are on the line here. Don’t let anyone find it, do you understand?” His tone shifts and it sets me on edge, as much as I despise helping him right now, I know he’ll do anything to protect me.
“Okay, I’ll get it. What’s in the package? Are you in trouble?” I say quietly. He sighs and I can almost see his inner battle through the phone. I know he’s all that stands in the way of the Birmingham underground coming to snatch me from my duck feather bed.
“Don’t open it. The less you know the better if this all goes tits up.”
I close my eyes as I say, “Leave it to me, I’ll figure it out.”
The line cuts, no goodbyes.
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“DID YOU BRING SOMEONE back with you last night?” Cora asks, yawning as we arrive at our first lecture after picking up my jam packed schedule from Professor Daphne’s office. No visits to the lake today.
“No, why?”.
“I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone.”
Shit.
“Oh, that was just my mum, calling to get all the gossip from last night.” I’m shit at lying, I can only hope she hasn’t had enough caffeine to notice my tell tale signs.
“Oh, are you close?” she asks, but I lie again. I don’t know her well enough to unburden my family drama onto her yet. When is a good time to tell a stranger that you’re Mafia royalty?
“Yeah, very.” My answer is clearly a little too blunt as her eyes narrow slightly.
“Do you think we’ll have time to go wherever they keep the post before our politics lecture? Mums sent me a care package of all my favourite snacks.” I try to ramble on enough to annoy her so she’s eager to change the subject.
“No way, we don’t want to risk being late to Professor Carr’s lecture. That man is brutal at the best of times, don’t give him a reason to hate you.”
The vast, musty auditorium quickens my pulse as I marvel at the size of the lecture hall. Cora suggests a seat near the back, which I'm grateful for. The less judgy eyes on me the better. As I watched the other students file in, the sense of entitlement and privilege overwhelmed me. The outfit I’d chosen suddenly felt too exposing for a first day. A beige, calf length dress with a panel of black travelling down the front of the dress, making the gold buttons stand to attention. I had gone for flat beige pumps to match and I thought Cora was about to slap me as I slung my old backpack over my shoulder. Before she could say anything- I told her that none of the ridiculous bags in that wardrobe would fit my textbooks in, let alone a laptop.
I busy myself getting everything I need out of my backpack and placing it on the wooden bench that circles the top of the auditorium, when I feel a prickling sensation up the back of my neck. There’s only one person I know that gets that kind of reaction from my body. Everyone around us falls silent, I focus my eyes on the stage dead ahead.
I can feel his death glare on me, I school my features into a look of boredom. Despite my body screaming at me to run out of the room.
“Um, Lou... why is Benjamin Grenville staring at you like he’s about to break every bone in your body?” Cora whispers to me out of the side of her mouth. I don’t dare to turn my head.
“I don’t know, he hates me! We danced last night and... let’s just say it was an experience I do not want to repeat,” I mutter. Then to my utter dismay, my view of the stage is blocked by the dickhead himself. He sits right in front of me, obscuring my view completely. I clench my fists until my knuckles turn white, why does he insist on being an arsehole?
Cora and I exchange a glance, the inner workings of Benjamin Grenville are at the bottom of my concern list right now. Surely this guy couldn’t be this petty? It’s probably all in my head. I turn my focus to Professor Carr as he begins introducing himself- not that I can see him around the enormous man in front of me.
I keep trying to crane my neck around him but he seems to shift in his seat every time I do. I press my fingernails into the palm of my hand to stop myself ripping this guy's head off. This is going to be a long two hours.
The lecture starts and no amount of research could have prepared me for this level of politics. Everyone’s spewing out names that I’ve never heard of. I've ditched the laptop in favour of a notebook at this point because I cannot type fast enough to get all this information down.
“Now, let's move onto debate preparation. Be ready to disarm your opponent with words. Physical Fighting in the house of commons means you will hand in your resignation with no arguments, unless of course you don’t value your career at all. Now can I have a volunteer please?” I sink into my seat a little lower as he scans the sea of faces like his eyes are some kind of x-ray machine.
“Mr. Grenville, your silence is deafening. Why don’t you come up here and show us exactly why your father is the best of the best.” Murmurs of anticipation ripple through the other students as their eyes are glued to his every move as he takes his place behind the podium on the right side of the stage. He stands tall and confident. There's nothing casual about his intimidating stance, he’s clearly done this before. No doubt trained since birth.
“As it’s your first day, Mr. Grenville. I will allow you to choose your opponent. But next week, you will all be assigned your partners by me. Before I send you out to be in charge of the country, I have to prepare you for any possible curveball’s opposing political parties might throw at you.”
My stomach drops, please don’t pick me. But my silent plea’s fall on deaf ears as he calls my name through the microphone on top of the podium.
“I choose Miss Garrick as my opponent today, Professor.” I swallow hard and turn in bewilderment to Cora, but she’s just as dumbfounded as I am. She straightens in her seat and nods at me encouragingly.
“Just think about all those useless facts you know, that will throw him off!” She whispers as she hurries me to stand. I smooth down my dress as I do, plucking what little self confidence I have left out of me as I walk quickly down the stairs and towards the stage. I catch Professor Carr's eye as I approach the podium, he gives me a sympathetic smile as I take my place.
“Mr. Grenville. You will represent the Blues. Miss Garrick. You will represent the Greens. I trust you are both up to scratch on each party's current manifesto?”
No.
“Yes, sir.” I say confidently. Grenville only answers him with a nod.
“Let’s debate the rising crime rate in Britain. Begin.” Professor Carr gestures to him, as he takes a seat directly in front of me. My mouth dries, the auditorium is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I take a few shaky breaths and use the podium to keep myself upright as I begin to search through the information I have stored away in my head. I turn to face Grenville, trying to get a gauge on how he’s about to approach this, to see if that picturesque statue has faltered under the pressure of a thousand eyes. He glances my way and the world dissipates as I'm lost in those hateful eyes. It was then that I knew an attack was imminent.
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BY THE TIME THE HUMILIATION ends, I’m left questioning what the fuck our political system even is and mentally prepare myself for a date with Google when I get back to my room.
He’d meet every single one of my points with a coy, backhanded answer. Every time I went on offence mode he’d deflect like a pro. It was like he could read my mind. God I’d have to try and dive into some psychology books on how to read non verbal communication. The only positive that came out of the horrific ordeal, was that I knew it would be a few weeks before it happened again. Next time I would make sure I was prepared for him, or whoever else might take up the job as torturer for the day.
“That was fucking awful to watch Lou, I mean really awful. Why did he lay into you like that on your first day? Do you need me to walk you to the Post room?” Cora asks delicately as we head around the corner of the corridor.
“No it’s okay, I think I can find it. Thank you though. I’ll meet you in Debutant Training,” I say as I give her a quick smile before I scurry off. I have exactly 15 minutes before my next lesson and I already know I should be jogging to the other side of the University if I’m going to make it.
All of my rage from the previous lesson fuels my walking speed. I'm thankful that nobody can see me gasping for breath, as I reach the door to the portal room. When I walk in, I’m greeted by a very old, very stoic woman. She’s impeccably dressed like the rest of the staff and her designer half moon glasses hang on the edge of her poker straight nose. She assesses me in more ways than one as I approach the desk, one of her eyes slightly twitching as her gaze falls on my backpack.
“Um, hi. Parcel for Louisa Garrick please?”
She turns on her heel, frustratingly slow and starts running her bony fingers down the cubby holes looking for my name. I tap my foot against the stone floor, counting down the minutes I have left to dump the parcel securely back in my room and make it to my first lesson on how to be a lady. Finally, after what seems like an age, she brings it over and slams it down onto her giant desk with a heavy hand. I don’t know what I was expecting but it isn’t this, the package is tiny! I instantly regret telling Cora it was a care package from home because what the fuck could you fit in here.
“Thank you, have a good day,” I say, still staring at the parcel.
“A girl like you should be careful around here,” the old lady says.
My curiosity peaks and the old woman's tone.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see soon,” she says, before turning her back on me. This place gets stranger by the minute. With my eyes still on the package I start walking out of the postal room and back into the grand arched hallway.
Pulling out my phone, I send Frankie a text letting him know I’ve got it, when my head collides with a muscular body and sends me arse over tit onto the floor.
“Jesus, Garrick! Can’t you watch where you’re going?!” The cold voice that just berated me for two hours is all too familiar. Of course it’s him, who fucking else would it be?
“Are you following me or something?” I spit out as I pick myself up and grab my bag off the floor, avoiding his stare at all costs.
“As if I’d find something like you interesting enough to follow.”
I try not to show that his words sting, “Fuck off, Grenville. I’ve had enough of your insults for one day.” My accent is out in full force now, all pretence of being lady-like out the window. This man is infuriating, I’ve been here for one day and he’s done nothing but torment me, for what? What is this guy's issue?!
“Oooh, the little Birmingham bitch has some bite. What a shame you couldn’t put that vulgar mouth of yours to better use earlier.” I stand as tall as I can but barely come up to his chin. “Insult me again and you’ll see just how hard I can bite. Or was my threat last night not enough for you? Your attitude towards women is disgusting and just because your name is on the fucking building, does not mean you can call me a bitch and get away with it!” I bare my teeth a little on that last word.
I watch his tongue run across the inside of his cheek as he slowly closes the gap between us more. I take a step back not wanting him in my personal space, but he just keeps walking until my back is pressed up against the postal room door. He braces his arms against the wall on either side of me, trapping me beneath his hard body. I swallow my fear and keep eye contact with him.
“I think you’ll find that I have the utmost respect for women, some would even go so far as to call it devotion or worship.”
His eyes flash down to my lips as a million thoughts race through my head making it impossible to pick just one single train of thought. I try not to focus on the one in which I fantasise of all the ways he DOES worship women. My breath catches as he licks his lips and leans in even closer, is he about to kiss me? What the fuck is happening? Grenville cocks an eyebrow and gives me a devilish smirk that would rival my brothers.
So many emotions. I don’t want to be trapped here like this, vulnerable with a man that clearly despises me. However, a part of me, some disgusting part of me that’s no doubt completely hormone related, enjoys it. My world is engulfed in his expensive musky cologne, and fresh cotton clothes. His eyes are what do it for that traitorous part of me the most, those sexy smouldering silver eyes.
Finally, sense snaps back into me, like a bucket of cold water. I push him away as hard as I can, he doesn’t move much, he just laughs at my attempt which only makes me angrier. He moves out of my space and tucks his hands into his checked trouser pockets, the most human gesture I think I’ve seen him do.
“Stay the fuck away from me.” I mean to say it reasonably quiet but of course it comes out in an embarrassing shriek. I gather myself and run, as fast as humanly possible, ignoring his booming laughter, back the way I came, towards the next form of torture this school has to offer- Debutant Lessons.