The wanderer, p.5
The Wanderer, page 5
And for reasons Lizzy couldn’t explain, Dean Desmond’s face came to her mind.
As the new week rolled around, Lizzy felt a mixture of relief and anxiety. The burden of the field trip had left her shoulders but a new concern had taken its place. Whenever she walked through campus between classes or headed over to the History Department she was terrified of bumping into the Dean. Lizzy kept thinking about the threat he’d made. It replayed in her head like a short horror film, but sometimes the ending would change. Sometimes rather than blackmail her with her expulsion, the Dean would dash his desk clean, lift Lizzy up on it and passionately kiss her. Shit. How could she be so attracted to someone so inexcusably rude? She didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of her daydreams, especially when he held her dream to Oxford in the palm of his hand. Besides, there was too much to prepare for. She didn’t need that distraction … or negativity.
Lizzy’s favorite study nook, in the east wing of the library, was consistently available that week. She saw it as a good sign, and was making a draft attempt on the scholarship application when her friend, Kim, came by.
“Elizabeth, how have you been?!”
Kim was a tall, lanky girl with an incredible red mane of hair, which she would toss over her shoulder like a fashion accessory. You could always hear Kim before seeing her, as Kim’s infectious laugh would travel through the campus along with her countless number of friends. Somehow Lizzy was lucky enough to be one of them. They had met in Orientation Week back in first year and shared a lot in common. For instance, her family lived close to Bentham and they also pushed her to change her degree to one of the “professional tickets”—that’s what Lizzy and Kim nicknamed them, degrees that set a student up for a professional career. A ticket to yuppie success, be it commerce, law or engineering.
“Hey, Kim. I’m doing fine.” Lizzy slapped her laptop lid shut and slid it to the side.
“You’re still studying in this corner? Doesn’t your back get sore sitting on the ground like that?”
“Not really.”
Kim chuckled. “My body couldn’t handle it. I can barely keep my legs crossed for ten minutes. I think I’m getting old.”
“C’mon, we’re only third-years. There’s still a way to go until we require Zimmer Frames and weekly pillboxes.”
Kim grabbed a chair and sat down beside Lizzy. “True. But the amount of vitamins I’m taking at the moment, I might as well invest in a pillbox. All this drinking is doing nothing for my insides. Speaking of which, I’m having a party at my parents’ place after finals. You should come!”
Lizzy rolled her eyes. Here she goes again.
“I haven’t seen you out in ages!”
“I go out … on occasion.”
Kim folded her arms. “Oh, yeah? I think Joe is keeping you hostage in that little two-bedroom box of yours.”
“He’s not keeping me hostage.” Kim had never accepted that Joe and Lizzy were completely platonic. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Ah, right!” Kim face-palmed. “The first-years’ field trip. How is the planning going?”
“It was going fine until the Dean canceled it.”
She shook her head. “I heard through the grapevine that someone pulled it. Didn’t know the new Dean himself was responsible and I’d hoped it wasn’t true.” Kim beckoned Lizzy to lean in. “I also heard he’s is a total babe. Like, out-of-this-world, take-me-I’m-yours hot. Tell me that’s not a rumor?”
“I didn’t see what the big deal was when I met him,” shrugged Lizzy.
Kim pouted. “What a shame. Could have done with a delicious diversion this semester. My grades are looking as sad as my parents, accepting for the first time that I won’t be an accountant.”
“That’s progress!”
“How about yours?”
Lizzy thought back to dinner and Brent’s hurtful words … still raw. Her face was clearly readable.
“Let’s change the subject,” Kim said quickly.
“You keen to head to class now?”
“Shit!” She face-palmed again. “I completely forgot to read my notes on the Battle of … um …”
“Battle of Waterloo?”
“Yeah! The ABBA song.” She jumped from her chair and started dancing around Lizzy, singing, “Waterloo couldn’t escape if I wanted to…!” She was interrupted by an aggressive “shh!” from across the room.
“Sorry!” Kim whispered back. “Let’s go learn some Georgian History.”
They skipped out of the library, while Kim continued humming the ABBA classic.
Lizzy and Kim went to take their usual spot up the back of the lecture theatre but were stopped short by an unfamiliar face.
“Who’s that girl?” Kim whispered in Lizzy’s ear.
“Not sure ... never seen her before.”
Lizzy could tell the stranger had clearly heard them, but she pretended not to pay any attention. She sat up straight, blonde hair tucked up in a tidy bun and her head held high on a delicate neck.
“Let’s just sit over here.” Lizzy gestured to the seats beside the girl and she coughed awkwardly as they shuffled in front of her.
“Pardon us,” Kim said and made a gesture to Lizzy that read “pompous prude.” She bit her lip to hold back laughter. The girl remained as still as a porcelain doll.
They took their seats and flipped their laptops open, getting ready for class. The girl took out a pad of elegant writing paper from her satchel and undid the top on her fountain pen.
“Wow, lovely stationery.”
She looked at Lizzy as if she’d just insulted her then blinked back toward the front of the class.
“That’s one ice-cold-” Kim whispered but Lizzy nudged her to silence when the Professor walked in.
History 307: Late Georgia Era was taught by Professor Stevens, except this time she had a guest with her and Lizzy’s stomach dropped when she saw him …
“Good afternoon, class. Before we begin, I would like to introduce you to the new Dean of History.”
The whole class quieted. He was even more attractive than Lizzy remembered. His shoulders barely fit into the white shirt he wore and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his muscular forearms. His shirt was tucked into dark-blue trousers, and classic gray suspenders hoisted his pants around his toned mid-section, leaving little to the imagination down below ...
Lizzy had to stare away but caught Kim silently mouthing, “Oh, my God!”
He completely dazzled every girl in the lecture theatre, including Ice Princess with the fancy-pants writing set. She craned her long neck to get a good look at him and smiled softly.
“Ahem.” Professor Stevens cleared her throat to bring the class to attention. “The rumors are true. Professor Woods has decided to start a new chapter of her life. She has retired from education and will now pursue green-fingered endeavours in her backyard and take up a life of gardening.” She chuckled at her own joke but no one was interested.
“Remind me how you don’t see what the big deal is?” Kim asked under her breath.
“But we are delighted to have some new blood in the department and I would like you all to join me in welcoming Dean Phillip Desmond.”
The whole class clapped and he lifted a hand to signal his thanks. “I feel very privileged to be taking over the position. I will do my best to fill Professor Woods’ shoes and continue pursuing her interests, while introducing new ones.”
Phillip’s eyes scanned the room. “For instance, I would like you all to say hello to Susanna Parker. She is one of the students from the exchange program that the department is launching.” Phillip gestured to Ice Princess and she twiddled her fingers in a modest wave. “Susanna is from Steventon, UK, and has shown real talent in Georgia History.”
“How wonderful!” Professor Stevens beammed. “Welcome, Susanna. We have an exam in a week’s time, contributing to twenty percent of your final grade. Perhaps there is a student who would be kind enough to lend Susanna their notes? Elizabeth?”
Kim nudged Lizzy.
“Hmm?”
“Perhaps you could offer your notes to—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Susanna interrupted in a frosty tone.
“I don’t mind,” Lizzy replied.
“I said I don’t need them.”
Professor Stevens cleared her throat, “Ah, we’ve covered quite a lot of material, Susanna. It might be helpful—”
“Really, Professor, I won’t be needing them.”
“Jeez, just take my notes.” Lizzy turned to face her, getting rather frustrated by her bitterness. “It’s not a problem.”
She opened her mouth to say something but Phillip interrupted her before she had a chance,
“Susanna ...” His voice was firm and he eyed her conspicuously.
She cleared her throat and turned to Lizzy. “Thank you. Your notes would be wonderful.” She gave Lizzy a fake smile.
“Excellent. Now, that’s all settled, who can tell me when the Battle of Waterloo began?” Professor Stevens asked the class.
Lizzy went to answer but Susanna cut her off.
“June 18, 1815.”
“Correct, Susanna. And who can tell me the location of Waterloo?”
“Netherlands but it is present-day Belgium.” Susanna beat Lizzy to it again.
Susanna looked at her with her nose turned up and Lizzy clutched her seat, fighting back the urge to strangle that tiny neck of hers.
Professor Stevens looked surprised, “Well, I’m impressed. Perhaps you don’t need Elizabeth’s notes after all, Susanna.”
Susanna shrugged as if to say I told you so.
“And finally, who were the commanders of the French Army?”
Lizzy waited for Susanna to pipe up but she seemed to hesitate.
“Ah, it was Napoleon ... um—”
“Napoleon Bonaparte and Michel Ney,” Lizzy interrupted.
Susanna shot her a glare and Lizzy crossed her arms. Two can play this game. Kim extended her hand under the table for a low five, and as Lizzy smacked it she saw Phillip staring at her. Was he trying to hide a smile?
“Thank you for the introduction, Professor Stevens.” Phillip Desmond broke the intensity between Susanna and her. “I am sure there will be opportunity in the future to get to know you all—perhaps some of you more than others. But please come by my office if you would like a personal ‘hello’.”
“Yes, please,” Kim muttered and Lizzy saw the other girls in the class whisper to their friends. How could he stand all this attention? Surely he knew the effect he had on everyone in this room?
“And if you do come across the other students from the exchange program, please make them feel welcome.” He gave Stevens a nod and turned to leave the lecture theatre, adding to the class, “Also, good luck with the exam … if I were you I would be asking for Elizabeth Grace’s notes as well.”
The entire class turned to look at Lizzy and she shrank in her chair.
As he left the room the air was light and even Professor Stevens was discretely fanning herself.
“Yes, class, we have some extensive work to get through today. If you haven’t done your reading on the Battle of Waterloo then be prepared to fail the exam next week.” Stevens started setting up the projector. “Otherwise, find someone who has.”
Kim turned to Lizzy and quietly sang the ABBA hit “S.O.S.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll save you.”
Lizzy emailed her study notes to Kim and when she opened them from her inbox she continued singing with empathetic eyes, “When you’re gone, how can I even try to go on?”
“Please be quiet up the back!” Stevens snapped.
“Sorry, Professor. You have our full attention,” Kim piped, but murmured in Lizzy’s ear, “Unless Phillip Desmond comes back.”
Chapter Five
For the first time in three months Lizzy decided to do some exercise. She just wanted to clear her head and run. She thought she must have looked like a baby giraffe finding its legs for the first time, but that feeling of her muscles being worked and her chest expand with heaving gasps preoccupied her thoughts. It was refreshing to forget the drama of study, scholarships and attractive heads of departments.
Lizzy flashed back to what happened after History 307: Kim hassled her for the rest of the day about Phillip Desmond. She made a disproportionate deal out of the fact that he remembered Lizzy’s full name. “You clearly made an impression on him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good thing, Kim.” She explained to her how he’d threatened to remove her from taking any classes if she continued to show poor time management.
“You? Bad with time management?” Kim asked.
“Yeah.” She wasn’t sure how to explain it. “Recently I’ve been ... well, reading the time wrong. It feels and seems to be the morning but it’s actually afternoon or vice versa.” This was the first time Lizzy had confronted this issue out loud. It seemed crazy, delusional and Kim’s silence confirmed it. There was no explanation.
So running was the solution—a temporary one, anyway.
Her feet pounded the pavement to the lyrics of Mumford and Sons singing about “grace and choice” and “building walls” only to “tear them down.” At that moment Lizzy felt she had enough energy and power to rip apart a stone tower, brick by brick. She needed to get to the bottom of it, to the truth and to uncover what lay beneath. She went to cross the road but was so in the zone that she failed to see the gray car parked to the side. She smacked right into it with her hip.
“Ooph!”
The door opened slightly but no one got out.
Oh, crap! She thought. It looked expensive.
“I’m so sorry.” She picked herself up. “It’s not damaged. It’s fine.” Lizzy felt terrible and overheated and decided it was a good time to head home.
“Where have you been?”
“What?” She pulled her earplugs and wrapped the cord around her MP3. It was ancient but did the trick and was small enough to not be a nuisance.
“I’ve been worried about you. You were gone for ages,” Lizzy heard Joe yell from the kitchen.
“I went for a run.”
“What?” he asked.
“A RUN. R.U.N.” She entered the kitchen, sweating everywhere, her throat coarse from dehydration.
“I heard you the first time—I just couldn’t believe it.” He fetched Lizzy a glass of water, and as he handed it over his eyes traveled over her tight sports gear.
“Um, thanks for the water.”
“No problem.” He quickly turned around and went back to stirring the mince on the stove. “Your mum called. Twice, by the way.” He nodded to her phone on the counter.
“She did?” Lizzy took a big gulp.
“You know, you should really take your phone with you if you’re running late at night.”
“Jeez, I didn’t know I had two mothers.”
“I’m just saying. There are creeps out there and how would I get hold of you? You didn’t even leave a note.”
“I’m sorry. I just needed to clear my head.”
Joe didn’t respond but Lizzy knew his concern was coming from the right place.
“I can look after myself, ya know.” She walked up to him and did her best karate kid impersonation but as she went to chop her hand down, she smacked it on the cupboard handle.
“Son-of-a-!” She cradled her hand with her good arm and jiggled around the kitchen howling.
“You were saying?” Joe cocked an eyebrow.
“Now you’re smiling!”
He shrugged and went back to cooking.
“You should call your mum.”
“Nooo,” she moaned.
“Your parents are reaching out to you, Lizzy. Hear what they have to say.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why should I? They never listened to me.”
Joe stopped stirring and shot her a frown.
“Besides,” she added, “I can’t call them. My hand is broken.” Lizzy raised her hand to his face, pouting.
“For goodness sake.” Joe picked up her phone from the counter. “You’re the most stubborn person I know.”
“What are you doing?”
“Calling them.”
“No! Joe, I don’t want to hear what they have to say.”
He put the phone to his ear, “Well, too bad.”
“This is my choice. Respect my autonomy,” Lizzy yelled up at him.
“It’s ringing.”
“Joe!”
He thrust the phone to her ear and she heard her mother’s chipper voice on the line.
“Hey, Mum. Joe said you called?” Lizzy went to kick him where it hurts but he grabbed her foot and walked backward, making her hop helplessly in his control.
“Elizabeth, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
Lizzy tried to snake her foot from his grip.
“That terrible dinner we had has been going around in my head.” Claudia’s voice was so faint. “Those things your father said … he … he didn’t mean. They were coming from somewhere else.”
Joe still had Lizzy’s foot and by now they had circled the kitchen and lounge.
“Just let it go!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I just thought that we owe you an apology.”
“What? No, I mean Joe!”
“We owe him an apology, too. We were completely out of line.”
“Hold on, Mum.” She pretended to gather a mouthful of spit and threatened Joe with it. He finally let go, arms raised in surrender.
Lizzy took a deep breath. “Sorry, Mum. Joe was messing around with me…” That sounded inappropriate. “He had me by the leg … you know what? Don’t worry about it. What were you saying before?”
Claudia sighed, “I was trying to apologize about the dinner last month. You need to know that we love you very much.”
“You have an odd way of expressing it.”
“Elizabeth Grace,” her tone was firm, “please just … just listen to me.”
