And the holidays! They were invited to go skiing in St. Moritz and sailing in the Canary Islands. One summer she only went home to Santa Barbara for a week because she and Ian flitted between Majorca and the south of France.
At first Trevor couldn’t understand why she was going out with Ian. But Ian sent Kate flowers and brought her chicken soup when she had the flu. The flock of girls that had surrounded him disappeared, and Trevor admitted Ian was a good boyfriend.
Kate looked up from her scone and saw a familiar-looking boy enter the café. His sandy blond hair was cut short and he wore a V-neck sweater.
“Trevor? I haven’t seen you since I got back,” she greeted him. “What did you do to your hair and what are you wearing?”
“I took your advice and got a haircut and some new clothes,” he said. “Recruiters will be on campus soon and I won’t get a job if I look like Bob Dylan.”
“You look positively handsome.” She beamed. “There’s something else. Your wrists don’t look like they belong on a giant bird and your chest is thicker.”
“My mother turned the cooking over to my father this Christmas, it turns out he’s an excellent chef.” He grinned. “We ate Cornish game hens and new potatoes every night I was home.”
“Ian had to stay on campus.” She ate her scone. “He was terribly jealous that I was in California. He kept sending me weather reports and begging me to come back.”
“I imagined he’d spend Christmas at his uncle’s castle in Scotland or his parents’ flat in London.”
“He’s head of the Ibsen Society and they spent all break preparing for the student production,” she explained. “Tonight is opening night. You should come.”
“No thank you.” He shuddered. “I’d rather memorize Chinese verbs than watch students mangle Hedda Gabler.”
“You’re missing out.” She sipped her coffee. “There’s going to be specialty cocktails and desserts.”
“You can bring me a bowl of sticky pudding.” He grinned. “I have to go do my microbiology homework.”
* * *
Kate nibbled shepherd’s pie and hoped Ian would arrive soon. The play had been a success and afterward everyone moved to Sandy’s Bar. There were platters of smoked haddock and fried scallops. A bartender made black tartans with whiskey and Kahlua and there was a dessert table of crumbles and custards.
“You should try the haggis,” a girl said beside her. “It’s delicious.”
“I can’t eat another bite; I’m waiting for Ian.” Kate held out her hand. “I’m Kate, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m Jasper,” she replied.
“You’re Jasper?” Kate asked in surprise. Ian and Jasper had stayed on campus during winter break to prepare for opening night. It never occurred to her that Jasper was a slim brunette with long eyelashes.
“I always get that reaction; it’s a family name.” Jasper smiled. “It’s good of you to come. Most ex-girlfriends would stay home.”
Kate clutched the sideboard and thought the room was spinning.
“What did you say?” she gasped.
“It’s nice of you to support Ian. It must be awkward to meet his new girlfriend.”
“Who is his new girlfriend?” she asked and tried to keep her voice steady.
“I thought he would have told you by now.” Jasper looked at her and her eyes were wide. “I am. We haven’t known each other long, but we’re madly in love.”
Kate was tempted to race back to her residence hall. But she wasn’t some freshman girl who would burst into tears and think of reasons to forgive him. Ian owed her an explanation and he was going to give it to her.
* * *
“I’ve shaken so many hands I might need you to write my history essay.” Ian joined her as everyone was leaving.
“I’m going home,” she said icily. “I have a paper to write.”
“I’ll walk with you.” He followed her outside. “We can stop in my room for a nightcap. I received a bottle of gin for Christmas and learned how to make gin and jams.”
“Did Jasper teach you?” she asked. “Or were you too busy falling in love to mix a cocktail.”
“What did you say?” Ian froze.
“I met Jasper at the reception.” She strode along the sidewalk. Usually the walk was so beautiful. The ancient buildings were dusted with snow and the playing fields were white and the streetlamps glowed like embers in a fireplace. But now she was shivering and longed to reach her room.
“What did she tell you?” he asked and she could hear the fear in his voice.
“That you haven’t known each other long but you’re in love.” She turned to him. “Apparently she’s your new girlfriend.”
He ran his hands through his hair and looked at Kate. “We were practically alone on campus for two weeks. We ate together and spent hours going over scripts,” he began uncomfortably. “I suspected she had a crush on me, but I thought of her as a kid sister. Then one night there was a snowstorm and we were stuck in the Student Union. We were practicing a romantic scene in the play and—”
“And what?” Kate cut in.
“She kissed me,” he said slowly. “At first I thought she was just playing the part, but then she put down the script and kissed me again.” He looked at Kate. “I kissed her back, I don’t know what I was thinking.” His forehead creased. “I didn’t mean to, and I swear nothing has happened since.”
“You kissed her!” Kate tried to stop shaking.
“She kissed me first,” he protested. “I regretted it the minute it happened. Of course she’s not my girlfriend.” He touched her hand. “I’m in love with you.”
“You should have thought of that before you kissed her!” Kate raged.
“You’re not going to storm off because of a few silly kisses,” he begged. “For three years I’ve never even glanced at another woman. I’m in love with you! I made a stupid error but that doesn’t change anything to do with us.”
Kate looked at Ian and wondered if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter if he was in love with her. There would always be another Jasper and she would never feel safe.
“It changes everything!” she retorted, turning and hurrying along the pavement. “I was a fool to have trusted you. I’ll never do it again.”
“Let me walk with you. It’s snowing.” He put his hand on her arm. “You might slip and no one will see you.”
Ian wore a camel-colored coat and wool slacks and he had never looked so handsome. But she studied his blue eyes and her heart hardened like the icicles on the fir trees.
“I can take care of myself.” She kept walking. “Have a nice semester.”
* * *
Kate sat at the desk in her room and thumbed through her copy of The Great Gatsby. It had been three weeks since she broke up with Ian and she felt like she was recovering from the flu. Her legs were wobbly and she could never eat more than half a lamb cutlet at meals.
Sometimes she wondered if there had been other girls. But then she’d shake herself and think about something else. Dwelling on their relationship was like mulling over a bad grade on a trigonometry test. It was over and she had to move on.
Trevor let her stay in her room for a week and then threatened to call her mother unless Kate started going out. Every afternoon he burst into her room and insisted she put on her coat. They took long walks on the Old Course and hiked on the Fife Coastal Path.
Kate admired the galleries on North Street and remembered everything she loved about St Andrews. Then she would see a group of students lounging in front of Rector’s Café and wonder if Ian was at the center. She would quickly cross the street before she was tempted to find out.
There was a knock at the door and Trevor walked inside. He carried a paper bag and his backpack was slung over his shoulder.
“I brought you a chicken pot pie, my mother sent it to me.” He handed her the bag. “My father made it and it’s delicious.”
“For three years you wouldn’t eat anything but crisps and an occasional apple, and now you keep bringing me food.” She smiled.
“I didn’t know what good food tasted like, I only ate my mother’s cooking.” He perched on the bed. “Put on a sweater. We’re going to see the Picasso exhibit and eat smoked haddock and truffle chips. Your cheeks are as thin as the models in your fashion magazines.”
A card fell on the floor and he picked it up.
“You were invited to the Societies Dinner at the Adamson.” He handed it to her.
“I’m not going.” She tossed it on the desk.
“Even I know this is a prestigious invitation.” He looked at Kate. “I’m disappointed in you.”
“Disappointed in me?” she asked.
“You’re behaving like that groundhog you Americans have that tests the weather and then scurries underground,” he said. “You can’t spend your last semester at St Andrews like a monk in a monastery. You came here to meet students from all over the world, and the only people you’ve talked to in the last three weeks are me and the janitor.”
“The janitor wanted my advice on whether his daughter is old enough to read Harry Potter.” She smiled. “This isn’t about Ian. It’s a formal dinner and I don’t have a date.”
Trevor ran his hands through his hair and looked at Kate. “I’ll take you.”
“That’s very kind, but you would hate it.” She shook her head. “The guys dress in tuxedos and the girls wear evening gowns and they talk about who will host the best graduation parties.”
“I’m not asking you because I feel sorry for you,” he corrected. “I’m asking you on a date.”
“You want to go on a date?” She looked up.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you on a date since you left your homework on the table and I corrected it for you freshman year. But we became friends and I didn’t know how to turn an excursion to St Andrews Castle into a romantic dinner. Then you got involved with Ian and I couldn’t interfere with your happiness.” He paused. “Ian is gone and I’m not going to miss my chance.” He read the invitation and grinned. “Besides it’s a free dinner. I could never afford to feed you rock oysters and roasted duck.”
Kate’s heart beat a little faster. Did Trevor really have feelings for her and how did she feel about him? He looked so handsome with his short hair and broad shoulders. And they always had a good time together; they never ran out of things to say.
“All right.” She nodded. “I’ll go.”
“Excellent.” Trevor walked to the door. “I’ll see you later.”
“We were going to the art exhibit,” she reminded him.
“First I have to borrow a tuxedo.” He turned and smiled. “If I’m going to be your date to a society dinner, I have to look the part.”
* * *
Kate placed her teacup on the coffee table and gazed around the living room of her suite. It was so elegant with its eggshell yellow walls and navy silk sofas and thick wool rug. A fire ebbed in the fireplace and there was a vase of white orchids.
She had earned this all herself. Could she disrupt her life for a man? That was the problem with sex; it made it impossible to think. Going to bed with Trevor might have been a terrible mistake or it might be the best thing she had done.
She stood up and walked to the bedroom. Pillows were scattered over the quilted headboard and there was a glass of cognac on the bedside table. She stroked the satin sheets and knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted Trevor to be sleeping beside her.