‘I only asked her last week. A grant just came through for me to study for my dissertation at Cambridge for six months. I thought I’d take a week’s vacation first: spend a few days in Paris and then stay with her in London.’
Chris took scissors to plastic packaging. ‘This won’t be the greatest home-cooked meal you’ve ever tasted,’ he said.
‘I don’t care,’ Megan replied. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Good. I’d forgotten that you and Lenka were friends. But, come to think of it, didn’t you go on holiday together a couple of years ago?’
‘That’s right. To Brazil. That was some vacation.’
‘I can imagine a vacation with Lenka would be fun.’
‘It was.’ Megan sighed. ‘We haven’t seen each other much since then. The last time was in Chicago about six months ago. I’m doing my PhD at the University of Chicago. She was seeing some investors in her fund. We met at a Thai restaurant downtown. It was only for a couple of hours...’ She tailed off, remembering.
‘How did you two become friends? I didn’t realize you knew each other on the programme.’
‘It was afterwards. After what happened with Alex. As you know, Lenka felt responsible. She felt guilty about leading Alex on. All she wanted was for Duncan to give up on her. She never thought Alex would be hurt, let alone killed. She needed to talk to someone. You guys had all gone back to England, so that left Eric and me.’
‘She must have been a mess.’
‘She was.’ Megan paused, remembering. ‘Then, after Georgetown, I went to Columbia for a couple of years. I had fixed that up so that I could be with Eric in New York, but we split up a month before I got there. Lenka was still working on Wall Street and we saw quite a lot of each other. We got on well. We were very different, but we were good for each other.’
‘I know what you mean.’
‘She said she thought you and she would make a good team,’ Megan said.
‘We did, I think. We had different strengths and weaknesses. But we respected each other. She was right. A good team.’
‘Lenka always liked to play the extrovert. But she seemed to prefer being around quieter people. Perhaps so she would shine next to them.’
‘She was quite a serious person in her own way, too,’ said Chris.
‘You knew her well,’ said Megan.
‘So did you, by the sound of it,’ said Chris, with a smile.
Chris served the pasta and the sauce, poured some more wine, and they sat down.
‘So, are you still studying medieval history?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Megan. ‘You studied history, didn’t you? I can remember boring you about it on the boat.’
‘You have a good memory,’ said Chris. ‘But I don’t. I doubt if I can remember much more than the date of the Battle of Hastings.’
Well, my field was the Carolingian Renaissance. I spent some time in France a few years ago. But I’m writing my dissertation on the effect that had on monastic reform in tenth-century England. That’s why I’m going to Cambridge.’
That was all medieval gobbledygook to Chris. ‘Are you still enjoying it?’ he asked.
‘I have good days and bad days. Teaching I like, if the students are interested. And I’m still fascinated by the history itself. But I’ve got my dissertation to finish before I can get my PhD. There’s so much pressure to be original, you wind up having to study some tiny subject simply because it’s so obscure no one else can be bothered to write about it.’
‘No job’s perfect,’ said Chris.
‘At least in this six months at Cambridge I’ll get some time to do some proper thinking. I’ve been looking forward to that.’
Megan was tucking into the pasta with gusto. She was hungry. When they had finished, Chris offered coffee, or more wine. Megan went for the wine, and Chris opened another bottle.
‘I don’t usually drink this much,’ she said. ‘But I need it.’
‘I know what you mean,’ said Chris. As they began the second bottle, he felt some of the pressure of the last few days lifting off him. It was cheap solace, and he would pay for it the next day, but he needed it too.
‘She was a special woman,’ said Megan.
‘She was,’ said Chris. He took a gulp of wine. ‘She saved me.’
‘Saved you?’
Chris nodded.
‘What do you mean?’
Chris stared into the deep red liquid before answering. It was painful bringing back what had happened, but he wanted to do it. He wanted to talk about Lenka.
‘Did you know I was fired from Bloomfield Weiss?’
‘No.’
‘You obviously don’t read the financial sections of the newspapers.’
‘I have much better things to do with my time.’
Chris smiled. It was true. There were millions of people who had never heard of him, or had never even heard of Bloomfield Weiss. The trouble was, they were never the ones he was asking for a job.
‘Well, I was fired for losing six hundred million dollars.’
Megan blinked. ‘Wow.’
‘Yes. Precisely. Wow. It was written up in all the papers. It wasn’t my fault, but no one believed me.’
‘I believe you.’
Chris smiled. ‘Thanks. I wish I’d known you then, or people like you. But I didn’t. Everyone I knew assumed it was my fault.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I tried to get another job as a trader. I was good at it, and I thought everyone realized that. But they didn’t. Then, two weeks after I’d been fired, Tamara left me. Do you remember Tamara?’
Megan shook her head.
‘You met her once. At Eric’s party. Actually, it’s probably a good thing you don’t remember her. Anyway, at the time I thought she was wonderful. I thought I was lucky to be going out with her. When she rejected me, after the City had rejected me, I thought I was just a fraud. I gave up.’ Chris glanced at Megan to see if she was listening. She was. He had thought he was going to talk about Lenka, but now he found he was talking about himself. He also found he wanted to.
‘I moped around here for a few weeks, not seeing anyone, except perhaps Duncan, reading the newspapers, watching TV, sleeping. I slept a lot. Then I decided I’d travel the world. I had quite a lot of money saved, and I thought I just had to get away. So I bought a one-way ticket to India.
‘I thought I’d always wanted to travel to India, although I’d never quite thought through exactly why. I hoped that going to a strange country might help me to find myself. If I wasn’t really a young successful investment banker, what was I?
‘India was a total disaster. It’s a stupid place to go to when you’re alone and miserable. I barely spoke to anyone the whole time I was there. I saw the Taj Mahal on a cloudy day, and all I can remember is how crowded it was and how difficult it was to get a bottle of mineral water. I got stuck in some godforsaken town in Rajasthan where it seemed to be impossible to get a seat on the train out no matter how long I stood in a queue. I got sick. I think I can remember the Coke that did it. It was in a place called Jaipur. You weren’t supposed to drink anything with ice in it, because it could have been made from contaminated water. I was really ill. I couldn’t eat, I had barely the strength to drink, and I spent days holed up in a dusty, decrepit hotel. Somehow, I managed to get myself to Delhi and a flight home.
‘I was still ill when I got back to England. I came back here, saw a doctor, had some tests, took some medicine and lay in bed. My mother kept calling; she was worried about me, but I told her I was all right. She didn’t believe me. One day she just showed up on my doorstep. We had an enormous fight. She wanted to take me back with her to Halifax so she could nurse me better, but I refused to go. She drove back by herself in tears.’