“You had no right to cancel my half promise to Constance.”
“That would have been Mother,” she said. “Goodness, she is so naughty. But when she has her heart set on her daughter wanting something, she’s pretty unstoppable.”
“It’s not just naughty, it’s unforgivable—and rude.”
“Tish, Edward. You stood me up last night, and that was very rude. If I weren’t so desperately in love with you, I might be offended.”
“Listen—”
“I’m not miffed, sweetness. The path of marriage can be rocky, and I am willing to forgive you, as you will surely forgive my mother for telling that beastly Oxblood tramp where to get off.”
“I don’t want to marry you, Violet.”
“Don’t be silly, darling. You get to jump up five hues and be Red prefect, I’ll eventually be head prefect and our strong Purple offspring get to preside over East Carmine’s residents forever and ever. What’s more, you and I and your father get some folding in our back pockets. And Daddy has jam. It’s a win-win-win-win-win situation.”
“So what are you doing here, if it’s all decided?”
“Father has made an offer depending on your bestowal, but I wanted to make sure you were the one.
What do you think?”
She was by now entirely naked. Violet, it seemed, was giving me a private viewing. Naturally enough, I had seen many girls naked, and many had seen me—at swimming, changing rooms, communal showers.
If there hadn’t been a punch-up at hockeyball, we would doubtless have seen each other in the changing rooms there. But showing one’s body to a potential partner in the context of premarriage courtship was quite a different matter. In this instance, Violet would be showing me not just her body, but her desire for me to see it. And I, for my part, would be expected to look at it in a way that showed I appreciated the gesture.
I tried not to look at Violet, but it was, I am ashamed to say, difficult. Her postcode had been expertly scarred using a typescript that looked tantalizingly just outside permissibility, and the rest of her was pretty much perfect. It was a difficult situation, and if I hadn’t been thinking of how much I wished she were Jane, she might have seen the whole thing as a washout and been gone in a second. As it was, she beamed happily at me, and before I knew it, she had slipped between the sheets.
“Violet!” I said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just making sure. We wouldn’t want to get married only to find there had been a frightful mistake, now, would we?”
“The Rules—”
“My father administers them, sweetness.”
“Then what would your mother say?” I asked, in a feeble attempt to shame her.
“It was her idea.”
I looked nervously out the window. “She’s not watching, is she?”
“Of course not, sweetness. She said we must make sure that everything is functioning correctly—for dynastic purposes, you understand, and definitely not for physical enjoyment.”
“Of course,” I remarked sarcastically, “perish the thought.”
“Stop talking, Eddie, and do as I tell you. It’s not the time and place for our first argument, now, is it?”
“Look—”
“I said no talking.”
Apparently, I passed muster. Or, rather, as Violet put it, “We can work on your technique.” In any event, within no more than ten minutes and with only the minimum of talk—commands from Violet, mostly—we had committed a potential five-hundred-point demerit together. For me, the first time. Violet quickly dressed, kissed me on the forehead, told me she would report to her parents that all was well, then silently lifted the sash, lowered herself to the porch below and jumped to the street with surprising agility. I stared at the ceiling but didn’t move, my mind in something of a whirl. It had been momentarily pleasant, but I couldn’t help feeling a leaden sense of betrayal deep down. Not to myself or the Collective’s strict moral code, but to Jane.
We Travel Out
2.3.06.56.067: The consumption of more than 2,500 Mcal per day is forbidden.
I rose, had a bath in the hottest water I could bear and donned my Outdoor Adventure #9s. I left my signet ring, my spot and my merit book with the prewritten letters in the top drawer, then padded quietly down the gloomy staircase. I fumbled for my walking boots, strapped on my gaiters and picked up the knapsack that I had packed the night before. Dad was waiting for me by the door, and although we weren’t huggy sort of people, we were this morning. Despite his previous night’s optimism, this morning Dad looked like a man who knew he wouldn’t be seeing his son again.
The village was quiet and sleepy. Dawn in the summer wasn’t the hub of frenetic activity that it was in the winter. In fact, I didn’t expect anyone to be up for at least another half hour, and then it would be only the baker, the postmistress and the mole catcher. I made my way to the statue of Our Munsell to wait for Carlos Fandango and the Ford. I didn’t have long to wait, for a disheveled figure soon ran around the corner of the town hall. He seemed to be doing up his shoelaces as he ran, which was an impressive sight. It was Tommo, and I frowned. Not only because of who it was, but what he was dressed in—his Outdoor Adventure #9s.
“Hello, Ed!” he said with an uncharacteristic display of cheery purpose. “Ready for the big day? Good morning, Courtland.”
I turned to look behind me. It was Courtland, and he seemed also to be dressed for adventure. I didn’t quite get it. If there was anyone in the village who shouldn’t be sent to High Saffron, it was Courtland.
“There’s been a change of plan,” he announced. “Tommo and I are coming with you.”
“Does Yewberry know?”
“Not yet.”
“The Council will be furious when they find you’ve volunteered yourself,” I remarked suspiciously. “Why the change of heart?”
“The Gamboges have a bit of a public relations problem at present, and I’ll need some sort of credibility if I’m going to be Yellow prefect. Besides, I could do with the cash.”
He looked pointedly at me. “After all, you never know when demerits might come one’s way. Good morning, Violet.”
Violet had indeed just appeared. She smiled coyly at me and gave my arm a squeeze. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, and was glad none of them would be able to see it. But if Courtland going on this trip was a mistake, Violet would be a disaster—and a serious liability. If anything were to happen to the head prefect’s daughter, we’d lose every single merit we’d earn. Lower colors had a duty of care to see that those of the very highest hues came to no harm.
“This is utterly, utterly insane,” I said.
“Oh, hush, Edward,” said Violet, “This is just the sort of merry jaunt that will firmly cement our relationship. Once we bravely face the terrors of the road together and emerge victorious, we can take our places as East Carmine’s most celebrated couple.”
“There are eighty-three people who might disagree with that plan—if they could still speak.”
“You are such a whiner,” said Courtland. “Just dry up and relax. Where are we meeting Fandango?”
“Right here, but he’s late.”
In answer, there was the sound of a vehicle approaching, and the Ford rounded the corner from the direction of the flak tower. But it wasn’t the sedan; it was East Carmine’s second best: the shabby flatbed, but with the heavy crossbow removed. And Fandango wasn’t driving, but Jane. My heart rose and fell in quick succession. I was glad to see her but didn’t want her to know what had happened that morning. If, as Stafford had intimated, Jane actually did have feelings for me, doing the youknow with Violet would not go down well, if at all.