“He was in your room?” Will said, ignoring the last part. He seemed not so much angry as incredibly confused. “I’m sorry, but what? Since when do porters hang around female students’ rooms? Any students’ rooms, for that matter?”
“He brought up a parcel.” Hannah felt like she was making excuses, but it was the truth after all. He had brought up a parcel. It was there on the coffee table in front of them. “It was too big for the pigeonhole.”
“Okay, but—” Will seemed momentarily lost for words. “But, that makes no sense. I mean, since when do porters do that? Surely the normal thing is to keep it behind the counter? They don’t take stuff up to students’ rooms, but even if they did, they shouldn’t be letting themselves into people’s rooms at”—he looked at his watch—“nearly ten o’clock at night, for God’s sake. You could have been asleep. And how did he even get in? Did you leave it unlocked?”
“I—I don’t know.” Hannah was taken aback by the question. She hadn’t considered how Neville had gotten in. Now the idea began to creep her out. Did the porters have keys? Or was it possible she and April had left the door ajar? They had been in a hurry, and April had gone back to get her gloves. “It’s possible,” she said slowly, “but… I don’t think we did.”
“This isn’t right, Hannah,” Will said. He was shaking his head, and now he ran his hand over his face, like he was trying to rub something away, some kind of clinging dirt.
“It’s nothing,” Hannah said, almost pleadingly. A sense of panic was beginning to take over, as if events were spiraling out of her control. She had wanted Will to make her feel better about this—not worse. “Nothing happened.”
“It’s not nothing, it’s weird. Is he the one who told you he liked little girls?”
“What?” Hannah was taken aback. “Jesus, no. He said he liked polite little girls. But how did you even—you weren’t there that night.”
“Ryan told me. And does it really make a difference? Little girls? Polite little girls? It’s fucking creepy.”
“It’s creepy, but it’s not creepy like that.” Hannah found she was getting heated. “I mean, he didn’t say it like that. He meant he liked polite—oh God, this is stupid.”
“Yes, this is stupid, why are you defending him?” Will looked bewildered now, and angry. Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw the muscles in his forearms tense and relax as he clenched his fist against the sofa back and then forced himself to let go.
“I’m not, I just—” She felt her throat close with a mix of frustration and impotent anger. How dare Neville do this—come into her room, soiling everything he touched. And why was Will acting like this was her problem?
She felt the blood rush into her cheeks and stood up.
“I’m okay,” she said. She walked to the window, deliberately not looking at Will, unable to meet his eyes. Over in the window bay she swiped at the condensation on the panes, sending little runnels of water trickling down into the leaded grooves, and stared out into the night. Across the top of the cloisters she could see the stained glass windows of the chapel glowing bright, and the steeple rising into the night. The rain had stopped and the sky was clear and speckled with stars. She shivered, feeling the chill strike through the gappy old glass, and through her still-damp clothes.
“I’m not defending him,” she said at last. “I just—I think maybe I overreacted. I was shocked to find him in the room, but—but that was all.”
“Okay,” Will said. His voice was quiet, and she heard the rustle of fabric as he stood and cleared his throat. “Are—do you want me to stay? I could take April’s room… or the couch.”
Hannah closed her eyes. She wanted more than anything to say yes. She couldn’t bolt the set door—April would not be able to use her key to get in—and the thought of lying in her room waiting for Neville to return, however unlikely that was, was almost more than she could stand. But the other option, the thought of Will lying just feet away, no April between them… that was unendurable in a very different way.
“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice was so low that she wasn’t sure if she was really talking to herself. She heard Will’s footsteps creaking on the old boards as he crossed the room and stood behind her.
“Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t catch—”