Free Acquired Tastes by Simone Mondesir Page B

saw as the stridency of some other women scholars who sought to imbue nineteenth-century women novelists with a feminist prescience they could not possibly have possessed, and by so doing, reinterpreted the past in the light of present-day concerns. Alicia liked to view them as creatures of their time.
    She glanced out of the window. Another five minutes and the train would be in New Street. She put her unfinished article into her briefcase. Another reason she was unable to concentrate was that she was excited that at last she was going to have a chance to show Vanessa a little more of her world. Barely an hour after they parted company following lunch, a message from Vanessa managed to find her in the Reading Room. She immediately called Vanessa back.
    'Vanessa, is there something wrong? Your message said it was urgent. I was worried.'
    'No sweetie, there's no problem. I just thought I might come and stay with you for a couple of days. I feel like getting out of town and having a change of scenery, so I thought it might be a chance to also take a look at that Angus fellow's research you were talking about.'
    'Fergus,' Alicia had corrected her gently. 'That would be wonderful. When can you come? Next week would be good for me as I've got a busy …'
    'I'll be there tomorrow. That won't be a problem for you, will it?'
    'No, of course not,' Alicia lied, thinking longingly of the visits to Liberty's and Fortnum and Mason's that she would now have to forgo.
    'See you tomorrow then. Oh, and Alicia … please don't mention to whatever his name is why I'm coming. Let's keep it between us, okay?'
    'Oh, but why? I'm sure Fergus would …' Alicia began, but Vanessa had already put the receiver down.
    The train drew into New Street and Alicia retrieved her unused overnight case from the luggage rack. It was the height of the evening rush-hour, and everybody seemed to be going in the opposite direction to her. She felt like a salmon fighting its way upstream. Buffeted by the flood of humanity, she clutched her bags and fought her way across the concourse, apologising to everyone who cannoned into her.
    She breathlessly reached her platform just as they were closing the barriers, but a cheerful black guard winked, let her through and then waited until she scrambled aboard before blowing his whistle.
    The carriage was crowded and Alicia was forced to stand for the first part of the journey. Two women were occupying a three-person seat, with their shopping piled proprietorially high between them. Alicia considered asking them to move it, but when she caught one of the women's eyes - the look in it forbade such a request.
    Eventually the carriage emptied, and Alicia sank thankfully into a window seat. She abandoned all ideas of doing any more work on her paper, and gazed instead at the passing countryside.
    It undulated gently between rivers and dry stone walls and villages of low, honey-coloured stone cottages. It never failed to delight her, and on days like these, calm her mind.
    It had been love at first sight, fifteen years before, when she came to Heartlands to be interviewed for a research post. It was late autumn, and the countryside had been cloaked in russet and gold, filtered through a soft October mist.
    The first glimpse of the town was always heart-stopping. Perched on a hill above the River Hart, it rose up like a many-tiered wedding cake from the thickly-wooded river banks to its crowning decoration: the university.
    The river meandered in a large loop, enclosing the town on three sides, so that it was almost an island and protecting it from the urban sprawl that had ruined so many other towns. The town remained an almost perfectly-preserved monument to the Victorian age where Austen or Trollope would have still felt at home.
    Its nineteenth-century founders, prosperous from the profits of iron and cotton mills, had prided themselves on their piety as well as their industry. In rendering unto God his due they had endowed the