One Perfect Summer

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Baby Max?’

  ‘Great.’

  ‘Come on, tell me all about it,’ I urge.

  ‘It was fine. Everything was fine.’

  This is a bit weird. A thought occurs to me. ‘Did you tell your parents about me?’

  ‘Um . . .’

  ‘You didn’t!’

  ‘No, it’s not like that . . .’ He puts his spoon back into his bowl. For the first time ever, Lukas looks awkward.

  ‘What is it, then?’ I put my spoon down too.

  ‘I . . . They . . . They want me to concentrate on my studies.’

  ‘Right . . .’ I say sarcastically.

  He regards me coolly. ‘Did you tell your parents about me?’

  ‘Yes, I did, actually.’

  ‘Why aren’t you wearing your necklace?’ he asks, not taking his eyes from mine.

  ‘I . . . I don’t sleep in it, do I?’

  ‘You weren’t wearing it yesterday when I got here.’

  ‘I took it off to keep it safe,’ I lie, averting my gaze. I can tell that he doesn’t believe me. But for some reason he doesn’t push it. I’m relieved enough to not press him further about his parents. It’s only later that I wonder whether he knew that his own course of questioning would have this desired effect, but I hope he’s not that manipulative.

  ‘Have you heard from Jessie?’ is one of the first questions Emily asks when she arrives later that day.

  ‘No,’ I reply. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Nope.’ A bit blunt. ‘But he’s hardly likely to contact me instead of you, is he?’

  I wasn’t planning on saying anything, but this comment gets to me. I don’t want our friendship to be soured by secrets – and it will be, because I’ll know they’re both lying to me and I won’t be able to not take offence.

  ‘I know,’ I say.

  ‘You know what?’ she asks.

  ‘I know about you and Jessie.’

  If I thought her face was pale before, it’s practically reflective now.

  ‘What? Did he tell you?’ Her voice is barely more than a whisper.

  ‘No. I saw you coming out of his room.’

  ‘Oh.’

  I think back to the time she came home after seeing her friend – she seemed a bit down when Jessie went upstairs instead of joining us for a cuppa. Perhaps he is what Emily wanted to speak to her friend about, but she couldn’t get a word in edgeways.

  ‘You can talk to me about this, you know,’ I say gently.

  She sighs.

  ‘I won’t take sides,’ I add, in case that’s what she’s worried about.

  She doesn’t say anything for a while, just stares at the kitchen cupboards in silence. I really don’t know if she’s going to open up to me and I’m trying not to feel too hurt.

  ‘Has it been going on for long?’ I ask tentatively.

  ‘We’d only snogged a couple of times before that night,’ she reveals.

  I nod encouragingly, almost holding my breath so as not to scare her away.

  ‘Drunken snogs,’ she adds with a roll of her eyes. She still won’t look at me.

  ‘You’ve liked him for a while, though, right?’ I remember spotting a few early blushes when Jessie was around. Speaking of which, she’s now turned as pink as a prawn.

  ‘Was it very obvious?’ She looks mortified.

  ‘Not really,’ I fib.

  ‘You don’t fancy him, do you?’ she asks.

  ‘God, no!’ I exclaim. How can this not be blindingly obvious to everyone? Whoops. She looks offended. ‘I don’t mean . . .’ I quickly try to make up for my blunder. ‘I don’t mean I think he’s unfanciable,’ I say. ‘It’s just that he and I . . . God, no. Sorry.’

  She grins. ‘Okay.’

  ‘So you’d had a couple of drunken snogs . . .’ I will her to go on.

  ‘Yeah. And it was always awkward the next morning,’ she explains. ‘Neither of us knew how to act around the other. And then . . .’ She breathes in deeply and exhales loudly. ‘That night before he went away . . .’

  The night they slept together. ‘Yes?’ I prompt.

  ‘We carried on drinking after you went to bed and things kind of got out of hand.’ She blushes again with embarrassment.

  ‘How was he with you the next day?’ I feel like I’m on Trisha.

  She screws up her nose. ‘It was really awkward. Like, really awkward. He barely spoke to me.’

  ‘Oh.’ Now I feel a bit sick for her.

  ‘Well, I barely spoke to him, either.’

  ‘Well, in that case . . .’ I try to make her feel better.

  ‘I should think he’s shagging all and sundry now.’ Her tone is bitter.

  I shake my head. ‘Jessie’s not like that.’

  ‘Isn’t he? I mean, look at me.’ She points to her face. ‘I’m hardly Blondie, am I?’

  ‘That didn’t exactly pan out well, though, did it?’ I say reasonably. ‘And he wouldn’t keep snogging you – or go to bed with you – if he didn’t fancy you.’

  ‘Beer goggles,’ she says simply.

  ‘No.’ I brush her off.

  ‘He hasn’t even texted me.’ Her eyes fill up. Uh-oh.

  ‘Well, then, he’s a shit,’ I say crossly, hoping to snap her out of it. ‘All men are bastards, right?’

  She nods, but doesn’t smile. Bloody Jessie. There goes our happy household.

  ‘Mind you, have you tried to contact him?’ I ask.

  ‘No,’ she admits.

  ‘Maybe you should?’

  ‘No,’ she replies resolutely. ‘No.’

  Not much I can say about that.

  The days and weeks tick by. I’m conscious about not leaving Emily out, so Lukas and I don’t hole ourselves up in my bedroom as much as we’d like to. She continues to refuse to contact Jessie, so finally I do, mainly because I’ve grown worried about him. I needn’t have been. He sends a jovial text back a whole two days later saying he’s having a whale of a time. No mention of Emily. I’m so not impressed with him.

  She’s a bag of nerves the night before he returns home. We sit in the living room, just the two of us, and have a few drinks to take her mind off things.

  ‘I’ll have to move out,’ she says simply at one point.

  ‘No, you won’t,’ I reply with dismay. ‘It will be fine.’

  ‘How could it possibly be fine?’ she asks flippantly, buoyed by the alcohol she’s consumed. ‘This is a no-win situation.’

  ‘Don’t say that. Do you still like him?’

  She stares straight ahead and doesn’t reply. I’ll take that as a yes, then.

  ‘I can’t believe he never contacted you. I didn’t class Weasley as a proper bastard.’

  ‘Me neither. Should have learned my lesson by now.’ She downs her drink in one.

  I know she’s been hurt badly before, but she’s never spoken about it. ‘I’m guessing you’ve known a few bastards in your lifetime,’ I say.

  She hesitates. ‘One in particular was worse than the others.’

  ‘Who was he?’ I pick up a half-full can of lager on the table and empty it into her glass.

  ‘A guy I used to know in Irvine.’ That’s where she’s from in Scotland.

  ‘What was his name?’

  ‘Anthony. He’s in his early thirties now.’

  ‘Really?’ I ask with surprise. Hang on . . . ‘How long ago—’

  ‘I was fourteen,’ she interrupts.

  My mouth drops open.

  ‘He was twenty-eight,’ she continues. ‘Nice, eh?’ She downs the rest of her lager.

  I’m lost for words. Eventually I discover my tongue.

  ‘Were you together long?’ I ask.

  ‘Long enough,’ she replies bitterly. ‘He wasn’t a very nice man.’

  I gather this is an understatement.

  ‘Was it serious?’

  She knows what I’m trying to ask her.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ she replies sardonically. ‘A
nd he was quite persistent.’ She folds her arms across her chest.

  ‘Shit.’ I exhale loudly. ‘He should be in jail!’

  ‘He’s far too clever for that. When he’s with you he makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. He told me that he loved me, that he wanted to marry me, but he’d get into trouble if anyone found out, so it had to be our little secret. He cried when he broke it off with me. Said he was heartbroken, but that he had to do the right thing by me. I was crushed. I felt like Juliet.’ She laughs cynically. ‘Later I found out he’d done the same thing to another girl from my school. God knows how many other girls there were.’

  ‘You should go to the police!’ I cry.

  ‘No. I have no proof.’

  ‘I bet there are other girls you could track down.’

  ‘I can’t.’ She shakes her head fervently. ‘I can’t go through that again.’

  ‘Did he rape you?’ I whisper.

  ‘No.’ She pauses. ‘But he didn’t exactly ask me, either.’

  ‘So it was rape!’

  ‘Well, it was in the eyes of the law, anyway, because I was a minor. I don’t want to talk about him anymore,’ she says suddenly. ‘And he wasn’t the only bastard on the block – there were plenty more. I seem to attract them.’

  ‘Jesus,’ I say with sympathy, and then I feel angry. Angry with Jessie. ‘Fucking Weasley!’ I blurt out.

  I’m still fuming the next day when he gets back. He sweeps in, all full of himself.

  ‘CHINA!’ he shouts with glee.

  ‘Hello,’ I say drily. I don’t get up from the kitchen table.

  ‘What’s up?’ He looks confused. ‘Where’s Emily?’

  ‘Upstairs. Probably hiding from you.’

  He drops his bags on the floor – they land with a thump. ‘What? Why?’

  ‘How could you?’ I say crossly. ‘Why didn’t you bloody well ring her?’

  ‘I texted you,’ he says shiftily, then in a slightly accusatory tone: ‘Did she tell you?’

  ‘No. I saw her coming out of your room.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Why do you have to be such a bastard?’

  ‘Hang on,’ he says, coming into the room. ‘It’s not like she rang me, either.’

  ‘She thinks you’ve been shagging your way around Austria.’

  ‘I haven’t,’ he replies firmly. ‘But she only ever lets herself go when she’s had a few and then she’s always weird with me the next morning. I never know how to act or what to think.’

  ‘She’s shy!’ I exclaim. ‘And she doesn’t trust guys easily.’

  Jessie frowns. ‘Why not?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask her that.’

  He glances out through the door in the direction of the stairs.

  ‘Just be honest with her,’ I say gently. ‘If you don’t fancy her, don’t lead her on.’

  ‘Who said I don’t fancy her?’

  ‘Do you?’ My heart lifts. ‘Go and speak to her,’ I plead.

  He nods solemnly and walks out of the room.

  They’re upstairs for almost an hour.

  ‘Where’s Weasley?’ I ask when Emily comes downstairs alone.

  ‘He’s having a shower.’ She tries to keep a straight face.

  ‘Everything okay?’ I ask, grinning at her.

  ‘Yes.’ She nods determinedly. ‘Yeah. Everything’s fine.’

  It doesn’t take long for Emily and Jessie’s relationship to blossom, and I’m right there in the thick of it, a witness to the developments. At first they seemed shy and tentative around each other, without the freeing qualities of alcohol to get them by, but they’ve moved on from that stage, and now I can’t walk into the living room without seeing them there on the sofa, their arms and legs intertwined as they watch telly. I’m happy for them – so very happy – but I have taken to spending more of my time at Trinity with Lukas.

  Usually I go home at night because his bed is too small for both of us to sleep comfortably, but one Sunday morning I wake up to find myself in his room. We went to the college bar last night with Harry and Matthew, drank a bit too much and ended up stumbling back here. I open my eyes and realise he’s not beside me. I roll over to see him wide awake and sitting in one of his armchairs, watching me. He smiles a small smile.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask. He has a strange expression on his face that I haven’t seen before.

  He nods and comes over to the bed, kneeling down on the floor in front of me. He makes eye contact for a long moment. I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, but he speaks first.

  ‘I love you,’ he says quietly.

  It’s the first time that either of us has said it.

  Our lovemaking that morning is more intense than ever before.

  ‘I don’t want to go back home for Easter,’ he tells me afterwards in a pained voice. ‘I want to stay with you.’ He sounds a touch desperate. ‘Could we go away? Just the two of us?’

  I think for a moment. My parents would like me to go home, but I’m wary after what happened at Christmas, with the way my feelings for Joe intensified and spiralled out of control. My dad went back to work at the end of January and Mum says he’s been a lot better. They came to visit me last month and finally met Lukas – it went well, I think. He’s so polite and respectful that it would be hard for it to go wrong.

  ‘We could do,’ I say hesitantly. ‘But I should speak to my parents first.’

  He nods and pulls me back into his arms.

  In the end, we compromise. I go home for a few days without Lukas while he gets his head into his revision for his forthcoming exams. He does insist on driving me to London himself, and he promises to collect me again on Bank Holiday Monday before we go away together. But when my mum finds out he has no one to spend Easter Sunday with, she insists on him coming a day early. Dad pretends to be cool with the fact that my boyfriend is staying over, and I can’t help but wonder what Lukas thinks of my parents’ humble abode. I don’t ask, but I think we’re all a little relieved when it’s time for us to go.

  Lukas takes me to a country house and spa, and we have an incredible few days walking in the nearby forest, swimming in the heated outdoor pool, drinking hot chocolate in front of the log fire and then falling into our super-king-sized bed at night. I’ve never experienced such luxury and they’re almost the best days I’ve ever had. Almost, but not quite.

  After Easter, our studies hitch up a notch, so I see less of Lukas than I would like to. Lizzy takes a break from her exam revision and comes to stay for a weekend in May to celebrate my birthday. We go shopping for ball gowns – she’s going to her university ball soon and, excitingly, Lukas is taking me to the Trinity one next month.

  ‘How’s it all going with Lukas?’ Lizzy asks me over a coffee. We figure we need caffeine before we get down to the serious business of shopping.

  ‘Brilliantly,’ I say.

  ‘You’re still wearing your necklace, then.’ She nods to said piece of jewellery.

  ‘Yep. Every day.’ I smile.

  ‘It’s beautiful. I’m not surprised.’

  I automatically fiddle with the chain.

  ‘How’s Callum?’ I ask. They’re still seeing each other – and, yes, it is now officially ‘serious’.

  She beams. ‘Really good. He’s gutted I’m away this weekend.’

  ‘Aah. Softy.’

  I met him in March when I finally made it up to Edinburgh for a weekend visit. He’s cute, with light-brown curly hair and blue eyes. They look a bit alike.

  ‘Did I tell you we’re going to Tenerife together this summer?’

  ‘No! Wow. That’s so grown-up!’

  She laughs. ‘Isn’t it? His mate’s got a holiday house down there – well, it belongs to his parents – and he invited us along, so we’re going for two weeks.’

  ‘That will be great! Who else is going?’

  ‘There are eight of us in total. All couples, though, so it should be good fun. One of his mates’ girlfriends i
s really lovely. We go out quite a bit as a foursome, and I’m looking forward to spending some more time with her.’

  ‘Great,’ I say. I can’t help but feel a bit jealous, even though I know it’s wrong and uncalled for. ‘You’ll have a great time,’ I add.

  ‘What about you and Lukas?’ Lizzy asks. ‘Are you going away this summer?’

  ‘No,’ I reply regretfully. ‘He’s going back to Germany for the duration.’

  ‘Really? How long is that?’

  ‘It’s supposed to be three months, but—’

  ‘Three months!’ she interrupts, aghast.

  ‘I think he’ll go for just two.’

  ‘Two!’ She’s still shocked. ‘And you’re not going to see him for any of it?’

  ‘No.’ I shake my head sadly.

  She frowns. ‘Can’t you go to Germany too?’

  ‘He hasn’t invited me.’ I feel embarrassed as I admit this and she doesn’t seem to know how to react.

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘I think I’ll just stay here and work,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll go home, but not for too long. I might see if Mum and Dad can come and stay with me for a while.’ The other day Emily offered me the use of her room. She said she’ll stay in Jessie’s room when she’s not in Scotland. She does most of the time, anyway.

  ‘Bummer,’ she says.

  I finish the last of my coffee. ‘Shall we make a move?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She stands up and grabs her things, then says: ‘Let’s find ourselves the most beautiful ball gowns in Cambridge so our images are etched on their memories for evermore.’

  I drop by Lukas’s room later to show him my purchase: a pretty black dress with lace around the shoulders and hemline, which falls to just below the knee. I also bought some heels to go with it. I’m making good use of my tour savings and the birthday money Mum and Dad gave me.

  He smiles. He’s sitting at his desk. ‘Nice.’

  ‘Do you want to see it on?’ I ask eagerly.

  ‘I’d rather see it off,’ he replies with a grin, hooking his forefinger through the belt loop of my jeans and pulling me towards him.

  ‘I thought you had work to do?’ I say, as he lifts me onto his lap and kisses my neck.

  ‘I can take a break.’

  Lizzy is at Jessie’s, putting her feet up. ‘I should probably get back to see Lizzy,’ I say as he slides his hands up inside my T-shirt.