‘Rupert?’ I’m not calling him Mack, he doesn’t deserve my cutesy boyfriend name.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m going to report you to your best pal, the Chancellor.’
For a moment I hear him waver, considering whether he should press on and try to wheedle a fortnight by the sea surrounded by literary treasures and the chance of a few shags with one of his old secret girlfriends, or risk exposure in the faculty. Then he gives up.
‘Judith, be reasonable,’ he hisses stiffly.
‘And if you don’t send that poor girl home right this second and promise to keep your hands off the student body for the rest of your career, I might accidentally forward this phone call to theDaily Mailand then your precious standing in the department will be well and truly fu—’
‘You recorded this?’
That’s got his attention. This is the first time I’ve ever heard him lose his cool, and no, of course I haven’t recorded our call. I’m not a TV detective and I don’t think Mum’s hand-me-down Nokia from the turn of the century is quite up to the job of catching a sad old perv in the act, but from the way he’s panting and swallowing I know hethinksI have and soon that girl will be shoved out onto his driveway. Poor thing.
Little does she know that, thanks to me, she’s narrowly avoided being passed over at the end of term for one of her pals in another subject area.
‘Judith, you mustn’t… I mean, please understand…’ He’s spluttering and muttering away, full of panic, but I’m not listening. I’m sinking.
How has all this happened? One minute I’m Gran’s carer and Mack’s girlfriend dreaming of our future together (albeit a fantasy future he never actually promised me), the next I’m single and unemployed, not even a student anymore. And all it took was one call from Mack dangling the promise of a dreamy bookshop escape in front of me and I was almost drawn in again! No sooner was my heart pounding with excitement than the illusion faded. There’s no future for us, there is no ‘us’, and worse than that, there’s no bookshop holiday. I feel far worse about this than I do about this confirmation that Mack and I are completely over forever. It’s not like I can go on my own, is it?
Mack’s still wittering on, telling me how I have to understand that for a man in his position it’s impossible to conduct relationships in the usual way, what with him being so over-worked and stressed and so often thrown into the path of temptation.
‘Temptation?’ The word makes something click in my brain and I throw it back at him.
‘Well, you know, these undergraduate girls, they’re so flirtatious and dead set on getting what they want—’
‘Which is?’ I butt in.
‘Well, a… mature mind to guide them…’
‘Ugh!So that’s how you saw me? Immature? A flirt? An opportunity to flex your brainpower and your ego in front of an impressionable student who doesn’t understand she’s being diverted from her studies by an old lech exploiting his position of power?’
‘I didn’t hear you complaining when you were borrowing my books or drinking my wine, lying in my bed—’ His voice is so calm, a familiar dry monotone… I realise it’s his lecturing voice.
‘Stop right there,’ I say, and I’m surprised how commanding I sound. It gives me a little fizzy feeling of power and… joy, I think. ‘I don’t need you. I never needed you, or any of the fancy trappings of intellectual life that you gather around you, or your sweet talk when nobody was in earshot. I don’t need any of it.’ In my head I’m doing the world’s fastest cost/benefit analysis weighing up how I can regain some pride right here and now in front of Mack against the fact I’ll be a puddle of anxiety and shock later on. Sod it, I’m going to say it anyway. I’ve decided.
‘Rupert, I’ll be going to that bookshop, and I’ll be goingalone. Make sure you tell them that, as soon as you hang up.Ipaid the three hundred and eighty quid.Imade the booking inmyname, albeit they’ve got your address and phone number because like a gullible fool I tricked myself into believing we were an actual couple with an actual future. No, this ismydream. You said you’d forgotten all about it, just like you’d forgotten all about me. Tell the bookshop Jude Crawley accepts their offer and I’ll be there on Saturday afternoon.’ This bit makes my voice shake, but now I find I’m standing up again, straight backed and head held high. ‘And Rupert?’
‘Yes?’ he says begrudgingly.
‘Never call me again.’ I hang up, shaking and elated and ready to weep all at once.
Chapter Six
Once I’d calmed down again, a big part of me was hoping Mum and Dad would say no, I couldn’t have the van, and no, I couldn’t go off gallivanting to Devon to prettify a bookshop when I was needed at home. Yet, they didn’t. In fact, Dad got up, marched straight over to his coat by the door and dug the van keys from his pocket saying, ‘No bakery, no need for a van, is there?’
‘Of course you should go. It sounds very exciting, Jude,’ Mum said, rummaging in the fridge for the rolled Victoria sponge that hadn’t sold earlier that day, and we all sat round the kitchen table and talked about it over tea.
‘Don’t you need me to help with the move?’
‘All taken care of, love,’ Mum reassured me, so that’s that.
Mum and Dad are only going along the road to one of the new-build two beds with views over the green belt so it’s not a big trek or anything. The removal lorry’s arriving on Monday morning, the sixteenth, and by then I should be settled in Devon.
‘We’ll get your things moved into your room, and you can unpack when you get back from your bookshop. It’s only two weeks, not forever. Think of it as a well-earned holiday,’ said Mum.
There’s been a lot of talk of holidays in the last few days since the sale paperwork arrived from New Start Developers. In fact, I had to witness a staggeringly long runway show only the night before as Dad modelled his new summer clothes – the highlights were his neon orange board shorts and white knees and Mum had her turn too, twirling in a series of new floral sundresses. They’ve embraced retirement already and are all set for their upcoming month-long Greek islands cruise. They’ll be gone by the time I get back from Devon. It’s been lovely watching their excitement, actually, even if it’s all happened breathtakingly fast.
