“The atmosphere’s similar to school,” Emma says. “I see why people want to study here.”
“St. Andrews is much smaller than Oxford or Cambridge, but there’s everything you need here. And we’re right by the sea.” I stop, but then I carry on. “There’s this tradition called the May Dip. On the first of May, hundreds of students run into the cold sea at sunrise. It’s supposed to bring you luck in your exams and cleanse you of your academic sins.”
Emma smiles. “Sounds like we need something like that at Dunbridge.”
“The first time Maeve heard about it, she immediately went and suggested it to Mrs.Sinclair.”
“Wasn’t she keen?”
“She pointed out that there wasn’t any sea nearby. Maeve said she ought to run buses to take us to the coast.”
“I love it!”
I have to smile. “I could ask her about it again.”
“You really should. Turn on your school-captain charm—it’s bound to work. And Maeve’s prepared the ground for you.”
“She really has. She was full of ideas like that. In the upper sixth, she organized a strike in protest against the rule about wearing uniform on Mondays.”
“Didn’t she like the uniform?” Emma asks.
“Sure. But she thought it was unfair that girls have to wear skirts and boys have to wear trousers.”
“Well, she’s right there. Everyone should be able to wear what they like,” says Emma.
She’s not talking about Maeve in the past tense, and I don’t suppose she has any idea how much that means to me right now.
“So did Mrs.Sinclair see things differently?” she persists.
“I think she’d have been ready to listen, but somehow the plan never came to anything. It was just before the summer holidays, and after that, everyone had other issues, and Maeve was at St. Andrews.”
“Well, we ought to take it up again. Does Tori know? I bet she’d be in.” Emma pulls her phone from her jacket pocket. “Oh, there’s a text from Sinclair. They’re heading over to the library. Should we...?”
“Do you think anyone would notice if we didn’t?”
“Probably not,” says Emma as she puts her phone away again.She slips her hand into mine inside my coat pocket as we walk on and asks, “Can you picture it?”
“What?”
“Us, studying here together.”
Lately, it’s been hard for me to imagine anything to do with the future. It’s hard enough to bear the present. “It would be lovely,” I say, all the same.
“Are you meeting Theo today?”
I fight back the urge to shut my eyes as I shrug. “Probably not. He’s in seminars all day.”
Emma doesn’t speak.
“We don’t talk that much.”
“Would you like to talk to him?”
“I don’t know what I’d have to say to him.”
Emma kicks away a pebble with the tip of her shoe. “Maybe the stuff you’d have talked to Maeve about.”
“I don’t know. I think it would be weird.”
