“Being school captain really is keeping you busy,” Grace remarks with a grin.
“Oh, yes, your new role, Henry,” Diane says. “You certainly are following in Theo’s footsteps.”
My stomach tenses, but I keep smiling. That’s just how it is. Whatever I do, it’ll always be measured against what my big brother’s already achieved. OK, so he wasn’tschoolcaptain, but—let’s be honest—at a Scottish boarding school, rugby captain is definitely the more prestigious post.
And right on cue, Grace mentions rugby, which gets her dad and brothers all fired up. Marcus played for the school too, back in the day, and he’s giving me all kinds of tips, while Greg and Gus tell me about their training on the junior teams.
“And you’ve got your own personal running coach in Grace, haven’t you?” Marcus concludes. My smile is rather strained because I’m suddenly thinking of Emma again.
“Yeah, that’s ideal, isn’t it?”
To my surprise, Grace doesn’t reply, just keeps her eyes fixed on her plate. I’m about to ask her if everything’s OK when she looks up. “Shall we help clear away?” she asks.
“Henry might like a little more?” Diane says hopefully.
“No, thank you,” I say hastily. “Honestly.” I’m sure that Diane’s already running her mind’s eye over her Tupperware pots, picking out the biggest one to pack the leftovers into for me.
Once we’ve helped her parents take the dishes through to the kitchen, we head up to Grace’s room. It’s the first bit of time we’ve had to ourselves, and after such a long time apart, I probably ought to have certain ideas on my mind. But instead, I glance back at my phone to check that Emma still hasn’t messaged. I’m sure she found Tori and the others. I hope she did. I remember that I meant to ask Grace about the track team.
“I told Emma you’re on the track team and that you might take her along to training,” I say, shutting the door behind me. “She was in an athletics club at home.”
“Oh, cool,” says Grace.
“I hope that was OK,” I add.
“Of course it was. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know... Maybe I should’ve asked you first.”
“I’m happy to take her along next week,” says Grace.
“I’m sure she’ll be pleased... And what your dad said just now... Would you like to run with me now and then?”
Grace doesn’t answer right away, and I feel a sneaky sense of relief. She’s busy: I shouldn’t expect her to make more time for me. And I could take Emma up on her offer and run with her. Without having to feel bad about it.
“When you say, ‘now and then,’ what did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. Once or twice a week?”
“I’ll have to see if I can squeeze it in,” she says. “Between A levels, training, and piano, it’s pretty full-on at the moment.”
“It was just an idea.”
“I’m sorry, Henry.”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
I wander over to her desk and idly pick up a book. As I do so, I spot a prospectus lying there. I recognize the logo at once.
“Still planning on Oxford, then?” I ask.
Grace turns to me. For a moment, as she sees what I’m looking at, she seems kind of overwhelmed. I take the brochure, perch on the bed, and start to flick through it. Glossy photos of ancient buildings and perfectly manicured lawns. It looks like Dunbridge Academy, only brighter.
Grace has come closer now. “I wanted to find the right moment to tell you,” she says, and I wait for my belly to clench. I feel nothing. Maybe it’s because part of me had been prepared for this moment. “Not on WhatsApp or on the phone. I’m sorry.”
I reach for her hands and draw them between my knees. “There’s no need to be sorry,” I mumble. When I raise my chin a little, Grace kisses me. “You ought to go to Oxford if you want to.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I know what she’s thinking.
