I trace lazy patterns on Joel’s forearm with my index finger. “Where did you learn to dance?”
“My mum, actually. We’d have a little boogie together in the living room after school, while we were waiting for Dad to get home from work.”
A friction burn in my throat, then my eyes. “That’s so sweet.”
“Ah, you should tell my brother that.”
I look down at the table. The Formica is diseased with yellow stains that bring to mind the residue of a previous diner’s curry.
Joel sets down his mug and rubs a hand through his hair, releasing a brief aquatic haze of hotel shampoo. “You know, for such an idiot, Hugo actually managed to pull off a pretty great party.”
“Want to know what I think?”
Through coffee steam, he holds my gaze. “Go on.”
“I think wemadeit great. I mean, I’m pretty sure you and me could have fun in a silage field.”
“Well, I’ve never actually tried. But we could find one on the way home if you like.”
Thinking of the lake, I shake my head. “No more rampaging through open spaces.”
“Yeah, we’re much safer in the car.”
I carry on sketching shapes against his skin. “Be great to do this more often. It was okay, wasn’t it? Being away again for the night?”
“Yeah,” he says, sounding almost surprised, like he’d not really thought about it until now. “It was.”
“So... would you like to? Do this again?”
“Yeah,” he says, understated as ever. But as he flips his hand over to grip mine, his eyes are a silent movie, a love story without words.
52.
Joel
And then, just one month later, it happens. Exactly as I always feared it would.
The dream is harrowing, so real it sends a bolt through me.
Callie’s whispering me awake, but I’m already there. I shake her off, roll away. Bury my face in the mattress.
Please not Callie.
Not like this.
No. No. No.
PARTTHREE
53.
Callie
Istill think about us, Joel. Probably more than I should. The smallest of things brings you back to me.
I went swimming at the lido last night, and it took me back to that time you and I jumped into the lake together. A couple of weeks ago I baked somedrømmekage, started crying halfway through. I’ve been invited to a hen do, and all I could think about was Cambridge, and the amazing night we spent there.
I’ve even started reading that sci-fi novel—remember?—and it’s actually quite good! You should definitely give it a go. (Page seventy-nine made me laugh out loud, by the way. Try doing the voice in your head when you read it. You’ll know what I mean when you get there.) Hopefully you’ll still have your copy when you’re reading this. If not, you can have mine.
