‘Doctor Ollie …?’ I prompt.
‘Harris,’ he says. ‘DoctorOliverHarris, because I might have to grow up and use my real name.’
‘That’s got a good ring to it,’ Ben replies, clearly looking at Ollie in a new light. I think we’realllooking at him in a new light as, without him realising it, Ollie just became our sensible-friend-who’ll-be-a-doctor. In five years’ time.
‘Well,’ Ollie cuts in again after I voice this, ‘not five years. That’s only my degree. After that there’s specialising, depending on what I want to do. So, in about a decade from now, I’ll be – you know …’ He lets the sentence hang.
‘Ten years,’ Liv says, wistfully looking to the future. ‘Imagine where we’ll all be in ten years.’
‘I don’t even know where I’ll be this time tomorrow,’ Ben admits, reaching for his pack of cigarettes.
‘Anyone ready for a proper drink yet? It’s two-for-one on Snakebite,’ Liv points out.
‘Yeah, go on,’ I utter.
‘Hair of the dog,’ Ben concurs.
‘Why not?’ Ollie says and when the other two go to queue for drinks he turns to me. ‘Where do you reckon you’ll be in ten years?’
I draw a breath deep into my lungs and then exhale slowly. ‘I have no idea. Genuinely.’
‘Why’d you pick English?’ he changes the subject.
‘It felt like the right thing to do,’ I confess. ‘My mum was so excited when my English teacher suggested university like it was the most natural step for me. It seemed to be the most natural step for everyone else too. Only one girl in my year wasn’t going to uni and that was because she’d got pregnant.’
Ollie’s eyelids spring up in surprise.
‘Yeah. Happens,’ I say. ‘Happened to my mum at a young age. Barely into her twenties. I think that’s why she was so intent on me doing things differently, getting the kind of education she’d never had.’
‘She’s living through you a bit?’ Ollie suggests.
‘I don’tthinkso. She definitely enjoyed moving-in day, though. But she just wants the best, like most parents.’
He nods, taking that at face value. ‘What does she do?’
‘She’s an executive assistant for a finance firm. She’s been there for years. Part of the furniture. But it’ll never earn her the big bucks, so we’ve always just about made ends meet. It has made me value money, though. How hard it is to get, how easy it is for it to disappear.’
‘That why you got a credit card?’ Ollie teases.
‘Sod off,’ I say. ‘I doubt I’ll ever use it.’
‘Hmm,’ Ollie replies.
‘What about your parents?’ I ask. ‘What are they like?’
‘My dad’s pretty cool. My mum died when I was nine, so it’s only me and Dad. I suppose, a bit like your mum, he does the job of two parents. Dinner on the table for six-thirty, and trying to field work calls on his mobile while dishing up.’
‘I’m sorry about your mum.’
‘That’s OK,’ Ollie shrugs and I decide not to ask more about it, let him open up if he wants to.
But he remains mute, so I move on. ‘What does your dad do?’
‘He’s an entertainment lawyer.’
‘That was not what I was expecting you to say.’
‘What were you expecting?’ he asks.
