‘Medicine runs in the family, doesn’t it? I thought you’d say “doctor”.’
‘He’s not keen on me being a doctor.’
‘What? Why on earth not?’ I ask. ‘I thought any parent would be over the moon that their child wanted to help save the world.’
Ollie chuckles and it’s the first time I’ve really seen his face light up. He looks so different when he smiles, and I can’t help smiling infectiously in return.
‘My dad knows it’s going to pay badly. He looked up how little doctors earn and was appalled.Appalled.Add to that the long hours and how many years it’s going to take me to qualify,andhow much money it’s costing: I’ll be well over sixty grand in debt by the time I qualify.
‘Holy shit,’ I say. ‘Sixty grand?’
‘And then the rest. And I might be a junior doctor for averylong time. Dad did his very best to put me off. But I don’t want to do what he does. I don’t want to put super-injunctions on people for grassing up a celebrity doing something they shouldn’t. It excites him. But I’m not interested.’
‘But you do want to save people?’
‘Yeah, I do,’ he says, casting his eyes to the bar where Liv and Ben are chatting away, four drinks in front of them, but showing no signs of returning to us yet. ‘I think I want to be a surgeon.’
‘You being a doctor was already pretty special, but “surgeon” elevated you all the way up.’
He smiles shyly. ‘We’ll see.’
Ollie holds my gaze for a moment and then his eyes drift back to the bar, to Liv, who’s returning to us holding two drinks, with Ben following behind.
CHAPTER THREE
A couple of days later the Student Union hires out a dingy nightclub and Liv and I spend such an age together perfecting our make-up in her bathroom, winding the boys up no end as we take our own sweet time, that we are now late, squeezing ourselves into a taxi that Ben offered to pay for as he didn’t want to wait another half an hour for a bus. The club is dark and moody and it’s playing a collection of remixed pop that Liv and I are pretty happy about, but Ben fancies himself as a part-time DJ, despite the lack of decks in his room. He left them at home in Wiltshire, allegedly. He’s got mixed views about the music playing, but I suspect he’s only pretending he’s not having a good time as I can see his body start to move to the beat.
Ollie looks more hesitant than anyone else here and I grab his hand, force him into a reluctant dance, twirling him around the way my mum used to in our tiny kitchen when I was a kid.
‘What are you doing?’ Ollie laughs and I watch the smile break his features into merriment. I now love how he does that – smiles so easily. I was right, we just needed to break the ice.
‘Making you smile,’ I tell him. ‘Forcing you to have a good time.’
‘I am having a good time,’ he says.
‘Yeah?’ I pout at him as if I don’t believe him. ‘Try telling your face.’
‘Oh, come on!’ he shouts over the music. ‘We can’t all be twenty-four-hour party people.’
‘Yes, we can,’ I say. I’m so happy, surrounded by my new favourite people, my new favourite friends who are swiftly becoming family.
‘Ugh, OK,’ he moans as Liv and Ben bounce around us, fists in the air as we attempt various moves to ‘Girls Like’ by Tinie Tempah.
I hold Ollie’s hand as we dance, sort of raising our fists together, holding our bottles of VK Blue in our free hands. The smile on Ollie’s face continues while we dance and then the DJ throws us seamlessly into a Chainsmokers song.
Ben lurches over. ‘Drinks?’ he shouts, still bouncing.
‘It’s my turn.’ I gesture to everyone that they’re having the same again because I can carry four bottles, but I can’t carry pints. They agree and I dance my way to the bar, determinedly and fully committing to the groove. I arrive at the bar and pull out a twenty. It’s union prices in here tonight, so four drinks won’t cost that much, but I’ve worked out that waving my sacred twenty-pound note gets the attention of the barman quicker than a tenner does.
I’m correct and the barman shoots me an appreciative look, takes my order when I am definitely not first in the queue.
‘Four VK Blue, please, but I think these guys are next.’ I gesture to, basically, everyone else along the bar, but the server has already started clicking open bottles. I notice Ben beside me. ‘Where’d you come from?’ I ask.
‘Thought you might like a hand.’
‘Ah, cheers,’ I respond.
‘I’ve had the best few days,’ Ben says.
