“Niamh.” For a second a look of shock crosses his features, but it passes quickly and his face breaks into a dimple-licious grin. “Fancy seeing you here.” He’s dressed in jeans and a loose T-shirt, but it doesn’t look quite right on him. Maybe it’s because I first saw him in his museum get-up. Weird, though, how he suited the old-fashioned stuff more. He gestures to the stage. “Enjoying the show?”
“It’s wonderful,” I say enthusiastically. “They’re all so talented! That one guy is playing like three instruments and. . .” I trail off as I realize how uncool I’m being, but Tommy smiles at me. “Yeah, I like it. I mean I’ve never seen anything like it. Well, I have seen plays, just not like this, you know?” Oh God, stop talking, stop talking now.
“So, we can safely say the answer is yes, then?” I nod, pressing my lips together to stop any more word vomit dribbling out. “Good. It’s one of my favourites.”
“It’s cracked,” I blurt, then wince inwardly. Classy. To my surprise, Tommy bursts out laughing.
“You know, I think you’re right.” He leans towards me. “And you know what? It gets crazier.”
*
“So, what did you think?”
Tommy hands me the ice-cream that he insisted on buying and begins to walk towards the railing by the water. I follow him a little awkwardly and busy myself by unravelling the foil and paper wrapper.
“I loved it,” I reply, taking a tiny bite of the ice cream. My teeth burn but I feel all weird licking it in front of him, so I carry on nibbling. “I needed the distraction.”
Tommy turns and fixes me with a serious look. “I heard what happened to the girl in your class. That must be hard.”
“Thanks,” I say. “It was a pretty big shock. I’ve never seen a dead body before – well, not like that.”
“What?”
“Sara, the girl in my halls.” Tommy’s skin has turned a weird ashy grey colour. “She was murdered. Sorry, am I freaking you out? I don’t always talk about murder.”
“A girl was murdered? Where you live?”
“Yeah. Who did you mean?”
He swallows. “The girl who should’ve been at the museum with you. Natasha, I think?”
“Oh, yeah.” My shoulders sag. “Poor Tasha. I’ve not had much luck with friends since coming over here. Or actually, they’ve not had much luck since they met me.”
Tommy surprises me by tucking a finger beneath my chin and lifting my head up. It’s an intimate gesture from someone I hardly know but it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Hey. It’s not your fault.”
“I know.” I don’t even sound convincing to my own ears. “Let’s change the subject, OK?”
“Agreed.” Tommy bites the bottom of his ice-cream cone off and sucks the melted innards out through it before shoving the whole thing in his mouth and grinning at me with chocolatey teeth. “Your turn.”
“What? No, don’t be stupid.” He snatches the cone from my hand but he underestimates my need for ice-cream and I snatch it back from under his nose.
“Nice moves,” he laughs, resting back on the railing. “So, when are you back at the museum? Tomorrow?”
I finish the cone as delicately as I can muster and fold the wrapper in my hand. “Day after. You?”
“I’m always around. What are you doing tomorrow, then?”
“Research, I guess. There’s this scholarship for next year that I need to write an essay for. There’s a lecture tomorrow that should help. I’ll probably go to that then camp out in the library.”
“So, you’re planning on hanging around, then?” Is it just me or does he look the teensiest little bit hopeful?
“Maybe. I do love it here.” As I say it, I realize that I do. Silence stretches between us as the city lights twinkle along the river. A cool breeze tempers the humid air and, despite all that has happened, I know I will do my best to stay.
*
“Are you sure you have to go?”
I glance at my phone, shocked to see it’s almost midnight. I start to make a comment about pumpkins but manage to stop myself just in time.
