One Perfect Summer

pulls onto the main road.
    ‘His mother said he fell down the stairs last night.’
    ‘That’s a lie!’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘She said he was concussed. They’ve kept him in overnight for observation.’
    ‘Joe!’
    He looks up from his hospital bed and sees me and I barely register the bandages wrapped around his head because we’re in each other’s arms before I know it.
    ‘Alice,’ he breathes into my hair. I pull away and touch the bandages, tears in my eyes. I try to keep my anger in check.
    ‘What did he do to you?’
    He looks past me to my dad, standing at the foot of the bed.
    ‘Are you okay, son?’ Dad asks abruptly.
    Joe nods. He’s in a ward with seven other people, but the curtain has been partially drawn around his bed so he has some privacy.
    ‘What happened?’ I ask, speaking quietly, so as not to disturb the other patients.
    ‘He smashed me on the back of my head with a bottle.’
    My dad breathes in sharply. ‘Your mother said you’d fallen down the stairs.’
    Joe meets his eyes, but doesn’t deny it. ‘I’ll wait outside in the corridor,’ Dad says, turning to leave. Joe looks at me once he’s gone.
    ‘You went to the pub?’
    ‘Yes. Dad went inside.’
    ‘Did you see Dyson?’
    ‘He was out at the back.’
    He looks relieved.
    ‘I met Ryan.’
    The look on his face . . . Horror, fear, anger . . . ‘What did he say to you?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    He pushes me away. ‘I’m going to kill him.’
    ‘Stop it!’ I snap. ‘He didn’t say anything to me!’
    He glares at me, but I know his fury is not directed at me. ‘I don’t believe you.’
    ‘He called me beautiful . . .’
    Joe tenses.
    ‘. . . and then laughed at me when we left to come and find you.’
    He regards me. ‘That sounds about right.’
    ‘He didn’t know who I was at first.’
    ‘But now he does?’
    I nod, warily.
    He makes to stand up. ‘I’ve got to get out of here.’
    ‘No, Joe.’ I try to push him back down. ‘Stay here until they say you can go.’ A thought occurs to me. ‘Wait.’ I look at him hopefully. ‘Have you told the police what he did?’
    He shakes his head. ‘No.’
    ‘But you have to! This would land him back in jail!’
    ‘I can’t.’
    ‘Yes, you can!’ I say fervently. ‘You must!’
    ‘I can’t!’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘He said he’d kill Dyson if I breathed a word about it.’
    I put my hand over my mouth. Another thought comes to me. ‘But he wouldn’t have a chance if we went to the police now. They’d go and arrest him.’
    ‘No. My parents would deny it. They’d say I’m delusional. They’ve done it before.’
    I stare at him, lost for words.
    He gets up, and this time I don’t stop him. ‘Will your dad give me a lift to the pub, do you think?’
    ‘You can’t go back there!’ I exclaim, my speech returning.
    ‘I have to get Dyson.’ He’s adamant and I know I won’t change his mind.
    ‘Okay, but we’re staying with you.’

 
    Joe insisted we drop him off at the pub and not wait for him. My dad wouldn’t have wanted Dyson in his car on the return journey anyway, so I agreed to go back to the cottage and wait on the bench. But after a while I think, ‘What am I doing?’ and set off across the field instead. I don’t relax until I see Joe and Dyson – tiny specks in the distance. We run the rest of the way to each other – just like you see in the movies – and then we stand in the middle of that green, green field, breathing hard into one another’s shoulders as we clutch each other tightly. Finally we turn and walk back towards the cottage, hand in hand. My parents are standing anxiously outside on the dirt track, looking left and right. Then they spot us and I can see their relief from here. I wave as if to say, ‘It’s okay,’ but they don’t wave back.
    ‘We were worried about you!’ Dad snaps when we’re in earshot.
    ‘I went to meet Joe,’ I explain.
    ‘I can see that.’
    Joe looks awkward.
    ‘Come inside.’ Mum bustles us into the cottage. Joe leaves Dyson on the driveway. ‘Let me have a look,’ she says, turning to Joe. He sits on a kitchen chair and she carefully unwinds his bandage. I stand by, watching, and flinch as the deep wound is revealed. The doctors have had to shave off some of his hair.
    ‘Your hair will grow back and cover the scar,’ she assures him. ‘Go through to the living room and I’ll make some tea.’
    I take Joe’s hand and lead him to the sofa. I automatically snuggle up