One Perfect Summer

close, half draping my knees across his lap. He edges away slightly.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
    ‘Your parents,’ he mumbles.
    I move away so he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Mum brings through a tray laden with tea and biscuits. Dad is still looking disgruntled. Barely two minutes go by before he starts with the questions.
    ‘What are you going to do now?’ he asks Joe.
    ‘Dad . . .’ I frown. It’s too soon to be pressing him to make a decision.
    ‘It’s fine,’ Joe tells me. ‘I don’t know,’ he replies to my dad.
    ‘Well, you can’t go back to the pub,’ I interrupt heatedly.
    ‘I can’t stay here.’ Joe gazes at me calmly.
    ‘Yes, you can! Can’t he?’ I turn to my parents. They both avert their gaze. ‘What, you’re going to send him back to that hellhole? He could be beaten to death!’
    ‘Of course you can stay here tonight,’ my mum interjects quietly.
    ‘Marie—’ Dad starts.
    ‘Thank you,’ I say forcefully, looking pointedly at both of them.
    ‘You can sleep on the sofa,’ Mum adds.
    My dad gets up and walks out. Joe looks after him, warily. We hear the front door slam.
    ‘I’ll talk to him,’ Mum says. She follows Dad out.
    Joe breathes a heavy sigh and looks at me. ‘I can’t stay here.’
    ‘Of course you can!’
    ‘No, Alice, it’s not fair on your parents.’
    ‘Bugger them! They’ll deal with it! You’re not going back to the pub.’
    ‘I’ll be okay,’ he says softly.
    ‘No, Joe. No, you won’t. You’re staying here.’ I’m adamant.
    ‘I could stay at a hotel.’
    ‘No, you need your money. Anyway, it’s the middle of the holiday season – most places will be booked out and everything else will be overpriced and awful. We’ve only got to get through the next week and then we’ll be out of here.’
    ‘Maybe I should just go now.’
    ‘No!’ I exclaim automatically, before asking, ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I could go to London.’
    I instantly feel crushed. ‘I hoped you’d come to Cambridge,’ I say in a small voice.
    His face softens as he regards me. ‘I’m not sure I could do that to you. I’d cramp your style.’
    ‘What the hell are you talking about? I want you there! I don’t want to go without you!’
    He smiles sadly. ‘If you want me there I’ll be there. But I can’t stay with your parents until you leave, Alice. I’ll have to meet you there, somewhere down the line.’
    ‘What? No! Come with me! I’m not going alone.’
    He sighs and puts his arm around me, pulling me close. He kisses my forehead, but I’m tense and overwrought with anxiety. What does he mean, he’ll meet me there, somewhere down the line? I’ll talk him into it, I promise myself. I’m not going to Cambridge without him.
    My dad hurries into the room and we both jump apart from each other.
    ‘Joe! Your dad’s outside.’
    Joe leaps to his feet and stumbles in the direction of the kitchen. He winces and puts his hand to his head. I grab his arm to hold him steady.
    ‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
    ‘Got up too quickly,’ he mutters, pulling away and following my dad to the door. Dad tries to block my exit, but I push his arm away roughly.
    ‘Move!’
    ‘Alice, I do not want you going outside,’ he says sharply. Mum pulls me back firmly, then Dad goes out of the door. Mum and I hurry to the kitchen window.
    My dad stands protectively on Joe’s left, facing his big, beefy father. His hair is still gelled and black, and his tattoos ink out from underneath his tight grey T-shirt. It’s not a warm day, but he doesn’t look like the type to complain about the cold. He doesn’t look angry, or sorry. Considering the events that have led to this point, they have a surprisingly unanimated conversation. Finally they turn away from each other and Joe comes back inside, closely followed by Dad. Joe’s dad turns and walks out through the gate.
    ‘Ryan’s done a runner,’ Joe says miserably. ‘He wanted to know if I’d seen him.’
    ‘Oh.’ So he wasn’t checking up on his younger son, asking him to come home. ‘Was he okay with you? Did he seem threatening?’
    ‘No,’ Joe replies. I look at my dad for confirmation. Dad shakes his head in response. ‘Maybe I should go back home,’ Joe says.
    ‘You can’t!’ I can feel myself getting worked up again.
    ‘Look, stay here tonight,’ Mum butts in. ‘See how you feel tomorrow.’ She glances at Dad, who nods.
    ‘That seems like the best idea,’ he replies. I look at Joe and