One Perfect Summer
dismissively.
‘Sure I would.’
‘You work with me. You want to live with me too?’
‘Why not? We could walk to work together.’
‘Commute together, as well? Why don’t we get married and have two kids while we’re at it?’
He looks disgusted. ‘Christ, what a thought.’
‘How rude!’ I try to act outraged, but I can’t keep a straight face. He grins and wraps his arm around my neck, before pressing his lips to the top of my head.
We have a very tactile relationship, Jessie and I, but there’s absolutely no sexual chemistry between us whatsoever. I couldn’t have been friends with him if there were. I know he doesn’t fancy me in the slightest. And that’s important to me. I still love Joe. I still miss Joe. But Jessie has been my saviour. He resuscitated me. I don’t know what I would have done without him.
‘You’re not going to get anywhere with Blondie if you keep doing that in front of her,’ I chastise him gently before looking over his shoulder at the girl behind the bar. He’s been making eyes at her for weeks. He grins and chinks my glass again. I notice the blonde behind the bar glance our way and her brow furrows slightly. Maybe she does have the hots for Jessie after all. Me being here is not going to help his cause, but I can’t leave. I need him too much. I literally shudder at the thought of losing him.
‘You’re not coming down with anything, are you?’ he asks with concern, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.
‘No, I’m fine,’ I change the subject. ‘Shall we see if the others are here?’
‘Sure.’ He looks over at the bar girl, but now she’s steadily averting her gaze. I can’t help but feel guilty as he follows me out through the pub.
‘No!’ Jessie shouts at Chris, a tall, blond, good-looking guy who’s also a fellow punter. ‘She doesn’t need another one.’
‘Who are you, her father?’ Chris shouts back from the doorway. ‘Alice? What are you having?’
I wave him away and point to Jessie, who’s sitting to my left on a long bench seat. ‘No . . . He’s right,’ I slur. ‘I should probably call it a night.’
‘Party-pooper,’ Chris mutters, turning to go inside.
We left the Anchor a couple of hours ago and relocated to the Pickerel Inn on the other side of the city, near our Magdalene Bridge punting station. We’re sitting at a bench table in the courtyard.
‘Aren’t you coming clubbing?’ Sammy asks with disappointment from across the table.
Sammy works at the kiosk selling tour tickets. She’s pretty, a little taller than me, with shoulder-length brown hair and blue eyes.
‘It’s Thursday night,’ she moans at Jessie, who’s usually her most dependable drinking buddy.
‘No, I’d better get China home,’ Jessie says, sliding out from the bench seat.
‘I can manage.’ I try to stand up, but wobble dramatically. Jessie puts his hands on my waist and lifts me clear over the top of Mike – another punter pal – who’s sitting on the other side of me.
‘Whoa!’ He ducks his head.
‘Sorry,’ I mumble a drunken apology.
‘See you tomorrow,’ Jessie calls to our mates, still half carrying me. He steers me through the old, narrow pub with its dark wooden beams and low ceilings to the street exit.
‘Bye,’ I say to Jessie, who lives in the other direction.
‘You’re not walking home alone in this state,’ he snaps, pulling me back. ‘I think you’d better stay at mine.’
‘Again?’ I groan. ‘Everyone already thinks you’re my boyfriend.’
‘Not bloody likely.’
I crash over at his all the time. I’ve never been able to bond with the students at my hall of residence, maybe because I was so broken when I went to live there. But even though I’m, well, I wouldn’t say fixed, but certainly in a state of repair, I don’t feel like I can suddenly fit in. Jessie has been here for me through this transformation – or reformation, if you like. My fellow students put this down to him – down to love. It doesn’t matter enough to me to convince them that he’s just a friend. I tried once, but the girls teased me and didn’t believe a word of it. They seem to want me to have found someone. I don’t want to disappoint them. They can believe what they want to believe as long as it keeps them happy.
Bacon and eggs. Mmm. Now, that’s a good enough reason for crashing over if ever I needed one. I sleepily open my eyes the next morning to see that, as predicted, Jessie is
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