One Perfect Summer

asks.
    ‘My head hurts,’ I reply honestly.
    ‘You know, you really could do with a cold compress,’ he says with a smile.
    ‘You and your frigging . . . Go on, then,’ I snap with a trace of humour.
    He grins. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’
    What a character. My eyes follow him as he jogs across the bridge towards Trinity. He must go to the college. Maybe my ‘medical student’ theory is correct.
    ‘CHINA!’
    My head whips around – and painfully throbs in response – to see Jessie punting towards me with a tour boat. ‘What happened?’ he asks with a frown.
    I point to my head and then at the bridge.
    ‘You didn’t!’ he gasps, his mouth falling open.
    I nod wryly as his punt glides up to the bank. He anchors the boat with his pole.
    ‘Hop on. I’ll give you a lift back.’
    ‘Oh, I . . .’ I glance towards the college.
    ‘Come on,’ Jessie says impatiently. ‘I’ll send someone back for your boat.’
    ‘I was just waiting . . .’ My voice trails off.
    ‘What?’ Several of his passengers shuffle in their seats.
    I feel bad about running off, but, really, what’s going to happen if I stay? A German stranger is going to press something cold to my head and then set me on my way. He’s not going to carry me over his shoulder, and nor would I want him to, but I could really do without walking right now.
    I stand up. Jessie’s tourists make room for me. We punt under the bridge and I stare back at Trinity with a twinge of regret. I do feel guilty. I should say thank you. But it’s too late now.

 
    ‘I can’t believe you bumped your head on the bridge!’
    I’m sitting outside the Anchor with Jessie and a few others, nursing a lemonade. I daren’t drink in case it makes my head feel worse than it already does.
    ‘I won’t be the first person to have done it,’ I reply defensively as they all guffaw.
    ‘Yeah, but you’re always going on about how you could punt blindfolded,’ Jessie teases.
    ‘I’ve said that once !’ I exclaim and he cracks up laughing.
    ‘Aah, China, you’re too funny,’ he chuckles.
    Suddenly it all comes flooding back: the reason why I took my eyes off the bridge in the first place. The little boy! China! Vagina! Argh!
    ‘Maybe you should start calling me Alice,’ I suggest offhandedly.
    ‘What? Why?’ He looks offended.
    ‘It sounds a bit . . .’ Dare I play the racism card? No, that’s mean. ‘Juvenile,’ I decide, as déjà vu strikes me.
    ‘ Juvenile delinquent . . .’
    The German stranger muttered that under his breath about the cyclist. Yet another phrase that you wouldn’t expect to come out of the mouth of a foreigner. He must be bilingual. Again I feel a pang of guilt for leaving before he came back with the cold compress.
    ‘ Juvenile ,’ Jessie snorts with disgust. ‘You’ll have to do better than that.’
    I’m tempted to tell him about the little boy, just so we can all have a laugh about it . . .
    BIG mistake, I realise a few minutes later, when the whole table is chanting for the newly-christened Vagina – that’s me, folks – to get the next round in.
    ‘Oh, bugger off, the lot of you!’ I snap jokily, before heading inside to the bar.
    Jessie joins me. ‘Thought you might need a hand,’ he says with a grin.
    ‘What can I get you?’ I turn to see the blonde he has the hots for leaning towards him across the bar. He motions to me, so I relay the order. She doesn’t look quite so happy to be serving me. I give Jessie a look and discreetly nod in her direction.
    ‘Can you take these to the others? I’m going to nip to the loo.’
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘Talk to her!’ I whisper as I walk past.
    He’s still at the bar when I return. She’s laughing at something he said. ‘Do you want me to take them?’ I gesture to the pint glasses on the bar.
    ‘Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.’
    In the end, it’s more like ten minutes, and when he does re-emerge it’s with a big grin on his face. ‘Got her number,’ he says, jiggling his mobile.
    Chris and Mike whoop. Hurray, something to take everyone’s minds off the China fiasco. But inside I feel a touch sombre. I want the best for my friend, but I don’t want to lose him. I call it a night soon afterwards.

 
    It’s the middle of June before Lizzy comes to visit and we’re on a high because we’ve both finished all of our exams. I’ve half moved into Jessie’s by the time my friend arrives.
    ‘Happy belated birthday.’ She chinks my glass. I turned