One Perfect Summer

left, next to a guy who looks to be in his early twenties and is wearing a pale-pink shirt unbuttoned at the top. He’s tanned with light blond hair, and is extremely good-looking. I’ve been quite taken aback by how many perfect specimens of guys and girls there are in Cambridge, actually. Tall, broad or beautiful and highly intelligent . . . A James Bond villain would have a field day here if he wanted to snaffle up a bunch of them to start a new race. Wasn’t there a movie about that sort of thing? Moonraker , that’s it.
    ‘Alice, this is Matthew.’
    ‘Hi,’ he says with a raised eyebrow.
    ‘Hi.’
    Lukas jumps back up. ‘What would you like to drink?’ he asks me. I glance at the table: in front of him is what looks like neat whisky. Matthew is also drinking whisky and Harry has a pint glass in his hand.
    ‘A vodka, lemonade and lime, please,’ I reply. He heads off to the bar and I turn to Harry. ‘So, does Great Hall have a new duck in residence?’
    He looks embarrassed and Matthew play-punches him on the arm. ‘Someone else beat him to it, didn’t they?’
    ‘Oh dear,’ I empathise. ‘On the plus side, you’re still alive.’
    ‘I’ll put the next one up,’ Harry mutters determinedly.
    ‘Sure you will,’ Matthew teases.
    I smile and look around. Not your average college bar, I’d guess, although I haven’t been to any, other than my own. But there is table football and . . . Yes! A pool table!
    ‘Do you play?’ Matthew asks, leaning forward to talk to me.
    I turn back to him. ‘Table football, no. Pool, yes.’
    ‘Really?’ Harry asks with interest.
    ‘Well, yeah, a little.’ My dad taught me to play at our local pub when I was about ten. We went there almost every Sunday for years. I became quite good.
    ‘Do you want a game?’ Matthew asks.
    ‘Um . . . Could do.’
    ‘Come on,’ Harry urges. ‘Doubles!’
    Lukas returns with my drink.
    ‘Game of pool?’ Matthew asks him, indicating me. ‘Alice is up for it.’
    ‘Sure,’ Lukas replies.
    ‘Quick, it’s free,’ Harry says.
    ‘You against us?’ Matthew asks, nodding at Lukas and me as he gets a coin out of his pocket. Harry chalks up a cue.
    ‘Yes.’ Lukas puts our drinks down on a nearby windowsill and unexpectedly places his hands on my hips from behind. My stomach goes all jittery.
    ‘Heads or tails?’ Matthew asks us, glancing down at Lukas’s hands.
    ‘Heads,’ Lukas decides.
    He flips the coin. ‘Heads it is.’ Harry hands over the cue and chooses another one for himself.
    ‘Do you want to break?’ Lukas asks me.
    ‘No, you go ahead.’ I’m nervous now. I hope I don’t make a fool out of myself.
    Lukas breaks and three balls go straight into the pockets: two ‘stripes’ and one ‘spot’. I watch him with glee as he pots a third stripe, but he accidentally snookers himself so he has to shoot the cue ball off a corner. It hits a stripe and sends it in the direction of a corner pocket, but the ball falls short and doesn’t go in.
    ‘Unlucky,’ Matthew says, lining up his cue. He pots a spot and moves onto another.
    ‘You’re really good!’ I whisper into Lukas’s ear when he hands over the cue to me.
    ‘We have a snooker table at home,’ he whispers back with a smile, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the action on the table.
    ‘Leave some for me,’ Harry complains, as Matthew attempts another pot.
    He misses and glares at Harry. ‘You put me off.’
    And now it’s my turn. I hope that my hands don’t shake. I take a large sip of my drink, then I study the table. I could go for the easy pot – the stripe that Lukas lined up in his last shot – but I kind of fancy the one down the other end of the table. I lean across the table and line up my cue. The ball goes straight in.
    ‘Whoa!’ Matthew and Harry exclaim in unison. I line up my next shot: I plan to pot a ball on the other side of the table into a different corner pocket. Again it goes in.
    ‘We’ve been had,’ Harry jokes, nudging Matthew, who’s regarding me with admiration. Lukas raises his eyebrows at me. I pot another stripe, but the cue ball follows in after it.
    ‘Oh, no,’ I groan.
    ‘Bad luck!’ Harry exclaims delightedly, chalking up his cue.
    ‘Not bad for a girl,’ Lukas teases in my ear, putting his hands back on my hips and making me feel jittery again.
    ‘Oi.’ I slap Lukas’s thigh and he laughs under his breath. My thoughts suddenly jump to Joe and my smile falters.
    No. I will not think