One Perfect Summer

feeling well, then I climb into bed and stay there until the next morning, when I wake up to find my mum pressing her hand to my forehead. Her face is etched with worry, and I know that I can’t allow her and Dad to go through this again. I find the resolve to put on an act – an act I hoped I’d never have to put on again – and somehow manage to make it through the next few days until it’s time for me to return to Cambridge. Lukas rings me once during this time, but I divert his call. He texts to apologise for not calling me more; he’s been busy with family commitments. I force myself to reply with a text that says pretty much the same thing, then I turn off my phone. I want to tell him it’s over. But that will have to wait. At the very least, I owe it to him to say it to his face.
    On the return train my feelings begin to feel quite surreal. The closer I get to Cambridge, the more the darkness inside me fades. By the time I walk through the front door into Jessie’s house I feel oddly okay. The house is empty – Emily is in Scotland until tomorrow and Jessie is in Austria for another six weeks – but still I feel lighter than I did in London. I sit down on the sofa in a daze and stare ahead. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I such a headcase?
    I put my hand to my collarbone, but the necklace Lukas gave me is absent. I stopped wearing it the day I went to find Joe.
    He’s flying back into Stansted tonight. Lukas. Here and now I’m not sure how I feel about seeing him again.
    I don’t have to wait long to find out. I’m upstairs unpacking when I hear the front doorbell ring. I go downstairs with idle curiosity, wondering who it might be. It doesn’t occur to me to wonder if it’s Lukas, because his flight isn’t due until tonight. I open the door and stare at him with surprise.
    ‘Hello,’ he says gently. He steps over the threshold, but I’m frozen, staring up at him. He’s wearing the scarf that I gave him. It suits him. But I barely recognise him. He’s like a stranger to me. We’ve been apart for only a fortnight, but it feels like a lifetime. He wraps his arms around me and I’m tense under his touch.
    It’s the scent of his aftershave that does it. I breathe it in and instantly soften. I hold him tightly as I squeeze my eyes shut.
    Lukas. My boyfriend. I’m such a fucking idiot.
    ‘Surprise,’ he says quietly, pulling away and looking down at me.
    ‘I . . . I didn’t think you were getting back until tonight?’ I stammer.
    ‘I caught an earlier flight. That was a long two weeks.’
    I smile weakly. ‘It was.’
    ‘Are you okay?’ he asks. ‘I tried to call you from the airport, but your phone went straight through to voicemail.’
    ‘I need to charge it up,’ I say dismissively, looking away. He tilts my chin up towards him and then he kisses me.
    For a split second Joe passes through my mind, and then I shut him out. That’s enough now. This is my reality and I should be happy with it.
    Not ‘should’. ‘Am’.
    ‘Hold on a moment,’ he says, breaking away and going to the door. He stalks down the path and lifts his hand to wave goodbye to someone down on the street, then he returns to the house.
    ‘Klaus,’ he explains. ‘He’s going to drop my bags to my room.’
    ‘Nice,’ I tease. ‘Did he pick you up from the airport too?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘You should have introduced me,’ I say.
    ‘Why?’ he asks with a frown.
    ‘What do you mean, “why”?’ I mirror his expression.
    He shrugs and seems genuinely perplexed.
    ‘He’s . . . I don’t know, he’s a part of your life,’ I explain. ‘I feel bad that I haven’t even met him.’
    ‘Don’t feel bad. He works for my family. It’s not necessary for you to meet him solely for the reason of being polite.’
    He pulls me back into his arms.
    ‘I missed you,’ he murmurs into my hair. He kisses me passionately and shivers tingle up and down my spine. Soon afterwards we relocate to my bedroom.
    The feeling of surrealism returns later when I’m lying in his arms, but this time it’s my trip to London that feels surreal. I can’t actually believe that I acted like that. I really am a nutcase. Maybe I should see someone.
    Lukas shifts beside me. I look down at him. ‘Are you okay?’
    ‘I’m good,’ he replies, stretching. ‘I like your bed,’ he says with a grin.
    ‘It’s certainly bigger than yours,’ I reply, propping myself up on his chest.
    ‘When does Jessie