One Perfect Summer

him my flip-flops. ‘If we’re walking now, I won’t be able to last in them all night.’ Trinity isn’t far, but it would feel like it in heels.
    ‘I brought the car,’ he says.
    ‘Really?’ I crane my neck, but I can’t see the road over the wall at the end of the front garden.
    ‘Yes,’ he says, and then he nods meaningfully at my shoes.
    ‘Okay, then.’ I hold onto his arm and wobble on one foot as I replace my flip-flops.
    ‘Where are you going to leave it?’ I ask of the car. There’s nowhere to park near college – not for students, anyway.
    ‘Klaus is waiting to take it from me.’
    ‘Klaus?’ I ask, then, excitedly: ‘Am I going to meet him?’
    He nods abruptly. ‘If you wish.’
    ‘Woo-hoo!’ I giggle with glee. He raises one eyebrow at me.
    We drive as far into town as we can go before the roads become pedestrianised or only navigable by bus, taxi or bicycle.
    Lukas pulls up around the corner from Trinity. A slight blond man, who I can only assume to be Klaus, rushes to the driver’s door and opens it. He’s so much younger than I expected him to be. Mid-twenties, perhaps? For some reason I thought he’d be an old codger, like the butler who works for Batman.
    Lukas snaps something in German and nods in my direction. Klaus looks almost as mortified as I do as he rushes around to my door. He gives me a curt bow as I climb out.
    ‘Thank you,’ I say as warmly as I can muster, embarrassed by Lukas’s behaviour. I hold out my hand. ‘I’m Alice,’ I say. He looks alarmed for a moment before dutifully shaking it.
    Lukas gets out of the car and says something else in German. It’s strange hearing him talk in his own language. I don’t know what he’s saying, but his tone is sharp. Klaus replies in German – I hear the words ‘Herr Heuber’ – and the next thing I know he’s in the driver’s seat and pulling away swiftly from the kerb. Lukas smiles at me, his expression softening. He offers me his arm.
    ‘Shall we?’
    I nod, but I don’t smile back. I feel oddly uneasy. We set off towards Trinity, but I can’t let it lie.
    ‘Did you have a go at him for not opening my door first?’ I ask.
    ‘Yes. He should know better,’ he replies gravely.
    I don’t know what to say. I haven’t seen this side of him before. I let go of his arm.
    ‘What is it?’ he asks, sensing the atmosphere.
    ‘I don’t know . . . I mean, he’s just a man. I’m not used to hearing you speak to people like that.’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Like . . . Like he’s below you.’
    ‘You’re being naive,’ he says, which I find immensely patronising. I’m about to tell him as much, when he reaches for my hand. ‘Hey,’ he says gently. ‘I’m sorry. Don’t let it ruin tonight.’ He squeezes my hand, but I don’t squeeze his back.
    All around us, students are dressed up to the nines, on their way to one ball or another. Clare and Jesus Colleges also host their balls tonight, and Cambridge is buzzing even more than usual. We approach Great Gate and stand in line with our tickets. The queue is much longer than I expected, wrapping around the perimeter of Great Court, but the atmosphere and anticipation are electric and I soon forget about Lukas’s behaviour regarding Klaus. We finally reach the front and hand over our tickets, then we head straight to the champagne bar under the cloisters of the Wren Library before wandering to the bridge. The fairground and catering marquees are on the south paddock, on the other side of the river.
    ‘Wait,’ I say to Lukas as we cross the bridge. ‘I want to see if I can spot Jessie.’
    He reluctantly joins me in scanning the water. I go to the other side of the bridge and he follows half-heartedly.
    I got a whole lot of grief from my punter pals for coming to the ball tonight. Good-natured grief, but grief none the less. ‘Ooh, look at her, hasn’t she gone up in the world!’ ‘She’ll be too posh to talk to us commoners now.’ That sort of thing. Lukas starts shifting his feet. The river is already crowded with punts, but I can’t see anyone I know.
    ‘It’s a bit early for the tours, actually,’ I say with mild disappointment. ‘I’ll look out for him later.’
    He nods brusquely and puts his hand on my back to guide me across the bridge. I’m quite sure he’s not relishing that thought. He still has a problem with Jessie. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven him for his attitude early on in our relationship. Luckily they don’t