What became of us

it did not deserve a name. The only advantage of the food was that you could always strike up conversation when you sat down to eat. Even if you were in a different year doing a different subject from all the other people at your table, you had the pallid, fatty offerings on your plate in common.
    There wasn’t time to find the bathroom, so Ursula washed her face and under her arms at the hand-basin in the room. Then she slipped on the stone-coloured dress again. The bottom had bagged out slightly, but that only made her look more slim, she decided, as she reapplied her make-up and brushed her hair. It was after 7.30, but she thought she would call home quickly just to check that everything was OK.
    As she tipped the contents of her shoulderbag onto the unmade bed, the small department store carrier bag that Liam had slipped in fell out.
    Not to be opened until tomorrow evening, when you’re wearing the dress.
    There was a little box inside the bag. She toyed with the lid, challenging herself, and then she opened it quickly. Inside was his business card. She smiled and turned it over. There were just three words written on the back:
    ‘You look beautiful.’
    A current of pleasure ran from the nape of her neck, where he had once kissed her, down to her ankles and back up her legs.
    Beneath the card was a necklace in silver and turquoise. It looked vaguely South American, slightly hippyish, and not something that she would have glanced twice at in the shop, but when she put it on, it transformed the simple elegance of her dress into something subtly exotic. The polished silver beamed light onto her face. She looked into the mirror above the sink and saw that her sharp features had softened with desire.
    It was the first love token she had ever received from a man. Barry dutifully bought her a mixed bunch of flowers from himself on Valentine’s Day, and one from the boys on Mother’s Day, but ever since she had rejected the first engagement ring he had bought because she didn’t like clusters, he had given up the task of choosing gifts for her and instead bought vouchers. He was not an ungenerous man, but he had no sense of taste.
    Liam on the other hand was so stylish and charismatic that she often wondered why he chose to lavish attention on her. She had no idea what it was that he saw in her, especially since when she was with him she always seemed to say stupid things and found herself behaving like a silly girl rather than a mature woman with a good brain.
    When she and Barry had been going out for about six months or so she had asked him what it was he liked about her, and he had replied, ‘Everything’, which had made her feel nice and contented, but she had yearned for specifics. Was she just a nice, plump, clever girl who was up for sex two or three times a week, or did he feel something in his very core when he kissed her? she had demanded to know. Well, both really, came the reply, which she had found frustrating, even though she was grateful.
    She could not imagine daring to ask Liam such a question, but looking at her reflection she thought she saw the possible answer in her face. Thinking about Liam made her eyes languid and wicked at the same time. Normally, when she paused to look in the mirror, she saw someone preoccupied, rushing from one commitment to another with no sense of self. Now, she saw a woman contemplating a completely selfish act, a woman inhabiting her body for the first time and liking it enough to indulge it, a woman on the verge of an affair.
    She walked across the quad to the dining hall feeling light-headed, then remembered that she had not called home. There was no need, she told herself. If something was wrong they would have rung her. Relax. Enjoy your night of freedom.
    As she approached the entrance to the hall she recognized several faces.
    ‘Ursula, is that you? You look wonderful!’
    ‘Ursula, I love your dress.’
    ‘Ursula, you’re the only one of us who has improved with age!’
    The turquoise and silver necklace at her throat was a talisman.
    ‘You look beautiful, you look beautiful…’ Liam’s voice was in her head, as she greeted women that she had not seen for many years.

    Gillian, the Christian with whom she had enjoyed heated intellectual discussions on the question of faith, and who had always had a supply of biscuits in her room, was now a teacher in a big comprehensive school. Gemma was a freelance editor of women’s fiction and had two small