‘Shouldn’t be too hard,’ Alex says, laughing and looking a bit uncomfortable. I try to catch his eye, but he looks down at the table.
‘Have you got a place yet?’ Emma says.
‘Not quite,’ says Alex. ‘Got a couple of places to look at though.’
‘I might know someone,’ Emma says. ‘She’s a friend from work.’
‘Do I know her?’ Becky asks, looking interested.
I watch Alex, who is drinking his tea and looking out of the window. It’s as if he’s distancing himself already. I can’t help wondering with a sinking feeling if he’s moving out so he can make it easier for him and Emma to actually get together. Once again, I’ve gone away and come back to find that Alex has slipped through my fingers. Or the idea of him, anyway. I have to remind myself that all of this has been in my own bloody head. I need to get over myself and stop believing my life is going to turn out like a romantic movie.
It turns out Becky vaguely knows the girl through another friend at work, so it looks like the deal might already be done.
I stand up, faking a yawn. ‘I’m really sorry,’ I say, picking up my bag. ‘I’m so tired, and I’ve got work in the morning. After a week and a half off, God knows what I’ve got waiting for me.’
I walk out of the room without looking back.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Alex
20th November
Turns out it’s not that easy finding a place in London. We’ve been trying for the last month but every time we think we’ve found somewhere that’s the right price (cheap) and the right size (basically not a postage stamp) someone’s got in before us with references and deposit. It’s a full-time job trying to find somewhere, and we’re all trying to juggle college work, agency shifts, and being in the same place at the same time. But I think at last we’ve done it.
The flat in Stockwell seems tiny compared to Albany Road. We take a final look at it as the letting agency guy stands in the hallway. The whole flat is approximately the size of the kitchen and dining room at Albany Road. The windows look out over a landscape that’s grey and depressing. I give myself a shake, reminding myself that it’s pissing down with rain on a gloomy November afternoon, and anywhere would look miserable under those circumstances.
‘Everyone happy?’ The estate agent does a sort of shuffling motion, bobbing his head. He’s wearing a shiny grey suit and smells of Lynx Africa. It reminds me of school changing rooms.
‘Yep.’ I look at the boys and we all nod.
‘Excellent.’ He puts out a hand. ‘Let’s shake. I like to shake on a deal.’
We all go through the motions. I suppress a yawn, because I’m exhausted after working a night shift.
‘Assuming your references work out okay, you three can be in just before Christmas.’
We’re going to be working shifts, so the fact that the sitting room is the size of a cupboard is a minor detail. It’s pretty unlikely we’ll ever be in the room at the same time.
We all stand and watch as the letting agency guy – who’s probably only twenty-one, at most – wanders back to his little car, branded with the name of the agency. He’s already on the phone, organising his next deal. He gets in and drives off, giving us a wave as he passes.
It’s not exactly Notting Hill. Walking back to get the tube we skirt a massive heap of rubbish waiting for collection, and pass a house with broken railings, and half a bicycle chained to a lamp-post outside. Music’s blaring from a window and a man wearing a vest is hanging out shouting down to a boy on a bike below. He circles, then disappears. It all feels a bit like something from a crime drama, and I half expect a flotilla of police cars to appear, blue lights on, and police officers to leap out and start surrounding the place. Still, it’s all we can afford. And at least I’m getting out of my current house-share situation. Living in the same house as Jess has just brought it home to me that there’s no way we can carry on the way we were before.
We walk down the road towards Stockwell. Some parts of it are unrecognisable now they’ve been poshed up, but it doesn’t take long before you’re in streets that look the way they’ve done for decades.