of volunteering in the Philippines had been a tedious, dispiriting affair, spent counting things and ticking them off endless lists: anything from containers of bleach to packages of protein powder. He hadn’t met a single one of the people he was allegedly helping and not once had there been the chance for any heroics. Now he had no real idea of how to steer his future but he couldn’t admit that to her.
‘What’s your plan?’ he asked.
‘Finance law. Big multinational, beast it for a few years, make a fortune, then see what I want to do with the rest of my life.’
‘Where? The States?’
‘No! The States is over. China. It’s the future.’
‘You speak Mandarin? Fair play.’
‘My Mandarin,’ she said archly, ‘is non-existent. They’ll all speak English. They’ll have to.’
‘But … China is the future so we’ll have to fit in with them.’
A long pause. ‘Say what?’
‘How power works. Those who have it set the agenda – what we should look like, how we should speak. The way we should live.’
‘We have the power.’
‘But you just said that China is –’ He stopped. She didn’t understand, maybe didn’t want to.
And he didn’t want an argument. ‘So.’ He made himself smile. ‘Much as I’ve enjoyed this chat about our careers, there’s something I’d rather do with you.’
‘Is that so?’
‘It is so. Maybe you could – I dunno? – take off your dress?’
‘Maybe I could.’
Quickly, she slithered out of her silky frock. Her underwear was both cute and sexy.
‘Wow. Clearly I’m hanging around with the wrong girls.’
‘I could have told you that.’ She gave him one of those long stares she specialized in. ‘You are so not my type … But you are hot.’
Her glossy confidence was off-putting, almost enough to derail him. It was only because this thing had gone on for a year that he felt obliged to see it through.
But when they got down to it, he couldn’t. He wanted Sammie: he missed her voice, her smell, the way she kicked off her boots. He even missed her no-nonsense knickers and unmatched bra.
‘Phoebe, hey.’ He pulled away. ‘I can’t do this. Sorry. You’re beautiful but I’m going through a rough break-up.’
‘What?’ She was astonished. ‘I don’t do this often. You’re lucky.’
‘I know. This is all on me.’
‘You dick,’ she hissed, pulling her dress back on. He didn’t blame her for being angry: he’d led her on and messed with her feelings. ‘Just so you know,’ she said, ‘a thumb ring is totally gay!’
She slammed the door behind her, leaving him flattened by unavoidable reality. Sammie wasn’t here. He and Sammie would never make things work.
Since they’d both started third year, they’d been falling out of love, gradually, slowly – then all at once. Tempestuous was their thing, had been right from the start, nearly three years ago. Over and over they’d broken up, then got back together. But something had changed. The break-ups were becoming sort of … tedious, their reunions no longer felt pure, and the gaps between their spells of civility were becoming shorter. It was time to face it: even though he still loved her, they’d run out of road.
Adulthood, for all its opportunities, meant the simultaneous accumulation of loss. Momentarily the emptiness was unbearable.
FIFTEEN
‘Come on, Ed.’ Giggling, Cara took his hand and hurried him in the direction of their room.
Right, he thought. That’s the way the night is going.
He tried to gauge how much she’d had to drink. Obviously some, because she was initiating sex, which never happened sober. But if she was more than slightly unwound, things felt off. For him, sex was an opportunity – one of the few in their busy lives – for intimacy. There was urgent physical desire, too, but the chance to be really close to her? He needed it.
Without any alcohol, it was impossible for her to relax. But too much took her away from herself.
Trying to catch her when she was still present, but comfortable in her body, was a tricky balancing act.
They slipped into the bedroom. The boys were asleep in the adjoining room. Quietly, Cara closed the interconnecting doors, then stepped forward and shoved Ed onto the bed. ‘Clothes. Off.’
Immediately he got up again, slid his arms around her and gently lowered her to the sheets. ‘Okay?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. Grand.’ She reached for his jeans.
He stilled her hand and slowly pulled open the knot on her dress. ‘Okay?’ he repeated.
‘Don’t look at me,’ she said.
He closed his eyes and she laughed. ‘You can look at my