a striped woollen rug thing on the end of the bed, and a teetering pile of books on her bedside table. I step out of the room, realising that it’ll probably be the last time I’m in there. It feels very final.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Alex
18th December
There’s a week to go before Christmas and I need to study for end-of-term exams. The prospect of lying in bed listening to Jess and James together isn’t exactly appealing. I decide I might as well just head back, see my mum, get some decent work done and enjoy some meals I don’t have to cook myself before next term starts. I pick up my notes and textbooks, and shove them in an overnight bag with a bunch of T-shirts, jeans and stuff. I message Mum to make sure she’s okay with me turning up out of the blue. She doesn’t reply. I think given past performance she’ll probably be okay with it, and I pull the door on Albany Road closed behind me.
I always forget how full-on Christmas is in Canterbury. The market stalls are crammed with cinnamon-scented lebkuchen and painted wooden toys. Pubs are stuffed with people in striped Breton tops and deck shoes sipping mulled wine and having leisurely lunches. The university has broken up for the end of term, but the place is still full of students. And my mother is at home, where she’s gone all out with a massive eight-foot fir tree decorated with tasteful silver baubles. She has a house full of guests from her art class.
‘It’s so lovely to have you here, darling,’ she says as she shuts the door behind me, then pulls me in for a hug. The kitchen is jammed with people who all seem to know who I am. I’m touched that she seems to have got her head round the idea of nursing at last, and she’s proudly telling everyone that yes, this is Alex, and yes, he’s the one who’s retraining as a nurse. It’s sweet, if a little bit overwhelming. Eventually I escape upstairs. Mel texts to say she’s checking in to make sure I’m surviving.
I point out that she owes me one. Or several.
20th December
I don’t even manage a week before it all gets too much. I hadn’t made any promises about staying for the whole of the holidays because of work. Mum’s already got plans to spend the whole of Christmas Day helping at the soup kitchen in town, so I don’t have to feel guilty about dropping her in it and leaving her alone. She seems pretty easy-going about it.
‘You could always stay here for Christmas, darling,’ she says, standing in the doorway watching as I shove things back into the overnight bag. ‘I’ll be back by six. Or you could come and help. They might need a spare nurse.’
I shake my head. ‘It’s all right, honestly. I need to go and say goodbye properly to the guys in the house and get myself settled in the new place.’
‘What about Christmas?’ She looked concerned. ‘I hate to think of you sitting there in that place all by yourself when there’s a perfectly good bed down here. And I’ve got the Bridge Club gang coming around on Boxing Day for a buffet.’
‘I won’t be alone, honestly.’
I don’t have a clue if anyone’s going to be around over Christmas. I’m half thinking I might just pick up some agency shifts and get a bit of money behind me before term starts. Thanks to Becky’s ridiculously low rent, I’ve managed to keep a hold of a decent chunk of my back-up savings, but once I move they’re going to be dwindling away rapidly. If I work all over the holidays, not only will I have a decent chunk of money behind me, but I’ll have managed to avoid any awkward encounters with Jess and James too. Bonus. I’m a genius.
I head back home – well, home for now – to Albany Road and manage to lose the time leading up to Christmas in work and revision. Rob’s working really long hours, Emma’s nowhere to be seen, I think because we’ve both been skirting around each other a bit, and Becky’s gone on a trip up north to see her parents, so there’s a weird sense of anti-climax.
As I get to my room, I get a call to say that Abeo, Oli and I passed the landlord’s reference checks without event. It feels a bit strange and final. We just need to sort