but my brain spins me back to last December when we first met. God, I screwed up there. She’d laughed and wound tinsel round her hair, and we’d chatted about everything and nothing over fajitas and tequila. I could have been in a completely different situation if I hadn’t been such an arse. If I hadn’t fallen into bed with Emma – I groan and run my hands through my hair. If this year’s taught me one thing, it’s that I’m not ever going to be a casual fling sort of person. It’s just too bloody complicated.
I keep thinking about what Rob said. He almost made me believe that if something was meant to be, it was worth all the struggle and the mess and the heartache. And with someone like Jess, I don’t think I’d have to choose between the job and the relationship. She’d get it.
Sod it. When Jess gets back, I’m going to ask her if she’ll come on that walk we’ve been planning, and then we can end up back at our favourite café, and Lona can make us a hot chocolate with rum. And I can give her the book, and – the idea makes me feel a bit sick – maybe I can find a way to tell her how I feel.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Alex
11th October
The week drags past. This module we’re on is the most boring one so far – all health and safety issues in the workplace and risk assessments and protocols. I spend most of the time half-listening in lectures, doodling in the margins of my notepad, and feeling sick at the thought of seeing Jess.
And then Friday comes and I come back from college to find the front door open. Jess’s red and white striped key ring is lying on the dresser, and her coat’s hanging on the end of the banister. I try and act casual, taking the stairs one at a time. I don’t want to look like I’m hurtling up there to see her but I realise I’ve got butterflies in my stomach. God, this is ridiculous.
I knock on the door and wait a second.
‘Hello?’ Jess says from within.
‘It’s me.’
‘Alex!’ She grins as I push the door open, popping my head round.
‘Bloody hell,’ I say. ‘You’re organised. Unpacking already? I always leave my case shoved under the bed for days after I get back from being away. Weeks, sometime.’ Shut up, you fool, you’re gibbering nonsense.
‘Oh.’ A strange expression flits across her face. She bites her lower lip and looks up at me. A long strand of hair curls across her face. ‘I’m not unpacking. I’m packing.’
Her hair’s escaping from a loose ponytail and falling in wavy tendrils around her face. She’s wearing a huge fluffy jumper that hangs off one shoulder and her legs are folded underneath her. She looks adorable, and slightly frazzled, and I can’t read the expression on her face at all.
‘Packing? Didn’t you just get back? Is your Nanna Beth okay?’
‘She’s fine. Really good, actually.’ Her face brightens into a smile, and she adds, ‘She’s been misbehaving again.’
‘She’s going to get into trouble,’ I say.
‘I’m just glad she’s back to herself. She’s doing really well.’
‘Oh that’s good news. You must be relieved,’ I say, conscious I sound stilted, formal.
‘I am.’
‘So what’s the case for?’ I ask.
She blushes slightly and drops her gaze. ‘James. He booked us a surprise trip for my birthday weekend. We’re going to Venice – tonight.’
Jess
I don’t think – if I’m really, truly honest with myself – I’d have let myself be as excited about James’s announcement, if it wasn’t for something Becky said. Or rather, what she didn’t say.
Having dumped my stuff at the bottom of the stairs, I had walked into the kitchen just as she made a slightly pointed comment about the other night to Emma.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Emma had said, popping an olive into her mouth. She was standing by the fridge, still wearing her coat. She’d turned around, spotting me, and closed the fridge.
Becky was standing with her back to me. ‘Just saying, you and Alex sloped off without even saying goodnight. Rob and I came back into the kitchen and the two of you had buggered off. It’s not exactly subtle, is it?’
‘Are you sure?’ Emma sounded unconvincing. ‘God. I was so pissed I don’t even remember. Oh, hi Jess.’
Becky spun around and looked at me with an odd expression.
‘When was this?’ I tried to keep my tone of voice casual.