Emily told herself that it was just a crush and that nothing could ever happen between them but however hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to contain her feelings for him. In fact, with each passing month, they grew stronger until he had become something of an obsession. She would find excuses to spend extra time with him, citing the need to go over her last essay in greater detail or to discuss a new theory she had about a particular author. Just being alone with him was enough.
Anton seemed impressed by her dedication to her studies and certainly didn’t discourage her from asking for more help. Over time she convinced herself that the attraction was mutual.
The others would sometimes tease her and call her a swot or a teacher’s pet but they never actually asked if there was anything going on between them. The closest they came was when Melissa had wondered aloud whether it was Anton that was the attraction, rather than the Breton Lays in Middle English. Emily had laughed it off, pointing out that even if she did think Anton was very attractive, she would never make a move on a) a married man or b) her tutor. ‘I would get the blame and I’d be thrown off the course.’
Melissa had pondered this for a moment. ‘He’d be blamed too. He could lose his post.’
‘Well, it’s a good job there’s nothing going on then, isn’t it?’ Emily had countered, relieved to have been able to deny it so categorically.
After that, it was never mentioned again, and Emily was able to indulge her obsession without being questioned. Her results improved and she was seen as the top student in her year, destined for a first-class degree, followed by a big career.
‘It’s down to you,’ she told Anton, when she gained the highest marks in her exams at the end of the second year.
Anton had smiled the slightly crooked smile that she had spent so many nights dreaming about and reached out to take her hand. Emily’s heart banged in her chest, wondering if this was the moment he would finally admit his feelings for her.
‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.
‘I’m leaving.’
Emily blinked. She must have misheard. It wasn’t possible.
‘Leaving?’
Anton nodded. ‘I’ve got a new job. In Durham. I won’t be back next term.’ He was looking at her earnestly. Apologetically.
Emily’s thoughts lurched ahead to her third year, stretching out before her like a barren wasteland. He had to reconsider. ‘What about me?’ she said, realizing as the words left her lips how childish they sounded.
‘You’ll be fine!’ He squeezed her hand, his eyes holding hers. ‘You’re doing so well. Just keep it up and you’ll get the first you deserve.’
‘I don’t care about a bloody first!’ Emily spat, her thoughts tumbling furiously over one another.
Anton dropped her hand and cleared his throat. ‘Look, Emily, you’ve worked so hard. Don’t blow it now.’
Emily gazed at him in disbelief. As she did so, it dawned on her that this was a common scenario for Anton. Students fell for him all the time. Of course they did. He was gorgeous. She wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last. The realization hit her like a sledgehammer blow.
‘All this time, you must have been laughing at me—’
‘No!’ The vehemence of Anton’s denial made her catch her breath. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘I have never laughed at you. I, well, if things had been different…’ He left the words hanging in the air between them.
‘Don’t.’ Emily stood up and smoothed down her jeans, swallowing back the tears that were thick in her throat. ‘Just… don’t.’
Anton watched her as she gathered her bags together. His pale blue eyes glittered slightly but he didn’t speak.
‘Well. Thank you. Good luck in your new job.’ Her words sounded forced. Which is what they were.
‘Thank you, Emily. Good luck with the rest of your course. I look forward to reading your first novel one day.’
‘Yeah. Right.’ Emily threw him a final glance over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.
It would be almost a year before she saw him again.
AUGUST 1998
‘President Bill Clinton has given a nationally televised statement, in which he admits that he had an “improper physical relationship” with White House intern Monica Lewinsky, and that it was “not appropriate”.’
WHITSTABLE
Melissa opened the bottle of champagne with a practised pop and expertly poured some into each of the four glasses she had lined up on the granite worktop.
‘Not for me, thanks.’ Sophie wouldn’t look at Melissa as she spoke, turning away from her and perching on one of the stools lined up against the breakfast bar.
‘What? You’re joking, aren’t you? I’ve known you for eight years now and you’ve never once turned down champagne.’
‘I’m not feeling great, to be honest.’
Melissa’s antennae prickled. Sometimes she thought she knew Sophie better than she knew herself. Something was very wrong and she did indeed look like death.
After a moment spent staring at Sophie’s back, Melissa quickly drained Sophie’s glass and put it in the sink. Then she picked up two glasses and handed them out to Amy and Emily who were sitting at the pretty cloth-covered wooden table by the window. They were chatting animatedly and hadn’t noticed the exchange between Sophie and Melissa.
‘Here’s to Amy and Nick!’ Melissa interrupted, striding into the middle of the room with her own full champagne flute aloft.
Sophie scuttled to the cupboard and retrieved a wine glass, which she quickly filled with tap water. Melissa pretended not to see.
Amy, wearing a short, floaty green dress that showed off her long, toned legs and matched her vivid eyes perfectly, stood up and twirled in delight, sending her long auburn hair swinging behind her.
Melissa watched her, envy scorching through her like heartburn as she raised her glass to toast Amy’s engagement. Nick had proposed to her during a romantic weekend in Capri. According to Amy, he had waited until they had arrived by chairlift at the top of a mountain before bending down on one knee and producing a stunning antique diamond ring. He was rich, he was so handsome it was almost comical and he was madly in love with Amy.
Melissa couldn’t understand why she felt so envious. She had no desire to settle down and anyway, she hadn’t met anyone she would want to settle down with. Yet Amy’s happiness and radiance made her feel as though she had somehow failed.
How different Amy’s life suddenly seemed to the others’, having all travelled down such wildly contrasting paths since their weekend away last year. Emily was still scrimping and struggling to support herself and Jack alone; Sophie seemed to have lost her natural sparkle and disappeared into her own melancholy world and Melissa’s love life was non-existent. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Melissa’s sex life was excellent. It was just that there wasn’t much love involved in any of her liaisons, mainly because the men she slept with were usually married, or in long-term relationships. She told herself that she didn’t care: she was young and she was having fun. She dismissed the niggling voice whispering in her ear in the middle of the night that sex, however good, was no replacement for love. Nor was it actually very much fun.
‘So when’s the big day then?’ Emily’s voice cut through Melissa’s maudlin thoughts as they