‘I didn’t think you were into the saints.’
‘No, no I’m not, not really. It was a gift.’
‘A gift?’
‘Jeez, Jack, what is this, the third degree? Roxanne bought it for me, if you must know. Before I left for Canada.’
‘Easy, Isla. Don’t bite my head off. I’ll put some coffee on, shall I?’ he said, turning his back and leaving her alone.
Isla dried herself, and pulled on a pair of leggings and a crumpled Fat Face top she’d retrieved from her case. She grabbed the rubber band she’d discarded to take a shower, pulled it back onto her wrist, and pinged it three times.
In the kitchen, she plonked three magnets on the fridge – Toronto, the Canadian Rockies and Niagara Falls – as Jack took two ready-made rolls from a paper bag and placed them on plates.
‘Cheese and pickle OK?’ he asked, as she headed towards him. ‘I picked them up on the way home. Thought you might be hungry. There’s nothing in the fridge.’
‘Sounds great,’ Isla said, reaching him and pulling him into a hug. ‘Listen, sorry about earlier …’ She nodded towards the bathroom. ‘It’s just …’
‘You hate me smoking. I know.’
‘No, well I had thought you’d given up, but it’s more that I didn’t sleep too well, that’s all.’ She bit her lip. If she told him about the car, the buzzer, he would think she was taking a step back.
She released him and pulled herself onto a stool at the breakfast bar.
‘I have given up, by the way,’ he said, as his phone screamed out the Spider-Man theme tune. He picked it up, looked at the screen, and cancelled the call.
‘Who was that?’
‘My mother – she can wait.’ His eyes were on Isla. ‘I’ve had one cigarette in three months.’
‘You sure about that?’ she said with a smile.
‘OK, two, maybe three, tops. But that’s pretty good.’
Isla tucked her damp hair behind her ears. ‘Yes, you’re right. Sorry.’ She bit into the roll, crumbs sprinkling the breakfast bar, and chewed slowly. ‘So you don’t think your mum will listen to the doctors?’
He shook his head, a crease forming between his eyebrows. He looked pale, his eyes shadowed, as though he’d had little sleep in Dorset. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I only went out of duty, and I’m not sure I even owe her that.’ He sounded cold, so unlike Jack, and Isla felt lost for the right words. His relationship with his mother had always been rocky. She’d been a drinker when he was a kid and neglected him, especially after his dad left.
Luna jumped onto the breakfast bar and attempted to sniff Isla’s roll. ‘You’re so naughty,’ she said, lifting her from the worktop and putting her on the floor where she gave a little mew. ‘Was she good at my mum’s, do you know?’
‘Good as gold, apparently,’ Jack said, a smile breaking through. ‘Christ, we sound like we’re talking about a baby.’
Isla didn’t catch his eye. She knew he wanted kids one day. She took another bite of her roll and glanced at her phone on the worktop, noticing a Facebook notification.
‘And my mum and dad are OK?’ she asked, picking up her mobile and looking at the screen.
‘Yeah, great, happier now you’re back in the UK, of course.’
‘God, when will they stop worrying about me?’ she said, opening up Facebook. ‘I just wish they’d see I’m fine now.’
‘So tell me all about your trip.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘Have you taken lots of photos? The ones you put online are fantastic.’
‘Yes …’ she said, but she was distracted by an event invitation. ‘Good God, I was only thinking about him yesterday.’
‘Who?’
‘Trevor Cooper.’
‘The old boyfriend who you don’t fancy?’
She laughed, eyes glued to the screen. ‘That’s the one. He’s invited me to a university reunion.’
‘I thought he didn’t get in touch after you saw him on the train.’
‘He didn’t, and I hadn’t noticed him on Facebook either, well not until yesterday, oddly enough.’
‘Maybe he came on to sort out the reunion.’
‘Yeah, probably.’ She glanced up. ‘I like your beard, by the way,’ she said, touching his face. ‘Suits you.’
‘What, this ol’ thing?’ He smiled. ‘It’s just something me and Ryan Gosling are trying out.’
‘Well, you’re much cuter,’ she said, but her eyes had drifted back to her phone screen.
‘Coffee?’ Jack asked, and Isla startled. ‘Bloody hell, you’re a bit edgy,’ he continued, getting up after a bite of his roll. ‘You OK?’
‘Yes, yes I’m fine. And yes please. Love one. Thanks.’
Jack headed for the coffee machine, as she tapped the phone screen to open the event.
The cover photo was Wetherspoon’s in Cambridge.
Event Invitation:
University Reunion, Wetherspoon’s, Cambridge. Friday, 28 October 7.30 p.m.
INVITED: 6
COMING: 3
NOT COMING: 2
I’m trying to get together a few old uni friends for a reunion. I thought it was about time. It’s been years! Do you guys fancy it? Trevor
Isla looked to see who’d been invited. Roxanne wasn’t there, but then she’d fallen out with Trevor. Sara Pembroke, who had studied chemistry with him, had already accepted. Isla hadn’t had much to do with her at university, but recalled she was tall and overweight, with short dark hair. An insular girl, if she remembered rightly. Super-intelligent.
She clicked on Sara’s profile to try to find out what she was like now, but there was a hedgehog for her profile picture, and a field of poppies as her cover photo. Her friends list and settings were private.
The declines were Stephen Grant and Jenny Dawson. They’d been the dream couple at university and were getting married on 28 October. The other acceptances were Veronica Beesley and Ben Martin. Their profiles were set to private too, their friends lists hidden, but Isla recognised them, even though they’d matured over the years. They’d unfriended Isla on Facebook a long time ago, at a time when they were clearing out old university friends and moving on. She was amazed they’d agreed to meet up with Trevor. But then Trevor had been popular at university.
She read the comments on the event page:
Veronica Beesley: Sounds like fun. I’m in! x
Reply: Trevor Cooper: Great. Looking forward to it! What are you up to now?
Reply: Veronica Beesley: Fashion design. I’ll bore you about the last eight years when I see you. Can’t wait!
Isla’s eyes widened as she took in the words. She could hear Jack talking in a cute voice to Luna as he made some coffee, but she was fully locked in cyber-world.
She did a quick search for Veronica’s company and clicked on her website. She sold her own designs, with a quirky vibe about them. They were the kind of things Isla loved to wear, but were way out of her price range.
She clicked back to Facebook.
Ben Martin: I’ll be there