by Bankes, Liz
So, Dan. When I knew him he was Mia’s boyfriend and the kitchen boy at Radleigh Castle. Everyone always went on about him being ‘lovely and funny’, which means ‘sweet but dull’, and I didn’t bother speaking to him.
And he is. Nice and funny. Friendly, but not loud. He makes tea for people in the morning. He likes puns, which is slightly tiresome, but better than no sense of humour, I suppose. I just feel like there’s something else there – there’s an edge to things he says sometimes and it’s got me interested. I might try and seduce him, just for fun. Haven’t done that in a while.
The rest of them are falling over themselves to do my laundry/take me to Asda/get me to join in with ‘board game night’. Arlo came to my room on my second evening here to ‘get to know me better’. He was here for a whole fucking hour. It’s exhausting talking to people without actually telling them anything.
So, the cat. Just now, when I started writing this, I heard this scraping sound. I looked over at the window and there was the cat, doing this weird frantic scratching thing on the glass. So I walked over and shut the curtain. Seriously, what is it with pets? I had to put up with Mum buying kittens all over the place when I was little. And then obviously we’d move house so she had to give them away. She clearly gave that as much thought as she gives anything. One time they bought me a kitten, to try and make me less antisocial. (I think this was around the time I would get sent home from school for biting.) The thing kept following me around and would not take the hint. So I decided to freak my parents out by becoming really attached to it and insisted on taking it everywhere we went. They finally took it away when I told them I wanted to cut off its paws so it couldn’t run away from me.
Are you with me on this? Or did you secretly have some beloved childhood dog that you let lick your face? God, I hope not.
I got the feeling when I met you that you were with me on most things. You strode into the quad like you belonged there. Not like everyone else – nervously gulping too much champagne and comparing A-Level results to see if they were the cleverest here like they were at school. You looked like you were doing everyone a favour just by turning up. You didn’t even have your gown on properly. And those green Converse – the Master’s wife nearly had a stroke.
I opened the window to have a cigarette in the end, so the sodding cat came in. It walked over and sat on this letter, so I had to move it to keep on writing and it sat on my lap. I gave up and let it stay. Then I read it the letter. So I’ve started talking to cats. Tragic, really. But then I tried having a real friend once and look how that turned out.
I’d better go now. My attendance is required at another party. I’ve gone from champagne in the old library to beer from a bucket. I just heard Simon walk past my room and say, ‘Do you think she’d want to play strip poker?’
I’ll leave you with that image.
Love you.
Cleo x
Chapter 4
I see him as the train is pulling into the station. As usual he’s managed to persuade them to let him through the barriers to come and wait for me on the platform. As usual he’s towering over everyone else. ‘Big’ is a word you associate with Cal. He’s six foot three and chunky. He has a big grin. And a big heart.
Once when we were playing Articulate, Mia was trying to act out ‘whale’ and she said ‘big’ and without thinking I said ‘Cal’. They have never let me forget it.
He spots me as I step off the train and comes jogging over. Before I have the chance to get out of the way of the people behind me, he’s put his arm round me, pulled me into his chest and given me a big kiss on the side of the face.
‘Can you move?’ says a drawling voice. ‘People need to get past . . .’
‘Oh, sorry!’ says Cal and we step to the side to let the guy who sat in my seat get off the train. ‘Come on through, pal!’
The way Cal talks, like it hadn’t even occurred to him that we might be in the way, completely disarms the guy and he splutters thanks at us as he goes.
‘Right,’ says Cal, picking up my bag and offering me his arm. ‘We still have time to go to the bench before it closes. Let’s go!’
It takes ten minutes of sitting on our bench to make me realise I’ve been an idiot the last few days. We are completely enclosed by the warmth of the garden. It’s in the mottled green shadows cast by the trees, in the mixture of fresh and sharp scents and in the bench itself, heated up by the sun. But most of all it’s the feeling I get from leaning my head on Cal’s shoulder as he tells me all about the curry club challenge. I can feel the muscles in his neck moving as he speaks and his arm tensing when he gets to exciting bits in the story (which is often).
There are occasional shrieks from the river behind us as people hiring punts discover that punting isn’t as easy as it looks.
We did it during the heatwave in the spring, with me, Cal and Dan on one boat and Arlo, Simon and one of their old housemates, Millad, on the other. I managed to balance and get the boat going straight and quite smoothly, which I thought was impressive, even if the others took the piss out of us for how slow we were going. When Cal took control he tried to wave the pole over his head in a sort of war dance, lost control of it and knocked Dan in.
We can’t stay long because the garden closes at six and because other people walk past, wanting to look at the bench. That’s because it’s not really our bench, it’s Will and Lyra’s bench. But we come here, even if it’s only for ten minutes, every time I visit. It was top of my list the first time I came to Oxford and it was how we found out that we both have the same favourite book. We read the His Dark Materials books to each other sometimes. As we stand up to go, I look behind me at where someone has carved Will and Lyra inside a heart into the wood. Cal has a picture of it as his cover photo on Facebook. It feels like a secret message to me.
We walk over Magdalene Bridge and towards Cowley Road, where the house is. When we stop at the Sainsbury’s on the roundabout to stock up for the house party I take my bag back and trail behind Cal as he picks up a crate of beer. I reply to Nish’s text asking me how it’s going with a smiley face.
It’s a familiar sound. Cal’s loud laugh as he stands at the centre of a group of people. It’s the rugby team, who all meet up – even in the summer – for training and socials. Mostly socials, I think. It seems a million times louder when they’re all together and the living room is taken over by the noise. Cal is always in the middle. Not because he’s the most extroverted, or tells the craziest stories, but just because he’s so comfortable, I think. He’s so relaxed and happy with who he is and that’s something people warm to. He’s also wearing the lederhosen that Dan got him from Germany.
Cal must be talking about me because for a moment the whole group looks over at me. People must wonder why someone so fun is going out with someone so quiet. Sometimes they think I’m fun by association and I worry that at some point they’ll discover that I’m a fraud. I try, but it’s not easy when you run everything you want to say round and round your head first to check that it isn’t weird. Then when you finally pluck up the courage to say it, the moment’s passed and they’ve moved on to talking about something else.
I’ll have another gulp of wine.
I think I’ll try to sidle up to a conversation and try to join in without anyone noticing. This group look like they might be friendly. They seem to be talking about some sort of book or film or TV show that I don’t catch the name of. But I start nodding along. The guy nearest to me notices and turns his head towards me.
‘Are you a fan?’
I should just ask what it is. But I’m already nodding. I can’t go back. ‘Yeah,’ I say, nodding even more vigorously. ‘I love that . . .’
What is it? Book? Film? I have no idea.
‘I love that.’
That’s right – repeating it makes you sound like you know what you’re talking about.
‘What’s your favourite bit?’ he says.
‘Oh, I just love the chara
cters. They’re great, aren’t they?’
A few of them smile politely for a second and then go back to their conversation, while I look around the room for a corner I can curl up and die in.
I spy Simon and Arlo standing in the kitchen. They’ll talk to me. But when I get in there they are huddled into some sort of intense discussion and Simon is waving a pack of cards.
‘I don’t think she’ll go for the strip poker. It’s too obvious,’ Arlo is saying.
‘Hmm, planning something more subtle, are we?’ Simon whispers, raising his eyebrows.
‘Charm,’ says Arlo, nodding.
Oh dear. Arlo is lovely, but I’ve only really heard him talk about computer games.
‘I was definitely getting somewhere the other night. We had a heart-to-heart for ages and you know, she kept showing me things.’ Arlo nods again, significantly.
‘Like what?’ says Simon.
I’m in that awkward position where you’ve walked into a room and no one’s noticed. What’s the best thing to say in that situation, which announces you are there and won’t make people think you’ve been lurking?
‘Like her legs,’ says Arlo.
‘She did not show you her legs!’ says Simon scornfully.
Perhaps if I put this cup down loudly they’ll see I’m here.
No. They don’t.
‘She did!’ says Arlo. ‘Well, it’s like, her legs were there and it was definitely for me to see.’
Simon scoffs. ‘After tonight, she’ll be showing me more than her legs.’
Now it’s Arlo’s turn to look sceptical.
‘Yeah,’ carries on Simon. ‘She’ll be showing me her . . .’ There’s a pause and a shuffle. ‘. . . vagina.’
‘I’m here!’ I say in a sing-song voice.
They start and look at me with slightly shocked expressions. I should have just gone with ‘hello’.
‘All right, Rosie?’ says Arlo. Simon nods at me.
‘Oh, good thanks. How are y—’
But they are already on their way out of the room and have gone back to their argument. I see some empty cocktail jugs on the side and think I may as well make myself useful. I hear the buzz of voices out in the hall and feel the quietness of the kitchen even more. I tell myself I’ll just walk up to someone and introduce myself when I go back in. If I go back in with drinks that will be a talking point, anyway.
I take a breath and swallow the sad bubble that’s crept into my throat. Then I feel warm arms slide round my waist. Cal rests his chin on top of my head.
‘Good evening,’ he says. He has his hands either side of me on the kitchen worktop. I turn round and wrap my arms around his neck. Our lips meet and he moves against me. Everything else melts away. Then he looks at me with the face I love – like he’s trying not to smile too much.
I slide my hands on to his shoulders and flick the strap of the lederhosen.
‘Ah.’ Cal nods and he puts on a ridiculous German accent. ‘Zis you find sexy?’
‘Very,’ I say and ping the strap again.
‘Ow!’ he laughs and leans in to kiss me.
‘Guys, guys!’ Simon and Arlo come crashing back through the door.
‘We’re going to play spin the bottle!’ says Arlo breathlessly.
‘Awesome,’ says Cal as they run back out again. He plays with a strand of my hair. ‘I guess we should rejoin the party.’ He wrinkles his nose.
‘Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss the gossip!’ I say and start towards the door. But Cal still has hold of my hand and I stop.
‘I’d rather stay in here and have a kiss,’ he says.
This is how it goes every time. He feels like he has to rescue me. To come and hide in an empty room just because I am.
‘They’ll think I’m keeping you from the fun. Come on!’ My voice is way more bright than normal. I sound mental.
I tug at his arm.
‘Ugh!’ he says and follows me, grabbing his beer from the side as we leave.
Chapter 5
Cleo is standing outside the living-room door, blowing smoke out of her mouth. She has a cigarette, obviously, although for a moment I have an image of her as some supernatural dragon woman.
She looks effortlessly elegant in a short black dress with lace at the bottom. But the impact is not quite the same as a few hours ago when she walked into Cal’s room wearing just her underwear to let us know the bathroom was free.
I’d just arrived so had my hair scraped up on top of my head and I was nice and sweaty after walking from the station. Her hair was like in the pictures I looked at – in ringlets cascading around her shoulders.
Cleo stopped when she saw me and frowned. ‘Who are you?’
‘This is Rosie,’ said Cal. ‘She’s staying for the summer. I’ve been talking about it all week!’
‘Oh right,’ said Cleo. ‘Sorry – I find stuff like that really boring. Why are you doing that, then?’
‘Um, I don’t know really,’ I said, caught off guard and temporarily misplacing my brain.
‘She has a super-amazing work placement,’ said Cal.
‘Lovely,’ said Cleo. And then walked out.
I thought about saying something about the fact that she’d not been wearing any clothes, but I didn’t. Nish says I need to ‘keep the crazy in’. Gabi thinks I should let it out and hope he loves me anyway.
Dan comes down the stairs and tells Cleo to take it outside, gesturing at the cigarette. He says it in a good-natured way, though.
‘Sorry, Dad,’ she says and rolls her eyes at Cal.
‘Oh, he dances like a dad too, don’t you, dude?’ says Cal.
Dan turns round. ‘My dancing is for your eyes only, babe.’ He blows Cal a kiss, then sees me hovering behind. ‘Oh hey, Rosie!’
I smile and say, ‘Hello’, except my voice catches in my throat and it comes out like a croaky growl.
Dan’s too polite to reference it, so he just says, ‘All right?’ and I nod and smile because I don’t want to risk growling again. Dan is someone I can turn to in these situations – he’s lovely and doesn’t judge me for being socially inept. He’ll just make a joke or something so I can relax.
I wonder if he and Cleo ever met when he was working at Radleigh?
* * *
‘What’s this game then?’ says Cleo, in a bored tone.
‘Spin the bottle,’ says Cal. ‘Are you playing?’
Did he say it hopefully?
Stop it, Rosie. Keep the crazy in.
Cleo shrugs. ‘Sure, why not? I’m a good kisser.’
We follow her into the room. I don’t know if Cal and I are supposed to be playing or if we’re just watching. What are the rules for something like this? We’re probably supposed to be so secure in our love for one another that we can sit around casually kissing other people and not be bothered by it.
Cleo sits on the arm of the sofa next to where Cal’s just sat down on the floor.
I would definitely be bothered by it.
Gradually everyone arranges themselves into a circle. I think for one (not very logical) moment that we’ll have to introduce ourselves like on the first day of college where we all had to say an interesting fact about ourselves.
I go to sit near Cal, but he pulls me over so I’m sitting in-between his legs. Then he puts his hands on my waist and traces circles on my hips. I lean back against his chest.
Simon gets things started by putting a bottle in the middle of the circle. ‘Just so you know, ladies, this is my bottle. So think about that when you have your hands around it,’ he says.
No one says anything, although a few people groan in disgust, so he carries on.
‘If anyone wants to spin my bottle in real life, my room’s just up there.’ He winks.
‘That doesn’t even make sense,’ says Arlo.
Someone else shouts for him to hurry up.
The first spin is a blond girl I don’t know. And when she spins she gets Dan, who gives her a half smile and crawls forwa
rd. She rolls her eyes, but looks excited.
‘That’s Liv,’ Cal whispers to me. ‘Dan has a major crush on her.’
Just before he gets to her Dan stops and says, ‘Wait.’
‘What are you doing?’ shouts Cal. ‘Kiss her, dude!’
‘I’m trying to make sure I don’t bottle it . . .’ says Dan and a groan goes up around the room. The girl shakes her head, but can’t fight away a smile.
Their kiss goes on so long it has to be broken up by an impatient Simon, who is constantly edging closer to Cleo on the sofa, who in turn is leaning away from him, so much so that her hand is hanging over the arm of the sofa. Just by Cal’s leg.
Dan spins and it takes ages to stop. It comes to a halt pointing towards our side of the room.
‘Cleo!’ says Cal.
Across the circle, Arlo and Liv – who Dan just kissed – have very similar expressions of wide-eyed jealousy that they are trying to turn into smiles. Cleo’s hand moves away from Cal’s leg as she starts to get up.
‘It was Simon,’ Dan says.
Cleo stops.
‘What?’ says Simon.
‘It’s clearly Cleo,’ says Cal and there are murmurs of agreement from around the room. Arlo is now looking at Dan like he’s insane.
‘If there’s something else you’d rather be doing don’t let me stop you,’ says Cleo. ‘I can find you some pots to wash if you want.’
Dan shrugs. ‘No, we may as well get it over and done with.’
Cleo blinks in surprise and then sinks back into the sofa.
‘Fine. Well, come and get it.’
‘Bet that’s not the first time you’ve said that.’ Dan grins as he gets up.
People laugh, but it’s in a kind of stilted way. That’s not Dan’s usual style of joke.
He leans over and their lips meet for about a second before he pulls back. They look at each other and for a moment I think they are going to lean back in again. But they don’t and Dan returns to his place on the other side of the circle.
Cleo gets up to do her spin. Lots of the guys shift around and look like they might be trying to take up more room in the circle.