“You’re back early. I thought you’d be at Neve’s until the early hours, you know, talking and shit,” he adds with a grin.
“And what would you know about talking and shit with girls then, little brother? They’re not a real girlfriend if they’re only online, you know.” Josh blushes.
“What? Have you been going through my phone?” He immediately realises that I have him. “Shit. I fell right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but that’s okay. You can’t help being beaten by your cleverer big brother!” I fake-punch his leg and sit on the edge of his bed. “How’s it been here?”
“The usual. Grace had a rehearsal then went babysitting for Noah again and hasn’t got back yet. I’ve stayed up here. It sounded like a couple of them were having a fight earlier but, after Mum screamed at them like they were kids, they shut up.” Josh isn’t old enough to appreciate the irony of his words.
“I thought you were going to Callum’s?”
“I was but they were having a big family meal and I felt a bit weird staying, you know? His mum said I could but it felt wrong.”
“I know what you’re saying but I think she meant it. Seriously, she treats you better than Callum!” I am grateful for how much Callum’s family do for Josh: take him on holidays, let him stay over, even asking teachers about him at school parents’ evenings and then filling me in afterwards. Like Flynn’s parents have done for me, they have given him a sense of what family means.
“Yeah, but that’s why I don’t want to take the piss. Anyway, how was your night? Back in the land of love, are we?” The smoochy, kissy face he pulls is enough justification for another punch on the leg. “Oww!”
“So, how much did Grace tell you then?”
“Just that you fucked up and Neve is giving you a second chance.”
“Well, that’s all you need to know, baby bro. But, yes, all is good again. Thanks for asking. Now, let’s get some sleep.” I chuck a pillow at his head and move over to my own bed.
I fall asleep quickly, my brain freed from the torment which has become part of my bedtime routine over the last few weeks.
I dream of Neve.
I dream of us.
I dream of the future.
Any worries I have that Neve’s parents will be annoyed with me are soon dismissed when I get to their house. Flynn lets me in and Neve and her parents are already sat in the kitchen, eating breakfast and reading the newspapers, like they’re an advert for the perfect family. I can’t stop myself thinking back to the carnage in my kitchen which had stopped me attempting anything more than a glass of water before coming out.
“Hi, Jake. Fancy a bacon sandwich? I’ve got more under the grill and I don’t think Flynn will manage it all by himself!” Siobhan’s smile seems genuine enough and I start to relax.
“That would be great. Thank you.” I look across at Neve, who stands and yawns, arms stretching above her head. I squirm and try my damnedest not to look at the way her strappy top clings and moves with her.
She walks up to me and plants a kiss on my mouth. The smell of her hair and the momentary feel of her pressed against me is enough to turn me on and I have no choice but to sit on a stool, trying desperately to hide the fact that I have a hard-on in the presence of her brother and parents. She winks, knowing full well the effect she has had on me.
“I’m just going to get changed. Back in a mo!” She blows me a kiss and leaves the room. God, I love her, even if she does drive me the right type of crazy.
By the time Siobhan has put a plate piled with thick bacon sandwiches and a mug of tea in front of me, Neve is back and pulls up a stool next to me.
“What time are we leaving, Dad?”
“About two. I want to be back by nine.”
“Okay. We’ll be here by one so I can pack. That will give us enough time.” I have no idea what her plan is, but she clearly has one and I’m happy to go along with it, as long as I’m with her.
Once my plate is cleared, she tugs at my hand and says goodbye to her family. I’m in the van and pulling away from her house before I realise what’s happening. Or where I’m supposed to be going.
“I know I’m a man of many talents but telepathy isn’t one of them. You’re going to have to tell me the plan, Myrtle,” I say, taking her hand in mine to move the gearstick.
“I want to go to the gardens you’ve been working on.” Her answer surprises me as I expected her to want to go somewhere private, especially after her impatience to get back in my pants yesterday.
“Really? That’s how you want to spend our morning?”
“Well, not the whole morning, obviously, but part of it, yes. I want to see what you’ve done while I’ve been… away.” Her voice shakes on the last word and I am reminded of how much we have to recover from. I can’t deny her anything at this moment. Whatever she wants, I will give her.
Knowing the perfect place to start, we pull up outside Mrs Jones’s house a few minutes later.
“Come on, I want to introduce you to someone.” I get out of the van and hold her door open.
“Who?”
“Just another woman in my life.” I add a wink before she can worry and lead her up the path. Within seconds of me ringing the bell, the door opens and Mrs Jones greets us with the widest smile.
“Oh, Jake. How lovely to see you.”
“Hello, Mrs Jones. I just thought I’d drop by and see how the garden is.”
“It’s just dandy. Do you want to take a look?” I’d hoped she would say this.
“Yes please. This is Neve, my girlfriend.” I savour being able to say it, biting my tongue to stop myself repeating it over and over. My girlfriend.
“So, you’re the lucky young lady then? You’ve got yourself a keeper here. Such a lovely young man.” I blush as we follow her through to the back door.
“I know. I don’t intend letting him go,” Neve replies, grinning at me behind the old lady’s back.
“Why don’t you show your young lady the garden and I’ll make us all a cup of tea.” She disappears back into the kitchen before we can refuse.
“I think she loves you.”
“Of course. Who wouldn’t?” I worry it’s too early to make such a joke. Taking her hand, I kiss our joined fingers. “I’ll get her to tell you about her husband. She’ll love the chance to tell someone else.”
“You’ve become quite the romantic, haven’t you?” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me. “I’m not complaining. It’s sweet.”
“Oh, look at the two of you there. There’s nothing like young love.” Mrs Jones gazes into the distance. Into the past.
“It’s all doing well, isn’t it?” I ask, pulling her back to the here and now.
“Oh, yes. I’ve been watering the myrtle. Look how much it’s grown!” I look over and can see it has flourished since I was here last. “That was such a lovely gift, Jake.”
“It’s nothing.” It’s everything.
Mrs Jones sits down and, over tea and a slice of home-made cake, she tells Neve all about Jack. I sit back and watch the way Neve listens intently, asking thoughtful questions whenever the old lady drifts off into her memories.
When it’s time to go, we each hug Mrs Jones and I’m glad we’ve brought some happiness into her day. I promise to pop back soon and she waves us off as the van pulls away.
I drive to the house I worked on last week and show her the front garden from the van.
“What did you do there?”
“The usual tidying and planted a new hedge.” She knows.
“What’s the hedge made of?” She knows I know that she knows.
“Oh, you know, shrubs.” It’s a struggle to keep the grin in.
“And would those shrubs be myrtle?”
“Maybe,” is as much as I’m willing to say.
“You really are a romantic, aren’t you? How many gardens now have myrtle growing in them?”
“All of them.”
“All of them? Rea
lly?” Her voice is tinged with some emotion I can’t work out.
“All, except one.” I tell her the story of the lonely housewife who made a move on me. Well, most of the story.
“I think this is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, Jake. I don’t know how you’ll ever top it.”
“I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying,” I promise, leaning over and kissing her.
“Shall we go to the park?” The weather is too nice to mean we can have a repeat of yesterday, but that’s okay. I’m happy to just be near her.
We sit on a bench, close to the play area, and watch the families making the most of the chilly but bright morning. My mind wanders to images of us as a family doing the same. There’s a little girl, with the same long, blonde hair as Neve, who runs ahead of us. I’m teaching a fair-haired boy to ride his bike. Neve is recording it on her phone and laughing at his wibbly-wobbly success. We are the perfect, happy family.
“You okay? You look miles away.”
“Yeah, just thinking.” There’s no bloody way I can admit what I was thinking about. We’ve only been back together a day. And we still need to sort things out. Clear the air so we can move on.
But not now. Not today.
I turn to face her and rest my forehead on hers.
“I know we need to talk about what happened, but I want us to have enough time to work out what the future will look like. I’ll get things covered so that I can come to yours the weekend after next. Would that be okay?”
“Of course.” Her lips lightly touch mine. “And we’ll sort it.” Kiss. “I promise.” Kiss. “I’m not losing you again.”
I kiss her back, showing her I feel exactly the same.
God, I love this girl.
“So, you’re back to playing Romeo and Juliet?” I smiled at Kema’s little dig, having spent enough time around her to know she couldn’t help her sarcasm.
“Don’t say that. They ended up dead!” Mickey cried, helping himself to another slice of pizza. We were supposed to be having a study party, but it had somehow ended up being more about gossip around the kitchen table than revision.
“Okay. Which story is it like then? All those stupid fairy tales we’re fed from birth where the only thing for a girl to do is get herself a prince and she’s guaranteed a happy-ever-after? They don’t even have a life after they get married, for God’s sake!”
“They’re not all like that,” Ruby said, quietly standing up to Kema’s strident feminism. “And those stories are hundreds of years old, from when girls didn’t have any life other than being a wife and mother. It’s different today.”
“So, tell me a story which ends differently then.”
“This isn’t a story. This is Neve’s life.” I could have applauded Ruby, but hugged her instead.
“Thanks, Rube. Look, I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. But who does? Life throws shit at you sometimes. I just know I want to be with Jake when it does. That’ll do for now. I’m not naïve enough to expect it will be plain sailing to a happy-ever-after.” Of course, that was what I wanted, what I hoped for, but Kema wasn’t the person to admit that to. “More importantly, who wants ice cream?”
After we had shared the tub of chocolate deliciousness, Kema left and the three of us moved to Ruby’s room. Sitting on her bed, surrounded by candles and incense, we again pretended to study. Ruby was the first to admit defeat.
“I’ve had enough. I know I’m doing well enough to pass these courses and that’s all we’ve got to do this year.”
“True. I’m thinking about swapping to just American Studies at the end of this semester,” I shared.
“Really? But I thought you loved English Lit? Don’t get me wrong, it’ll be great to have you in more of my classes, but don’t rush into anything. There’s a few weeks until you have to confirm next semester’s choices.” Mickey surprised me with his sensible advice.
“Why do you want to swap?” Ruby asked.
“I’ve just been thinking about it and I prefer those classes. The only thing I’m not sure about is the year in the States. You have to do that if it’s your major.” I knew it would be difficult to spend a year in America without Jake. But I also knew we could survive it.
“So, it’s nothing to do with Garrett, then?”
“No. Not really. Not much.” I knew the real answer to Ruby’s question, just as much as she did. It was a hopeless lie.
“If it is, you can sort that out. You shouldn’t change your course just because he’s being so vile.” Ruby’s comment had me intrigued. We hadn’t talked much about him after I ignored her initial warning.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, with the things he’s saying.”
“The things he’s saying? What the hell is he saying?” I had taken his silence as a positive thing. It turned out he wasn’t being so silent after all.
“Oh, God. I thought you knew.” She looked at Mickey, whose face gave away his lack of surprise.
“You knew? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t want to mess up the weekend for you… and I’d hoped it would just go away. That he would go away,” he admitted.
“What would? What has he been saying?” I needed to hear it, however bad it was. And it was bad.
Garrett was spreading rumours, lies, about me. Both Mickey and Ruby had heard them via friends of friends. Apparently, I was a sleazy tramp of a girl: we’d even been caught almost having sex by the seafront. Apparently, I sought out rich boys for rough, dirty sex and then made them buy me things: things like dresses from posh shops. Shit. The glimmers of truth to the rumours were enough to make the whole thing all too real.
“Why are people believing him? You said he’d spread rumours about that other girl. Don’t they know what a bastard he is?”
“Possibly. But he’s also charming. And rich. People want to be liked by him. So they side with him and play friendly. At your expense.”
“What do I do?”
“Nothing. They’re rumours. As soon as people see that you don’t have anything to do with him, or any other guy here, they’ll forget it. What are your other options? Take him on? The girl never wins in a slut-shaming contest, Neve.” As pissed off as I was by what he said, I knew Mickey was right.
I needed to lay low and that fitted in with my plans for the next couple of weeks. I wanted to clear all of my work so I could spend some undisturbed time with Jake when he came down. I’d go to classes and stay close to my room. Things would calm down.
Yeah, right.
Three days of self-imposed isolation later, my Victorian Literature tutor asked me to stay after her seminar. As the other students left the classroom, I was nervous. I’d never been someone to get into trouble at school, and the serious tone of her request made me anxious.
She took a seat at right angles to me and took out the essay I had handed in a couple of weeks earlier. I breathed a sigh of relief, believing it was just a personal feedback session.
“I’ve had to grade this a Fail, Neve.” What? I’d never failed an English assignment in my life. My horror must have been clear on my face. “I know that is hard to hear, but you must have expected this could happen. It was a calculated risk, after all.”
“What? I don’t know what you mean? What risk?”
“Colluding on an essay. We know that many students study together, but the university made it very clear in the induction programme that all assignments must be completed individually. You’ve had clear information on the regulations around collusion and plagiarism.” I knew that. But I didn’t know why she was telling me that.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Are you suggesting I’ve colluded on this essay?”
“I’m not suggesting it, Neve. We know it has taken place.” The calm, utterly-patronising tone of her voice riled me.
“But it hasn’t. It was all my own work. I slaved over that essay. How can you say this?”
&
nbsp; “Now, there’s no point getting angry. What’s done is done. What we do need to do is talk about the consequences of your choice.” What choice? I was still completely unaware as to what I had done, but I needed to calm down before I made the situation worse.
“I’m sorry, Hillary, I don’t get it. That essay was all my own work. Honestly.”
“I spoke to Garrett yesterday and know what you’ve been going through,” she said quietly, her voice laced with false sincerity. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear his name mentioned as part of the next crappy turn my life appeared to be taking.
“What has this got to do with Garrett?”
“Well, I showed him the similarities between the two essays and he admitted it straight away. He told me about helping you. I wish you’d come and spoken to one of us about, you know, the problems with your boyfriend. We understand what it can be like in your first few months here. We would have listened. As it is, once you’ve submitted the work, it has to be awarded a Fail. I don’t know if you thought changing seminar groups would make it less likely to be found out, but—”
“Helping me? Sorry… I still don’t understand what is going on. Garrett hasn’t helped me at all with the essay. And, if it’s about my so-called problems, well, he’s it. He’s my problem! And that is my bloody essay!”
“Now, calm down, Neve. You need to face up to what you’ve done. Both you and Garrett get the same sanction. This doesn’t mean you’ve failed the course, but you have now got an academic misconduct warning. The next time you get one, if there is a next time, you will be issued with a final academic warning. That would put you at risk of having to leave.” Having to leave? The bastard had now managed to put my university place in jeopardy? I have never regretted anything in my life as much as speaking to him that first time.
“Do you have a copy of the two essays?” I needed to see how he had managed to do it.
“I’ve attached a copy of Garrett’s to your work, as per the regulations. I’ve highlighted the evidence of collusion. As Garrett has admitted to it, there is a very limited right of appeal; the process is outlined in this letter. What I suggest you do, Neve, is learn from this. If you’re struggling or need help, ask. Don’t think this is the answer.” Knowing I wasn’t going to get any support from her, I took the essay and left. Seething.
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