Another Love Read Free Page B

one tiny creature?’ he asked one afternoon as they ambled nonchalantly along. ‘Don’t you ever get bored?’ He prodded the textbook in her arms, whose cover displayed various pictures of the mayfly, her insect of special interest, about which she would write her dissertation.
    She wrinkled her nose beneath her glasses and took her time in forming a response. ‘Quite the opposite. The more I learn, the more I want to learn. I don’t think there can be anything as fascinating in the whole wide world, absolutely nothing, as a creature that is born knowing it will catch only one sighting of the moon. Just one! A creature that seeks the sun, knowing it has to live an entire life in a day! That’s incredible, don’t you think? The very opposite of boring. And that question is actually comical, coming from you, Mr Numbers. I mean, accounting and finance? Now that’s proper boring! I mean, God, if I had to look at numbers all day, I’d just say, shoot me now.’
    She glanced up at him uncertainly. Had she gone too far? Shut up, Romilly! Just shut up! You’re rambling because you’re nervous. He’ll think you’re a loser.
    His suggestion of a date came a whole month later, as they stood on the steps of the Wills Memorial Building. It left her speechless, quite literally staring at the space above his head, wondering if it was a joke or whether it was even worth it. The disappointment of him rejecting her after one date was possibly more than she could bear. She figured that if there had been any romantic intentions on his part, he would have made his move a while ago.
    His expression was searching. ‘So, is that a silent “Yes, I’d love to come for a light supper on the docks,” or a silent “Sod off”? I can’t tell.’ He laughed, that easy laugh that showed his beautiful teeth.
    ‘I’d love to,’ she squeaked.
    ‘Yes!’ He punched the air, and for the first time in her life, Romilly felt like a prize.
    Tessa, a girl in her halls, had insisted that she have a drink before she went off to meet him. Dutch courage, she called it, although there was nothing Dutch about the Russian vodka shot that she hurled down her neck. Romilly wasn’t fond of booze, didn’t like the taste much, apart from sickly sweet cocktails, fizzy wine and Pimm’s and lemonade in the summer. But this was not the time to be picky; booze flowed in every room on campus and she needed something to give her confidence, anything that might loosen her tongue and enable her to shine a little in front of this beautiful boy.
    It was just the one measure, but as the alcohol glazed the back of her throat with its heat, she felt her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. She smiled at the warm glow, which, she had to admit, took the edge off, just a little. She had ditched her glasses and positively shimmied out of her halls.
    From that night on, she and David fell effortlessly into coupledom. They were always invited out as a pair and referred to as a unit. It felt great.
    The day she took David to her parents’ house in Pewsey, Wiltshire was one she wouldn’t forget. Nerves had rendered her silent. Trying to control the quake in her gut, she wondered what he would make of her ordinary family in their ordinary house. Her dad, who grew enough tomatoes to keep Heinz in production; her mum, who scoured the hob until the shiny surface lifted; and her sisters, who lounged on the sofa in their tiny shorts and vests, sending pheromones out into the atmosphere with their utter, utter gorgeousness.
    Carrie and Holly did a double-take at the sight of their sister’s catch. He was far, far from the dorky, scrawny bibliophile that they’d been expecting. Her mum went into fussy overdrive, telling him just how clever her oldest daughter had always been, while force-feeding him Victoria sponge, homemade of course. She had whispered to Romilly through a sideways mouth as they ferried plates and cups to the kitchen, ‘You should have told me!’ Romilly was