Never A Choice (The Choices Trilogy (Book 1)) Read Free

a few locations across the city but the oldest and main part is the Quad, a cobbled courtyard surrounded on three sides by early nineteenth century buildings. They may no longer dominate the skyline as they once had but they are imposing nonetheless. I pass the Gate House and make my way through the crowds of students to the Student Information Centre. My main objective today, aside from the actual registration is to work out how I can fit my part-time degree into a full-time timetable without raising suspicion. I need to double up on the part-time units in whatever way my work time-table will accommodate. I really don’t want this degree to take the typical eight years when I know I can do it in three. As I see it, I just have to approach each subject tutor individually and get them to accept me taking their extra lessons in addition to the lessons I’m actually assigned and just hope they don’t compare notes. Simple.
    I move slowly down the corridors that have notice boards brimming with information on either side. Course and lecture information, clubs and interests, jobs and welfare; every food group is represented. I quickly scan the boards not that I will be ‘joining-in’ anytime soon, free time is a luxury I haven’t had in a while. I’m naturally drawn to the jobs and opportunities board and am surprised and intrigued by a simple small flyer pinned and fighting for space. Call centre, flexible late night hours-excellent pay. Not a huge amount of information but I tear off one of the strips with the contact number and slip it in my jacket pocket.
    I head toward the library with all my course information and stacks of flyers that have been pressed into my hands as I’ve wandered trying to get a feel for where I am and where I need to be. I would always gravitate toward the library, regardless. I can’t live without my kindle but really there is no comparison to finding yourself lost in a room with shelves stacked high, soft chairs scattered and quiet secluded corners surrounded by tombs of literature. Especially seductive if the building is as old as this, it’s like a warm blanket of knowledge waiting to unfurl around me. I find one of the silent areas and a comfy seat, sinking down I take my notebook and pencil from my bag and start to doodle as my mind drifts. The shapes my pencil make are repeating patterns of tightly bunched ears of corn, the image makes me smile.
    It was late August and I had agreed to open my exam results with John in the hayfield. I had waited for the postman and when he arrived I took the letter addressed to me, took a blanket, some provisions and a notepad and made my way to the hayfield. I walked through the churchyard and into the field which was full of dozing Friesians and lead to the field recently harvested for wheat. The farmer had baled and stacked the straw into several large blocks and I couldn’t see from the ground which one John would be on and he wasn’t going to make it easy by leaving any clues or answering me when I called. I know he was there; he was always there before me.
    I walked around three of the stacks and couldn’t even see any tell-tale flattened footprints or bent stubble, the only thing I could do was climb and look from the top. I called again.
    “You know a gentleman wouldn’t let me climb all the way up there, especially when I’ve brought food!” It was a semi whine but I knew questioning his manners would get a response.
    “Low blow Boo, you’re no fun you know?” He peeks is head over the edge of the stack I’m directly next to and I smile at his pout. His dark hair flopping into his warm chocolate eyes.
    “Yeah, I know, but you’d feel bad making me haul my arse up the wrong stack and you know it.” I sling my bag over my shoulder, tie the blanket around my waist and start to climb the straw bales. Poking my fingers and toes in hard to get purchase, I manage to grip and climb and John has his hand dangling for me to take and as soon