“Right, so apart from looking like a Grecian god, what’s so great about this guy?”
“Everything,” she said. “He’s smart, he’s thoughtful, he motivates me.” As she said it, she realized she didn’t need to embellish or exaggerate. Rob really was wonderful.
“Richard is all those things,” John said.
“He’s a pet, it’s not the same,” she said.
John frowned and covered his dog’s ears. “Don’t call him that. He doesn’t like it,” he whispered.
“Ha ha,” she said dryly, though she found herself smiling. “So, are you dating, or happy to be man and his dog and his rare plants forever?”
“Forever is a long time,” he said lightly, but his eyes held the weight of something unspoken. He cleared his throat. “Chloe, I don’t want to be rude, but I have some work I was planning to do on the journey. Would you mind if I did some scribbling? I’m just worried I won’t have much time this weekend.”
“No, fine. Sure. You do what you need to do,” she said, blinking at the abrupt change in tone. It had felt like they were slipping back into an old groove, but now his voice was polite, distant. He half-rose from his seat, gesturing toward the overhead locker.
“I just need to get something from my bag.”
“Sure,” she said, standing up and moving into the narrow aisle so he could get past. As he reached for his bag, she caught the way his shirt pulled tight across his shoulders, his brow knitted in concentration, as he opened the backpack. Looking around, she noticed all the rows of empty seats around them.
“Why don’t I just sit over here,” she said, gesturing to the seat opposite, “let you and Richard have some space.” He patted the notepad in his hand, gave her a single nod, then silently tucked himself back in by the window with Richard.
Chloe reached for her own bag and pulled outThe Age of Innocence. In her new seat she crossed and uncrossed her legs, sat straighter, trying to get comfortable. Why would this side be less comfortable? She felt off-kilter, like being on an escalator that suddenly stopped. She glanced over at John. He was already hunched over, swiftly writing musical notes on staff paper in a thick, worn leather notebook. He looked lost in thought—not unfriendly, justelsewhere.
She flicked through the pages of her own book listlessly. A strange, unfamiliar feeling came over her. This never happened…
She didn’t feel like reading.
8
Rob met her at thebus stop holding a single white rose.
“For you,” he said, handing it to her and then pulling her into his arms for a hug. It felt like a moment she might have seen in a black-and-white film.
“Aw, thank you. I’m sorry I missed the bus,” she said, feeling herself grin from ear to ear. It was these small gestures that she appreciated in Rob. How many men would think to meet you off the bus, with a rose? “How was your journey?” she asked him.
“Good, I got to talking to some of your friends,” he said, then nodded toward Harriet Townsend and Amara Ali, who were standing on the pavement opposite, mid-gossip. Harriet looked just the same as she did on her Instagram feed, tall and slim with a chic black bob and huge feline eyes. Amara, on the other hand, looked very different from how Chloe rememberedher. At college, she’d rocked a monobrow and wild frizzy hair; now her tresses were a glossy chestnut sheet, and two distinct eyebrows were shaped to within an inch of their lives.
When they saw Chloe, they waved, then giggled and whispered behind their hands. Then Harriet called, “Hey, Chloe. See you later, Rob!” Amara shot her a look. Was that jealousy or respect? She wasn’t sure.
John and Richard were stepping off the bus now, so Chloe felt obliged to introduce them. “Rob, this is an old friend of mine, John. John, this is Rob.”
“Old friends, are we?” John said with a careless smile. But she couldn’t tell from his tone whether he was teasing her again or genuinely disputing this characterization of their relationship.
“Yes, we are,” she said, giving him a confused smile.
He met her gaze with a challenging look, one eyebrow raised in a gesture that could have been skepticism or amusement. Then he turned and extended a hand to Rob. “Nice to meet you, Rob.”
What did he mean? Of course they had been friends.They might have drifted in third year, after she and Sean stopped hanging out, but theyhadbeen friends.
“What a fine animal,” Rob said, looking down at Richard.
“Do you hear that, Richard? He thinks you’re a fine animal,” John told his dog. Rob bent down to pat Richard, but Richard cowered, moving to hide behind John’s leg. The dog then turned around and cocked his head at Chloe, a questioning expression on his sweet, pointy face.
“I’m more of a cat person,” Rob said, awkwardly standing up, then taking a step back.
“That will be it. Richard’s got a strong instinct for these things,” said John.
Chloe slid her arm through Rob’s, keen to extract him fromthis conversation. Something about the way Richard was looking at him unnerved her.
