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“Because you only went and bloody did it. You’re about to graduate with a first class degree and I’m scared stupid that you’re not going to want to be my best friend any more.”
“Don’t be silly.” I squeeze her tight. “You’ll always be my best friend. I won’t forget everything you’ve done for me.”
Her eyes glisten when she steps back. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“It’s only for six months,” I tell her. “Anyway, you’re going to come and see me, right? Even if I have to buy your air ticket.”
“An all-expenses paid trip to New York? Let me think about it…” Ellie scratches her chin with her forefinger. “Um, okay, if I have to.”
The smile I give her is genuine, and warmth floods my chest when I look at her. If it wasn’t for her support over these past two months I don’t know if I’d have survived. “Your sacrifice won’t go unnoticed,” I tell her.
She’s about to say something when a voice comes over the tannoy, announcing the start of the ceremony.
I shout a hasty goodbye and run back to my chair in the auditorium, my navy-blue graduation gown billowing behind me. As I sit down I tuck my hair into the matching mortarboard that we’ve hired for the day.
A good thing about having a surname near the beginning of the alphabet is that I’m one of the first to be called. Of course, everything is relative, and there are still hundreds of ‘As’ and ‘Bs’ before me, but in a fairly short time I find myself crossing the stage to be handed my degree.
I’m no longer a student, but a graduate. I have a degree that nobody can take away. And this qualification has led to an offer of six months in New York, working for Daniel Grant.
When I climb down the steps on the other side of the stage, I scan the audience for my family. Mum, Alex, Andie and Lara are clapping madly, and when my brother catches my eye, he waves, pride written all over his face.
I don’t know how he managed to get a ticket, when the allocation was strictly two per graduate. A couple of weeks ago he called to tell me he had managed to secure another two, and that he and Lara would be accompanying Mum and Andie. I hate to think what he did to get them—knowing Alex it was probably highly immoral or costly—but I’m so glad he’s here.
After all, it was their love and support that got me here.
With my rolled-up certificate firmly in my hand, I make my way back to my seat. In spite of the warm day outside, there’s a chill breeze in the auditorium, and I can feel goose bumps break out across my skin. My mind wanders as I sit and shiver, barely noticing as names are called out, and friends and strangers alike walk across the stage.
Instead I wonder why I’m not feeling more victorious, and why this achievement doesn’t taste as sweet as it should. After all, I’ve crossed off two steps in my plan; I’ve got my degree and I’ve secured a placement in New York, enough to get me the hell out of Plaistow.
It doesn’t take long for my thoughts to turn to him. Like a compass, the needle always points north. To Edinburgh.
In the months since I last saw Callum, I’ve had no contact. Nothing at all. Every now and then, when I was feeling particularly masochistic, I looked his name up on the messaging system at Richards and Morgan. Seeing the online icon lit up next to his name always made my heart speed, the same way it did when he used to smile at me.
I don’t know how I got through that first month. Each day was a struggle. Getting out of bed felt like wading through tar. The pain was physical as well as emotional. My chest ached, my stomach turned, and my muscles felt as though I’d been through ten rounds in the boxing ring. Sleep led me an elusive dance—always beyond my reach.
In the final few weeks of my placement, things were no better at Richards and Morgan. Half of the interns ostracized me—on Caro Hawes’ instructions, I assumed—and the others just looked at me with pity. Gossip followed me around the office like vultures around a carcass, but whether their suppositions came close to the truth I never found out.
I simply didn’t care.
The nights were the worst. In the daytime, even when I was at my lowest, I could be distracted by work, conversation and the lure of bitter coffee. But when I went to bed there was nothing but darkness and the twisting spirals of my depressive thoughts. Each memory would be like a hand crushing my heart, reminding me of all I had, and of everything I lost.
The second month was better. Though the pain remained, my placement coming to an end was a balm to my troubled soul. I’d loved my work but I hated the office, and I especially despised the memories that seemed pasted to the walls like paper. I couldn’t wait to leave, working in the same company as him was stopping me from moving on. That’s why I jumped at the offer of a job in New York. Leaving London was the only thing I had to look forward to.
“Amy?” I look up to see Alex standing in front of me. Before I can say anything he pulls me out of my chair and against his chest, his tattooed, muscled arms wrapping around my slight frame. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispers into my hair. “The first Cartwright to get a degree.”
Before I know it my family are surrounding me, and we’re a tangled mess of hugs and tears. My mum sobs loudly, enough for people around us to stare, and Andie suggests we head to the pub. I say goodbye to the few friends I made on the course, and let my family lead me out of the hall. As always, everybody is talking at once.
We’ve hired the function room at a local pub; a small, wood-panelled room with high, vaulted cei
lings and dusty windows that block out the sun. Alex and Andie clubbed together to pay for the buffet, and Mum has laid on the Prosecco. Shortly after we arrive, the room fills with family and friends. They hug me and ask me to model my mortarboard for them. In the end I cave in and let them take photos, all too aware that these embarrassing pictures will follow me around for the rest of my life.
Digger walks in about twenty minutes later, and comes over to congratulate me. He presses a card into my hand, his fingers rough from years of hard work, his eyes wary when Alex approaches us. Though neither of them says a word to each other, I count the lack of punches as a victory. Today is my day, and for now an armistice has been called.
A few of the interns and managers from Richards and Morgan—those who are still talking to me—pop in during their lunch breaks from work. Although they’re still on Company time, it doesn't seem to phase them as they accept glasses of sparkling wine and stuff their mouths with sausage rolls. A few months ago I’d have been mortified for them to meet my family, but now I introduce them to Mum, Andie and Alex with pride.
“Pleased to meet you.” Charlie reaches out to shake my brother’s hand. He looks alarmed at all the tattoos and the muscles that define Alex’s arms but he manages to keep his calm.
Jonathan runs in for ten minutes between meetings. I’ve already had my leaving presentation at work, when he said lovely things before gifting me a Mont Blanc pen and £300 worth of Amazon vouchers. He takes the time to introduce himself to my mum, making sure to tell her how well I’ve done, and how sad Richards and Morgan are to see me go.
