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“Cool.” She turned towards me. “So, how old is he? People say the age gap is huge.”
I didn’t flinch. “Forty-eight.”
Even she rose her eyebrows, but she didn’t frown.
“Yep,” I said. “Thirty years between us.”
“Plenty old enough for him to know his own mind, then. That’s the way I see it. Unless he’s an absolute total liar, feeding you a whole load of total and utter bullshit, he must be pretty damn sure you’re the one.”
I hadn’t seen it quite like that. “He’s definitely not feeding me bullshit. I know that.”
“Youfeelit, right? I’m like that with Peter. He goes crazy for me. Not just in the bedroom, but everywhere. It’s better than anything else I’ve ever seen in other couples. Most people always seem to be whining about the person they’re with, or their relationships are full of drama or shit, you know?”
Yeah, I did know.
She laughed. “If anything, it’s the other way around. It’suspeople should be worried about fuckingthemover. We’re the ones more likely to change our minds. Or you’d think so, based on their logic, since we’re soimmature.”
Another good point.
“I can’t see me changing my mind on Julian. Not ever.”
“Me, neither. Me and Peter are for ever.”
I looked at her fresh, feeling the friendship, wanting to know her.
Her hair was in the same kind of braid as yesterday, but the ribbon was green this time. It caught the light so well, she looked like a mermaid. She was dressed in a turquoise mini dress, with big black boots on her feet. Cute. Somehow I doubted she hadPeter’s Slutwritten on her in marker pen, but who was I to make that call? She could have his name tattooed all over her pussy for all I knew.
She took out a pack of cigarettes from her satchel and offered me one, but I turned her down with athanks. I watched her light up, then opted for a pretty hardcore question.
“What is it about Peter that makes himthe one?”
She didn’t hesitate.
“A million things. He’s really creative, but he doesn’t think so. He went into scaffolding work along with his dad when he was a teenager, and that hasn’t ever changed. He seems to think that because he’s not Picasso, there’s no point in trying. I think he’d be a brilliant artist, actually, if he gave himself the chance. He’s great at pointing out stuff when I’m working on mine, and his colour skills are crazy good. I just wish he’d give himself the chance and believed in himself as much as he believes in me. Maybe one day.” She looked at me. “What’s Julian like? I heard the rumours that he’s posh.”
“He’s posh, yeah. Looks amazing in a suit. He was a university professor, before he left Oxford.”
“What subject did he teach?”
“English,” I tapped into her creativity thread. “Years ago, he wanted to be an author. He’s amazing, too. Seriously. I’ve read some of his old manuscripts.”
“That must be fun. Maybe he’ll show me some of his words, if I show him some of my art?”
That made my heart soar. I’d love to see his face as someone else applauded him, because they would. He could create whole worlds at his fingertips, and they were so vivid, so real, so… awesome.
“Fancy coming over to ours sometime? Julian suggested it, actually. He’s a great chef, cooks an amazing meal. It would be great to hang out. I’d love to meet Peter, too.”
“Really?” She grinned so bright. “Sounds good to me. Might be a stepping stone to hitting the great outdoors. Imagine that. We could be out partying together before you know it. That would be dream worthy.”
The idea made me so happy.Friends.
“I’d love to see your art, too,” I said. “I noticed your backdrop on your laptop yesterday. You did that?”
“Yeah, I did. Can’t wait to get qualified and have more of an outlet.Hopefully. Roll on summer.”
She was in the same year as me. My exams and qualifications were looming. But I hadn’t thought about that, yet. I hadn’t really ever considered it. I’d never figured it was likely I’d be leaving Mum behind, my attention was usually all on her.
I sat with Lola on the college wall for way over an hour before we said our goodbyes and headed home. It wasn’t just forbidden lovers and being cast out by everyone we talked about, conversation flowed easily around the rest of life as well. We were two very different peas in a similar pod, nothing alike, but that didn’t matter. There was something that seemed to click between us. It was so nice to feel like that after so long. Thank you, Julian and Peter.
