The next morning an early haze burned quickly away to reveal a cloudless blue sky. Emily’s leg muscles throbbed as she pounded along the beach. Running on sand was so much harder than jogging through the park near her London flat. But the salty sea air, the warmth of the sun on her skin and the gentle lapping of the waves on the shoreline were like a balm to her soul and spurred her on to keep running. Every step helped to clear her head a little more after drinking far too much last night. She hadn’t drunk that much in years. Since before Jack was born.
Seeing the others was always a bittersweet experience – it churned up so many mixed feelings. Most of all, it made her long to turn back time to their first year of university when they were all living together in the same halls of residence, young and clueless before life got in the way.
Sophie and Melissa had shared a room, while Emily and Amy had occupied the single rooms either side of them. Naturally, Melissa and Sophie were particularly close, meaning Amy and Emily also paired off. But from the start, the four of them were a tight unit. Emily had loved those days. Looking back through the prism of time, they seemed so carefree and untroubled – when problems weren’t really problems at all. They were just excuses for tearful dramas, followed by whole nights sitting up drinking and talking until dawn, dissecting and condemning whoever might have slighted one of them.
Those were Emily’s last memories of being truly happy. After that first year, when they all went their separate ways, everything changed. Sophie moved in with Steve, while Amy and Melissa shared a flat. They asked Emily to move in with them but she chose to stay in halls.
She never told the others the real reason she wanted to be close to the university but she sometimes wondered if they guessed. Anton was her tutor and over the course of her first year, Emily had grown increasingly attracted to him. In his late thirties, he was tall, tanned, blond and devastatingly charming. He was also devastatingly married with two young children.
Emily told herself that it was just a crush and that nothing could ever happen between them but however hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to contain her feelings for him. In fact, with each passing month, they grew stronger until he had become something of an obsession. She would find excuses to spend extra time with him, citing the need to go over her last essay in greater detail or to discuss a new theory she had about a particular author. Just being alone with him was enough.
Anton seemed impressed by her dedication to her studies and certainly didn’t discourage her from asking for more help. Over time she convinced herself that the attraction was mutual.
The others would sometimes tease her and call her a swot or a teacher’s pet but they never actually asked if there was anything going on between them. The closest they came was when Melissa had wondered aloud whether it was Anton that was the attraction, rather than the Breton Lays in Middle English. Emily had laughed it off, pointing out that even if she did think Anton was very attractive, she would never make a move on a) a married man or b) her tutor. ‘I would get the blame and I’d be thrown off the course.’
Melissa had pondered this for a moment. ‘He’d be blamed too. He could lose his post.’
‘Well, it’s a good job there’s nothing going on then, isn’t it?’ Emily had countered, relieved to have been able to deny it so categorically.
After that, it was never mentioned again, and Emily was able to indulge her obsession without being questioned. Her results improved and she was seen as the top student in her year, destined for a first-class degree, followed by a big career.
‘It’s down to you,’ she told Anton, when she gained the highest marks in her exams at the end of the second year.
Anton had smiled the slightly crooked smile that she had spent so many nights dreaming about and reached out to take her hand. Emily’s heart banged in her chest, wondering if this was the moment he would finally admit his feelings for her.
‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
She nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.
‘I’m leaving.’
Emily blinked. She must have misheard. It wasn’t possible.
‘Leaving?’
Anton nodded. ‘I’ve got a new job. In Durham. I won’t be back next term.’ He was looking at her earnestly. Apologetically.
Emily’s thoughts lurched ahead to her third year, stretching out before her like a barren wasteland. He had to reconsider. ‘What about me?’ she said, realizing as the words left her lips how childish they sounded.
‘You’ll be fine!’ He squeezed her hand, his eyes holding hers. ‘You’re doing so well. Just keep it up and you’ll get the first you deserve.’
‘I don’t care about a bloody first!’ Emily spat, her thoughts tumbling furiously over one another.
Anton dropped her hand and cleared his throat. ‘Look, Emily, you’ve worked so hard. Don’t blow it now.’
Emily gazed at him in disbelief. As she did so, it dawned on her that this was a common scenario for Anton. Students fell for him all the time. Of course they did. He was gorgeous. She wasn’t the first and she wouldn’t be the last. The realization hit her like a sledgehammer blow.
‘All this time, you must have been laughing at me—’
‘No!’ The vehemence of Anton’s denial made her catch her breath. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘I have never laughed at you. I, well, if things had been different…’ He left the words hanging in the air between them.
‘Don’t.’ Emily stood up and smoothed down her jeans, swallowing back the tears that were thick in her throat. ‘Just… don’t.’
Anton watched her as she gathered her bags together. His pale blue eyes glittered slightly but he didn’t speak.
‘Well. Thank you. Good luck in your new job.’ Her words sounded forced. Which is what they were.
‘Thank you, Emily. Good luck with the rest of your course. I look forward to reading your first novel one day.’
‘Yeah. Right.’ Emily threw him a final glance over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.
It would be almost a year before she saw him again.