at uni. Well, he’d smiled first anyway. Knowing her, she’d done most of the talking. What had started with shared jokes in class soon expanded to shared notes and study dates around exam time. So far so platonic.
Then they ran into each other at a party that some of the third years were throwing. Pressed together by their dancing classmates, heat and alcohol threw their friendship into a sexy new light. At least they did for Catherine. It took Richard a few weeks to catch up, but once he did they spent as much time together out of their clothes as they did in them.
Catherine did start wondering after a while whether there was more to Richard-and-Catherine than shared class notes and drunken fumbling. There was something about him. It wasn’t his looks – pale gingers were an acquired taste. But he was comfortable in his own skin, when most of the other boys covered up their self-consciousness with twattishness.
But she wasn’t about to spook him with any declarations. She’d done that to a boy once before, in school. He’d never spoken to her again. This time she planned to make a tentative query about their future that she could totally backtrack on if she needed to.
When he arrived for dinner with a bottle of wine, she kissed him hello like she always did when they were alone (rarely in public though).
‘Did you get me over here on false pretences?’ he asked, nuzzling her neck.
Had he guessed what she was planning?
‘If so, I totally approve,’ he said. ‘But I’ll need to have a snack before we …’
She laughed with relief. ‘No, dinner is in the oven.’ She untangled herself from his arms. ‘Wine?’
If he was disappointed that there’d be no naked starter he didn’t show it. That was the thing about Richard. He took everything in his stride. Their evening was as relaxed as usual, until they finished their meal.
‘I was wondering about something,’ she said.
Richard’s expression turned serious. She nearly chickened out then and asked if he wanted to watch a film instead of what she really wanted to know.
‘Have you lured me into some kind of relationship?’ she asked. Yes, a joke. That was good. It didn’t sound so threatening.
Her heart hammered as she twirled her wine glass by the stem, trying to look like she didn’t care too much about the answer.
‘You may have lured me,’ he said. ‘But I think we are. Aren’t we?’
Relief flooded through her. ‘I think so too. I just wondered because we didn’t start out in the usual way.’
‘What’s the usual way?’
‘You know. Dates and romance and all that.’
He laughed. ‘That’s never really been my thing.’
‘Nor mine. Relaxed and casual is much better.’
It was the first little lie of many.
So, relaxed and casual was how their relationship progressed until graduation. Neither asked the other to join holidays or family visits. They just rubbed along together, with Richard in her life but not part of it. She told him that was fine. Usually she believed it herself.
Besides, she wasn’t anxious to have her heart handed to her in pieces again. She did love Richard and she thought he probably loved her. It was enough to be best friends with her boyfriend. It was fun, relaxed and, above all, safe.
But soon their diplomas would be in hand. Decisions had to be made. Coming from England’s commuter belt, Catherine grew up dreaming of a career in London. Richard preferred Manchester and started applying for jobs there.
They were about to be geographically unsuitable and she didn’t fancy a long-distance relationship. But she didn’t want to call quits on it either. So she quietly applied for positions in Manchester too. When she got an offer before Richard, it looked a bit like he was following her. She liked that.
But when he was offered the job in the US a few years later, there was no way for Catherine to move there and make it look like an accident.
Rachel inspected James’s office from the doorway. How did he get any work done in such a tip? It looked like an overfull recycling bag had exploded on the floor. Magazines, hardback books and plans were piled everywhere, weighed down with coffee-stained mugs. He didn’t even bother putting his files on the shelves the right way around – they were shoved in there on their sides.
Scientists could grow disease cultures on his desk.
She felt her lips pinching with disapproval. It was a signature move inherited from her mum. Ordered space, ordered mind; that was her motto. Rachel had inherited that too.
He was hunched over, sketching furiously. She could see the red pen in his hand. That meant he was working on interior walls. He was as obsessive about his colour-coded pens as they all were.
‘James? Want to try the new sushi place with me?’
Light and breezy, that’s what she was aiming for. No ulterior motives here.
He glanced up from his tracing paper. ‘Thanks, I would but I’m kind of busy right now.’
‘Come on. I’d rather eat in and you know I hate sitting by myself.’
He didn’t look up again. ‘Why don’t you ask Alison or Beth?’
Creeping across the litter-strewn floor, Rachel hovered over his shoulder. The sketch was good. ‘I’ll buy.’
He threw himself over the paper like she was trying to copy his exam answers. ‘Could you get me takeaway if you’re going? You know what I like.’
‘Come with me.’
His head snapped up. ‘What’s up, Rachel?’
Damn.
‘Nothing’s up. Can’t a friend buy another friend lunch?’
He sighed, putting the cap on his Sharpie. ‘How long have we known each other?’
‘Around five years, I think.’
Five years in January, actually, plus extra credit time for the year they went out.
‘And after that long don’t you think I can tell when you’re up to something?’
‘You’re no fun to try to manipulate, do you know that?’
She pushed the rolls of tracing paper off his extra chair so she could sit. She’d hoped to do this over maki rolls.
‘James.’
