Page 34 of Meet Me in Berlin

Mum points the remote at me. ‘I didn’t raise you to sleep with two people at once. Sort things with Eva before you go chasing after more minge.’

Jaz cackles and Chandice yells, ‘Mum!’

‘Oh my God,’ I say. ‘For a start, don’t say “minge” to me, please. And I’m not sleeping with two people at once. I’ve just been thinking about Holly and where she might be now. Am I not allowed to wonder about someone?’

‘I’m just saying, you’ve done this sort of thing before,’ Mum says.

‘Then don’t say. I’m having a night off from Eva so I can work out some shit in my head. Okay?’

Mum clicks her tongue and flicks over to the Coronation Street omnibus.

‘Why don’t you just look her up online?’ Chandice says.

I give an exasperated huff. ‘Do you really think I haven’t done that?’

‘Well, no, but you’re not that clued-up when it comes to online stalking, are you?’

‘I can’t be arsed with it, that’s why.’

‘Have you looked up where she went to university?’ Chandice asks. ‘Like her degree, year of graduation, that sort of thing?’

Mum throws a cushion Chandice’s way. ‘Oi, you, stop bloody encouraging her.’

‘She’s not going to stop wondering until she has answers,’ Chandice says. ‘She’s got a bloody tattoo reminder, for God’s sake. I’m just trying to speed up the process.’

‘I looked up her university a few times, like the year after we were in Berlin and again a few years later, but I couldn’t find anything. I’ve tried to remember her last name, but it won’t come to me. All I remember is that it was different, not a common name.’

It was the first day we met that Holly told me her last name. After spending hours wandering the gallery, we went for a walk along the river. She was telling me a story about one of her lecturers who always used the students’ full names when he was frustrated, then she mimicked him, using her own name as an example. As she talked my eyes drifted to her lips, and all I could think about was how magical she looked with the sinking sun behind her and how much I wanted to kiss that mouth.

‘What was the Melbourne university?’ Chandice asks. ‘And what degree?’

‘Um, it was a tech. Melbourne technology or something? Creative arts. It had a lot of photography in it, though. She was always taking photos and studying photography for her course.’

Jaz and Chandice both tap their phone screens.

‘Hmm,’ Chandice says. ‘There’s a stack of universities in Melbourne.’

‘Melbourne University of Technology?’ Jaz asks.

I nod. ‘Maybe, yeah.’

‘There’s a University of Melbourne, too,’ Chandice says.

‘Mmm, no, it definitely had technology in its name.’

They keep tapping and scrolling.

‘I found a Holly Morris, did arts and law at a Monash University,’ Chandice says.

‘No, she definitely didn’t do law. And I’m sure her last name wasn’t Morris. I would’ve remembered that.’

Chandice keeps scrolling. ‘Here’s a Holly Craddock. She’s a project manager at Melbourne University of Technology.’

‘Hmm, Craddock … that’s vaguely familiar. Maybe it’s just a name I’ve heard somewhere else.’

Chandice taps some more. ‘Her work bio says she did creative arts at the same university, followed by a master’s. Graduated from the undergraduate degree ten years ago.’

My heart rate picks up and Jaz looks at me, wide-eyed.

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