Page 56 of The Book Swap

“You’re making no sense. Are you hungover?”

I laugh. “No. Anyway, that’s irrelevant. Is this your low-key way of saying you’re now both pregnant and engaged?”

She snorts. “Absolutely not. I told him to get a grip. A baby does not have to equal a life sentence in an unhappy marriage.”

“Our parents thought it did.”

After she’s hung up, I reread my sign, checking it for any mistakes. I do not want spelling errors on a sign advertising English tuition.

Experienced tutor with a 2:1 degree in English Literature, available to help prepare for GCSEs or A levels. £50 per session.

I didn’t include the quote Savannah offered me. I’m not sure “She got me my first C+!” is the advertising I’m after. I’ve added an email address which I’ve set up just for teaching, and passed it onto Savannah via her dad as well.

I’ve already got four of her friends in the year below lined up for weekly sessions throughout the summer holidays. I’m worried that I just got lucky with Savannah, and tomorrow, when it’s a different student, I might discover I’m awful at it. That I hate it. But until I know that, I may as well try. It’s what Bonnie would do.

I’ve figured out that between the dog walking and tutoring, I can make enough money to stay in London. That plus the very generous cash gift Georgia gave me as an early birthday present. I’m still having weekly sessions with Philippa, and she thinks that now that Callum’s moving out, it’s a good idea for me to keep the stability of my London flat. She doesn’t know the real reason I’m so terrified of leaving. I’ve kept it to myself that Bonnie lives in that room. That when I moved out of my flat in Stockwell and into the one in Loughborough Junction, there she was, waiting for me in the armchair, which came as part of the fully furnished agreement. I’ve never seen her anywhere else, and if I have to leave, I think it means I leave her too.

Cassie comes over in the evening to check out the flat. She messages on the way, apologizing that she’s definitely going to be early because the journey’s even more of a dream than she realized. I take that as a good sign.

I’ve messaged Callum to tell him I’ve got someone looking at his room. He sends back a thumbs-up. This is the only exchange we’ve had since I stood topless outside my bedroom, throwing his T-shirt at him.

The bell goes as I’m finessing the flat. I’ve lit a scented candle in the sitting room and fluffed the cushions. Cleaned the kitchen surfaces until they shine and added some fresh flowers. I’ve opened the door to Callum’s room to air it—did it always have that aroma, even when I crept in at night? I don’t remember it, which worries me. Turns out love—or lust—goggles are a real thing.

When I open the door, Cassie is bouncing up and down, her tight curls springing with each movement. She’s wearing oversize lilac trousers and a matching jacket, with a white crop top underneath. I’m envious of how well she knows how to dress for every season.

“Were you not tempted to stay in your awful job, purely for the commute?” she asks, walking into the kitchen and pointing with her thumb toward the front door, indicating the end of her dream journey.

“It’s pretty good, isn’t it?” I laugh, taking her jacket and throwing it on the back of an armchair.

She looks around the open-plan living room and kitchen, nodding. “This is so much nicer than my place.” She opens the door to the fridge and throws her head back, letting out a sigh of relief. “No labels on the shelves. Wait...do you even...share milk? I’ve been trying to convince the others that it makes so much more sense than all of us buying our own.”

“We do.” It’s not something I ever thought I’d be proud of.

“Go on then...show me the bedroom.”

“Be warned,” I say, leading her back toward the front door, where Callum’s room sits just off to the right. “It smells of man.”

Cassie screws up her face and then laughs, stepping in. “There’s space for a double bed and cupboards. I’m sold!”

She turns to look at me.

“Wait...actually?”

“Yes! I was already sold on the housemate and the journey alone. The flat itself had a pretty easy job.”

I clap, walking toward her for a hug. “I can’t believe it.”

“Me neither!” She pulls a bottle of rosé from the bag on her shoulder. “Now...shall we open this to celebrate?”

“Definitely.”

I take the bottle from her and reach up for the only two wineglasses we have in this flat. I bought them after I moved in and found Bonnie here. I used to take the bottle into my room, and pour one for each of us. I stopped when Callum noticed me washing up two glasses once and looked at me for a really long time before walking away. The significance of using this same glass for Cassie isn’t lost on me, but I know Bonnie wouldn’t be sad about it. She’d be so happy to know I’ve got a friend here. It’s not Bonnie who causes me to stop for a moment before I turn around, holding the glasses out—it’s me. It feels as though I’m leaving my best friend behind and I’m not sure it’s something I’m prepared for.

Cassie sits herself at the little round dining table on the other side of the kitchen bar. It’s not somewhere I’ve ever sat much before. When I first moved here, I’d eat the odd dinner there, angling the television toward me. But then Callum started to stay home more and more with his cycling shows on, and for some reason, because he lived here first, I felt as though he had more say over what we watched. I started disappearing to my room to eat, occasionally taking the other sofa if I didn’t want to be on my own. I can see how different it will be living with Cassie, and I wish it could start right now.

In the morning, I try the library again. I’m getting desperate. As I pass under the bridge, I glance up the road, in case anyone’s walking toward me. I still don’t know if I’m ready to meet Mystery Man, but the more I read his answers, the more I want to. There’s no one there so I go to the library, feeling less sure with every step that anything will be there—but I can see it. The bright red spine of Beloved, sitting next to another book. I wonder if he’s been brave back, and chosen something that might hint at how he feels about me. I open it up to the back page.

Meet me in On the Road?

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