Page 147 of You Float My Boat

25.:

(Warning: the Boat Race may cause heart palpitations)

Violet

‘Hey, watch where you’re bloody going, will you?’ yelled Stella, turning to the guy who’d almost knocked her over as he ran to the bar, but he’d already been swept up in a sea of Boat Race supporters all clamouring to get there before the men’s race. ‘I’m kind of wishing we went for lunch with your parents. At least we would have got drinks in first.’

I shook my head. ‘No way. We’d have to listen to my mum prattle on about Hugo, not to mention Charlie’s parents would be there, and I don’t know what they know. I’d be too nervous to eat anyway.’

‘Yeah, but then we wouldn’t HAVE TO DEAL WITH PEOPLE NOT LOOKING WHERE THEY’RE GOING.’ This time her anger was aimed directly at the guy who’d hurried past holding four pints, and very narrowly missed spilling one over her.

At least this time she got a mumbled ‘sorry’ before he ran off to his friends.

Slipping my hand into hers, I tugged her away from the river path we were walking down on our way towards the Ship, the pub directly on the Boat Racefinish line. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea in the world to come here. The sun was shining again so ten thousand other people had come up with exactly the same plan.

But the Ship was the place to be if you wanted the best views.

‘Come on, we have forty minutes before the race starts, which means we have just less than an hour to get our spot on the balcony. We can definitely wrangle a space before then.’

‘I hope so.’

‘We will,’ I promised as we walked past an enormous guy standing by the door of the pub, who looked like he was supposed to be helping with crowd control. Except, based on the amount of people inside when we entered, he wasn’t doing a very good job.

Stella turned to me, which was about all she could do seeing as we’d hit a thick wall of dark and light blues. Moving forward, backward or to either side would pose more of a problem. We were surrounded by Oxford and Cambridge supporters; TV screens bolted to the walls were all tuned into BBC Sport, and the commentators down on the start line by Putney Bridge.

‘Sure you don’t want to go and find your parents?’

I shook my head again, though I was certainly more tempted than I had been ten minutes ago.

‘It’ll pass quickly. It’s only busy because the women’s race just finished, it’ll quiet down once the reserves start.’

At least Stella laughed at my attempt to be positive, while making a point to peer up at the back of theguy in front of her. Her only view. ‘Violet, sometimes you’re truly delulu.’

‘I know,’ I grinned, ‘but you love me for it, and I’m trying to put the positive vibes out for today. We’ve got a lot riding on it.’

By a lot, I obviously meant Charlie winning. Then seeing him, kissing him and getting back together. In that order.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ She rolled her eyes, ‘Wine? I need wine.’

I jerked forward from the force of someone passing behind me, ‘Yes. Wine. Here’s my card,’ I thrust it at her, ‘order a bottle, then we don’t have to go back for more. I’ll come and find you. I’m desperate for the loo,’ I added, hopping up and down to really get the point across before she got annoyed at me.

By the time I’d pushed through the crowds, found the end of the queue and waited for ten minutes while it moved, I was almost bursting. On the plus side, I peed in record time, and there was space at the sinks when I came out. My reflection stared back at me.

Miraculously, following a couple of days cold turkey, along with all the vegetables I’d swapped out and consumed in place of chocolate, my spots had completely vanished. More miraculously, my mum hadn’t even had the chance to hunt me down and pop them before they did.

Broccoli and spinach – 1; Jane Brooks – 0.

I smoothed away all my windswept strands of hair. While the sun might have made an appearance, so had the wind, and walking along the riverbank had given me the ‘freshly dragged through a hedge’ vibe. It wasn’tquite the look I was hoping for the first time I’d be seeing Charlie in two weeks. I gathered it all up and fixed a ponytail, because if I played my cards right, Charlie would be tugging on the end to kiss me in a matter of hours.

One last look in the mirror, straightening the neck of the OUBC hoodie Charlie had left for me, a swipe of pink balm over my lips and I headed to find Stella.

Unsurprisingly she’d barely moved through the crowds. ‘Still busy, Vi.’

‘I see that,’ I replied. Easing my phone from my pocket, I opened up the messages where my last one was still unread.

I’d sent it this morning, wishing Charlie good luck and that I’d see him later.

It was the first message I’d sent him since I’d been home. Firsttextmessage.

---