Page 71 of Midnight in Paris

She grimaced. ‘Sorry. I’m not a big fan of gatherings like that. These days, at least.’

They acknowledged Tom’s loss quietly between them. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean,’ Will said. ‘Nicer to be able to actually talk.’

She nodded, wondering if he really meant it. They continued to walk, up onto the pavement and along, past open grounds and parks, old buildings, heading towards the town centre, but aimlessly. She glanced at his face from time to time and saw a smile spread across it. ‘What?’ she asked.

‘Just remembering how we met. That evening, you know, after the play,’ he said. ‘Seems a long time ago.’

‘Yeah, maybe just a bit,’ she said, thinking back to how she and Libby had stumbled into the halls without a thought. Carefree.

‘I always kicked myself for not coming over sooner, introducing myself, before Tom monopolised everything,’ he admitted.

‘Yeah?’

He nodded. ‘I think I was a bit in awe of you and Libby at first. You seemed so… kind of free. Different from the girls who were at our college.’

‘Poorer?’

He laughed. ‘More fun. Anyway, we’re not all rich toffs, you know. I’m boringly ordinary, for instance.’

‘True.’ Will had spoken to her briefly in the past about what it was like to go to Cambridge simply on academic merit, rather than the sense of historic entitlement some of his peers had seemed to feel. He’d felt on the outskirts of everything at first, only being granted access to the inner circle due to his rugby and rowing skills.

‘And you’re still rowing now?’ she said, thinking of the club they’d just left.

‘Now and then. Not competitively. Just… exercise, I guess. And I love it.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Yeah. You know, you should come with me sometime,’ he said, suddenly animated.

She laughed properly at this. ‘Seriously?’ she said. ‘I’m about as coordinated as…’ She wracked her brain for an example, but failed to come up with anything. ‘I mean, I can’t… And I’m pathetically weak,’ she said, showing him her arm as evidence.

‘Don’t flex that enormous bicep at me!’ he joked. ‘You’ll make me feel inadequate!’

She laughed again. It was surprisingly easy this evening. Nice to see Will again.

‘Anyway, no excuse at all, I’m afraid. Everyone has to start somewhere.’

‘I just…’ she said, beginning to refuse again. Then she thought, why not? ‘OK, then,’ she said. ‘If you promise you’ll do the lion’s share of the actual rowing.’

‘That’s a given,’ he said. ‘Just wait until you get out there on the water. 5a.m. Everything’s kind of magical…’

‘5a.m.?’ Admittedly, she was often up at that hour, restless, sitting at her kitchen table with a cup of tea. But the thought of venturing out into the cool morning air when it was barely light was far from appealing.

‘Best time of the day,’ he said, looking at her. ‘What? I’m serious!’

‘Yeah, you’re all right,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll stick to my warm bed at that time.’

He turned to her, serious now. ‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘You come and try with me one morning and if you don’t love it, I won’t ever ask you again.’

His seriousness floored her. ‘You’re that sure I’m going to like it?’

He nodded. ‘There’s nothing like it, Soph. It really helped me, too, after… you know. And maybe…’ he shrugged awkwardly, his meaning clear. That it might help her to forget about Tom for a little while.

She wondered whether he thought about his friend as often as she did. Being a widow, half of a couple without Tom, gave her the biggest claim on mourning, she supposed, but losing a best friend must be tough too. ‘Do you…’ she began, then cut herself short, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

‘Still miss him? Of course.’

She nodded. ‘OK.’

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