Page 112 of When We Were Young

I wince. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t––’

‘Whatever,’ she snaps. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

But of course, nothing matters more to her. Her eyes shine with tears and resentment.

She heaves herself up and hobbles towards Scott. He envelops her in his arms; they stand there for a long time hugging and talking. I can’t hear what they’re saying. Over her head, Scott glares at me.

Clearly, he’s disappointed in me, too.

Chapter 51

February 1997

Emily heard Will coming into the flat. That meant Miranda and Scott would have heard him too. The alarm clock said 3:15 a.m. The floorboards creaked as he passed her room to the bathroom.

Since he returned from the States, he had been renting a flat with Matty and Reu on a short-term lease, but it was a dump, so he stayed at hers most of the time. When they weren’t playing gigs, they were rehearsing, so he often got home in the early hours.

She must have fallen asleep because the bed rocking woke her, his lips on her neck, his hands running up her thighs.

She turned to face him. ‘I’ve got to be up in three hours.’

‘It won’t takethreehours,’ he joked, the minty smell not quite disguising the alcohol on his breath.

‘Seriously, I’ve got a critique tomorrow…’ He silenced her with a kiss and lingered until she kissed him back.

‘I’m not sleepy,’ he murmured.

‘Well, I am.’

He rolled onto his back. ‘We got the tour dates,’ he told the ceiling.

Her stomach lurched. They had been expecting this news. ‘And?’

‘It starts in May and goes all the way through to the end of September.’

‘Just Europe?’

‘And America. They’re talking about Japan and Australia at the end of the year.’ He was talking about it like it was a prison sentence.

‘Any festivals? You were hoping for Glastonbury?’

‘Yep, we got Glastonbury, Reading, Roskilde, and one in Ireland.’

She slipped her hand into his. ‘That’s fantastic!’

‘You could join us for the summer. When do you break up?’

‘End of June. I can’t though, I’ve got to get a summer job, otherwise I won’t be able to pay the rent.’

They lay in silence for a minute.

‘We need a photographer!’ he blurted, too loud.

‘Shh!’

‘They’re talking about hiring a photographer for the tour,’ he whispered. ‘It could be you.’

She didn’t fancy tagging along as his girlfriend, but as the photographer, she’d bedoingsomething. Something she was good at. ‘Would they agree to that?’

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