House of Windows (27 page)

Tim shrugged. ‘I went to find out if the results were posted after I finished at Clowns, then I looked around for you a bit. No big deal. Hey, what did your dad say?’

Nick stared at him. ‘I forgot to call him,’ he whispered, shock and wonder warring on his face. ‘I just forgot.’ He blinked blankly for a moment. ‘I was too busy being happy.’

Tim grinned. ‘Fair enough.’ He put his hand over Nick’s when he drew his phone from his pocket. ‘Call Bill first, OK? He deserves it more. Plus, he’s sent me three texts already today asking if you were OK and if you’d heard, so it might be best if we didn’t keep him waiting any longer than we have to.’

Nick brought up Bill’s contact details but let his finger hover over the call button for a moment. ‘I wonder if Dad has even remembered.’

‘He’ll still be pleased, Nick. And, hey, maybe he’s just trying not to crowd you since they’re never very reliable about when they’ll post the results.’

‘Yeah, maybe,’ Nick said, but he sounded wistful rather than angry. ‘Bill really texted you all those times?’

‘You just got a First, Nick. Don’t go joining the slow learners’ club now.’

Nick shook his head, smiling as he looked away over the river. ‘After a year of dreaming about today, I thought the big moment would be finding out my results.’

The Blue Lagoon Lounge at Charlie Chan’s Restaurant on Regent Street lived up to its name: all blue and chrome and grey, with potted palms and mirrored walls and artful downlighting.

‘Swanky,’ Tim said, sniggering as they sank into their seats. ‘I feel like we’re somewhere in Vegas.’

Nick grinned. ‘Casino chic?’

‘You’re the one who booked it.’

‘It’s nice and clean and has chairs rather than benches, so I, for one, am not complaining,’ said Bill. ‘How about some starters and champagne while we wait for Mike?’

‘By all means, bring on the champagne,’ said Tim. ‘In which case, here.’ He passed Nick an orange envelope.

Nick ripped into it. ‘“Good one, Genius”,’ he read, grinning as he opened the card. ‘“You didn’t screw up your exams after all! Told you so.”’

‘Now there’s a touching sentiment.’ Bill rolled his eyes as he produced his own card. ‘I’m afraid I’ve gone the traditional boring route.’

Nick opened the card, grinning, but his eyes stayed on the message. He slid his thumb across the writing as if wiping away a speck of lint or trying to touch the words. ‘Thanks.’

Bill frowned at the oddly shy smile on Nick’s face as he set the cards in the centre of the table. Nick’s phone beeped at almost the same time as his own. Bill glanced at the message then rubbed wearily at his forehead. ‘Your father is giving me a migraine.’

The arrival of the starters, a protracted argument over the relative merits of straw mushrooms versus shitake, and the subsequent arrival and demolishing of the main courses saw them through four further iterations of Michael’s insistence that he’d ‘be there soon’.

‘This is the longest “soon” I’ve ever seen,’ Tim said as Nick wound his way across the packed restaurant towards the sign for the loos. ‘How the hell can Michael be missing this?’

Bill tossed his napkin aside. ‘I knew I should have come down today, instead of last night, just so I could go by the office and drag him away on time.’

‘At least you’re here, not busy being “stopped for an hour at Tottenham Hale”.’

Bill topped up their glasses with the last of the wine. ‘I have to hope it’s the truth. I seem to have as much trouble giving up on Mike as Nick does, even though friendship’s
a choice while family …’ He trailed off with a sigh. ‘Well, maybe that’s a choice too.’

‘At least you’re choosing in Nick’s favour,’ Tim said. ‘Sorry if I’m being rude about Michael.’

Bill raised a hand. ‘You’re entitled. Especially since you’re stuck here, helping pick up the pieces when I know it’s not a responsibility you ever wanted. Pretty high price for your rent.’

Tim blushed. ‘Yeah, I remember saying something like that a few months ago. I’ve changed my mind, you know,’ he said, flicking a quick sideways look at Bill.

Bill smiled softly. ‘Yes, I know.’

‘All good for your celebration?’ asked the waiter, starting to clear the plates. ‘You must be very proud of your son,’ he said, nodding at the congratulations cards.

‘Mm,’ said Bill, forcing an awkward smile. ‘We’re all very proud of Nick.’

‘You haven’t finished the wine too!’ Bill and Tim turned in their seats to see Michael hurrying over.

‘Dad!’ called Nick, darting joyfully through the tables. He stopped a foot away, made an awkward movement just as Michael did the same. With an embarrassed laugh, they tried a rough, shoulder-slapping hug then quickly stepped back.

‘You OK, Bill?’ Michael asked.

‘What? Oh yes, fine.’

Tim watched Bill push himself to his feet and head over to the front desk, suddenly moving as if he were in pain.

‘What’s he— Oh, he’s not going to pay, silly blighter,’
Michael said, already hurrying after him. ‘Oi, Morrison. Hands off your wallet!’

Nick and Tim grinned at each other as they followed, leaving Bill and Michael to it when the friendly squabble became rather pointed on Bill’s side.

‘Do you think Bill’s OK?’ Nick asked, as they stepped out into the softness of the hot evening air.

‘He’s just ticked off with himself for not making sure your dad was here earlier.’

‘Why’s that
his
fault?’ Nick shook his head. ‘Let’s leave them to catch up.’

‘Make up, more like,’ Tim said with a snort. ‘By the way, probably should have mentioned this – oh, an hour ago – but you’ve got a soy-sauce splatter on your nose.’

Nick stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, a look of outrage crossing his face before he dived at Tim, who raced off down the street with a bark of laughter. When they reached Parker’s Piece, Tim slowed to a walk, watching Nick pelt on into the low-slanting sunlight.

The Kingston Arms was dim in the fading light, the windows cloudy with condensation from the fug of the fire glowing behind the soot-caked grate. The low ceilings and shiny new wood gave the pub a cramped but cosy feel. The bartender knew them by name after a month of weekly pub quizzes and often let them hide away in one of the corner booths, nursing one drink apiece through an hour at a time.

‘Ange, please stop using my head for leverage. Why are you
climbing
on me?’ Tim whined as Ange pressed a knee into his thigh, craning over the back of the booth to peer at the far corner of the pub.

‘I’m checking that Nick’s really gone to the loo. Right. Start talking,’ she commanded, curling back into her seat. ‘What is
up
with him today? What did his horrid father do now? Or was it you, ’cos if it was you—’

‘Hey. Hey!’ Tim fended off one finger, then another. ‘What is with the poking? It wasn’t
me
. Actually, it wasn’t even Mike. It’s … a girl. You know he turned up the other day with that big bunch of flowers?’

‘Wasn’t that for visiting Gosswin after work?’ asked Ange, wide-eyed.

‘It was for Sarah.’

‘Sarah … Oh, the one with the beautiful yellowy-greeny eyes and the cornrows,’ Ange said.

‘Didn’t you notice them smiling then looking away from each other all through Induction? Anyway, I persuaded him to offer her and a few friends a tour of the town during lunch hour. You should have seen him when he came home. This great big smile that shouted “I like someone and she likes me back”. He went so red when I asked about it, it’s just as well you weren’t there or we’d still be hearing about how adorable it was next century.’

‘Ah bless,’ said Ange, going rather pink.

‘Well, Day Two Nick joins them for lunch then suggests a group of them go to one of the “Shakespeare in the Gardens” plays in the Scholars’ Garden at John’s. Hence Day Three, the flowers and a walk by the river at sunset. And, hey presto, Day Four they agree to go out to dinner, only Nick—’

‘… goes completely overboard and books somewhere
über
fancy and does the too-many-compliments-in-a-row, no-holding-back thing and just totally, utterly freaks her out,’ Ange interrupted glumly.

‘How do you know that if you didn’t even know they were going out?’

Ange pulled a face. ‘Duh. What else would Nick do? Don’t you know him at
all
?’ She poked Tim viciously in the arm. ‘
That
,’ she said as he opened his mouth to protest, ‘is for not explaining things properly to him.’

‘How is this
my
fault? Look, you try talking to Nick about relationships without humiliating him if you think it’s so easy. At least he got a first kiss … and a four-day girlfriend is better than no girlfriend at all. Though it’d be better if she hadn’t dumped him by text.’

‘Oh poor Nickie. Who
does
that?’

‘Well, it’s not like they were
engaged
.’

‘It’s his first time going out with someone. Of course he’s upset. He’s not an unfeeling swine like you are when it comes to girls.’

‘Who said I was being vile to anyone, at least lately?’ Tim asked, raising his hands.

‘Exactly
why
were you cosying up to whatshername from Fitz during last week’s pre-Induction meeting?’ Ange demanded. ‘It’s a long time until Christmas.’

‘Maybe I was just after sex, not a holiday invitation.’

Ange gave him a sceptical look. ‘I know what you look like when you’re on the prowl and that wasn’t it. That was your “this may have invitation mileage” look.’

‘Why can’t you just take me home with you as your
best friend
, if you won’t have me any other way? You could see it as protective custody for all the girls of Cambridge.’ He’d
meant it to come out joking, but somehow the words turned hard and bitter on his lips.

Ange blew out a sigh like a raspberry, scrunching up her face. ‘I’m giving you some tough love so that you grow up a bit.’ She curled her arms around Tim’s nearest shoulder and rested her head against his collarbone. ‘You can’t just borrow someone’s family to pretend you’re not lonely then dump them when you don’t feel the need to pretend any more. Love’s a two-way thing, Tim: it’s not just about what you get from people but how you respond.’

Tim’s mouth flattened to a tight line. He tried to shrug her off, but she just wound her arms even tighter around him.

‘Why so glum?’ Nick asked, sliding back into his seat.

‘Talking about Christmas,’ Tim said. His voice came out flat and toneless. ‘Enough to depress anyone.’

‘I figured you’d be gossiping about me.’

‘Busted,’ Tim said, nudging Ange. ‘Her fault not mine.’

‘I’m sorry about your girlfriend being so mean, Nickie,’ Ange said, scooting around the table to cuddle up to his side. ‘It happens, you know?’

Nick blushed, hunching his shoulders. ‘We weren’t even officially going out but …’ He sighed. ‘At least I’ve got crushing Tim at the quiz tomorrow night to look forward to.’

‘Who says you’re not going to be on my team? You’re
my
housemate.’

‘Boys, boys,’ Ange said. ‘Nick is on
my
team and that’s how it’s going to be. And on that note, I’m out of here. Bye, Nick!’
She cupped his face between her hands, planting a kiss on his forehead. ‘Don’t let it get you down.’

Tim and Nick watched her skip to the door, then followed at a normal pace.

‘What the hell?’ Tim snapped suddenly.

Nick turned to see Ange standing very close to an extremely good-looking man. The man smiled adoringly down at her, raising a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

‘Since when does Ange have a boyfriend?’ Nick asked, eyes wide.

‘She doesn’t,’ Tim growled. ‘They’ve only had dinner twice.’

Ange started bouncing on the spot. The man lifted his hands to gently press down on her shoulders, stilling her. Something made him look over her shoulder at them. He frowned and bent to say something to Ange. She looked back and her face was suddenly bleak instead of sunny and open. The wind whipped her hair in front of her face, then away again, seeming to take the sadness with it. She lifted a hand to wave at them, then tucked her arm through her companion’s and led him off down the street. He looked back once, but Ange reached up and tugged on his collar until he was focused on her again.

‘So it’s all right for her, is it?’ Tim snapped, turning on his heel and marching away in the opposite direction, ‘but it’s not all right for me, oh no … She can date whoever she wants, whenever she wants—’

‘When’s the last time Ange had
any
boyfriend? She hasn’t since I’ve known her.’ Nick grabbed hold of the back of Tim’s coat, dragging him to a stop. ‘Wow,’ he said, when Tim practically snarled at him. ‘Who knew you did such a star turn in jealous tantrums?’

Tim raised a finger to object and then sighed, deflating on to a low wall. ‘I bet that girl from Selwyn would go out with me. I bet I could arrange for Ange to see us snogging each other’s brains out.’

‘And
I
bet Ange would just think you were getting even more immature,’ Nick said, rolling his eyes. ‘You really think that’s the way to change Ange’s mind about your prospects as a boyfriend?’

Tim groaned, dropping his head into his hands. ‘I am taking romantic advice from a fifteen-year-old.’

‘The fact you
need
advice from a fifteen-year-old is what you should be worried about. Look, instead of showing off to Ange about how many pretty girls you can date and dump, maybe you could think about just not dating
anyone
for a while. Maybe you could even go out for a coffee with her and her … date,’ he said, ‘
without
bringing a girl to show off the fact that you don’t have to be single if you don’t want to.’

Tim sighed, playing with the sparkly tassels on his violently pink scarf: a Christmas present from Ange. ‘But what if I do all that and she still … I don’t want her to say no and mean it. Do you think …’ He trailed off. ‘Never mind.’

‘Do I think you’ve got a chance? Yeah,’ Nick said softly. ‘If you stop screwing around with ten different girls a
month and concentrate on showing Ange you’d actually like a relationship with her, I think you’ve got a pretty good chance.’ He grinned at the expression on Tim’s face, caught somewhere between hopeful and shy and uncertain.

‘It’s usually only six girls a month,’ Tim said, but half-heartedly.

Nick rolled his eyes. ‘Come on,’ he said, blowing on his hands. ‘I can’t believe it’s this cold here in
July
.’

‘What can I tell you? Welcome to summer in Arctic Cambridge. Smell that bracing wind direct from the Urals of Siberia.’

‘My breath’s misting.’

‘Tomorrow we’re going to go out and buy you a better coat.’

‘Hold up a sec,’ Nick panted, stopping to cough, rubbing at his chest.

‘You are
not
to catch pneumonia again,’ Tim ordered. ‘Come on. Let’s get you home.’ He wrapped an arm about Nick’s shoulders and turned them towards the station. ‘I swear, if you get so much as a sniffle, I am going to chain your ankle to the radiator until it goes. God, I can hear your teeth chattering. Here.’ He pulled his own hat from his pocket and tugged it on to Nick’s head.

‘Aren’t you cold?’

‘I will be fine as long as I don’t need to do a reprise of the whole catching-you-while-you-swoon act.’

‘I did not
swoon
,’ mumbled Nick, as Tim tugged the hat lower down his forehead.

‘Were you conscious to know one way or the other? No.’

‘I still didn’t swoon.’

‘Why, ’cos you’re not a girl?’

‘’Cos I’m not in a Regency romance. I’m not in
any
sort of romance.’

‘Oh woe! Woe is young Nick, bereft and heartbroken, and not in the least little bit sorry for himself—’

‘Your sympathy overwhelms me. Don’t think I’m above dishing it out about Ange if you push me.’

‘More walking, less wheezing.’

Nick’s retort was lost in the roar of a passing motorbike as they rounded the corner into their road.

‘Did you leave the lights on, Nick? Hello?’ Tim called as he unlocked the door. ‘Bill?’

‘Nick?’ came Michael’s voice.

Kicking off his boots, Nick exchanged a surprised shrug with Tim and hurried into the kitchen. ‘I didn’t know you were coming home tonight.’

‘I left a message on your voicemail but I guess you didn’t hear it,’ Michael said.

‘We were in the pub—’

‘I thought we agreed you weren’t going to drink!’

‘He wasn’t,’ Tim cut in. ‘He was just with me and Ange.
We
had a beer each.
He
had a lemonade.’

‘I’m not sure I’m happy about you taking my son to pubs—’

‘It’s
one
pub, Dad: one local pub where everyone knows me. There is absolutely zero chance of me getting in trouble
there. The only danger is that I might actually have a bit of fun!’

Michael rubbed wearily at his forehead. ‘Please don’t shout, Nick. I’ve had a headache since three o’clock. It’s perfectly reasonable for me to be concerned—’

‘I guess there’s a first time for everything,’ Nick snapped.

‘The last thing I need tonight is that sort of attitude. I thought it would be a nice idea to come home early, have dinner together and—’

‘When exactly did you tell me this? I don’t know why you’re cross with me for not being here when I didn’t know you wanted me.
You’re
the one who keeps telling me to get a social life.’

‘But
why
does it have to be in a pub?’

‘Do you know how good I am at pub quizzes?’

‘What on
earth
does that have to do with the price of beans?’

‘It means I’m good at something that involves a team and people having fun together and me being an equal!’ Nick closed his eyes, took a step back. ‘I’m going to bed.’

‘Nick …’ Michael sighed as Nick stalked off, then jumped as if he’d forgotten that Tim was there too, silently making tea.

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to be underfoot,’ Tim mumbled, keeping his eyes averted.

Michael shook his head, slumping back against the counter. ‘Talk about the day from hell.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Tim said coolly, gathering up the mugs. ‘I’m going up now. Night.’

Ignoring the fact that the stairs to the attic were dark, Tim padded up, pausing at the top to let his eyes adjust. Nick was sitting on his bed, leaning against the window-frame and looking out into the night.

‘Hey,’ Tim said, sitting down at the foot of the bed and holding out a mug. ‘Sorry the day went from bad to worse. Look, your dad just had a rotten afternoon and then he was disappointed not to find you home—’

‘Home and waiting just in case he had time for me.’

Tim wriggled on to the bed so that his back was to the wall and he could draw his knees up to mimic Nick’s pose.

‘I really liked Sarah,’ Nick whispered.

Reaching out, Tim patted his foot. ‘I know.’ In the dim light, he could just make out the vague lines of Nick’s face, the unhappy set of his mouth, the brightness of his eyes in the dark.

‘It was nice to have someone to be close to. Not sex, I mean.’

Tim could hear the blush in his voice.

‘We weren’t … We didn’t … Just … Not even the kissing. Just being close.’

Sighing, Tim set his mug aside on the bookcase and shifted over, putting his arm around Nick’s shoulders. ‘Hey, I know we’re manly macho guys and everything,’ Nick gave a hiccup of laughter, ‘but I don’t mind if you need a hug once in a while. I kind of need hugs as well sometimes. We could have a rota or something.’

Nick gave a soft laugh. After a moment, he relaxed sideways against Tim’s body. ‘Thanks,’ he whispered.

Tim squeezed his shoulder, grateful for the darkness. Somehow it seemed to make it easier to offer comfort. For Nick to accept it. He’d have to remember that.

He rested his head back against the wall with a sigh, thinking that Ange would approve, and suddenly he was smiling into the dark.
It’s not just what you get from people but how you respond.