‘He’s very nice, isn’t he?’ she says as we cross the playing field. ‘He isn’t my usual type, but he’s very good looking. Don’t you think so?’
‘I suppose so,’ I say.
‘You suppose so? Of course, he is. Better than most of the men around here anyway. He seemed very interested in you.’
I fight hard to keep the smile off my face. ‘I think he was interested in both of us.’
Suzy tosses her head, and her long, blonde hair ripples out behind her. Mine used to do that. It will probably never do so again. Perhaps the paint is there to stay, and I’ll have to go back to university with white splodges all over my head and try to persuade everyone it’s the latest fashion.
Hopefully, it will have grown out by Christmas. Surely, Alex will be home again for the holidays, even if he’s found a job somewhere else by then.
‘What are you thinking about?’ asks Suzy as we reach my front gate.
‘Nothing,’ I lie. ‘I’m just a bit tired.’
‘Me too,’ she says. ‘I can’t believe you let me in for all that painting. Still, it worked out well. We might not have met Alex so soon if you hadn’t.’
Or at all, I think. I’m going back to university in a couple of days, but Alex would have been bound to meet Suzy at some point and be dazzled by her. By the time I met him, he and Suzy might have been a couple.
If Mum hadn’t sent me to help out this afternoon, I might never have met him. Maybe fate has taken a hand for once. Perhaps there really is such a thing as ‘meant to be’.
I say goodnight to Suzy and go inside to take a long, hot bath.
Chapter Two
Suzy calls for me the following evening. ‘I see the paint came out,’ she says.
‘Thankfully. It was touch and go there for a while. But I got it all out at last.’
‘You look very nice,’ she says, looking me up and down. ‘You don’t usually dress up to go to the pub.’
‘You said we might go on somewhere else,’ I remind her. ‘Besides, I’m not exactly dressed up. Unless clean jeans count as dressing up.’
‘I haven’t seen that top before,’ she says. ‘Is it new?’
‘Fairly. I bought it this term.’
‘It suits you.’
‘You look very nice too,’ I say. ‘Then again, you always do.’
She gives a complacent smile. ‘I’ve had this outfit for ages, but I thought I might as well wear it tonight.’
She’s wearing jeans so tight they look as though I painted them on when I did the mural. They accentuate her long, slender legs. She’s wearing a pale pink top, sleeveless and low cut, and very high heeled sandals.
‘Hello, Suzy,’ says Mum, appearing in the hallway. ‘Where are you two girls off to?’
‘We’re going for a drink, Mrs. Masters,’ says Suzy.
Mum gives her a critical look. ‘Won’t you be cold in that?’
‘It’s a lovely warm evening,’ I say.
‘But it’s awfully low cut,’ says Mum. ‘You don’t want all those men at the pub leering at you. Shall I get you a nice wrap to cover up?’
‘Bye, Mum!’ I say, pushing Suzy out of the door. We walk down the front path, laughing.
‘Why are all mothers like that?’ asks Suzy, slipping her arm into mine. ‘Surely, they were young once?’