‘Ah, right,’ he says, looking pleased he knows which one I am. ‘You’re the walking one.’

‘That’s right.’ Jess beams.

I make polite small talk for a few more moments, then make my excuses. I pull the door of my bedroom closed and look out of the window at Albany Road and the sea of houses that stretches out as far as I can see. My stomach contracts with something I really don’t want to acknowledge. I can’t be jealous because Jess has met someone. We’re friends, that’s all. Yes, we flirted that first night in December when we met, and yes, we’d become friends as we walked miles together over the city. That’s perfectly normal.

I think for a second about that briefest of touches, lying on the grass, staring up at the sky. I really need to get a grip. It was nothing. There’s a soft thud as Jess’s bedroom door closes, and I grimace. I’m not staying around to find out what will happen next. I grab a towel and head for the shower, determined to stand under needles of burning hot water until I’ve cleared my head, and then for as long as I can. Hopefully that way I can avoid whatever’s going on in the room next door.

Chapter Thirty: Jess

Chapter Thirty

Jess

10th September

There’s the first hint of autumn in the air as we walk to Sophie and Rich’s place for dinner. A light breeze blows, and a few yellow-brown leaves eddy and swirl on the street as we get off the tube. They feel at odds with the warm weather. London seems to hold on to summer longer than other places, making more of the season. The shop windows, though, are already full of mannequins wearing long winter coats, wrapped in hats and scarves. It’ll be Hallowe’en next, and then Guy Fawkes Night, and—

‘You look like you’re miles away,’ says James, swinging my hand as we wait at the traffic lights. ‘What are you thinking about?’

‘Oh, Christmas, and stuff like that,’ I say, shaking myself back to reality. ‘Just daydreaming.’

James squeezes my hand and smiles at me. ‘You’re organised.’

I run my thumb over the top of his hand, and hope my face doesn’t give things away. I wasn’t thinking about Christmas. I was thinking about Alex and Alice, and what might be going on with them, and wondering why I was thinking about it when I was holding hands with a perfectly nice man.

Before long, we’re standing outside Sophie’s place waiting for her to open the door. James leans over and drops a kiss on the top of my head. ‘You smell lovely,’ he says, inhaling the scent of expensive Aveda shampoo that I’ve splurged on.