Somewhere Only We Know (6 page)

After Alex had gone, Matt had taken Nadia out onto the dance floor for the final ten or so songs. It wasn’t the same as dancing with Alex had been. Matt held her by the hips, trying to make her move in time with what he was doing, whereas with Alex it had all been free and easy and they’d danced in careless synchronicity, even though their bodies rarely touched. And then he’d kissed her, for the entire second half of Nickelback’s ‘Rockstar’, which was nice, but also a little annoying, as it was one of her favourite songs.

Holly had been jubilant during their short walk home. “I can’t believe it,” she’d kept repeating, tipping her head back and shouting it up at the stars as if they were in on it. “I can’t bloody believe it! How much is this
meant to be
?”

Nadia had just laughed. “It’s just a coincidence. You’ve been watching too many bad films.”

“But WHAT a coincidence,” Holly had insisted. “Of all the names Ledge could have pulled out of his arse. And here he is! Your future husband! Conveniently British and conveniently called Matthew and conveniently
well into you
!”

“Hols,” Nadia had protested, laughing and pushing her friend on the arm. But her good humour was infectious.

“So when you guys kissed, did he taste like crumpets and cricket and cream teas? Or just like a visa?” Holly had asked, mock-serious.

“Holly!” Nadia had glanced behind them just to double-check that Matt wasn't somehow within earshot. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between me and Matt, but if he overhears you saying shit like that, I’ve got a pretty good guess that the answer will be ‘sod all’!”

“No, it’s meant to be. This is it, Nads – it’s what you deserve. Everything’s going to be alright now,” she’d insisted, earnest with relief. And Nadia had felt her eyes go hot. She gave her best friend a clumsy, one-armed hug and kissed her on the cheek.

“What a good night,” Holly had summarised after a moment. “Did you get Alex’s number too?”

“No, but he’s going to add me on Facebook.”

“Okay.” Holly had dropped her voice conspiratorially. “I think he might fancy me or something,” she’d admitted.

Nadia had laughed. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, he ditched his friends and full-on stalked us to Bison.”

“We’d invited him!” Nadia had protested. But maybe, on reflection…

“Has Alex added you yet?” Nadia was pulled back to the present and looked up to where Holly was leaning through the doorway part-way into her bedroom.

“What’s it matter to you? I thought you weren’t interested,” Nadia teased.

Holly rolled her eyes. “Please, I’m not. You know me. I like a bad boy!” That was the understatement of the century. “And Alex is hardly a bad boy.” But that was another one.

“Hey, he’s quite sexy in a suit-and-tie sort of way,” Nadia shrugged. “And he’s got gorgeous eyes.”

“I hadn’t even noticed,” Holly admitted. “And I don’t know why you did, when you had Matt’s, your future husband, eyes there to be looking into.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “Okay, I guess Matt's eyes were alright too.”

“I wonder if your kids will have his colouring or yours?”

“Hols, please.” Nadia gestured at her laptop. “He hasn't even poked me on Facebook yet. Children aren’t exactly imminent.”

Holly squinted at the laptop screen. “Who actually still pokes on Facebook?” she asked, incredulous.

“I think it’s been so long that it’s actually acceptable again now, it’s retro or something,” Nadia told her, authoritatively. “Maybe I should poke Alex,” she decided.

Holly laughed. “Okay. I’ll see you when you get back from 2006.” She saluted dismissively as she slipped back into the hallway.

Alex

This was the first summer Alex was really spending time with Lila. Sure, there'd been parties and beach days and road trips in the warm weather throughout the three years they'd been in the same group of friends at university, but it wasn't quite the same thing. He'd had Alice back then, and that had blocked him from ever getting around to thinking about Lila in the way he did now. And last year, her relationship with Rory was too new, but this summer everything was much more comfortable. Including her attire.

“God.” Lila exhaled heavily and rolled her tank top another inch up her stomach. “It’s so hot.” She sank down further into the sofa cushions. “Are there any windows left that we can open?”

“Nope, we’ve got them all,” Alex told her apologetically, staring anywhere than at Lila, who seemed to consist of an impossible amount of naked arms and legs, bare creamy skin from all angles. He took a distracted sip from his glass of coke, which had hit room temperature in the space of five minutes. It was the very last from Rory’s litre bottle, but, well, you snooze you lose – literally.

Lila blew strands of hair from her face listlessly. “I wish Rory would just get up. It can’t be any hotter outside.”

“Well, if he really drank another tray of those shots after I left, I doubt we’re going to be seeing him this side of three o’clock, to be honest.”

Lila made a cross noise. “I might just go home, you know. What’s the point of me just hanging around here?” Alex must have allowed his hurt to flash on his face as Lila’s expression immediately softened. “Aside from obviously getting to hang out with you. But you know what I mean.” She smiled sadly. “Sometimes I feel like it’s you and me who are the couple.”

She did this, sometimes – he could swear it was on purpose. She created little openings by saying things like that, looked at him through her eyelashes as if she was expecting something. He wished he could work out what it was that she wanted from him. It was too much to hope it would be the same thing that he wanted from her. There'd been once or twice at uni where he'd gotten the feeling she was interested in him. But maybe that was just the arrogant sort of guy he'd been back then.

“Come on.” Alex got to his feet. “If we’re going to just doss around and waste our Saturday we might as well do it in the sun on the Common. Grab your flipflops.”

Nadia

Matt appeared to be wearing the same Lacoste polo shirt he’d been wearing the night they’d met in Bison. Of course, it was entirely possible that he owned more than the one – did they come in double packs as standard, she wondered?

Realising belatedly that Matt had asked her a question and was waiting attentively for her response, Nadia stalled for time by taking a large drink from her wine glass.

“Oh, totally,” she decided to go with, relieved when Matt just nodded enthusiastically.

“I know, right?”

As far as first dates went, it was a smidgeon underwhelming; it was mostly down to her to be fair. Not wanting to just assume that Matt would be bankrolling the refreshments – but unable to afford anything much – Nadia had suggested the Bankside All Bar One, where she knew you could always get a voucher for a sharing platter and a bottle of plonk for under eleven quid. The so-called Sauvignon was acidic and warm as bath water against her teeth – her own fault for ordering the house white and not insisting on an ice bucket. She swilled down another mouthful. She had a bit of drink envy. Matt was drinking a nice-smelling fruit cider from a slim-necked, fat-bottomed vintage bottle. Ironically, he’d said that he thought men drinking wine was effeminate.

What was she doing here? This was hardly the right time to start dating somebody, even if they were tall, gorgeous and conveniently named…

Her thoughts had wandered again; she forced them back to what Matt was saying just a moment too late.

“So what about you?” he asked with a wide smile. Shit! There was no fudging around that one. Sighing she put her wine glass down.

“I’m sorry, I just got totally distracted. What was the last thing you said?”

Matt’s smile grew wider. “Only the very last thing?”

“I’m sorry,” Nadia repeated. “It’s so loud in here.” Lie. Maybe if you were half-deaf. Matt’s smile grew all the wider.

“Here, let’s do this, then.” He stood and dragged his chair from opposite her to next to her, reaching back to scoot his pretty cider bottle closer along the table. The scraping of the chair legs across the floor tiles drew attention from several tables over. Nadia saw a glossy city type in a fluffy pussy-bow blouse appraise Matt before dipping her head in closer towards her two friends to comment. They all then proceeded to stare across at them over the rims of their wine glasses.

Whereas she was normally pretty comfortable in herself, at that moment Nadia felt exceedingly rumpled next to Matt’s Lacoste-clad glory. She wasn’t sure how people who lived in year-round hot climates managed it, but the minute it got above twenty-four degrees she turned into a limp-haired, flush-faced state. She had agonised over the fact that the only clothing she could bear to put on her in this heat were linen sun-dresses, scantily short and pretty much see-through in the right light (which she very much hoped the bar didn’t have). Still, Matt had greeted her with an appreciative look, told her she looked nice, and had kept his eyes politely on her face all night, ignoring the temptations of her loose spaghetti straps or mid-thigh hemline with aplomb.

Pussy-bow and her friends continued to look over shamelessly. Nadia very much hoped they were just fascinated by the gorgeous, perfect-looking couple and not wondering what the hell a godly stud like him was doing with a minger like her. My hair’s not actually greasy; I did wash it, she wanted to rush over and assure them. It was just really hot and sweaty on the Tube getting here…

“Nadia?”

Matt had been talking to her again. Oh shit!

“I’m sorry,” she babbled as she cast around for an explanation for her offensive inattention. “I, er, I think I know that girl. I was just trying to work out where from.”

“Which girl?” Matt turned fully in his chair to look behind him. “Her?” He pointed straight at Pussy-bow, who panicked that she’d been caught staring and busied herself topping up her already full wine glass. Nadia cringed a little against her seat.

“Er, yeah, but actually I don’t think I do know her, after all.”

“Oh.” Matt swivelled back to front in his seat and picked up his drink again. “Nadia, are you okay? You seem a little… nervous.”

“Nervous?” Nadia echoed.

“Yeah.” Matt smiled. “It’s cute.”

Bless him. He thought that she was just flustered and overwhelmed about being on a date with him, rather than just highly distractible that evening. To be honest, that’s probably what he was used to, if Pussy-bow and co’s reaction to him was anything to go by. Come on, Nadia, she told herself sternly. You have in front of you an absolutely drop-dead gorgeous guy who seems to be really into you and magically has the same name as your Fake Visa Boyfriend. The universe is throwing you a bone here. Take it, take it!

“So are you up for it?” Matt was saying as she tuned back in.

Fuck!

Chapter 4

Alex

He'd been trying to get through 
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo 
since he’d been given it for Christmas, but he usually only managed about three paragraphs before he glazed over. The tatty paperback limp against his knees, he stared beyond the pages to the Tube carriage floor and wondered how many more evenings he'd have to work overtime before Donnelly noticed and put him forward for that promotion.

"I really enjoyed this series," someone said. It was the person who'd just got on at the last stop and sat in the seat next to him. "The film was absolute crap, though," she continued. Alex tensed. Only lunatics spoke to people on the Underground. Was he going to have to change carriages at the next stop? The girl laughed. "Don't you remember me?" And yes, he recognised the voice as he turned.

"Nadia, hey!" Alex greeted her, relieved and more than a little pleased. Nadia sat twisted towards him, smiling in the next seat, her bare legs stretched out in front of them, cork-heeled wedges almost touching the seats on the other side of the carriage, her hair in a pale, braided rope over one shoulder. "Wow, fancy bumping into you here! Small world."

"More like, small Northern Line," Nadia grinned. She took in his rather rumpled suit. "Are you just on your way home? It's late."

Alex scratched at the back of his neck, uncomfortably; it probably wasn't the best idea to talk about work with Nadia. "Oh, you know how it is. I'm gunning for promotion." He gave a self-depreciating smile. "Something a little less soul-numbing for a little more money."

"I don't think I could ever do a job like yours," Nadia told him, matter-of-factly. Alex refrained from pedantically pointing out that foreign nationals can't get jobs at the British Home Office. "Oh? Why's that?"

"Ah, it's like a big, grown-up, important job. I mean, you affect people's 
lives
."

Alex scratched uncomfortably again. "I really don't do anything. I told you, I'm just the admin monkey. So," he hurried on, eager to change the subject, "what would your dream job be? I mean, if you could do anything."

"You mean, if I had a visa allowing me to work?" Nadia teased. She tilted her head, giving his question some thought. "I know you're meant to answer these questions with things like, soap star, prime minister, astronaut but…" She looked down at her hands against her thighs. "Lately I've been thinking I'd like to get involved in immigration issues…"

"I thought you said you couldn't deal with an important job?" Alex teased.

"No, I mean, I'd like to have a job where I could help people in my position. Going through the immigration ringer!" She rolled her eyes. "Give them advice, help them with their applications and appeals, that sort of thing. I mean, I don't know if I could actually ever become like, a full-on lawyer, but I could certainly work in translation to start with. Maybe teach Russian, or English to Russians!" She shrugged. "That sort of thing."

Alex, who would have probably genuinely answered that sort of question with “astronaut”, felt rather silly and humbled.

"That sounds like a really good idea," he told her, sincerely. "And very worthy." He was rewarded by a full-on beam from Nadia.