In the weeks after our drink in Camden, I saw Liz increasingly often. I began to realize that, in a strange way, she had been right about not shagging.
Because of that conversation, we both knew exactly what the other one thought, and all the sex stuff could be left on one side. I still fancied her, and she knew I still fancied her, but we both knew that nothing was going to happen (or at least acted that way) and as a result, we could become like normal mates.
It was the first time I’d ever had a proper female friend. She really was a good laugh, and it was genuinely possible to get on well with her, despite the fact that I wanted her body but couldn’t do anything about it. I actually got on with her better than I could remember getting on with any of my regular friends. We could have a laugh and everything, then, sometimes, if we were in the mood, we had quite serious conversations. I mean, what we ended up saying was occasionally properly… well, intimate. I ended up telling her things that I’d never really told anyone before. I can’t actually remember what they were now, but at the time I remember thinking that it all felt very deep.
Although we were just friends, and I didn’t make another pass at her, over time it became obvious that we were getting closer and closer. Whenever we sat down, we always found ourselves
Now I’m no expert, but it seemed obvious to me that something sexual was going on. I wasn’t making advances to her or anything, but between us, things were just happening – almost of their own accord. And the more we sat around fondling each other, talking about our deepest, darkest secrets and exposing the depths of our hearts to each other, the more there was this massive thing that neither of us was mentioning.
And I knew – you just know when this happens – you do – I just knew that if I had said that we were acting like a pair of honeymooners, she would have acted all shocked, got angry, and the whole thing would have disappeared in a puff of smoke – because if the physical stuff had vanished, the whole friendship would have collapsed almost immediately. We couldn’t have gone back to not touching without feeling like complete fakes.
Occasionally, she’d say things like, ‘You’ve got a very close sense of personal space, haven’t you?’, which is
She must have known that the whole friendship was a farce, and that something heavy was on the way, but she made damn sure that neither of us could admit it.
I had always assumed that things would come to a head in one sweaty guilt-ridden frenzy, then we’d never be able to talk to each other again. But one day Liz, completely out of the blue, floored me with a suggestion that opened up more sexual possibilities than I had dared dream about.
It was coming to the end of April, and Liz was skiving off college for the third time that week. We had just spent the afternoon lounging around on Hampstead Heath, and both of us were lying on our backs on the ground. I was flat on the grass, and Liz had her head on my belly.
‘What are you going to do, then?’ she said.
‘About what?’
‘With the rest of your year.’
‘Aaah – that’s the five-million-dollar question, isn’t it?’
‘Six million.’
‘It’s not that important.’
‘You’ve got over four months left.’
‘True.’
‘You going to work?’
‘Not if I can avoid it.’
‘Do you need to work?’
‘Not really, no.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I don’t. I’m Mr Moneybags now.’
‘Really?’
‘Yup. Doesn’t it show?’
‘No – you’re still as tight as ever.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘How come you’re so rich, then?’
‘Basically – the minimum wage in Switzerland is over a grand a month. And since I didn’t have a social life, I saved most of it up.’
‘Over a grand a month?’
‘Well – they nick back most of your salary in accommodation and food costs – even though they put you up in the cellar and feed you on leftovers from the kitchen. But still – I came back with more than a thousand.’
‘Really?’
‘Plus what I earned in the Sock Shop.’
‘You rich bastard! And have you taken me out for one meal? Have you bought me so much as a lollipop?’
‘Look – I’m saving it.’
‘What for?’
‘For the rest of my year out.’
‘So you can travel?’
‘Exactly.’
‘But you just told me you didn’t know what you were going to do.’
‘I don’t.’
‘But you know you’re going to travel.’
‘Yeah. I suppose so.’
‘What do you mean, “You suppose so”? You’re acting like I’m persuading you to go away against your will.’
‘No.’
‘So you do want to travel?’
‘I think so.’
‘You
‘Well – I mean I
‘I
There was a silence, while Liz stared out over London, thinking.
‘I’ve got a long summer holiday, you know,’ she said. ‘I break up in early June. That would give us three months.’
‘Are you being serious?’
‘Deadly serious. I don’t want to be left out of all this, just because I’m doing an art foundation. And I’m not going to trot after James and join up with him in America either.’ She looked at me and broke into a smile. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to India, you know.’
‘India?’
‘I’ve got some savings. Do you want to go to India with me? This summer?’
