Page 79 of Oleander

There was a quick flutter of panic inside my chest. I had already spent a lot of time daydreaming about summer,about Caspien and me this summer. I’d dreamt of sweltering afternoons like this one, lounging right here by the lake, reading on the western patio, cooling off inside Deveraux. Other nameless things which I’d never utter aloud. In any case, none of my daydreams had involved Ellie. And they should have, if we were boyfriend and girlfriend then they would have to.

I realised it then: Ellie would need to feature in every daydream I had forever unless I ended things. It wasn’t arrogance to say that I was certain that I was a prominent feature in Ellie’s daydreams of summer in northern Italy.

“I don’t know if Beth would say yes,” I said, though it was a lie. Beth had been far more lenient and far less intractable with this stuff. “The money,” I explained.

“Well, you wouldn’t need much, just pocket money, really. The house is always fully stocked when we get there, and we drive from Cherbourg, so there are no flights to pay for.” She was sitting up now, excited by the idea.

I glanced at Alfie and Georgia, who were sharing AirPods and watching something on Alfie’s phone screen. I bit my lip and glanced over her shoulder at the big house.

“I’ll ask,” I said, smiling nervously.

She misread it for something more like enthusiasm because she squealed, fell on top of me and began babbling about all the things we would do in Bergamo.

That night, when I called Caspien, he didn’t answer. I couldn’t imagine where he’d be on a Saturday night. I already knew he had no friends there; he’d told me often enough how much he loathed everyone at that school. How they were rich and boring and stupid. How no one there had a single interesting thing to say.

It didn’t stop me from thinking of him with Hannes Meier, though. Of Caspien on his back with Hannes Meier above him, thrusting his pretty cock into his open and willing throat.

I was eating toast and making tea the following morning when Luke strolled in, whistling happily along to some pop song on the radio.

“Morning, Judey,” he sang.

“Morning,” I mumbled around a mouthful of hot toast.

“Don’t suppose you fancy helping me out for a bit at the big house today? Ged’s on holiday.”

I groaned. “It’s going to be boiling – do I have to?”

“Well, no. You don’t have to, but there might be some cash in it for you if you do. Which I hear you might need for a little Italian trip you’re thinking of taking this summer.” He winked.

“How did you hear about that?” I asked, far sharper than was appropriate.

Luke frowned. “Scott mentioned it last night when he came to pick El up. What? Why is your face like that?”

“Nothing. So what did Beth say?”

“She said we’d speak to you about it. But she’s not completely against the idea. Figures you deserve a holiday, same as us, and we were thinking that if you’re with the Walsh’s for a few weeks, then me and her can get away somewhere for a break. You know, change of scenery.”

“You could still do that even if I don’t go. I’m sixteen, which is old enough to be at home on my own.”

He was still frowning, like there was a complicated maths equation on my head he didn’t understand.

“What’s going on here? Thought you’d be begging and pleading us to let you go to Italy?”

I had nothing. There was nothing I could think of to say that would make any sense. He was right; I should be begging. Whywouldn’tI want to go to Italy with my girlfriend for the summer? I swallowed. Behind me, the kettle popped off the boil, so I spun around and busied myself with making tea instead.

“Judey, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Luke was closer to me, and his voice careful. He laid a hand on my shoulder.

I tried to imagine how I might say it, how I might tell him what was going on inside my mind. But I wasn’t sure what words I would use to explain something I didn’t really understand myself.

There was something I could say, though, something he might be able to offer some advice on. Something that didn’t need to mean anything more than just what it was.

“I’m thinking of breaking up with Ellie,” I said so quietly I didn’t think he could hear it over the stirring of the teaspoon.

“You are?” Luke asked, sounding confused.

I nodded. “I just don’t think...I mean...I think maybe that she...” I turned to Luke and picked my way through the tangle of thoughts in my head. “I’m sure she likes me more than I like her. I feel like I’m lying to her; I mean, I have lied to her, and every time we’re together, it’s like I’m lying to her over and over again.”

The words, once they were out, wouldn’t stop. I didn’t know how to stop talking, and so on and on I went. Luke listened intently, soft eyes rounded with concern.