to come up and visit her, and twice he’d cancelled because of rugby.
‘I do miss you, babe. But I can’t let the lads down. Maybe you could come back to Sussex for a weekend? We’re playing Saracens’ Second Fifteen on Sunday, there’s gonna be a huge party at High Rocks afterwards.’
‘I can’t, darling. Not this weekend. I’ve got so much work to do,’ said Sasha. Then she felt guilty all week because she’d lied to him, and she didn’t know why. What’s happening to us?
At last, one Saturday in late November, Will made it up to Cambridge. Sasha met him at the station, wrapped up in so many layers of sweaters and scarves he almost didn’t recognize her.
‘Christ on a bike, it’s cold up here,’ he shivered, hugging her tightly on the platform. ‘This wind. It’s like bloody Siberia.’ Dressed in his favourite Diesel jeans and Tonbridge rugby shirt under a cool leather bomber jacket, he looked even more handsome than Sasha remembered him. He smelled of Givenchy aftershave and mouthwash, and his arms felt so strong and wonderful around her. What an idiot I’ve been, thought Sasha. He’s perfect. Everything’s going to be fine.
In the taxi, he reached under Sasha’s duffel coat and put a cold hand on her thigh.
‘I can’t wait to unwrap you, my darling. Have you missed me?’
‘Of course I have,’ said Sasha, adding guiltily, ‘there’s been so much to do here, that’s all, work and finding my way around and stuff. I can’t wait to show you St Michael’s. Isn’t Cambridge beautiful?’
They were driving down Trumpington Street, in the heart of the old university district, but Will wasn’t interested in sightseeing.
‘Mmmm,’ he yawned. ‘You’re not on your period are you?’
Sasha blushed. ‘No!’
‘Good.’ Will’s hand crept higher. ‘I’m sorry to be blunt, but this is the longest time I’ve gone without sex since I was like, twelve. The only part of St Michael’s I’m interested in is your bedroom.’
Don’t be annoyed, Sasha told herself. He’s trying to pay you a compliment. You should be grateful he’s stayed faithful. There’ll be plenty of time to show him around tomorrow.
At Will’s request, they spent the afternoon squeezed into Sasha’s minute single bed. Sex felt awkward at first. Sasha had forgotten how perfect Will’s body was, taut and athletic and muscular, like a Michelangelo sculpture. She’d also forgotten how fit he was. As much as she fancied him, after the third round of shagging she was starting to feel not just bored but exhausted. And sore. Will’s idea of foreplay was to kiss each boob once before launching himself into her like an Exocet.
‘Are you hungry, darling?’ she asked tentatively as he came loudly for a third time before rolling off her, spent. If rugby was Will’s favourite thing in the world and sex his second favourite, Sasha had learned early that food ran a close third. ‘I thought we might wander down to the Pickerel. It’s a really lovely old pub. They do a good lasagne, and you could meet some of my friends.’
‘Sure.’ Will bounded out of bed like a Labrador. Lasagne sounded wicked. Sasha’s nerdy science-geek mates would be less wicked, but he could put up with them for an hour or two if he had to. ‘We’ll regain our strength before tonight!’
He grinned.
Good heavens, thought Sasha. At this rate I’ll be in a wheelchair by the end of the weekend.
Half an hour later Sasha walked into the pub with Will and was immediately dragged to the loo by Georgia.
‘Oh. My. God. That’s Will? That boy-band hottie with the Justin Timberlake arse?’
Sasha laughed. ‘I told you he was attractive.’
‘Attractive? He’s Brad bloody Pitt, Sash. If I had a bloke like that at home I’d have told St Michael’s to stick their offer. How could you bear to leave him?’
Half an hour later, Georgia was beginning to understand how Sasha could have borne it. Will Temple was one of the most handsome boys she’d ever seen. He was also vain, self-centred and a complete cretin.
‘I’ve never seen the point of university myself, to be honest. Obviously I’m pleased for Sasha. But I’m more interested in the real world. The UOL.’
‘I’m sorry?’ Georgia smiled politely.
‘University of Life. I’m all about experiences, you know. Travel, other cultures.’
‘I see. And have you travelled much?’
‘Oh God yeah. I’ve been to France, loads of times. And I’ve been on rugby tours all over. Australia, Samoa, New Zealand …’
‘Three hotbeds of culture …’ Georgia muttered under her breath, but Will wasn’t listening. Will never listened.
‘Sport’s the one true international language,’ he went on. ‘It can totally bring people together. But you know what I’m talking about. You must be a sportswoman, right? You don’t get that kind of body stuck in a library all day sitting on your arse, that’s for sure.’
Georgia winced. How can Sasha stand this guy? He’s been shamelessly flirting with me all evening right in front of her. And he’s totally ignored the rest of our group, Lisa and Josie and all the boys. All he cares about is impressing women. Well he certainly doesn’t impress me.
‘Josie’s been to New Zealand,’ Georgia changed the subject.
‘Have you?’ asked Sasha.
‘Last year. For a biology field trip. It was incredible.’ The chubby, chipmunk-faced redhead began to talk about the rainforests. Will feigned interest for about twenty seconds, then yawned pointedly and turned to Sasha.
‘I’m really knackered, babe. Let’s go back to yours.’
Sasha looked at her watch. ‘But it’s only nine o’clock, Will. It’s a bit early to go to bed isn’t it?’
‘Don’t worry. We won’t be going to sleep.’ He winked at Georgia.
Prick.
‘I’ll have a quick slash and we can make a move. Nice meeting you all.’ Getting to his feet, Will made his way to the men’s loos.
‘Sorry,’ said Sasha. She was clearly embarrassed. ‘He doesn’t mean to be rude. It’s just we haven’t seen each other for ages.’
No one said anything. In the end Danny, a wry engineer from Glasgow, said gently, ‘You know, Sasha, it’s none o’ my business. But I wouldnae say the two of you have an awful lot in common.’
‘We do,’ Sasha shot back automatically. ‘Honestly. At home we do. I think he feels a bit out of place here, that’s all. He’ll get used to it.’
I hope not, thought Georgia. The thought of Will Temple becoming a regular feature of their weekends was enough to make her bring up her lasagne.
On the walk back to college, it started to snow. Thick, soft flakes drifted down onto the cobbles, their progress illuminated by the warm orange glow of the street lamps. In front of them, King’s College Chapel rose out of the darkness like a fairytale castle. Sasha snuggled tighter into Will’s body.
‘You can see why I love it here, can’t you?’
‘Sure.’
Not a flicker of interest. Sasha tried again.
‘I mean, there’s a magic to it. Something in the air. Do you know what I mean?’
‘The air?’ said Will absently. ‘The air’s arctic. How far are we from your college? My nuts are about to drop off.‘
For the first time all day, Will noticed that Sasha