Free I Could Love You by William Nicholson Page A

out of this ultra-hard estate in Cardiff. She was soft and southern and blue-eyed and blonde and he was dark and wild. He laughed at her accent and called her Babe and pretended she was too delicate to go out in the rain, and she said, ‘Yeah, right, I’m delicate,’ and put her hand down his jeans. That was a good time.
    The refreshments trolley approaches, rattling and clinking its cargo of drinks. The fat children look up, their lips and fingers smeared with chocolate, and set up a new whine.
    ‘Want a Coke, Mum!’
    ‘Thirsty, Mum!’
    ‘You want me to belt you one?’ offers the fat mother.
    ‘But Mu-u-um!’
    ‘I’m warning you, Wayne!’
    ‘But I’m thirsty!’
    So she gets them both Cokes, and they drink eagerly, sucking on their straws with long pulls. Then they return to the Celebrations.
    The train is coming in to East Croydon. People are getting up, leaving their seats. Chloe gets up too. She drags her suitcase through to the next carriage, pushing her way past the people who are preparing to get off.
    There she finds an empty window seat with just one other person on the other side, and she’s sat down and pulled her suitcase in beside her before she realizes it’s someone she knows.
    ‘Alice?’
    ‘Chloe?’
    It’s Alice Dickinson. She’s hardly seen her since they were at prep school together over five years ago. Now she’s all tall and thin, her face a little too long for her features, and more interesting than she used to be. Chloe runs a rapid check and decides it’s the eyes. There’s something appealing about those big brown eyes.
    ‘Home for Christmas?’
    ‘Yes,’ says Alice. ‘Term just ended.’
    Her voice is soft and musical. Chloe remembers Alice as a silent child. People change.
    ‘Me too. I’m at Exeter. I’ve been on trains for bloody hours.’
    ‘I’m at UCL.’
    ‘How’s it going?’
    ‘Okay. Still settling in, really.’
    ‘My first term’s been a total disaster,’ says Chloe cheerfully. Already in such a brief exchange she has satisfied herself that Alice remains one of life’s losers. She can tell from her tone of voice, and from the way she looks at her. The combination of timidity and envy gives Chloe a familiar sensation of power.
    ‘Why? What happened?’ says Alice.
    ‘Oh, I got this boyfriend called Hal, and then I had a thing with a guy called Robbie, and Hal went nuts and dumped me, and Robbie turned out to be a pain in the bum, and I had a row with the girls in my house, I thought this girl had such a great personality but really she’s so insecure, and I feel like I’ve not slept for a whole term, so all I’m going to do over Christmas is sleep.’
    ‘Wow.’
    ‘How about you?’
    ‘I’m pretty tired, actually. The work’s been pretty relentless.’
    They talk about their work and their teachers and never having enough money, with Chloe doing most of the talking, but little by little Alice opens up. By the time they get to Gatwick Chloe feels able to move on to more personal topics.
    ‘So what’s the story with boyfriends?’ she asks.
    ‘Not much of a story at all,’ says Alice.
    ‘No boyfriends?’
    ‘I’m not like you, Chloe.’
    ‘So what? I should hope not. But you look great, Alice. Why shouldn’t you have boyfriends?’
    ‘Oh, I expect I will. I’m just not very good at it, I suppose. I’m not sure I know how to play the game.’
    This interests Chloe.
    ‘You’re right,’ she says. ‘It is a game. If I fancy a boy I tell a friend, like, hey, I really like Hal, but don’t tell him. So the friend tells him. Then Hal comes on to me, and I play hard to get. Even though I’m the one started it.’
    Alice listens and a smile forms on her thin face. When she smiles she’s almost beautiful. Chloe senses her admiration, and it makes her like her.
    ‘I could never do that,’ says Alice.
    ‘It’s all a bit juvenile. I expect I’ll grow up one day.’
    ‘No, I think it’s great. I wish I could do it. But I just