Free Kiss Heaven Goodbye by Tasmina Perry Page A

gave a small laugh.‘No, no, nooo...’ he said.‘Much too scary.’

    Grace raised a sceptical eyebrow, but Alex shook his head.

    ‘I mean it. At one point she was going on about some banker boyfriend with a massive cock and a Ferrari. I don’t want her talking about me like that.’

    ‘Which bit? Your cock or your Ferrari?’

    She felt her cheeks flush and was glad of the dark.

    Think obvious , she chided herself.‘Want to go back to the beach?’ she asked and he helped her up, then followed her, stumbling and cursing at hidden tree roots and branches.

    ‘Anyone would think you’d never been to paradise island before,’ teased Grace when they were safely back on the sand. They walked along the beach in silence, occasionally looking up at the vast starry sky, the only sound their footsteps and the gentle lap of the waves.

    ‘You glad you came?’ she asked softly.

    ‘Obviously I’d rather be in Macclesfield right now.’

    She giggled. ‘What are you going to do when you get back?’ she asked. ‘I mean, you don’t start music college until September, right?’

    ‘Miles is talking about a trip around Europe but I’d need to get a job first. My mate says there’s something going at Piccadilly Records, this really cool record shop in Manchester, but it’s a long shot. Anyway, anything’s going to be a bit of a comedown after this.’

    ‘Maybe you could have a working holiday.’

    He pursed his lips thoughtfully.

    ‘You could go to the Cote d’Azur and be gigolos. Like Richard Gere in that film.’

    ‘Except he got framed for murder, didn’t he?’ Alex smiled.

    ‘Without the murder.’

    ‘Anyway, I’d be with Miles. Can you see him waiting tables in some Greek taverna?’

    ‘No, I can’t.’

    ‘Can I tell you something?’ he asked.

    ‘Of course, what is it?’

    Alex shrugged. ‘I don’t want to go to the Royal Academy.’

    It was Grace’s turn to gape. ‘But didn’t you get a full scholarship? I thought you were like the most promising musician in the country or something?’

    He looked away, embarrassed. ‘Yeah, but it’s not what I want. I want to get on with playing music, get into a band, start gigging, all that. Studying Gregorian chants or Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony just doesn’t seem like as much fun. I’d actually rather be going to art school – all the best bands formed at art school: Roxy Music, Talking Heads, Devo . . .’

    ‘I can see you now. Long hair, spray-on leather pants, an electric-blue guitar . . .’

    ‘I’m never going to wear spray-on leather kecks,’ said Alex with feeling.

    ‘Oh you say that now, but wait until you start as a gigolo.’

    She paused and observed his bleak face. ‘So why are you going there then?’

    ‘Because it’s the Royal Academy of Music,’ he said expansively. ‘Because it’s my mum’s dream that I go there.’

    Grace laughed. ‘Ah, now that sounds familiar.’

    ‘Because it will break her heart if I don’t. She’s made so many sacrifices for me over the years.’

    ‘She’s your mum. She wants the best for you. She wants you to be happy.’

    Alex met her gaze. ‘So why haven’t you told your dad you want to go to Oxford?’

    She felt a prickle of shame. ‘How do you know about that?’

    ‘You told me in Bristol. Then I heard your dad talking at dinner about you joining the company in August. I asked him about your MA course at Oxford and he looked at me as if he had no idea what I was talking about.’

    She felt startled, panicked. ‘Oh, no. You didn’t mention that, did you? I’ve not told him. Not yet anyway.’

    ‘Bigmouth strikes again.’

    ‘No, I’m glad,’ she said, not entirely convincingly. ‘It needs to be said. At least now it might not come as such a big surprise.’

    Alex nudged gently into her. ‘Wherever we end up, we will stay in touch, won’t we?’ he said finally.

    A beam of excitement pierced through her worry. ‘Sure. We could go to, er, a gig