book.
âRaymond Chandler?â he said, surprised. âI was expecting something a little more genteel.â
âLike what?â
âPerhaps something with bonnets.â
âIs that because of Joad?â It came out annoyed even though I didnât mean it to.
He smiled a beautiful smile and stretched out his legs in front of him. I was distracted by how close his limbs were to mine and how easy it would be to put my hand down and brush his jean-covered thigh, so instead I concentrated on his t-shirt, not brave enough to look at him directly in the face.
âClearly, I got it wrong. More likely to have a pearl-handled pistol than a bonnet.â
âThatâs right, Iâm a femme fatale.â
âConsider me warned. Anyway, what are you doing here?â
I pointed to the phone cubicle where the crying had changed to a kind of choked pleading. He listened.
âThatâll be Tess,â he said. âShe was like this all of last year.â He got up and banged his palm firmly on the frame of the wooden door.
âPeople waiting,â he called out.
There was a sharp intake of breath, then some fierce whispering and then a louder âLook, Iâve got to go . . . I love you . . . ring you tomorrow.â Tess came out, blinking, eyes red. She shot a furious look at me before noticing Rogan standing there.
âTell me itâs not the same guy as last year,â he said.
She gasped slightly, âActually, no,â and tears began to leak down her face.
âOh, right. Long-distance relationships.â He turned and made a comical grimace at me. She gave a watery smile and then left.
âPhoneâs all yours,â he said, while holding open the door to the cubicle. âNot a long-distance relationship, I hope.â
âOnly if you count mothers,â I said.
âThat I can allow.â
We both paused as if neither one quite knew how to finish our conversation.
âRachel said I should ask you out.â
âReally?â I didnât know if I should feel gratitude or anger towards her. âDo you always do what Rachel says?â I asked, desperately hoping he did.
âShe threatened to garrote me if I didnât. For real this time.â
I smiled. Perhaps I did owe her one. âWell, we couldnât have that.â
âGlad you agree,â and he grinned back. âAnd I think a Raymond Chandler movie is playing at Film Group on Friday night. Double Indemnity.â
âReally?â I pretended that Kesh hadnât already asked me to go with her.
A shout came up the corridor. âRogan!â It was Stoner. He ambled towards us at faster than his usual pace.
âThey phoned,â he said. âYou need to call back.â He handed Rogan a piece of paper.
âYou use the phone,â I said. âIâm not in a rush.â
âNo, itâs OK. You were the one waiting. Maybe Iâll see you at the movie.â
âMaybe you will,â I said with my best wise-cracking dame nonchalance.
I watched him walk the whole way down the corridor, with Stoner talking to him. Then I sashayed into the cubicle and gleefully punched in my home number.
·  ·  ·
I spent Friday afternoon trying not to fall asleep on the shoulder of a big burly uniformed policeman. Our Contracts lecturer had been sick and the lecture had been rescheduled for the last session of the week in an airless room that had been warmed by an army of bodies throughout the day. I tried to concentrate on what was being said but there was something slippery about the subject matter and I was almost hypnotised by the droning voice. Toby had told me that no one really worried about lectures or tutorials until second semester. Dale, the policeman, didnât seem to know this and sat next to me writing everything down at a furious pace.
âThis friend of yours, heâs got a law degree?â