Tilly Bagshawe - Scandalous

‘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? Re’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 was upset. She’d pulled away and started walking faster up ahead of him.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘It’s you. You’re the matter.’ She turned around. Snowflakes began to settle on her shoulders. ‘You were really rude to my friends back there.’

‘Oh, come on, Sash. They weren’t exactly the most exciting bunch. Apart from the blonde.’ He smiled knowingly.

‘They’re my friends, Will. Do you know how bored I am with your friends? But at least I make an effort.’

Now it was Will’s turn to get angry. ‘An effort? Don’t talk to me about making an effort. At least I came up here to see you, which is more than you’ve been bothered to do all autumn.’

‘Well, why did you come? You don’t want to see me. All you want to do is have sex!’

‘So? What’s wrong with sex? Jesus, Sasha. If you want to go out with a fucking intellectual why don’t you go and marry Stephen bloody Hawking? It’s not me that’s changed. It’s you.’

That night they lay together in stony silence. Will fell asleep after about an hour, but Sasha lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through her conflicting feelings. Is he right? Have I changed? She couldn’t bear the thought that she’d abandoned him. They’d been so happy last summer, in the woods at Tidebrook. Was this how Professor Dexter felt, lying in bed next to his mean, bipolar wife? A stranger in his own life?

The next morning they patched things up, on the surface anyway. Will’s train was at two, so they spent the morning walking along the snowy Backs and had a goodbye lunch at Wagamama.

‘How are your noodles?’

‘Fine, thanks. Would you like another Coke?’

‘Oh, I’m OK. Thanks.’

The politeness was awful.

By three o’clock, Sasha was back at St Michael’s. It was properly winter now, and the sky was already beginning to fade to a bluish twilight that made the snow-covered college look like a Christmas card. But Sasha couldn’t enjoy it. She’d blown things with Will. It was over. In a few weeks she’d be home in Sussex for the holidays, and he’d be out with some other girl. Carolina Fuller probably. She’d been after him for months. Slut. Would Sasha regret it once she got home? Here, at Cambridge, her life in Sussex felt like a dream. But what if it was the other way around? What if home and Will were her reality, and her undergraduate life was just a passing phase? What if she never found love again?