Alice Ross - A Winter's Wish

‘Anyone sitting here?’ a gangly youth with dark floppy hair had asked on her first day at Cambridge. All the freshers had been summoned to a meeting on “Keeping Safe” in one of the lecture theatres.

Amelia had shaken her head, far too taken aback by how devastatingly good-looking he was to add any words to the gesture.

He plumped down on the bench alongside her. ‘I hate all this induction stuff, don’t you? Can’t wait to get it all over with and get down to some serious drinking. You coming to the meet ’n’ greet thing at the pub after this?’

Amelia hadn’t intended going to the meet ’n’ greet thing. She’d been planning on scrutinising her reading list for what must have been the twenty-seventh time, making doubly sure she’d crammed in as much as she could before lectures started. But, gazing into those sparkling hazel eyes as he awaited her response, she found herself nodding.

‘Great,’ he said, delicious lips stretching into a grin. ‘I’m Doug, by the way.’

‘Amelia,’ croaked Amelia, simultaneously wondering how her throat was suddenly lined with sand, if she’d managed to get her name right, and why all previous thoughts of reading lists, colleges and induction lectures had suddenly left the building, replaced with an overwhelming urge to kiss that delectable mouth.

For the next hour, while the speaker droned on about keeping away from the river if “one had partaken of alcohol”, and how bikes should be “secured at all times”, Amelia was aware of nothing more than Doug’s firm body squashed up against hers. She’d never had any interest in the opposite sex before – had been far too focused on achieving the grades for Cambridge to even think about having a boyfriend. But that hour sitting beside Doug proved an epiphany. Now she understood perfectly what all the girls at school had been clucking about. Because, for the first time in her life, something was happening to her that she couldn’t control. Something exciting that made her stomach flutter.

Having dreamt up dozens of ridiculously romantic scenarios around the pub meet ’n’ greet, when she really should have been listening to the dangers of leaving your laptop unattended, the reality of the occasion unfortunately came nowhere near her naïve and unrealistic expectations. Firstly, because she’d never been out drinking before: crowded pubs and copious amounts of alcohol were an entirely new – and extremely overwhelming – experience for her. And secondly, because the moment Doug fought his way over to her, another figure appeared at her side.

‘Hi. I’m Imogen Forster-Brown,’ said the tall willowy girl, shaking back a sheath of platinum-blonde hair. She ran a cursory glance over Amelia before turning cool blue eyes to Doug. ‘My friends call me Immy.’

Ten seconds in the girl’s presence was long enough for Amelia to know that she would never be calling her “Immy”. But for all Imogen continued her hair-flicking, gazing at Doug all the while with huge blue eyes, his hazel ones, much to Amelia’s astonished delight, seemed far more interested in her. He’d asked her out in the second week and Amelia had been so happy she’d thought her heart might burst. Over the ensuing months, they spent every spare moment together, and every day Amelia toppled further and further in love. Thanks to Doug, her first year at Cambridge became the best of her young life. Until she received her end-of-year exam results.

‘I’m afraid you’re really going to have to pull your socks up if you want to stay here,’ her tutor had warned.

Amelia had fled that excruciating meeting and headed straight to her room, where she’d spent the next thirty minutes throwing up. Of course she’d known she hadn’t been working as hard as she could – realised she was spending time she should’ve been studying with Doug. But, erroneously it seemed, she’d thought she might, for once, be able to balance the two – have some semblance of a normal life rather than dedicating every minute of the day to her work. Obviously she’d been wrong.

Doug, needless to say, had sailed through his exams, even achieving the highest grades in his year for his Economics studies. He was one of those enviable souls to whom academic prowess came easily. Unlike Amelia who had to slog for every one of her achievements. And slog she had – all the way through school to achieve this place at Cambridge. Just imagining the ignominy of being kicked off her course – of feeling a complete and utter failure – was enough to make her tremble from head to toe.

And so, two days before they packed up for the summer break, she made a momentous decision. For the sake of her entire future, she had to finish with Doug. She hadn’t come this far, she’d reasoned, to have it all snatched away from her. And there wasn’t only her to think about. Her parents would be devastated, along with the committee who’d painstakingly selected her for the prestigious scholarship. Indeed, even if it wasn’t a condition of the award, Amelia would feel obliged to pay back the generous contribution.

When she’d informed him of her decision, Doug had been gutted, pleading with her to change her mind but, despite falling apart inside, Amelia had stuck to her guns. And to avoid any temptation of jumping on a train and going to see him over the summer, she’d headed straight out to Goa where she’d spent the entire break with her parents. It had been the worst four months of her life, the ache in her chest and the hollow, sick sensation in her stomach increasing daily.

Dragging herself back to Cambridge that autumn had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. The moment she’d spotted Doug as he walked around the quad, she knew she’d made a terrible mistake. Her entire body flooded with longing for him. She couldn’t believe how much she’d missed him, how much she ached to be in his arms again, how much she yearned to tell him she loved him. Because she did. Passionately. Absolutely. One hundred and ten per cent. Okay, so they’d have to restrict the time they spent together, and she wouldn’t come out with the first-class honours she’d always dreamed of, but so what? She’d settle for second or third class if it meant keeping Doug in her life.

She began to run after him, desperate to tell him all of this, when another figure appeared alongside him – one with a sheath of platinum-blonde hair. Imogen. Amelia came to a sudden halt as she watched them wind their arms around each other and exchange a passionate kiss. The hideous sensation that had suffused her, she could only describe as having a javelin pierce her heart.

And, once she’d firmly established that Doug and Imogen were indeed a couple, that feeling stayed with her for the next two years. Employing every strategy she could not to bump into them, she moved out of college and into a flat, a bus ride away from the university, avoided anything of a social nature, and launched herself into her studies. At the end of that torturous time, her resultant double first, which she once would willingly have offered her right arm for, seemed pointless, but it had at least made her parents proud and the scholarship committee congratulate themselves on selecting such a model student.

From Cambridge, she’d gone straight to Providential where, yet again, she’d thrown herself into her work. She’d had to. There’d been so much to take in that at times she’d thought her head might detonate. But, terrified of receiving another “you’ll have to pull your socks up” lecture, petrified of being found wanting and exposed as a fraud, she’d had to give it her all. Plus, completely absorbing herself in Statistical Methods meant less time to think about Doug, and absolutely no time to so much as contemplate another relationship, despite receiving numerous offers. Her heart had been well and truly shattered. And although the situation had been entirely of her own making, there was no way she would ever risk putting herself through that torture again.