On Monday morning the buses to the university campus were empty. Robin was one of just six people on the 9 o’clock lecture bus because it was the first day of the academic year and the timetables were not yet out. He alighted at the main bus stop by the Student Union building and the black and ochre sculpture made of girders, and crossed the campus ring road to the Art Department. He spent the morning greeting his lecturers and discussing his options for the year in their small, pokey offices. He ate a lunch of dry and overbaked lasagne in the jarringly coloured cafeteria underneath the campus library, and when he finished he climbed upstairs and began to pick out texts among the grey-carpetted corridors of books. The library was almost deserted.
Robin checked out three books and caught the bus back to Leamington. When he arrived back at the house it was three o’clock. Mike was sitting on the sofa in his dressing gown, playing on his games console.
“Hey,” said Robin, coming in and putting his books down on the coffee table.
“Hey mate,” Mike paused the game. “Been on campus?”
“Yes. You’ll be relieved to know that it’s still there.”
“Sweet. I’m looking forward to Top Banana tonight. We’ll see what the Freshers are like.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to make Top B tonight, mate. I want to get cracking on these babies,” Robin patted his books.
“Do you have lectures tomorrow?”
“No, not until Wednesday.”
“Well come out with us then! It’s the first one, it’s always good. Jean and Chris rang, and their lot are all heading out too, so it’ll be all our old flat together.”
Robin hesitated, and Mike saw that he was weakening.
“Go on.”
“Yeah, all right,” said Robin, “but you’ve got to give me a hand shopping for a drawer unit tomorrow. We might need your car.”
“It’s a deal,” said Mike. “Sweet as.”
He unpaused the game and continued to play.
Robin emptied out his pockets and saw that he had forgotten to turn his mobile phone on after leaving the library. As it turned on it began to vibrate in his hands as it received a message. It was from Emily. Robin sat down and began to tap out his reply.
They arranged to meet the following day. Emily finished work at six.
Rachel, Jack, Robin and Mike left their house at about seven o’clock that Monday evening, and walked down the street to the bus stop underneath the railway bridge. There were a lot of other people milling around in small groups, dressed up for the night at the Student Union.
“Did you text them?” asked Rachel.
“Yes,” said Mike. “They’ve just caught the bus. It should be the next one.”
“Cool.”
The sky was still bright, and the sun was warm on the skin but the air was cool in the long shadows. It felt like the end of the day.
“I hate going in this early,” said Robin. “I always end up drinking too much by the end.”
“You should dance more,” said Rachel. “Then you won’t drink as much.”
Mike stepped out into the road to look down the street for the bus.
“It’s better mate, and you know it. I’d rather be in and waiting for things to start than sitting at home for a couple of hours and trying to wrestle our way on to a packed bus.”
“Are you going to drive in at all this year?” asked Jack.
“Maybe,” said Mike. “If I want to go out the night before a nine o’clock I might.”
“Do you have a nine o’clock on a Thursday?” asked Rachel. “I’m going to Decadance with football on Wednesdays.”
“Not sure. I haven’t picked up my timetable yet,” said Mike.
“You’re terrible,” said Jack.
“Yep,” said Mike, and stepped into the road again. “Here it comes.”
The bus was held at the traffic lights before the railway bridge and everyone waiting could see it and they all moved towards the markings in the road where the bus would stop and stood in a loose huddle.
“Did you get your card yet?” asked Rachel.
“Friday,” he replied, waving his bus pass.
“How much are they this year?”
“Sixty per term, hundred and forty for the year.”
“Bloody hell. That’s gone up. I suppose I’ve got to get one.”
The lights changed and the bus rolled forwards across the intersection and pulled up in front of the waiting group. Jack was first, and turned and gestured through the glass to the others that she was going upstairs. They followed her, pulling themselves up the steep and tightly-wound steps. She was sitting at the back, talking to Chris and Jean. Robin and Mike walked up the aisle together, grabbing the seat rails as the bus started.
“Hi guys,” said Mike, reaching over and shaking their hands. “How’s it going?”
“Okay,” nodded Chris nonchalantly. Jean smiled.
“How’s your house this year?” asked Robin. The bus turned a corner and Rachel, the last to get on, staggered in her high heels as she made her way between the rows of seats towards the back of the top deck.
“We’ve got the same place we had last year,” said Jean. “It’s all right.”
Chris nodded in agreement.
“Looking forward to Top B?” asked Jack.
“Yeah,” said Chris, smiling. He tapped the back of Jack’s seat in a short staccato rhythm. “It should be good.”
“We’re going to get in a bit early. The doors open at 8,” said Mike. “Do you guys want to get a drink at the Airport first?”
“Sure,” said Chris. Jean nodded agreement.
The bus turned onto The Parade and began to climb the hill. Chris offered Mike a swig from a bottle of beer he was holding, and Mike took it gratefully.
“Should be a good night, huh?” said Mike.
“Yeah,” said Rachel.
The bus rounded off the top of The Parade and turned onto the long wide residential street which lead out of North Leamington.
“So what did you get up to in the summer, Jean?” asked Robin.
“I did some driving for my Dad’s company . They got a few large contracts,” said Jean.
The bus swung out of the top of the town and into the country. The sun was setting, and the light of it shone low and golden orange through the dirty glass windows of the top deck of the bus. Robin looked out across the fields as he was shaken back in his seat as the bus shuddered and changed gear as it came off a large grassed roundabout.
When they arrived on campus they had to wait until last to get off, and when they stepped out onto the pavement next to the trees the air was cool and still after the juddering of the bus. Mike stretched his arms out hard in front of him and cracked his knuckles.
“Right then,” he said. “Let’s get stuck in.” Rachel snaked her arm into Robin’s as they all walked towards the buildings. The group strung out a little.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m fine! Why do you ask?”
“You just seem a bit turned inwards.”
“I’m fine. I’m just worried about the year.”
“You too? I can hardly believe that it’s our last one.”
Robin shrugged. Rachel squeezed his arm.
The paths and pavements of campus were mostly empty, but there were groups of people in threes and fours sitting around on the grass, drinking and talking. An excited murmuring hung in the cool evening air and in it Robin could taste the freshness of another year starting. They crossed the open space in front of the Student Union and Rootes, and went inside and climbed the steps to the Airport Bar.
The Airport Bar was run by the university as part of its corporate entertainment complex, but it was used by students in term time and it was joined to the Student Union building by a bridge over the paths between them. Inside there was a wide long room with low blue plush seating arranged in rows, like an airport waiting lounge. There were hundreds of people sitting and standing, talking, drinking and eating. The bar was three deep in waiting drinkers and the barpeople were rushing sharply backwards and forwards in front of them.
“Right! My round first,” said Mike. “What’s everyone having?”
They settled in the last free seats in the bar, greeting people they knew as they walked past, talking about the summer and the year ahead loudly over the noise of the crowd. A blonde girl Robin recognised from his course but whose name he could never remember walked past the group, and he stood up and spoke to her as she walked, carrying drinks to her friends. The windows of the bar room looked out across one side of the Piazza, the amphitheatred square between the Union and the University's buildings corner of the campus road. Another white bus was emptying, and a stream of people were heading down the steps and drifting apart. Half of them were heading towards the Airport, and the others were heading towards the entrance to the Student Union. Robin glanced at his watch. It was half past eight.
“Hey, guys!” said Robin. “It’s half past. Do you want to head in?”
Rachel and Mike nodded, and Jack reached for her coat. Jean and Chris finished their drinks quickly and in silence.
“Let’s go.”
As they stood up their seats were taken by a group of people who had been standing nearby. The elevated walkway was locked, so they went down the carpetted steps of the university building and out onto the paved tiles of the Piazza. A short queue curled behind a metal crowd barrier past the small hairdresser’s shop and the cash machines in the open section by the entrance to the building. They showed their identification at the double doors and were waved inside by the stewards.
The dance floor had been revarnished to a rich dark brown for the start of the year but it was empty. On the ground level there was the dance floor which had a shallow stage where the two DJs stood behind a small mixing desk, and a short bar was tucked off to one side behind some tables.There were doors either side of the stage which led to a smaller dance floor and bar behind it, and the doors were open. Above was the main bar, and a balcony ran around the space above the dance floor and the stage. The music was loud and fast paced, but the noise of the bar upstairs drifted down over the edge of the balcony. People were drinking and talking.
Robin stepped down onto the wooden tiled dance floor and looked up at the stage lights hanging below the edge of the balcony and the people sitting around it, talking. He didn’t recognise any of the faces.
Mike jumped down the three steps to the dance floor and spread his arms out and span around.
“My spiritual home!” cried Mike, and Jack and Rachel laughed.
They crossed the dancefloor to the stair well and climbed up to the bar. It was busy. Most of the people were standing around near the bar, waiting for friends and their drinks.
Rachel was tapped on the shoulder by a tall man with small rimmed glasses as they walked, and she turned and shouted and hugged him.
“I’ll catch you guys up later, okay?” she said, as they went past. She began talking excitedly to the man. Robin recognised him from Rachel’s course.
The area stretching out in front of the main bar was all tables and seating; soft seats and chairs around large round tables, and a few stools next to short shelves on the walls. The lighting was clear but low, and the ceiling was made up of girders in structural patterns, painted white. The space thronged with people.
“It’s your round, mate,” Mike grinned at Robin.
“Right, okay,” he replied. “Same again? Jack, could you give me a hand with them?”
She nodded and followed him to the back of the mass of people at the bar. A minute or so later she slid her chin onto his shoulder.
“You know, I could get to the bar quicker, if you like,” she whispered in his ear.
“Okay,” said Robin, stepping aside.
A heavy-set man in a red and white rugby shirt was standing directly in front of them and Jack tapped him on the arm.
“Do you mind if I just slip in there?” she asked. The man stood back and waved her forwards. Robin handed her a twenty pound note and she stepped forwards again and ducked between two tall men and then he couldn’t see her head any more.
A group of girls in a mixture of loose baggy tops, short skirts and black trousers came up to the bar and stood next to Robin, looking into the mass of people with looks of dismay. One of them caught his eye and smiled, and he smiled back. She shrugged.
“You know, if you just want bottles, the bar downstairs is nearly empty,” he said.
“There’s a bar downstairs?” said the girl. “Oh, right. Thanks! I didn’t spot it when we came in. I’m Kirsty, by the way.”
The girl extended her hand and if she hadn’t had professed to ignorance of the bars in the Union Robin would have known her for a Fresher by the easy way she introduced herself. Students joining the university for the first time were starting entirely new lives, and after a few days the introductions became easy.
“Robin,” he said, shaking her hand. A couple of the girls nodded and smiled their thanks as they passed him. He stood and watched them go. Kirsty was a very pretty girl.
Jack’s voice called out high and sharp from the front of the bar, so Robin went to help carry the drinks.
Later that night, Robin was standing looking at the dance floor from the balcony above trying to spot his friends, with a pint of lager in one hand. The DJs were shouting into each other’s ears to make themselves heard above the music. They were playing an old 70s disco record, and people were making their way to the dance floor but finding it full and dancing on the steps and in the bar area around it. Mike suddenly came through the doors to the side of the stage and Robin saw him push through the mass of people dancing to get to the stairs and come up to the bar. Robin walked over to the top of the steps and greeted him.
“How are you doing?” he asked. Mike was bathed in sweat and grinning.
“Fucking fantastic, mate. You should dance. Some of the Freshers near us, man. Have to be seen to be believed. Brilliant.”
Mike shook his head, still smiling.
“Pint?” asked Robin.
“Yeah,” said Mike. “I’m parched. Kronenbourg, please.”
They walked over to the bar. Robin asked for the drink. The bar was clear, and the barman poured the pint straight away.
“I will never understand,” said Mike, leaning heavily on the bar, “ how those girls can dance the way they do.”
“The Freshers?” asked Robin. Mike paused.
“Well, yes, but no. Our girls. They get out there at about nine thirty and don’t stop dancing until the music stops. I’m knackered.”
“You’re getting old,” said Robin.
“Fuck off.”
“Here you go.”
“Thank you sir. You are a gent and a scholar. Your very good health.”
They drank.
“Do you want to go and sit down?” asked Robin.
“I think a spot just here should do the trick,” said Mike, gesturing at the balcony.
They moved and sat down, looking over the heaving mass of dancers.
“Feels good to be back, doesn’t it?” said Mike.
Robin did not say anything.
“Here mate, check out that group of girls by the big speaker,” Mike gestured with his glass. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Robin looked and recognised the girls from the bar earlier. They were dancing in a tight circle on the packed dance floor and were bunched up close together. He saw Kirsty detach from the group and disappear into the crowd.
“Very nice,” said Robin.
“Yeah,” said Mike. “My friend,” he clinked his glass against Robin’s, “I have a feeling this is going to be a fucking excellent year.”
Robin grinned at him with a humour he did not feel and raised his glass.
“To a fucking excellent year,” he said.
Mike finished his drink.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go and dance.”
Robin did not want to, but he left his drink on the balcony seat and followed his friend to the stairs.
On Tuesday morning Robin woke after eleven and watched television with coffee and cereal until nearly one o’clock when he lost his patience. He thumped on Mike’s door without rising from his seat in the living room. There was no answer, so he banged the door again and a moan came from inside. A moment later Mike opened the door, tying his dressing gown.
“What?” said Mike.
“It’s nearly one o’clock,” said Robin without turning around from the television.
“And?” said Mike, still standing in the doorway. “Did my Mum give you instructions or something?”
“You said you’d drive me into town to pick up a chest of drawers.”
Mike sat down on the sofa.
“Oh yeah. Okay.”
They sat in silence until the commercial break.
“How are you feeling this morning?” asked Mike. “You seemed pretty drunk.”
“Just a headache. I took something for it.”
Mike nodded.
“No lectures today?” asked Robin.
“Not sure. I meant to go in and get my timetable today. Want to come in after we get the drawers?” askedd Mike.
“No, I’ve got something on this evening.”
Robin picked up his bowl and mug and went into the kitchen, and Mike followed him and flicked the kettle on.
“What you up to?”
“I’m meeting someone,” Robin said, flatly.
“Okay,” said Mike. He poured a spoonful of instant coffee into a cup.
Robin turned from the sink and looked at him. Mike looked up.
“What?” said Mike.
“Nothing.”
“Okay. Where do you want to look for drawers?”
“I thought maybe the charity shops on that street across The Parade, and then that furniture place at the last.”
“Okay. That furniture place isn’t too bad, you know. You could probably pick up a cheap set there.”
“I know, but I want to check the charity shops first. Are you hungover? I mean, are you okay to drive?”
“Sure, no problem, I’m fine.” The kettle clicked off and Mike poured the water.
”I’ll shower, and then we can get going.”
They drove into the centre of the town and parked the car in the cinema car park. They walked along the street which housed most of the town’s charity shops, stepping into each one to ask the volunteers about furniture. None of the shops had a chest of drawers, and in the last one Mike held them up flicking through a white wire rack of dusty records.
“I think we’re a bit late,” said Robin.
“Yeah,” said Mike, coming away. “Come on, Iet’s pick you out a nice small, light, cheap chest of drawers from the furniture place,” said Mike.
“You lazy bastard. You can bring the car around. We don’t have to carry it far.”
They walked down The Parade to the furniture store, which had large glass windows and sofas and bookcases in them. Mike pushed open the door and walked in. They wandered around for a while until they found the right area. A fresh-faced shop assistant, younger than they were and wearing a suit and a name badge walked over to them.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, we wanted to see your cheapest set of drawers, please.”
“Oh! Students, are you?” asked the assistant.
“No,” said Mike, “we're fucking customers.”
“Just point us in the direction of the cheapest chest of drawers, please,” said Robin.
The assistant, whose name badge declared him to be Marcus, patted a cheap white pine unit and did not look at Mike.
“This is the cheapest one. We’re almost out of this colour but we have more of the same model in a dark effect coming in tomorrow.”
“That’s fine,” said Robin. “I’ll take it.”
He frowned at Mike. The assistant nodded at Robin and walked away.
“What the fuck was that about?” asked Robin.
“I hate it when people assume we’re students because we don’t want to spend much money,” said Mike.
“Mate, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we are students.”
“I know, and we don’t spend much money, I know, I know. It just pisses me off. That’s all. Go and fucking pay, will you.”
The assistant was standing by a till in a small dark writing table with a long cardboard box leaning against it.
“Here you are,” said the assistant, patting the box.
“Oh!” said Robin. “It’s a flat pack?”
“Yes.”
Robin picked up the box and hefted it. Mike was sitting in a floral print covered armchair on the other side of the shop floor, looking out of the window.
“That’s fine. We’ll be able to carry it to the car,” said Robin.
Robin paid for the chest and walked over to Mike with the box under his arm, gripping it with both hands. Mike got up without saying anything and started walking towards the door.
“Can you grab the other end of this?” asked Robin when they were outside.
“All right. Shift along.”
The two of them turned onto a side street and Robin smiled and apologised to an old woman for blocking the pavement when they turned the corner.
“I had a really good night last night,” said Robin, to break the silence as they walked.
“It didn’t seem like it.”
“I did.”
“You were really quiet all night.”
“Yeah, well.”
They stopped at a crossing and waited for the lights to change. Robin blinked in the sunlight. It was warm.
“Look, mate, you know Friday night?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m seeing her again tonight.”
Mike stopped and turned around, taking the full weight of the box from Robin and setting it on its end. They looked at each other.
“You’re what?”
“Seeing her tonight.”
“Seriously?” Mike’s eyes were wide.
“Yes, seriously.”
“Mate.”
“I know. I wasn’t sure about it but I am. I just wanted to see her.”
“Okay! Okay. Wow.” Mike picked up the box and swung the top down to Robin. They crossed the road into the car park and Mike unlocked his car. They slid the box into the back seat from the driver’s side.
“Why?” asked Mike.
“I really like her.”
“How old is she, mate?” Mike’s voice was high, more curious than harsh.
“I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“Well, no,” Mike got into the car and nodded to Robin through the window. “It’s open.”
Mike started the car and they pulled out of the space.
“I know it doesn’t matter but it kind of does,” said Mike. “You’re twenty years old and you’re at university, mate. There’s women everywhere.”
“Not really,” said Robin. “You know it isn’t like that.”
“It is!”
“No, I mean, it isn’t. I just like her. And I haven’t liked anyone who likes me for ages.”
Mike was quiet. He reached down and turned on the car stereo. They turned onto The Parade and drove past the Spa Rooms and the park and over the bridge.
“Fair enough mate,” he said, finally. “Fair enough.”
