How to Find Love in a Book Shop(9)

Rebecca, it seemed, thought differently.

‘It makes perfect sense. I want to major in English. I want to do it in the best place in the world. Which is here in Oxford, right?’

‘Well, yes. I suppose so. Or Cambridge.’

‘I’m smart enough. I know I am. If I can get into Brown, I can get into Oxford.’

Julius laughed again. Not at her, but at her confidence. The girls he knew were never as brazen about their abilities. They were brought up to be modest and self-effacing. Rebecca wore her brilliance with pride.

She crossed her arms. ‘Don’t laugh at me.’

‘I’m not. I just think you’re being a bit rash.’ That was an understatement.

‘I’m not getting on that plane.’

Julius gulped. She was serious. Besides, there was no way she was going to get her plane now. And as far as he knew, she had nowhere else to go.

‘What are your parents going to say?’

‘How can they argue?’

‘Easily, I’d have thought. Aren’t you supposed to be going to college?’

‘Yes. But you know what? It never felt right. I was just going because that’s what I was expected to do. But this feels right. I can feel it here.’

She pressed a fist to her heart. Julius looked at her warily, not sure if she was serious. He knew plenty of fanciful girls but they usually had a limit to their capriciousness. He felt anxious: clever, wilful and rich was a deadly combination, and he was pretty sure Rebecca was all of those. He’d got enough insight into her life to know it was very privileged.

Which was why she felt entitled to the ultimate privilege.

‘It’s what I deserve.’ She scrambled out of bed. ‘I’m going to get a job. Right here. In Oxford. And I’m going to sit the entrance exam and get a place to study here next year.’

She looked a little crazed. He wasn’t sure how to handle her. She was alien to him. The usual arguments weren’t going to work. He decided to pretend he thought she was joking.

‘It’s the scrumpy,’ said Julius. ‘It does that to you.’

‘You think I’m kidding, right?’

Julius scratched his head. ‘I’m not sure you’ve thought it through.’

‘Sure I have. I mean, what’s the problem? Why not? Seriously, tell me why not. It’s not like I’m running off with the lead singer of a rock band. I want to go to the best university in the world. Surely that’s a good thing?’

She was one of those infuriating people who made the craziest of ideas seem utterly plausible.

‘Look, let me drive you to the airport. You can change your ticket, go home and talk to your parents. If they agree, you can come back.’

‘Am I freaking you out?’

‘Well, yes, actually. A bit.’

She came over and put her arms around his neck. He breathed her in, his heart pounding. He felt weightless from lack of sleep and too much of her. He felt electrified, but he also felt responsible, because he knew his reaction would dictate what happened next: their future. He should take control; slow things down a bit.

‘This is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened. You and me. Don’t you feel that?’ she demanded.

‘Well, yes. It actually is. Amazing. I am … amazed.’ Julius could see she was carried away. Would there come a moment when she stopped to think and realised she was fantasising? That her vision was riddled with complications? ‘But I still think you should talk to your parents.’

As he said it, he thought how boring he sounded. But he wasn’t going to be responsible for her screwing her life up, or incurring the wrath of her family.

‘I’m going to. Right now.’ By Rebecca’s reaction, it didn’t seem to occur to her they might not think it a good idea. ‘I think they’ll be really excited. My dad loves England – he did an exchange when he was just a bit older than me and spent six months here. It’s why he sent me over for the summer. Where’s the nearest phone?’

‘There’s a pay phone downstairs in the hall,’ said Julius. ‘But you’ll have to reverse the charges. And do you think they’ll appreciate being woken up? Maybe you should wait until this afternoon?’

‘Maybe you’re right. It’s three in the morning. Let’s go and get something to eat while we wait. I’m starving!’

He took her off for a traditional English fry up – the ultimate hangover cure – and prayed that after some sustenance the combined effects of the scrumpy and their torrid night might recede a little. No such luck. By three o’clock that afternoon she was as determined as ever to see her plan through. She was resolute as she phoned them – he imagined her parents in their perfect New England kitchen being shocked to discover that they weren’t going to be driving to the airport that afternoon to collect her after all. He wondered if they were used to flights of fancy from Rebecca. Whether she would come upstairs in a few minutes, crushed and dissuaded.

He listened to her voice floating up the staircase.

‘Oxford is me, Daddy. As soon as I got here I knew. This is where I want to be. This is where I want to study. It’s in my bones and my blood and my heart and my soul …’ Julius raised an eyebrow. She was very convincing. ‘You know how wonderful it is. You told me yourself. You’ll just have to come back here and see for yourself. If you don’t agree with me, I’ll come home with you. That’s the deal, Daddy.’