Five Winters(57)

Silence fell—the kind of total silence you get when you wake up one winter morning and it’s been snowing. A blanket of silence where nothing feels the same as usual.

Mark switched the radio on. The sound of Bryan Adams singing a song from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves filled the car.

He groaned. “I can’t believe this is still number one,” he said, switching the radio off.

“Rosie and I loved that film,” I said.

“Only because you’ve both got a crush on Kevin Costner,” Mark retorted. “No idea why. He didn’t even try to do a proper accent.”

“You’re only jealous because he’s such a heartthrob,” I said.

“Jealous? Of that blow-dry fanatic? I’m surprised he even did all that high-action stuff when it could have messed up his hair.”

I grinned. Good. We were back in familiar territory.

Mark was right. I did make friends quickly with the people on my course. We were the same age, all crazy about animals and their welfare, sharing the same frustrations and successes. It was easy. I was happy. I even passed my driving test the second time around, as Mark had predicted. I still saw him after I started driving myself to uni, though. He and his friends hung out in the same cafeteria and student bar as we did, and sometimes my friends and I joined them, or they joined us. And that’s how I met Smithy.

My course was a practical one—half my time was taken up by academic study, but for the other half I was based at various veterinary practices to gain hands-on experience. The first time I witnessed an animal death as part of my work—a much-loved cat we had tried and failed to save on the operating table after a road traffic accident—I came home feeling tearful. The cat’s owners, including five-year-old twin girls, had been waiting for news in the waiting room. I hadn’t had to break the bad news to them myself, but I had witnessed their heartbreak, and it had cut me to the quick.

When I got home and realised Mark had a few friends round, I tried to sneak upstairs without anybody seeing me. But Sylvia’s distress radar was fully active, and after I’d told her what was wrong and received a sympathetic hug, I was urged to join everyone in the kitchen for pizza. Everyone sympathised with me, and Smithy tried to distract me with talk of a trip he was planning on taking to Belize in the summer.

“There’s a coral reef, so we’re hoping to do some snorkelling. And we’re going on a boat trip to try to see a manatee.”

“What’s a manatee?” I asked, never having heard of one.

“It’s a sort of sea cow,” he said. “They have flippers and a flat tail. They’ve become quite rare now, but I really hope we see one.”

“It sounds like a wonderful trip.”

“Why don’t you see if there are any places left, if you like the sound of it?” Smithy surprised me by saying. “Mind you, it’s quite expensive. I can only afford it because my parents gave me some money for my twenty-first birthday to top up my savings.”

Money wasn’t really an issue for me. At the age of eighteen, I’d inherited the money left to me by my parents, as well as some money from Aunt Tilda. I was going to use it to buy a flat in London, but it wouldn’t hurt to spend a bit of it for a holiday.

“What about the friend you’re going with? Won’t he mind if I tag along?”

“Kevin?” said Smithy. “He won’t mind.”

I never did get to find out whether Kevin minded me going or not, because almost as soon as we arrived in Belize, he hooked up with the only other single girl on the trip, and the two of them quickly became inseparable, leaving me and Smithy alone for the majority of the time. We visited Mayan ruins and caught glimpses of crocodiles laid up on riverbanks when we went on a boat trip through the jungle. We saw butterflies as big as our hands and tiny, jewel-bright hummingbirds. Rays and multicoloured fish swam past as we snorkelled, and dolphins arced out of the sea. We ate local food, drank local beer. It was fabulous. Apart from Smithy developing a crush on me.

On our final night, everyone danced on the sand to the music of a local band. When the music turned romantic, Smithy grabbed me.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to see any manatees,” he said, holding me close.

I tried a joke. “It’s not your fault they’re shy.”

But Smithy’s face was suddenly serious, and I knew he was going to kiss me.

“It’s been a fantastic trip,” I said, trying to keep things light.

“It wouldn’t have been nearly as good without you,” he said, lowering his head.

For a fraction of a second, I thought about letting him kiss me. About kissing him back. Smithy was a really nice guy, and it wasn’t as if Mark returned my feelings. In fact, he was totally oblivious to them. Why not go out with Smithy?

But then I tried to picture us back home, Smithy’s arm around me as we sat in the pub with our friends, and I just couldn’t do it. So I pulled back.

Smithy’s hands tightened on my shoulders. He looked down at me. “It’s Mark, isn’t it?” he said. “You’re in love with Mark.”

I thought about denying it. But in the end, I just said, “Don’t say anything, will you?”

And he sighed and let me go. “You should tell him,” he advised me.

I shook my head. “He doesn’t see me that way. Never has.”