Impossible to Forget(14)

‘Well, that’s it,’ said Angie definitely. ‘You’re dropping chemical engineering right now! What a waste! You should be in London playing Ronnie Scott’s. Or somewhere in New Orleans.’

Leon came back to the corridor and sat on the floor. He picked up his half-drunk can and dropped his gaze to the floor, shaking his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘That life’s not for me. I need a proper job. One that will actually pay the mortgage that I’m hoping to get.’

‘But you can’t do that,’ Angie insisted. ‘Not now. You owe it to yourself to be a musician. Hell, with a talent like that you owe it to the world.’

Leon’s cheeks blazed and he squirmed slightly, clearly uncomfortable at being in the spotlight for so long.

He nodded at the guitar that was still in Tiger’s hands. ‘Your turn,’ he said.

‘I am never playing again after that!’ replied Tiger with a grin. ‘What am I but some totally untalented hack?’

But he did lift the guitar again and started to pick out ‘Hotel California’.

‘Don’t you know anything from this decade?’ asked one of the others in a mocking tone, and Tiger immediately stopped playing mid-line.

‘There’s nothing from this decade worth playing,’ he replied.

‘Touché,’ said Maggie, and then wished she hadn’t in case it made her sound over-intellectual. She felt warmth creeping up her throat, although the wine wasn’t helping in that regard either.

‘Fair point,’ muttered the heckler.

Angie was still staring at Leon as if no one else was present.

‘Seriously, Leon,’ she said. ‘You have to do something with that talent. I mean. Seriously.’

Leon still looked decidedly uncomfortable. His ears and neck had gone red as well, pimples standing out angrily, and he stared resolutely at the carpet as if hoping that this would make Angie stop chiding him.

After a few moments, she seemed to give up and started talking to the others. She was right, though, Maggie thought. Leon really should make more of his talent, but she understood his thought processes. It was far more sensible to get a degree and a real job, and then play his music as a hobby; a wonderful one, but still a hobby.

They stayed in the corridor chatting and drinking for a while longer until they started to get complaints from some of the other residents about the noise levels.

‘I think we’ve outstayed our welcome,’ said one of Angie’s gang, as another door opened and then banged shut, the occupant expressing their displeasure. ‘Shall we head over to the Union?’

Maggie wasn’t keen on that idea. She was already up later than she’d intended to be. But then again, there was the draw of Tiger. If he was going to the Union, then perhaps she should go, too.

‘I think I’ll call it a night,’ said Leon ruefully. ‘I’ve got a nine o’clock lecture. I really should . . .’

‘Don’t be so boring,’ laughed Angie. ‘You’ve got the rest of your life to go to bed early. Come to the Union with us!’

Leon was obviously wavering. He looked at Maggie as if she could answer his quandary for him, but she just shrugged.

‘Oh, what the hell!’ he said. ‘I’m in.’

This was so unlike Leon, Maggie thought, wondering whether she had got him all wrong after all. She was glad, though. He was such a lovely person, and it would do him good to be out. This thought made Maggie feel like his mother, so she dismissed it and turned her attention back to Tiger. He too seemed a little reluctant to go to the Students’ Union. Maggie felt that he was holding back. Was he waiting to see what she was going to do before he committed? She hardly dared even think that.

Angie’s friends stood up, making complaining noises about pins and needles in legs and feet, and soon they were ambling noisily down the corridor with Leon in tow. Angie herself had disappeared back into her room to replace the guitar, leaving Maggie and Tiger alone in the corridor.

‘So, Mags,’ he said. ‘You coming?’

Her dilemma was almost palpable. She also had early lectures and a tutorial that she needed to be sharp for. She had had enough to drink for one night, too. Any more would risk a hangover, which she could ill afford. And the Students’ Union wasn’t the ideal place for the intimate tête-a-tête that she had in mind. It could be so loud in there that it was almost impossible to have a decent conversation.

‘Or we could just go for a walk around the lake,’ he suggested, leaning in towards her so that his thigh brushed hers. His voice was softer now that there were just the two of them. ‘I promise not to push you in,’ he added with a smile. He seemed different, less brash, the performance that his life seemed to be paused for a moment.

Maggie raised an eyebrow as if to say that if he even tried to push her in she wouldn’t hesitate in taking her revenge, but before she had time to reply Angie reappeared wearing the moth-eaten Afghan coat that made Maggie’s skin crawl.

‘Right!’ Angie said. ‘Let’s go,’ and set off after the others.

Maggie dithered for a second, but it was too long.

‘Definitely not coming?’ asked Tiger, taking a step away from her. The electricity escaped immediately.

Maggie’s heart sank and then her irritation rose. What was going on here? It felt like he was two people – the gentle romantic who had suggested a quiet moonlit walk, and the life-and-soul party animal that he was with Angie. Her mind flicked to John Travolta’s character in Grease.