Brew Books

Chapter 18

I'm almost finished my cider, and I'm starting to feel significantly cheerier than I did when the others were still here. In the soft light of the pub, Harper's smile is enchanting. I like the way he makes bold statements, because it's so different from the way I doubt everything that I say.

'Do I get to guess your favourite book?' I say, determined.

'Of course,' Harper says. 'Go on, you have one guess tonight, and then you can try again tomorrow.'

I narrow my eyes and look at him. 'Well, you've recommended me Salinger and Bukowski, so I could assume one of those is your favourite. But somehow I don't think your favourite would be American.'

Harper raises his eyebrows, but doesn't interrupt.

'And from what you've told me tonight, you're a little bit pretentious with your reading habits.'

'Hah,' Harper says. 'I work in a book shop, how could I not be pretentious about my reading?'

I try to think of books that I think Harper would like, but the truth is I don't really know him too well.

'Is it 1984?' I ask.

'Nope,' Harper says, popping the P. He leans back in his seat, satisfied with my answer. 'Great guess, though. It's definitely up there.'

'I'll get it tomorrow,' I say pointedly.

'Not before I guess yours,' he says smugly. 'Another cider?'

I look down at my glass. 'I'm working tomorrow morning,' I say. 'I probably shouldn't stay out too late.'

Harper nods. 'Good call.'

We finish our drinks and walk to the tube station together. The temperature has dropped and I'm freezing, so Harper puts his arm around me as we walk, which makes my cheeks warm from blushing, if nothing else. But although I was half hoping we'd walk hand in hand or kiss after an evening drinking alone together, when we get back to the flat he says goodbye to me without even a hug.

I let myself into my own flat and change into pyjamas. I'm lying in bed, scrolling through Instagram, when my bedroom door opens. I look up, startled, half expecting to see Harper standing there, wanting to wish me goodnight.

But instead it's Will, wearing plaid pyjamas, and clutching a book to his chest, as usual. He pads across the room in his slippers and then jumps into bed beside me. I sit up awkwardly, conscious of the pink silk nightie, and the lacy white bralette I'm wearing underneath. I try to pull my covers up to hide my nightwear.

'How was it with Harper?' Will asks me in a whisper.

'It was fine,' I whisper back. 'We just chatted, had another drink, came home. Was Kitty mad?'

'No, she's fine,' Will says. He looks at me in the low light that my phone screen is giving off. 'Just be careful there, alright? You've only just moved here, and you don't want to jump into something and then regret it later.'

'I'm not jumping anywhere,' I tell him. 'Honestly, I just felt like another drink, and I think Harper needed one.'

'Okay, well... be smart,' Will says. He sits up again and says, 'I've got a book recommendation for you, by the way. Have you ever read Virginia Woolf?'

I shake my head. He places the novel on my bedside table and wishes me goodnight.

When he's gone I glance at the novel, and then back at my phone. My friend from home, Rachel, has just uploaded a picture on Instagram of herself, Nadia and Abby, each of them holding a glass of prosecco. The caption reads, "So good to see my fave girls on Saturday. Catch ups and gossiping much needed again soon! Xx"

I stare at the photo, trying to make sense of the background, but they're not in a bar I recognise. It's possible they're in Brighton, but the three of them are each at uni, which means they would have had to organise to meet together, whether it was at Brighton or at one of their university towns. So they organised to meet... and I didn't hear a word of it.

I open Whatsapp and find our group conversation, but we haven't chatted for days. I scroll back, in the off chance that I've missed messages organising a catch up, but there's no hint of it.

I stare at the photo, shattered by the idea that the three girls - who I introduced, who I led - have suddenly taken on a friendship without me, and completely excluded me from it.

I decide to Like the photo, to indicate I've seen it and hope that maybe one of them will feel guilty. It's almost midnight, so I set my alarm and try to sleep, still stewing over the idea of the girls organising a meet up without me.

• Author's Note •

Thank you lovelies for reading!

What's your favourite classic novel?

p.s. Don't forget to vote!

elle xx