Chapter Eleven
I do return to the down side of the river at the same time next day. The rain has held off, although the sky is dark blue and miserable.
"You actually came!" I hear his voice before I see his figure. Today, he's wearing a green shirt with dark blue jeans. Magically it looks really good on him. I look around us only to spot a small group of tourists staring at Joe. That must be his group.
"You're almost empty today!" I shout back as he leads the group of tourists towards me. There must be only a handful, not more than ten.
"It's a bit quiet," he waves me over.
"Are you sure this is okay?" I ask as I step beside him. "You're not going to get into trouble, are you?"
"Never. It's not like I've got anything else to do. As long as I'm back at the tourist office in time for my next tour in forty-five minutes, no one will give a shit."
We grin at each other.
"So, are you a freshman?" He asks.
I nod.
"What are you studying?"
"English Lit."
"Do you like it?"
"It's not bad..."
"Oh-oh," he shakes his head, "that does not sound promising."
"No, no," I smile, "I like it..." I try to convince him because I don't want to explain about Nick.
There I go again, thinking about him. Ugh. Miley stop.
"Oh just toss stupid college away and come be a tourist guide with me." He suggests offhandedly.
"Is it hard?" I ask with curiosity. I wonder what would be the feeling of being the leader of a group of people who depend on you.
"You want to try?" Before I have time to awknolegde what's happening, Joe turns toward the people behind us and shouts. "Miley here will be taking you on tour from now on. I'm going to step back in, she's a newcomer so please behave." He gives me a smile and steps into the small group.
I look at him, trying my best to shoot daggers into his eyes. Thanks Joe, thanks.
"We have forty minutes left, and we're still in the same spot!" an old man, already grumpy, ticks his watch. I shake my head. I'm not doing this.
No way in hell.
"C'mon," Joe says, "what have you got to lose?"
"My pride?" I place my arms over my chest. "I will never do this. Never."
Joe gives me a smirk, "You never know. You might surprise yourself."
It turns out Joe was right.
"Henry VIII was the king of England. Here is his home, the house he was literally born in." I point to my right. "And we can see the big rolling hills behind it, which he always used as an anegdote to interest his people. He always liked to say that he watched the sun fall behind those very hill, every night." I smile.
My tourists murmur with interest.
Yes, you read that right. My tourists.
After the first time, and in case you're wondering - yes, Joe made me do an excursion for the rest of his time- anyway, after the first time I kind of just fell in love with it.
So here I am now, with a tour behind my back like I'm a mother duck and they are my ducklings, walking down the pathway along the river with stories about kings and queens who built castles here or who ruled England themselves.
A familiar dark-curly guy looms up ahead. I smile. "Afternoon," I say chirply as my group and I walk past them.
"Oi!" He calls after me, his brow furrowed because I've overtaken him.
"I see you've slowed down..." I joke.
"Too tired to care that the pupil has overgrown the teacher," he winks at me. "You up for a drink at the Anchor after work?"
That's a local pub on the river.
"Absolutely."
It's a sweltering afternoon when I breathe a sigh of relief and put the keys of churches and old houses and museums into the key's room. Today was a hard, but a very good day. A couple of tourists even tiped me generoulsy.
I wipe my arm across my brow. If it's this hot in May, I can't imagine what next month will be like. I've tied my hair up into a bun, but I can feel perspiration at the nape of my neck.
I step out into the sunlight and walk up to the pub. Tables and chairs butt up against the ropes on the pavement overlooking the river. Joe is already inside at the bar. He turns and flashes me a grin, before handing over what has now become my regular: a pint of lager.
I never thought I'd be a lager girl, I can tell you that much.
"Here you go, Southern Girl."
"Cheers, Skyblu."
Our nicknames have stuck. We chink glasses and each glug down a few mouthfuls. The bitter-tasting liquid hits the back of my throat and instantly cools me down from the inside out.
"Pretty full-on day, huh?" Joe comments.
"Just a bit."
"How many did you do?" He's reffering to tours.
"Six."
"Pansy," he teases.
"Yeah, yeah, I know I still haven't come close to touching your record, but I'm getting there."
He nudges me affectionately. "You don't do half bad, considering you're a little one."
A stool comes free at the bar. He passes it to me, then leans up against the wooden bar top. We always seem to find outselves standing up there until our pals arrive, and then more than often we relocate to a table, outside if we can find one.
"Thanks," I say for the stool. I'm desperate to sit down. "How's your student search coming along?" I ask. Las year, Joe's parents left the UK to go abroad for two and a half years. His dad is a lawyer at a top firm and they wante dhim to work in their Washington office for a while, so Joe's parents left him to look after the house with permission to rent out two of the bedrooms to students.
It worked well, but as both students were third years he needs to find a couple of new ones for September.
"Why don't you move in?" he asks casually, taking a sip of his lager and regarding me over the bim of his pint glass.
"Are you serious?" I ask, "You wouldn't want to live with me," I say dismissively.
"Sure I would."
"You work with me. You want to live with me too?"
"Why not? We could walk to work together."
"Commute together, as well? Why don't we get married and have to kids while we're at it?"
He makes a disgusted face. "Christ, what a thought."
"That was rude!" I try to act insulted but I can't keep a straight face. He grins and wraps his arm around my neck, before pressing his lips to the top of my head.
We have a very good relationship, Joe and I, but there's absolutely no sexual chemistry between us whatsoever. I couldn't have been friends with him if there was. I know he doesn't 'like' me in the slightest. And that's important to me.
I still love Nick.
I still miss Nick.
But Joe has been my saviour. He resuscitated me. I don't know what I would do without him.
"You're not going to get anywhere with Blondie if you keep doing that in front of her," I giggle before looking over his shoulder at the girl behind the bar. He's been making eyes at her for weeks. He grins and chinks my glass again.
I notice the blonde behind the bar glance our way and her brow furrows slightly. Maybe she does have the hots for Joe after all. Me being here is not going to help his cause, but I can't leave. I need him too much. I litterally shudder at the thought of losing him.
"You're not coming down with anything, are you?" he asks with concern, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead.
"No, I'm fine," I change the subject. "Let's go see if the others are here?"
"Sure," he looks over at the bar girl, but she turns her back. I can't help but to feel guilty as he follows me out through the pub.
"No!" Joe shouts at Oliver, a tall, dark haired, good looking guy who's also a punter. "She doesn't need another one."
"Who are you, her father?" Oliver shouts back from the doorway. "Miley, what are you having?"
I wave him away and point to Joe, who's sitting to my left on a long bench seat. "No, he's right," I slur. "I should probably call it a night."
"Party breaker." Oliver mutters, turning to go inside.
We laft the Anchor a couple of hours ago and relocated to an Inn on the other side of the city, near our tourist office. We're sitting at a bench table in the courtyard.
"Aren't you coming clubbing?" Emily asks with disappointment from across the table. Emily works at the kiosk selling our tickets. She's pretty, a little taller than me with shoulder-lenght brown hair and blue eyes.
"It's a Thursday night." She moans at Joe, who's usually her most dependable drinking buddy.
"No, I'd better get Southern Girl home," Joe says, sliding out from the bench seat.
"I can manage." I try to stand up, but wobble dramatically. Joe puts his hands on my waist and lifts me clear of the top of Mike –another one of our friends-who's sitting on the other side of me.
"See you tomorrow," Joe calls to our mates, still half carrying me. He steers me through the old, narrow pub with it's dark wooden beams and low ceiling to the street exit.
"Bye." I say to Joe, who lives in the other direction.
"You're not walking home alone in this state," he snaps, pulling me back. "I think you'd better stay at mine."
"Again?" I groan. "Everyone already thinks you're my boyfriend."
"Never gonna happen."
I crash over at his all the time. I've never been able to bond with the students at my hall of residance, maybe because I was so broken when I went to live there. But even though I'm, well, I wouldn't say fixed, but certainly in a state of repair, I don't feel like I can suddenly fit in.
Joe has been here for me through this transformation. My fellow students put this down to him. Down to love. It doesn't matter enough to me to convince them otherwise. I tried once, but the girls teased me and didn't believe a word of it. They seem to want me to have found someone. I don't want to disappoint them.
Pancakes. Mmm.
I sleepily open my eyes the next morning to see that, as predicted, Joe is nowhere to so be seen. Which of course means only one thing.
Breakfast.
I'm in Joe's room at the front part of the house. He's been staying in the master since his parents left, and their king sized bed is more than big enough to comfortably house both of us.
I climb out of bed and drag on one of his T-Shirts, which comes almost to my knees as he's about a foot taller than me, and make my way downstairs.
"Morning," he says chirpily.
I collapse on a chair at the kitchen table. "I don't know how you do it." I say.
"Do what" He winks.
"How can you get wasted the night before and wake up feeling all cheery the next morning?"
He flips a pancake in the air. "What can I say? It's a talent." He leaves the pan on the stove and rushes towards me to pour me a cup of coffee.
"One of many." I smile at him.
"You're too kind," he winks again and dishes up two plates of pancakes. He places one plate in front of me, and the other on the opposite end of the table before he sits himself.
"I have a class this afternoon." I sigh.
"Ooh, that must be exciting." He says and I roll my eyes. He cannot for the life of him understand the attraction of my degree.
"I should get going soon, what's your schedule?" I carefully sip my coffee in case it's hot. It's not. Mmm there's even cream in it.
"Already?" he looks kind of disappointed. "I've got three tours today, and I think they're all in the afternoon."
I nod, "I really need to get back to do some reading." I tell him.
He shakes his head. "I don't know why you don't bring your books with you when you stay over."
"Are you kidding me? Did you see my Political Education textbook? It's like a small child!"
"Yeah yeah, whatever." He crosses his arms over his chest.
I smile at him sadly. "I'm going to miss you so much this summer."
His lips turn down. "Me too. I hate it when you studens bugger off for the holidays."
"I'm not looking forward to leaving, either.."I reply. "I don't know what I'm going to do for three months." Being away from Joe, away from studies, away from the tours...Having to live at home with my parents after almost a year of independence...
The truth is I know exactly what I'm going to do. I'll end up looking for Nick again. London is where he is. Where he said he would be. I'll spend long, heartbreaking days going on a wild-goose chase, looking for someone who doesn't want to be found.
To be honest, I don't know if I'm strong enough to endure the pain when I don't find him.
"You know, you don't have to go home..." Joe says thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?"
"You could stay here."
"Are you still banging on about me living with you?" I tease. "Just because you can't be arsed to advertise..."
"You wouldn't even have to pay rent," he continues.
"Of course I would pay rent!" I exclaim.
"Not for the summer. I wouldn't be getting rent from anyone else until September."
"My parents wouldn't be too impressed if I didn't go home..."
It's a tempting thought, though, considering how upset I still am with dad for letting Nick leave.
"Think about it," Joe says simply.
"Okay, I will."
A/N: Okay I'd like to start off with the fact that I got 20 reviews on the last chapter which is absolutely amazing! I'm still in shock to be honest and I couldn't be more happy. Thank you from the bottom of my heart you guys. To pay you back, I'm uploading (late I know) but the truth is a thunder hit near my house and we lost Wi-Fi so I'm uploading via my smartphone – so I'm sorry for all grammar mistakes or if the chapter is not looking right. Thirdly and lastly, can you guys do me a favor? Could you please follow me on instagram and like my pictures? That's be really sweet of you guys. My username is: lorena_1306