Page 17 of Love and Other Paradoxes

“So was it an academic thing, a sports cup—what?”

“It would’ve been something academic.” She fiddled with her braids. “She was so smart, so focused. I can’t see her caring that much about anything else.”

“So we’re looking for academic awards that get given out on the twenty-third of June. I can ask my Director of Studies,” he offered. “She knows about all that stuff.”

Esi nodded. He sensed a change in her bearing, as if a deep, thrumming tension had been released. He remembered what she’d said.I’ve been trying to stay out of people’s way.Until now, she’d been alone in this. “Okay,” she said decisively. “Now we need to figure out your next move with Diana. I’m guessing you haven’t seen her since...”

“Since our legendarily romantic first encounter?” She smirked. “No. But the good news is, I’ve got a reason to see her again. I got into this poetry workshop, and she’s the one performing my poem. Which means I’m going to meet her at the ADC Theatre on Friday.”

“Friday as in three days from now?” She looked him up and down, as if calculating how long it would take to transform him into someone Diana might find appealing. She sighed. “Let’s be clear about what I can offer. I can’t give you any inside information. I probably know less about you and Diana than anyone else on this trip. But I can help make sure the next time you see her, you don’t act like such a nozz.”

“Nozz?”

“You know what you did. Figure it out.” She hid her smile. “The good news is, Friday’s my day off. What time’s your poetry thing?”

“Five p.m.”

“Let’s meet a couple of hours before to talk it through. And get you some better clothes. What kind of budget are we working with?

A laugh escaped him. “Basically none?”

“That might be a problem. If you’re going to impress her, we need to go high-end.”

“What about charity shops? My friend Holly’s always talking about finding cheap designer stuff on Burleigh Street.”

Esi looked sceptical. “Guess we can give it a try. In the meantime, we should stay in touch. Do you have a phone?”

“Do I have a phone,” he scoffed, taking it out. “Come on. It’s 2005.” Like all his phones, it was a hand-me-down from Kirsty, but she had got bored of it faster than usual, so it was surprisingly up-to-the-minute: a Motorola flip model with an etched keypadand a second screen on the outside. He was quite proud of it. Esi’s was a chunky, old-fashioned Nokia, the kind he used to have in high school. “Wow,” he said. “Vintage.”

She looked at her phone, then at his. “I literally can’t see the difference.”

“Mine has a colour screen,” he protested.

“Wow. Are you sure it’s not you who’s from the future?”

They exchanged numbers, Esi grumbling about the stupidity of devices with physical buttons, and left the café. At the corner of Bene’t Street, she turned left. “See you Friday.”

“See you.” Something occurred to him. “Wait. What about the time travellers? Won’t the tour guide freak out if she sees us together?”

“She won’t. Burleigh Street’s outside her range. 0.5-mile radius, remember?”

He shook his head, smiling. “For someone who doesn’t respect the terms and conditions, you certainly have them memorised.”

She hissed, drawing back into the shelter of the cash machine. “Not well enough. Looks like I overshot lunch break.”

He peered round the corner. The woman in the tabard was waiting outside the entrance of college, looking as bored as usual.

“That’s Vera,” said Esi. “The tour guide.”

“Vera?”He did a double take. “All the Veras I know are over a hundred.”

“Guess that means it’s due for a comeback.” Behind Vera, a girl in a cropped Fair Isle jumper and a boy in wide, flapping trousers were anxiously watching the gate. Esi shook her head. “I’ll leave you to your fans. Bye, Joseph Greene.”

The formality of his full name made him laugh. “Bye.”

As she sidled away up Bene’t Street, he went on towards college.He tried to compose his face into a poetic expression, but he was so conscious of the time travellers staring that it made him forget how to walk. He tripped, catching himself on the steps. Cheeks burning, he scrambled up and hurried through the gate. So much for living up to his own legend.

He checked his pigeonhole, finding a green feather, a paperweight in the shape of a cat, and a scribbled note that saidLOVE. Before, he would have binned them or left them in the blank pigeonhole of a student who’d dropped out, but now, they were precious mementos of his future. He pocketed them and headed up the staircase, past a man running down with a plastic sword and a look of bitter disappointment. Joe entered the living room to find Rob posing for a picture, a Highland cow in one hand and a London bus in the other.

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