My, but Norbury-on-the-Water was a dull place.
I hadn't been expecting much from a place with three hyphens in its name, but good God. Sure, it had a nice stream, permitting one pub -- the Worm and Thorn -- to have an attractive waterwheel, and the streets were narrow and the stone houses old and prim, but there was far too little energy for me to feel entirely comfortable. Strange, that someone like me didn't feel right somewhere quiet -- you'd think it's exactly what I'd want. Norbury-on-the-Water didn't even have any interesting information boards. Its great claims to fame, so it seemed, amounted to Henry VIII having a hunting lodge nearby and what are now a tract of fields for dairy cows once hosting an American airbase during the war. London had ruined me -- I guess if you grow up surrounded by blue plaques you start to expect them everywhere.
As we walked past the local Anglican church, with its narrow steeple and three reserved parking spots for the reverend, I brought this up to Cherry, who had put on a jumper, so she wasn't completely hanging out in this peaceful country village. It seemed like a very odd place to host over a thousand young students -- how could the infrastructure possibly accommodate them all?
"It can't," she replied. "It's a bit like Aberystwyth -- people go there expecting a lot more than they get. There's a pretty high drop-out rate cause they soon realise they have to walk country lanes just to get milk."
"What do people do if they wanna go on a night out?" I asked. "I can't imagine there's many clubs round here."
"There's a Wetherspoons," she said, shrugging. "Otherwise, yeah, you get a return ticket to Croydon. I don't honestly know what they were thinking, making Crownbird a uni."
"Makes more money, I suppose."
"Almost definitely." A man, sat alone outside a tired looking pub, watched us go by. "You're not from London, though, are you?"
"No," I said, "I'm Scottish. Can't you tell?"
"It's more polite to ask than assume," Cherry replied, smiling sweetly.
"And you're half-Trinidadian?"
"Yeah; I go back every summer. The other half's Scouse -- not that you'd know from my accent."
"No, you sound normal."
"Is Scouse not normal?" Panic shot through me.
"No, I-" Cherry burst into laughter. The panic subsided -- mostly.
The Sainsbury's was not, as it turned out, in Norbury-on-the-Water at all. We had to cross an overpass spanning the busy A24 carriageway, finding the supermarket in a retail park on the opposite side next to Pets at Home and B&Q. For a while, with people of similar ages to us -- surely students -- passing in both directions, many lugging heavy shopping and not looking too pleased about it -- we stood leaning over the guardrails, the sky already turning dark towards the horizon, Cherry pretending to spit on the cars and lorries and occasional National Express coache which rumbled underneath.
"So..." I said, quietly, trying to rustle up conversation. "What's your favourite film?" Good one, Kelly.
"Uh, probably Superbad," she said. "You?"
"I don't actually know." Cherry gave me a funny look -- I would have, too. It was a long road to fixing my social dysfunction.
"I got fingered here, once," she suddenly sighed, contentedly. I looked at her.
"Was that... good?"
"Nope -- it was awful. He was rolling a joint while doing it." We laughed.
"I could see myself going mad living here," I sighed. "Especially once the summer comes and there's no students and it all shuts down again. Will probably have to move and commute. Free board's fun but it's probably not worth it."
"I'd recommend moving," agreed Cherry. "A lot of people ditch the student accommodation after first year and find lodgings in London, then get the train in each day. The uni gives them passes."
"How much money does Crownbird actually have?" I sighed.
"It's that Russian oligarch cash."
"Really?" Cherry gave me a wry look.
"Allegedly."
"Ah." Then, past Cherry, with a flash of fear I saw Lily coming our way, carrying a heavy and overstocked looking backpack. Our eyes met as she passed and, in the last moment before she went by, I thought I saw a smirk break across her face.
"You good?" Cherry was looking at me with some concern.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I said, quickly. "Just got a chill."
"Yeah, it's gonna get cold quickly tonight, apparently," she agreed. "Should head in -- especially if you've got a date to be at."
"It's not..." Cherry winked at me.
The Sainsbury's was practically crammed with people, all of them students, and the staff must have largely been drawn either from Crownbird or a nearby care home, such was the strange age disparities. It was like they had just become old enough to drink or were inching their way into the grave -- there was no between. I followed Cherry, who carried a basket which she swung in an unsafe looking manner, as she stocked up on necessities -- bread, milk, butter, wine, some more wine, and sanitary pads -- and thought back to my days of browsing the shelves at university, barely a penny to my name, and feeling a glowing excitement that, with my first payslip having come through, I could go a little bit nuts if I really wanted to. I half-considered getting a vacuum cleaner or a flatpack bedside table, but everything I saw was met with the rejoinder of "could probably get it cheaper online." No wonder the high street was dying -- even the supermarkets, which already killed it once before, couldn't really attract me.
My other thought of significance, as we went aisle by aisle and chattered, learning more about Cherry's archaeology degree (she had a working trip to Turkey lined up in the spring) and being shown the Slytherin tattoo on the back of her ankle, was how at ease she made me feel. There was a warmth which exuded from her that I hadn't felt in a long time -- I liked Kam, sure, but they had an edge to them, a more hyperactive energy, which required me to be switched on a lot more of the time. Plus, of course, they were an appalling flirt -- if that's what they meant to be. With Cherry, however, I could be half-asleep and still find a good time -- and that's usually impossible for me.
While Cherry perused the bakery, her basket already completely overburdened, I walked down the aisle all the way to the end, towards the tills, hoping to find my favourite bagel brand -- it was there. The world was safe. Then, as I turned to rejoin Cherry, I heard female voices from the next aisle.
"I'm gonna do it," one of them was saying.
