The Love We Left Behind by Katherine Slee

Author:Katherine Slee [Slee, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Romance, General, Women
ISBN: 9781542027946
Google: WzENzgEACAAJ
Amazon: B08MZSFSMX
Published: 2021-08-14T23:00:00+00:00

NIAMH

Mamihlapinatapai (n.) – a look between two people that suggests an unspoken, shared desire

Oxford, 1996

Niamh had woken early that morning, peeling back the curtains to stare at a silver sky struggling towards spring. Leo was curled up next to her, one arm trapping her between him and the wall so that she was unable to move without disturbing him. The only problem was, she really needed to pee. A few minutes more and it was no good, so she wriggled out from underneath his arm, then scooted all the way to the end of the bed and on to the floor. She looked around in the half-light, picking up one of Leo’s hoodies and tiptoeing from the room.

As she descended a flight of stone steps down to the bathroom, she brought the cuff of the hoody up to her face and inhaled deeply. It smelt of him: not just his aftershave, but that unique scent everyone has. Which was why she had been borrowing something of his every morning when she left for the library, so that she might have him with her always. It was sickening, the fact she’d turned into one of those soppy, lovelorn creatures who would gaze out of the window whilst doodling hearts and flowers all over her notes. Only yesterday, when she was supposed to be reading up on the French Revolution, she found herself distracted by the idea of Leo riding through the countryside like some ridiculous hero from an Austen novel.

What had happened to her? She perched on the freezing loo seat and stared up at a mass of cobwebs overhead. There was no spider to be seen and it made her nervous, because they could be sneaky little buggers and she pulled the collar of the hoody a little tighter round her neck.

The morning air swirled around her legs as she washed her hands then climbed back up the stairs. At the top she paused, taking a moment to breathe in the quiet. There was no one else about; Saturday mornings were a precious chance for a lie-in, with no lectures or tutorials. It was only the hard-nosed rowers who made an appearance much before noon, when the quads would thrum to life, everyone making plans as to how the afternoon should be filled before piling into the beer cellar come opening time at six.

It made her think of her childhood, the one before she was moved across the country to live in a cul-de-sac with two well-meaning but distinctly aloof strangers. Back in the convent, they would be woken each morning at dawn, with prayers before breakfast and then a walk around the grounds or down to the beach. It was freezing in winter, not much warmer in summer, but those morning walks always managed to push aside the nightmares that found her every night.

Ever since, she had been a morning person. Years of the same routine set her body clock to always wake by six, no matter what time she went to sleep.

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