Then her mother had raised the subject.
They generally spoke on a Sunday morning after ‘The Archers’ omnibus, her mother ringing the public pay phone in the corridor. Maggie would sit on the floor beneath the handset waiting for it to ring and hoping that no other call came in in the interim.
‘Have you had a productive week?’ was always her mother’s predictable opening gambit, and Maggie would confirm that she had indeed, whether it was true or not. In her carefully curated weekly reports to her mother, she made sure that she never gave any cause for concern. Her mother was likely to panic if she thought anything was not the best it could possibly be, and it was preferable to let her think that. And actually, there was no cause for concern. Maggie’s life at university was progressing as she felt it should. She was getting good marks, and all was on track for her eventual step up to the next stage of her plan.
‘I was talking to Jenny,’ her mother said next.
Maggie’s heart sank. Whenever her mother spoke to the mothers of Maggie’s friends, she always came back with some life detail or other that Maggie was either lacking or failing in.
‘She said that Louise has found a house for next year already. You haven’t told me where you’ll be living in September,’ she said, her voice slightly petulant. ‘It was terribly awkward, Jenny knowing all the details about Louise and me knowing nothing. I just had to bluster and make things up. I think I got away with it. You have got somewhere to live, I assume. And with some nice people.’
She pressed the word ‘nice’ and Maggie understood exactly what her mother meant. ‘Nice’ meant suitable, from good, solid middle-class homes, preferably where the parents still occupied the same house, and who were studying ‘proper’ subjects like her. Maggie could count on the fingers of one hand the people that she knew in York who would fit her mother’s definition and she didn’t like most of them.
‘Oh yes,’ replied Maggie instantly. ‘It’s all organised.’
‘So, tell me,’ her mother insisted. ‘I don’t want to have to be caught on the hop again.’
Well, if you stopped gossiping about me and trying to show off how well I’m doing at every turn, then you wouldn’t get into awkward situations, thought Maggie.
‘There are just one or two details still to iron out,’ she replied vaguely, ‘but as soon as I know everything, I’ll let you know. I have to go now, Mum,’ she lied. ‘There’s a huge queue for the phone. I’ll tell you more next time. Thanks for ringing.’
Maggie put the phone down and looked up and down the empty corridor. This house business needed addressing. And soon.
She retrieved her ten pence pieces from the top of the phone and went to knock on Leon’s door.
‘Come in,’ came Leon’s familiar voice.
Maggie opened the door, bracing herself for the customary chaos. Leon was at his desk, poring over textbooks that were almost as thick as her law ones. His bedding was strewn in a heap that draped across the end of the bed and on to the floor. Maggie suppressed a shudder.
‘Morning,’ she said brightly.
When he saw who it was, Leon’s face lit up, or at least that was how Maggie interpreted his expression.
‘Have you got a minute?’ she asked, suddenly feeling a little shy about what she was about to ask him.
‘Of course!’ he replied enthusiastically. ‘Come in. Sit down.’ He waved his hand around the room as if indicating that she could pick her spot, but there was something far too intimate about sitting on his unmade bed, and no other option. She stayed standing.
Maggie hadn’t really given any thought to what she was going to say, coming as she had, directly from the conversation with her mother. She didn’t want to look desperate, but he might know of somewhere that would suit her. In the moment, she decided that it would be best to just come out with it.
‘I was just wondering where you’re going to live next year. We haven’t really talked about it, have we? It’s going to feel really strange, us not living opposite one another any more, but we’ll keep in touch, I hope.’ She tried not to sound too doubtful about this. She did really want to stay friends, although it might be hard if they ended up in different parts of York.
Leon slumped into his seat and blew his lips out. ‘It’s a bit of a nightmare,’ he said. ‘I think I missed the boat when everyone else was sorting theirs out. It all happened so early in the year and I couldn’t get my head round it. But then the people I know got themselves into little gangs and found places and I was left out. I reckon I’m just going to have to go back home and come in by train every day. The journey will be hell, but I’m not sure what else I can do now. It’s too late.’