‘Just talk to me,’ she said as she settled herself down next to Angie, signalling her intention not to leave. ‘It’ll feel better if you let it go, and I might even be able to help.’
As she said the words, Maggie thought about how ludicrous they sounded. What did she have to offer Angie? Angie was super-cool, and she was, well, she had to admit it, a bit of a square by comparison. She stiffened a little as she waited for Angie’s rebuff but instead, Angie moved across and launched herself at her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Maggie’s automatic reaction was to tense at this unexpected contact, but then she relaxed into it, put her arms around Angie and squeezed her back gently. She could feel Angie beginning to sob again, and she found herself leaning into their embrace still further.
‘It’s all so shit,’ said Angie, her voice muffled by Maggie’s shoulder.
‘What is?’ asked Maggie.
‘Everything.’
Maggie wasn’t sure where to go from there, so she just held her, waiting until Angie had regained her composure, and then released her.
Angie sat back. ‘Sorry,’ she said, without looking up.
‘There’s no need to apologise,’ said Maggie. ‘I’m just worried about you, that’s all. What’s so shit?’
Angie sniffed and wiped her nose with the heel of her hand. ‘Everything.’
They were going round in circles and Maggie tried not to become irritated with the illogicality of it all, but then Angie seemed to realise the same.
‘I mean, I’m here. University is supposed to be the best time of your life, but I feel like it’s all happening somewhere else to someone else, do you know what I mean?’
Maggie nodded. She did know. In fact, she knew precisely how that felt.
‘And I have no idea what I want to do when I’ve finished my degree. Tiger says I should travel like him, but that’s not for me. I don’t want to spend my whole life running away. I like England. I want a base. I want to get a job and a flat and settle down. He says that that’s selling out and that I’m just buying into the corporate dream, but I don’t think it is. I don’t want a corporate job, but I do want a job. I just have no idea what kind.’
And with that the tears started to fall again.
Maggie was at a loss to know what to say. This wasn’t something that had ever worried her. She had been steadily working towards her plan to be a solicitor for as long as she could remember and at no point had she ever doubted that she would pull it off, or that it wouldn’t be exactly what she hoped for when she finally got there. She could see, though, that not having such a clear path to follow might be unsettling.
Then again, this was Angie! Angie, who seemed to float through life with no plan, borrowing or taking what she needed and without giving a damn about any of the things that felt important to Maggie. That was hard to get her head around.
‘I really don’t think you should worry, Angie,’ she said now, in a tone that she hoped didn’t sound dismissive or superior. ‘We’re only halfway through uni, there’s plenty of time for deciding what you want to do next. Just ignore Tiger. What does he know, anyway? His lifestyle is totally unsustainable. Sooner or later, he’s going to want to stop travelling and settle down and he’ll have no education and next to no prospects. You’re smart and articulate and pretty and you’ll be able to get whatever job you decide you want to do, I’m certain of it. If I were you, I’d stop fretting about the future and just concentrate on getting the best degree that you can.’
This was a lie. If Maggie really were Angie, she would be worried to death. But then again, Maggie would never have come so far without a plan.
Angie blew her nose messily and threw the snotty loo roll on the carpet. Maggie tried not to flinch.
‘You’re probably right,’ she said.
There was a pause, and Maggie wondered whether she should leave Angie to it, duty discharged, but then Angie spoke again.
‘You have no idea how much I envy you,’ she said, staring directly into Maggie’s eyes in a way that made Maggie want to drop her gaze. ‘You know exactly who you are and where you want to go. It’s impressive. And rare. I think you’re the only person I know who’s that certain about things.’
Maggie knew how rare it was, but she tried to look modest rather than proud.
‘And I’m not trying to do the whole “woe is me” thing,’ Angie continued, ‘but when you get a start like I had, it’s hard enough to plan what you’re going to have for lunch, let alone the rest of your life.’