Page 37 of Hannah.
Logic wrestles with the irrational. I step into the corridor, expecting to see someone, but it's just me, alone with the quiet hum of the department. The elusive and ghostly footsteps are gone, leaving just me, the adrenaline rush leaving my body and my racing pulse.
Who the hell could it have been?
13
Hannah
It’san early day for me; stepping out into the rare sunlit morning, I have to squint to see anything. Shifting my backpack to my other shoulder, I hold a hand to my face to shield my eyes and look around, wondering what else to do with my day.
The question is quickly answered when a familiar silhouette approaches through the sea of students heading back to their dorms. It’s Conrad, his hands tucked into his cardigan and a lopsided smile.
“Fancy meeting you here!” he exclaims, and I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, it’s totally a coincidence that you’re here outside the fresher English classrooms, not because you were seeking me out or anything,” I smirk, a little flattered that he’d have gone out of his way to see me. Astrid or Johan must have leaked my schedule to him.
He narrows his eyes, looking me over. “So are you actually annoyed or…?”
“No, of course not,” I say with a laugh, waving away his worries. “It’s my early day, anyway.”
Conrad's eyes light up with enthusiasm, his dark, unruly hair dancing with the wind. “So you’re free? How about a punt tour? It’s a quintessential Cambridge experience, and trust me, you’re in for a treat.”
I tilt my head, intrigued. “Punt tour? I’ve heard of it, but I’m unsure what it entails.”
Conrad’s grin widens, and he motions toward the riverbank. “Picture this: a flat-bottomed boat, a punt, gliding through the serene river. You sit back, relax, and let the scenery of Cambridge unfold around you.”
I follow his gaze to the punts, the sun dappling the water's surface. “Sounds delightful. Is it like a guided tour?”
Conrad nods, his hands gesturing like a conductor orchestrating the description. “Exactly! You have a punter, the expert guide, propelling the boat with a long pole, and they share fascinating stories about the historic landmarks, colleges, and bridges along the river.”
I find myself drawn into his animated explanation, his excitement contagious. “Sounds great.”
“It does,” Conrad nods, pleased with my understanding. “You get to soak in the beauty of Cambridge from a unique vantage point. It’s a tranquil escape from the hustle and bustle. And I haven’t even mentioned the best part….”
“Which is?”
Conrad leans in like he’s sharing a secret. “You get to experience it all withme.”
"Oh, I should have guessed.” I can’t help but laugh at the unexpected joke. “But in all seriousness, it sounds lovely.”
Exploring Cambridge's charm from the tranquility of a punt feels like a welcome distraction, a respite from all the classes, and my constant, annoying preoccupation with Johan, the man who is forever out of my reach.
After stashing my backpack at my dorm, we head to a punting company where Conrad insists on paying for both of us. He’s such a good sport that I almost forget the edge of annoyance I felt after leaving Astrid’s. Conrad doesn’t deserve my disdain simply for being interested in me while alsonotbeing Johan, the only person whose interest I want. I decide to be easy on him for the afternoon, accepting his company rather than using it as a barrier.
As we approach the punt, Conrad extends a hand towards me, his grip firm and reassuring. “Watch your step,” he says, guiding me onto the narrow wooden platform. The punt rocks slightly under our combined weight, and I clutch his hand a bit tighter for balance.
He helps me settle onto one of the cushioned seats in the middle of the punt, ensuring I’m comfortable before letting go. “There you go,” he says with a smile, his eyes briefly meeting mine.
“Thanks,” I reply, feeling a mix of excitement and tranquility as I look around at the serene Cambridge scenery. The river is calm, and the leafy branches of the willow trees dip gracefully into the water, creating a picturesque setting.
Conrad then steps into the punt after me, taking the long pole in his hands as he moves to stand at the front, facing me. He plants the pole firmly into the riverbed and, with a practiced motion, pushes off, and we start to glide smoothly across the water. The sound of the pole slicing through the river and the gentle lapping of water against the wooden sides adds to the peaceful atmosphere.
I let out a sigh of contentment, watching the majestic buildings of Cambridge pass by, their reflections dancing on the water’s surface. “This is perfect,” I murmur, more to myself than to Conrad, but he hears me and smiles.
“Glad you’re enjoying it,” he says, his voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the river. He looks relaxed, his movements confident and fluid as he navigates us through the gentle currents. The sun casts a warm glow on everything, making the experience feel almost magical.
“So, how's life in Cambridge treating you, Hannah?”
I offer a small smile. “It has its moments, but it’s nice for the most part. How about you?”