Swimming Upstream Read Online Free PDF Page A

poster of Jimmi Hendrix. The room smelled
vaguely of old cigarette butts.
    “Is this your room?” I asked.
    Larsen nodded.
    I sat up uncomfortably. “What's your girlfriend
going to say if she comes up and finds me in here?”
    “My girlfriend? What are you talking about?”
Larsen frowned and my heart leaped. “Ah, you mean Jude?” He laughed. “You
didn't think..? Jude's not my girlfriend. She lives here, that's all. She
shares the room downstairs with Bri.”
    “Bri,” I echoed, and lay back down again.
    “Brian. Her boyfriend. They're both artists -
those are their paintings downstairs, his and hers. Only he's not here; he's at
a lock-in in the Jugglers Arms, which is why she's pissed off. She's okay,
though. She's gone round Marion's.”
    “Marion?” I added the name to my mental register.
    “Doug's girlfriend. Her and Jude are best buddies.”
    I was confused. “But -”
    “Marion doesn't like parties,” said Larsen. He
shifted on the mattress beside me. “Now enough about Jude and Marion. Let's
talk about something more interesting, like - you and me.”
    I looked up into his
eyes and he looked back into mine. He was so beautiful. He was the most
handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. But more than that, there was something
familiar about him. It was as if I knew him, already.
    Larsen lit two cigarettes and passed me one.
    “So why did you drop out of College?” I asked him.
    “Failed my exams. Like I said.”
    “You didn’t think of re-sits?”
    “Nah.” Larsen shrugged. “What’s the point? That’s
just going backwards. I believe in going forwards.”
    “No U-turns,” I smiled.
    “Precisely.” Larsen smiled back and kissed me on
the cheek. I felt a shiver of excitement running up my back.   He took a puff
of his cigarette. “Besides, that was the old man’s dream for me, not mine. Get
a degree. Become a teacher.”
    “A teacher?”
    “Yeah. They’re both teachers. Academics. They both
lecture at the University.”
     “And that wasn’t for you?”
    “No. My dream was always to play music.”
    “Let me guess. They don’t approve?”
    “My dad thinks I’m wasting my time.”
    “And your mum?”
    “She doesn’t even acknowledge that this is what I
do. Her eyes glaze over if I mention music. Unless it’s Mahler. Or Mozart. Or
Mendelssohn. She’s German,” he added. “She’s fluent in five languages. But she
pretends not to understand if you say anything she doesn’t want to hear.”
    “Do all her composers have to begin with “M”? I
smiled.
    Larsen grinned. “Something like that.”
    “So you’re a closet academic. And middle class to
boot,” I teased.
    “Like I said, it’s how you feel, not the family
you were born to.” Larsen sounded defensive, and I regretted what I’d said.
    “It’s a shame about your degree, though,” I said. “A
degree can get you a long way.”
    “I thought you were packing it in?” Larsen
challenged me.
    “Well, I didn’t say that. I mean, it’s early days.
I don’t think it’s come to that yet.”
    “Your call,” said Larsen, and shrugged. I sensed
he wanted to hear me say that I was leaving college, and I wondered why he
cared. I was strangely and secretly glad that he did.
    I looked up at him. “Karen said you had just
broken up with someone.”
    “Karen told you that?”
    I nodded.
    “Yeah. I have. It’s been dead in the water for a
long time now though.”
    “How long were you with her?”
     “A few years. Five, maybe.”
    “That’s a long time.” I paused, and then asked, “Is
there any chance of you getting back together?”
     Larsen looked at me as if I were mad. “I told
you. I never go back, to anything,” he said. “Once it's over, it's over.”
    There was an awkward silence.
    “It doesn't matter,” I said, uncertainly. “I’m
sorry I asked.”
    “Time for another drink,” he said, and he jumped
up and headed out of the room.
    I could hear people milling around on the landing,
and someone