Page 59 of The Best Ex of My Life

‘Let’s get going then, shall we? I’ve a brilliant audiobook I thought we could listen to on the way down. I take it we’re all fans of Jeffrey Archer?’ Len asks when he’s behind the wheel, ready to go.

I never thought I’d be grateful to a middle-aged ex-politician with a penchant for writing masculine thrillers, but by the time we pull up in front of In Fair Verona, the guest house Len chose – presumably on name alone – I’m tempted to leave Jeffrey a five-starred Goodreads review as a thank you for giving me a three and a half hour trip where Elliot and I didn’t need to make small talk with Len or each other once.

‘This is perfect, Len,’ Elliot says when we get out of the car and stand on the pavement assessing the stone front of the guest house with net curtains in the upstairs windows and a clear view of the rest of the English department drinking wine and loafing on couches through the large bay window on the ground floor.

‘Glad you like it,’ Len says. ‘Come on, son, you’re sharing with me.’

Len leads off and Elliot follows, turning back to me with a pretend-terrified expression on his face.

I giggle. Poor Elliot. Len is famous on these trips for three things. His tour-guide style commentary when walking around the town, his generosity when it comes to buying drinks and his incredibly loud snoring. We get checked in, and Len and Elliot head straight up the stairs to their joint room while I turn into the lounge area I saw from outside and join Katie and Alice on the sofa.

‘What the hell is going on? Why is Elliot here?’ Alice, the newest teacher in our department, asks, looking alarmed.

‘Oh no, don’t you like him?’ I ask.

‘Of course I do,’ she tells me. ‘He’s lovely, but he’s also incredibly fit if you hadn’t noticed, and fit men make me nervous.’

‘So fit,’ Katie agrees. ‘If I wasn’t married, this weekend would be taking a dramatic turn.’

‘Yeah. Damn my husband, too,’ Alice laments.

Having two people confirm how fit Elliot is and how much they’d like to have sex with him isn’t exactly what I need to be hearing right now. ‘Sorry guys, he has a girlfriend, and she’s amazing,’ I say as much to myself as to them.

‘Lucky cow,’ Alice says. ‘Shit, here he comes.’

The three of us turn round to watch Elliot coming down the stairs at speed.

‘You didn’t mess around getting settled in,’ I say.

‘No, erm, Len needed to use the facilities, and I thought it better if I made myself scarce.’

‘Poor you,’ Katie says, leaning forward and reaching over when Elliot squeezes on the sofa next to me so she can pat his knee. ‘If you need a little break from him this weekend, my door is always open.’

I wonder how many gins Katie and Alice had on the train.

By the time we’re all settled in and unpacked, and Len has taken a power nap to recover from the drive, it’s gone two and we’re behind Len’s schedule. We’re booked in to look round Shakespeare’s birthplace at three, and the planned leisurely potter through the town centre with a stop at a tea shop is reduced to a hurried dart past the River Avon and a power walk down pretty streets lined with quaint Tudor buildings, some looking so old they might tumble into the road at any moment. We’re ordered straight past the many inviting tearooms with cream and jam-filled scones in their display cabinets, not slowing down until we reach Henley Street and are outside the exceptionally well-maintained Tudor façade of Shakespeare’s house. At least it’s a pleasant day. The April air is warm with the promise of warmer weather to come, and the sun is high and bright in the sky. This will be the third time I’ve been to Shakespeare’s house, and although I find it fascinating to step back into history and imagine him as a real person, the rooms are small and dark. After being stuck in the car for so long, I have a craving for fresh air and exercise.

I bide my time until we’ve queued up and are near the entrance.

‘I might skip the tour this year, if you don’t mind,’ I say when Len has already produced his ticket to the attendant.

‘Why would you want to do that?’ Len says, genuinely surprised.

‘Sorry, I’ve a bit of a headache. I’ll take a walk to try and shift it and meet you back at the guest house.’

‘Fine,’ Len says. ‘But don’t forget we’re eating early.’

‘I might do the same,’ a voice says from behind me.

‘Never,’ Len says. If he was shocked at my choice not to go in, he’s astounded at Elliot’s decision.

‘Sorry, Len. You can tell me all about it over dinner.’

After a few wide strides, he’s caught up with me. I turn round to see Len shaking his head at us both before ushering the rest of the department in before anyone else can change their minds.

‘You didn’t need to do that.’

‘I know, but I haven’t spoken to you all day, and I’d rather hang around with you for a bit than poke around some dead dude’s house.’