The First Date

by Zara Stoneley

‘Go away, it’s taken!’ Who on earth has had the gall to invade my parents’ en-suite?

  I close my eyes and put a finger to my bruised lips. Whatever Dad thinks, I can’t regret what just happened though.

  I’m never going to be the same again. Obviously, my mouth will recover, but how do I go back from this? A kiss that was close to orgasmic.

  And I still had all my clothes on.

  It’s worse than that though, much worse. It was the moment before, those minutes before he kissed me. When we could have been the only two people that existed. When there was this frisson of anticipation between us and I’d felt closer to him than I ever have to anybody else in my life.

  I hug my arms around myself.

  ‘I know you’re in there, Rosie, open this fucking door before I kick it down.’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t do that.’ I open the door with a sigh. ‘Hi, Bea.’

  ‘Hi back at you, Rosie girl.’ She grins. ‘I didn’t think you could move that fast.’

  ‘Nor did I,’ I say glumly.

  ‘You two were getting cosy!’ She raises an eyebrow.

  ‘Don’t! Oh Bea …’

  ‘Is that an “oh Bea, what a lovely kiss I’ve had”?’ she says in an airy tone, totally interrupting my revelation that my absent parent has reappeared, ‘or an “oh Bea I think I’m falling for him”?’ Her voice has dropped to a sultry growl and she’s clutching her chest with her hand.

  ‘Sod off.’ I am trying not to grin, it’s not working.

  ‘Haha! I knew it!’

  I close my eyes. Noah’s ‘am I right’ sayings from that very first evening are loud in my ears.

  ‘You’ve got it bad, girl. I prescribe a light buffet and several of your mum’s toxic cocktails. Come on.’ She holds out a hand. ‘This is for your mum, not you. We’ll scrape you back together again later.’

  I sigh and let her haul me to my feet. She’s right. I do need to get my act together for my mum’s sake. Dad has done his normal trick of sneaking in round the back so that he can pretend he arrived on time. Hell, she probably doesn’t even know he’s here! ‘You’ll be fine, girl. At least you know what a proper snog is supposed to feel like now, instead of a snuffly sloppy one.’

  ‘Robbie was not snuffly!’

  ‘Well, he wasn’t like that, was he?’ She raises a knowing eyebrow. I glow red hot and decide it is safer not to object further.

  ‘I think I’ve OD’d.’ I sigh. ‘It was incredible.’ And Dad managed to spoil it.

  ‘And now you’re just trying to make me jealous. Come on, your mother was asking where you’d got to.’

  I groan and pull my big girls pants up, metaphorically. In reality I’m wearing indecently skimpy lace things that couldn’t contain a big girl if they tried.

  Maybe if I go back to waist high M&S specials my life, and emotions, will revert to normal.

  ‘And Noah was a bit concerned, said he was worried you’d got cystitis.’

  Oh God, I will never revert to normal. ‘He didn’t!’

  ‘Maybe not, he was looking a bit lost and confused though. Not himself at all.’

  ‘Bea.’ I put a staying hand on her arm, just as she heads for the stairs. ‘It’s not just Noah.’

  Maybe if Dad was that disgusted with me, he will have just barged out, back to his latest girlfriend. Nobody else will ever know he was here. Except me. That look will be branded on my brain forever.

  ‘What? Rosie, what is it? You look a bit … you don’t feel sick, do you? Shall we go back …’

  ‘I do feel sick, and I would like to go back in the bathroom.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Dad’s here.’

  ‘Your dad? Fuck me? Where?’

  ‘I don’t know! He was watching me, watching me …’ I can hardly breathe let alone speak, I think I might be hyperventilating. ‘Snog Noah!’ There, I’ve said it. I feel slightly better now it’s out in the open. ‘I’ve got to warn Mum. I don’t think she knows.’

  ‘I think she might.’ Bea’s voice is soft. We’re halfway down the stairs and we stop, and I follow her gaze.

  Dad is holding court, centre stage with a large group of their friends around him. And Mum is standing quietly on the side-lines watching. Like she always does. A glass of champagne in her hand.

  ‘Oh look, cocktails!’ Bea grabs us both one, then slips her hand through my arm. Solidarity.

  And then Dad spots us, and I just know he’s going to head me off and try and spoil my magical moment with Noah. He will douse it with disappointment and ruin it forever.

  ‘Bea, I need to …’

  ‘Here.’ She is already steering me away from my parents. ‘You need time to get your shit together before you talk to him.’

  Chapter 24

  Noah hasn’t let his concern for me spoil the party. He’s propping up the makeshift bar, talking to Laurie.

  Laurie is the doctor’s daughter. She is five years younger than me, one foot taller and ten times more confident. She is also thinner. And never looks like she’s fallen asleep on her plate.

  Natural she’s not. Coquettish she is. Now there’s a word I never thought I’d use.

  He’s flirting: the casual hand movements, the leaning in, the grin, the way he tips his head on one side to listen properly. Oh yes, Noah has taught me well. I know the signs.

  I can’t criticise him, he’s doing what comes as naturally as breathing to him. Charming the opposite sex – just like Dad has always done.

  There’s a twinge in my chest. It aches, a physical hurt that makes my throat constrict. I’ve fallen for him. I know I have. Bea was nearly one hundred per cent correct, but not quite. I’m not falling for Noah Adams, I’ve already fallen for him. Hook, line and sinker.

  Soon I’ll be in too deep, which means I’ve got to stop this right now. I’ve got to do what my mother didn’t. Turn away from the charm. Walk away. Not be like her.

  I never want to be the girl who gets stood up on her wedding anniversary: getting stood up on a first date was bad enough.

  Let’s face it, this is a man who doesn’t even believe in love. He’s not just a commitment-phobe, he genuinely believes it ruins lives.

  The moment he spots me though he turns away from her and I can almost see him brace – ready for impact. Then he smiles tentatively. Bea nudges me, hard, with her elbow.

  Oh heck, the man is heading my way. We’re on a collision course.

  ‘If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed.’ He twinkles at me.

  ‘Are you calling me a mountain?’ Keep this light, Rosie.

  The twinkle fades. ‘Have I done something?’

  Kissed me. Touched me. Done everything that some tiny part inside me wanted you to, but the sensible on the outside couldn’t cope with.

  Yes, Noah, you have done something. It was amazing.

  ‘No.’ I smile.

  ‘That’s not a real Rosie smile! Come on, you’re avoiding me, which is a pretty awesome accomplishment in a back garden.’ He tries a grin again. But we both know it’s strained. ‘Why did you run?’ His tone has softened. I love the way he does that, the way he can make me feel like I’m important.

  ‘I saw Dad.’

  He frowns.

  ‘He was watching us and …’

  ‘And?’

  I swallow down the lump in my throat. Try and work out how to explain.

  ‘And who do we have here?’ The loud voice booms out behind me – so that everybody can hear, and a fair number turn and glance our way.

  I wish the ground would open up and swallow me.

  ‘Dad, this is, er my friend, Noah, Noah this is my father.’

  ‘Friend?’ He laughs, but it’s not a nice laugh. ‘At least this one has got something about him, I suppose.’ Then he looks me over. ‘Well Ro, I see you took my advice and finally decided to try and make something of yourself, change your hair.’

  ‘I did it for me.’

  He smiles. ‘And have you managed to find a job that’s a bit more interest
ing?’

  ‘I like my job, Dad.’

  ‘Hmm well, we’ll talk about that later. And your, er, man.’ He gives Noah a final once-over and marches away before either of us can say anything.

  I feel exhausted. Worn out. Drained. I want to cry.

  Noah is looking at me. ‘How can you let him talk to you like that?’

  ‘He’s my dad!’

  ‘And you’re an adult, Rosie! He’s got no right to slag you off, you deserve better, and so does your mother. He’s just got another woman pregnant, and he’s having a go at you for kissing me?’ There’s a note of incredulity in his voice. ‘Come on, Rosie, you can’t let him run your life like this.’

  I know he’s right. He is. And I’m angry at Dad, and I’m angry at me for letting him affect me the way he does, and now I’m angry at Noah. Because. Well because he’s here to be angry at. And I’m not quite ready to be shouted at about not letting myself be shouted at (even though, to be fair, he’s not really shouting). And I still feel so bad about Dad catching me behaving like a sex mad teenager. And still, and this is what I know deep down it really is, I’m scared. I’m scared that I got so carried away with Noah, that I enjoyed so much, that I want so, so much more.

  And I can’t.

  He might not be as bad as Dad, but he doesn’t want to settle down. He doesn’t want to fall in love. He hates the whole idea of love.

  I feel so sad now I want to cry.

  The gorgeous Noah just wants fun.

  Noah doesn’t want somebody like me. He’s kind, and he’s nice, and he’s gorgeous, and he’s everything I didn’t want but have just found out I’d like to try.

  But he’ll never be mine.

  ‘Noah.’

  ‘Oh God, don’t you hate every sentence that begins with your name?’

  ‘Look, I wasn’t avoiding you before. I just ran, cos I saw Dad, and … Why don’t you just, just,’ I don’t want to say this, but I have to, ‘go back and talk to Laurie? You looked pretty taken by her.’

  ‘Unfair! Hang on, you’re cross with me because I was talking to, to …’

  ‘Laurie, the one with the hair extensions, implants and peroxide. Be yourself, be natural you said, haha!’ Hot tears are stinging at my eyes, but I crash on saying all the wrong, unfair things. I know I’m pushing him away. I have to. I can’t change Dad, I can’t change the way he sees me, but I can make sure my own life is okay. The way I want it.

  ‘Rosie, I said be natural because that’s how I like you! As you. I’m not interested in her, or anybody else, we were just chatting.’

  ‘Fine. Anyway I wasn’t avoiding you, you didn’t exactly come looking for me, did you?’

  He blinks. I’m being horrible. I know it, he knows it.

  He didn’t come though. It was Bea, my friend, who came to see where I was. To check I was okay.

  ‘It was Bea,’ his voice is low, ‘who told me to stay put; she knew where you’d be!’

  ‘I’ll miss the way you do that.’

  ‘What?’ He frowns. Even his frowns are cute.

  ‘Read my mind.’ And I’ll miss lots of other things as well. The confidence boost, the grins, the banter. The kisses.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry but I think we’ve gone off-piste a bit. This isn’t what it’s supposed to be.’ I avoid his gaze. It’s too hard to look at him.

  ‘It was one kiss, Rosie. I’m sorry, look, I thought you wanted …’ He runs his hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry, I was a jerk, I misread.’

  ‘I can’t do this anymore. I don’t even want to date right now. At all. Nobody.’ I do look him in the eye then. ‘I can’t do this, I don’t want to!’

  I’m fizzing with anger.

  ‘And you can’t talk about my dad like that.’ My voice is shaky.

  I’m so angry. Angry at Dad for turning up late, angry at Dad for being such a two-timing cheat who couldn’t change his ways, angry he’s flirted his way all through his adult life and my parents’ time together, angry for all the times he promised her things would get better then went right out and repeated his performance (clearly as a musician he works to the mantra that practice makes perfect), angry that the only times he was home with us was when it suited him.

  Angry that I’ve only just admitted all of this to myself.

  Angry that I’m taking it out on Noah who hasn’t done anything wrong, apart from be himself. The totally unsuitable man I fell for.

  ‘This is about your dad, isn’t it?’

  ‘Of course, it is!’ I want to cry, but I must not. Mum isn’t howling in a corner. She’s putting a brave face on. A mask. I can do masks.

  ‘Your dad is nothing to do with me, with us.’

  ‘But he is!’ Despite everything I can’t separate the two. I can’t let myself believe, trust, that this could be worth the risk.

  ‘I am not your father, Rosie!’ His eyes are glinting. ‘I have never, ever given you reason to doubt me, not to trust me! That, that,’ he waves towards the bar where he’d been standing with Laurie, ‘was called being friendly. I have never, ever even looked at anybody else while I’ve been with you, have I?’

  I can’t look him in the eye. Instead I bite my lip. ‘But we’re not an us, are we, Noah? You don’t believe in love. I don’t believe in taking chances. I think I’ve learned all I can from you. I think I’ve just learned my last lesson. Thank you.’ I end on a whisper. I’ve run out of steam.

  ‘You’re being serious? You’re really pushing me away; you’re sending me home like some naughty schoolboy who’s overstepped the mark?’

  ‘We both have.’ It comes out all croaky and small.

  ‘Fine.’ The word is forced, stiff. ‘But,’ his eyes are narrowed, hard, ‘don’t you dare pretend you didn’t want that kiss as much as I did.’

  I stare at him blankly.

  I can’t deny it. I don’t need to though. He’s taken a step back, he’s already on his way, marching out of my life as fast as he came into it.

  Shit. Why did I do that?

  Because of Dad. How could Dad turn up late, how could he have a go at me for just kissing a man, how could he impregnate a bloody cellist? I don’t have any answers to those questions. But I do know that I can’t kiss Noah again.

  And I really don’t want to watch him dating anybody else.

  It might damage my battered heart irreparably.

  ‘Listen up everybody!’ My dad’s voice is booming out. I turn around miserably to look at him. All happy and preening, centre stage. ‘As you all know we’ve asked you here to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Come on, come on, darling. Join me. Who would have thought this lovely woman would still be putting up with me after so many years?’

  I blink back the tears as my mother makes her way over to him. She looks so elegant, so beautiful. So poised. I don’t feel poised at all.

  A solitary tear plops gently on to my cheek, but I try to smile as she glances my way, meets my eye and winks.

  I wipe the tear off with the back of my hand and try and smile brightly back.

  He drapes a possessive arm over her shoulder.

  How did I never notice that my dad is looking a bit, well, fake these days? His hair is too dark, the wrinkles that should fan out from his eyes and mouth are practically non-existent, his clothes are just that bit too trendy. He’s trying that bit too hard. The handsome charming man hasn’t faded, he’s been remade. It’s wrong. Far more wrong than what he’s accused me of. All I’ve done is tried to be more me. Dad has tried to be somebody else.

  ‘Now the question is, will she still be at my side after another thirty years?’

  ‘No.’ My mother’s voice rings out, clear and bright. ‘No, she won’t.’ The room was fairly quiet before, now there is a deadly silence, then a few nervous titters. ‘In fact, she won’t be at your side for another thirty minutes. Victor, darling, consider this advance warning of divorce papers being served.’ She takes one step away from him. ‘Now everybody, plenty more champagne at the bar – gra
b it while you can, I might be penniless this time next week! He’s all yours, Serena!’ She raises her glass in Serena’s direction. ‘Oh, and Dinah! And Bella, oh and I mustn’t forget Julia, and Elizabeth, oh dear I think I’m going to have to put a list up!’ She grins, and it is genuine. Mum looks more relaxed than she has in ages. ‘Cheers girls!’ And with that she strides through the crowd, who part but lean in to kiss her cheek and pat her on the back. I’m sure I hear a few muffled ‘bravos’, it’s all frightfully civilised.

  I don’t feel civilised at all.

  I watch her go, and my gaze is drawn to a solitary man. Noah. He looks back for a second. A steady stare. No smile, no raised glass, no wink.

  And then he turns and walks away.

  ‘Oh dear, has Noah gone already?’ Mum slips her arms through mine as I watch him cross the lawn and go out through the side gate. Not even glancing back.

  ‘He had to er, go somewhere,’ I say lamely. Not wanting to actually lie to my mum, but not wanting to explain either. ‘Are you okay, Mum?’

  ‘Well surprisingly enough, I am, darling. Here, you look like you need a hug.’

  We have a hug. It makes me want to cry again. The only person I’ve ever met who gives me a better hug than Mum is Noah.

  ‘What a bastard!’

  ‘Noah?’ I say, startled.

  ‘Noah? He seemed rather nice to me!’ She laughs. ‘Your father. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t even turned up so that I could tell him I’m leaving. I thought I was going to have to WhatsApp him, which seems so impersonal. So, it was brilliant when he did turn up! And trust your father, he gave me the perfect opportunity to get my own back and show him up like he’s always shown me up!’

  I think my jaw has dropped.

  ‘I think what she’s saying is he’s a bit of a shit.’ Bea has her chin resting on my shoulder, then sidles in so that she’s standing in between us.

  ‘Bea!’ Mum says rather loudly, shocked. Then she looks at me. A hint of a smile curling her generous mouth. I smile back, she grins, and then she tips her head back and laughs. ‘Oh, you are a lovely girl!’ She gives her an impromptu cuddle. ‘Bea’s right! That is just what I am trying to say.’

  My mum just called my dad a shit. And she’s smiling, triumphantly if I’m honest. ‘Did you really mean it then, you’re leaving him?’ Is this why she’s been glowing, looking brighter and happier? Had she already got all this worked out?