by Laura Tait
The thought causes a flashback. The night I gave Holly and Ellie a lift home at 2 a.m. Ellie had been sick and Holly was smitten with Dean Jones. I try to sweep the memory from my mind. I’ve spent the last week doing everything I can to not think about Holly and I don’t want to ruin Kev’s night by turning all sombre.
‘My dad reckons he’ll be here about nine thirty,’ I say to sidetrack myself. ‘Once his meeting has finished.’
Kev shakes his head, grinning. ‘I can’t believe he’s set up a rebel barge club.’
‘He’s got three converts already. They’re meeting in The Lion.’
We laugh to ourselves, strolling from room to room, taking it all in, and I realize that not everything is the same as when we were teenagers. Someone producing a tray of shots back then would have been received as a hero, but here they’re swathed in a groan. And when a Spice Girls song comes on, everyone cheers. I know only one person who would have cheered back then. The skirts are longer too, the handbags bigger and more practical, and no one is trying to get off with anyone, as far as I can surmise.
Everyone asks about London, and each time it becomes harder to lie about everything being rosy. Maybe Kev detects that something is bothering me and that’s why he insists on leading me outside. He says he wants to show me the fish pond he has finally built after years of saying he was going to.
We duck under his washing line towards the brick structure that stands two feet high.
‘So we’ve talked about my love life,’ he says, pointing out the polyethylene lining, which is apparently less prone to leakage than a combination of brick and sealant. ‘What about yours?’
I shiver in the cold. ‘How many fish have you got in there?’
‘Four. Two koi, two goldfish. How’s Melissa?’
‘Don’t koi eat goldfish?’
‘Only if you’ve got baby goldfish, but Torvill and Dean can look after themselves.’
‘Torvill and Dean?’
‘They dance, Alex. You want to see it, when they skate together through the water. It’s something else.’
I eye him fondly. Perhaps I’ve been too harsh on him over the years. I guess he’s like a pair of shoes that chafed because I wore them every day. I needed to take them off for a bit to realize that, actually, they’re pretty comfy. Or maybe it’s just Diane’s effect. Either way, his life has moved forward since I left Mothston, while mine has regressed.
‘Get that look off your face and answer my question, will you?’
‘I haven’t spoken to Melissa for well over a week.’ I feel a spit of rain on my forehead. ‘We should go inside.’
Kev doesn’t move. ‘Why aren’t you speaking?’
I pause. Kev waits. ‘She thinks I’ve got feelings for Holly.’
‘And have you?’
‘Why can’t I see any fish?’
‘They’re hiding. They don’t like the Spice Girls. Now answer my question.’
We sit on the side of the pond and, unable to fob him off any longer, it all comes spilling out. Kev says nothing for ages, his chin resting on a fist.
‘Didn’t you, you know, ask her not to go?’
When I fail to offer an answer, Kev opens his arms as if what he’s about to say is obvious. ‘You’re a stupid twathead, you know that?’
‘You don’t know anything about it, Kev.’
‘I know Holly likes you.’
I stand up, scratching the back of my neck in frustration. ‘You know that she likes me?’
‘She told me.’
I reject his words with a laugh. ‘And when did she tell you that, exactly?’
‘In the pub when I came down to London. She told me she was jealous of you and Melissa.’
I turn away from him, grabbing the washing line and leaning into it with my weight until it is taut.
‘You’re talking shit, mate.’
‘I saw it with my own eyes, Alex. I saw it in her face. I’m telling you, Holly’s got feelings for you.’
‘Then why did she come around to say she wanted to go travelling?’
‘Have you thought about the possibility that she wanted you to give her a reason not to go?’
I release the line and return to the pond.
‘Why are there so many plants in there?’
‘They shade the water, stop algae getting out of control. And they soak up toxins so Torvill and Dean and Reggie and Ronnie don’t choke to death.’
Kev doesn’t blink or avert his eyes from mine.
‘As if I’d turn her down.’
Kev lets a shrug do his talking. OK, if you say so, it says.
‘She knows what’s what,’ I argue. ‘She knows I love her. It’s frigging obvious.’
Again Kev says nothing, redirecting his attention towards the kitchen window, through which Diane can be seen holding a can of lager that is foaming through the pull tab. It must have gone everywhere because everyone in the kitchen is cheering.
‘It’s exactly the same as sixth form. Holly coming around to tell me that we won’t see each other for ages, buggering off, forgetting all about yours truly.’
Kev’s face turns sharply towards mine. ‘Things aren’t always what they seem, mate.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He looks into the pond, pointing at something with his index finger, his arm moving with the flow of whatever it is I’m supposed to be looking at. All I can see is a ripple on the surface of the water.
‘It’s like “New York, New York”. Sometimes it comes on and I smile, but before Sinatra pipes up I realize it’s not “New York, New York” at all, it’s the theme from Steptoe.’
I cover my eyes with my hands, wearily drawing my fingers down my face, stretching the skin so that I must resemble a sad clown.
‘What I’m saying is, she came around to see you before university and you spoke about whatever you spoke about, but I’m not sure your recollection of that day would chime with Holly’s.’
I’m getting angry now and struggling to hide it. What the fuck does he know about what happened back then? There was only me and Holly in that room.
‘I think you should just shut up, Kev. You’re talking about stuff you know nothing about.’
‘No, mate, you should listen for once in your life, because I know more than you think, and I’ve never said anything because I promised Holly I wouldn’t, but, clearly, as neither of you is ever going to be honest with each other, I think it’s time . . .’
Chapter Thirty-six
HOLLY
September 1999
I sit shaking in the passenger seat while Kev drums his fingers on his steering wheel. Eventually I pull down the visor to look in the mirror. Tears have made track lines in the powder on my cheeks and ugly black mascara smudges around my eyes. Wild strands of hair are clamped to my forehead with sweat and I notice that the right-hand side of my collar is higher than the left. I tug on the bottom of my shirt. The left side is longer. I’ve done my buttons back up wrong.
Pulling out a hairband from my handbag, I pile my hair messily on top of my head, securing it tightly.
Kev glances at me, then reaches across me and opens the glove box, grabbing a box of tissues and dropping them gently onto my lap.
‘So,’ he says, after I’ve wiped my face, ‘are you going to tell me what’s going on?’
I was much drunker, and much happier, a couple of hours earlier.
‘I love this song,’ squealed Ellie as the sound of ‘A Little Bit of Luck’ made its way from the house into the garden. She grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet, singing and spilling my plastic cup of Turbo Shandy over the grass.
Several others joined us dancing and three minutes of watching the boys pull their best garage moves made me collapse in laughter on the ground again.
‘Oh, don’t go to university,’ Ellie whined at me for the hundredth time, sitting down next to me. ‘I’ll miss you.’
‘I’ll miss you too,’ I laughed, pointing at her
drunkenly. Her mum and stepdad are visiting friends in Sheffield, so Ellie offered to throw an end-of-summer party before everyone either gets jobs or goes to uni. ‘But you can come and stay with me in London. And I’ll be back to Mothston loads to see you and Dean, and everyone else.’
‘So are you and Dean going to do the long-distance thing or what?’ she asked.
‘Dunno.’ It was true – I didn’t. Who knew how either of us would feel once we were separated? No point worrying about it, I thought. What will be will be. ‘We’ll see what happens.’
‘Still thinking of shagging him before you go, though?’
‘Yeah,’ I giggled shyly.
‘About time – you’ve been a virgin, like, for ever.’
Ellie’s been with four different boys since she lost her virginity a year ago. None of them boyfriends.
‘Talk of the devil . . . Dean! Over here!’
Dean had wandered out into the garden and strolled over at Ellie’s holler.
‘Well, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it,’ she said, springing to her feet. ‘Oh, and feel free to go hang out in the spare room if you want some privacy.’
She winked mega-unsubtly, making me blush and Dean laugh, and sauntered off into the house.
‘Holly?’ Kev’s face is a mixture of concern and impatience, and I realize I’ve been sitting here just staring out of the window for ages. So I lean my head against the glass and start to talk.
We were kissing for ages in the bedroom. His breath tasted of cigarettes and beer, and it was making me queasy. I kept waiting for a feeling – some kind of urge that made me want to do more than just kiss. But it never came. I felt nervous and tired. And it hit me. I didn’t want to do this.
‘Dean?’
‘God, you’re beautiful,’ he mumbled against my neck.
‘Do you think we could just cuddle or something?’
‘Sure,’ he breathed, pulling me closer and holding me there. Then his hands started roaming over my body.
‘Dean, wait.’
‘Holly, trust me,’ he whispered into my ear. ‘When you want to stop, just say stop.’
He covered my mouth with his. I felt suffocated.
‘Dean, I—’
‘Just relax,’ he said, starting to unbutton my black silk shirt clumsily. I covered his hand with mine to stop him but he pinned my arm above my head and carried on with one hand, tugging at the last button, making it ping off and land on the floor.
‘Oops,’ he laughed, breathlessly. Then he began squeezing my boobs, alternating between the two. I tried to get into it – I’d quite liked the times his hands had slipped under my bra when we’d been kissing before – but this was different. It felt weird. It made my stomach clench and a wave of nausea run through me that felt nothing to do with how much I’d drunk.
‘Dean,’ I whispered again. I could hear voices on the landing outside the room. One of the boys was reciting the instructions of a drinking game. I didn’t want anyone to hear what was going on. ‘I really don’t think I can—’
‘Shhhh,’ he breathed gently, burying his head in my chest. ‘You’re so sexy, Holly.’ His hand was up my denim skirt and on my knickers now and he pulled them halfway down my thighs. ‘You’ll enjoy it if you relax.’
His hand crept back up, his fingers searching. I tried to relax. I felt guilty. I’d made Dean think I was ready. I’d come into the bedroom with him and let him kiss me and touch me. But his touch was clumsy and it wasn’t making me feel good at all.
‘Dean, maybe we should stop – it doesn’t feel right,’ I hissed, as a girl on the landing wailed ‘I still don’t get it,’ while four or five others laughed, and the boy started to repeat the rules.
‘Shhh,’ he repeated. ‘Stop acting like such a kid, Holly.’
Was he right? Was I acting like a kid? Maybe it was meant to feel like this the first time.
But when I heard him undo his zip my body numbed with fear.
‘Dean, I don’t want to do this.’ I pressed my palms on his chest and gently pushed. ‘Please, can we stop?’
What came next is a blur. The brief relief that his hand had moved away, a chorus of voices chanting ‘Down it, down it, down it’ outside the door, my anger being replaced by fear, a sharp pain. I let my body go limp, and I stopped trying to push him away.
I don’t tell Kev everything. Just a summary. And when I’m done I turn to look at him for the first time. His eyes are the size of tea plates and he opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but no words come out. I don’t know why I told him. Kev and I have never been that close and I never would have confided in him about anything before. But I needed to tell someone, and from the moment I climbed into his car I felt that if Alex trusted Kev, then so could I.
Kev turns away from me, instead staring ahead through his windscreen. He clutches his steering wheel like he’s driving, even though the engine is turned off.
‘Shit, Holly. You mean he—’
‘No, no. I mean – I don’t know.’ I sigh, rubbing my temples.
‘Do you want me to call the police?’
‘God, no. I wouldn’t even know what to say, how to explain it properly.’
‘Do you want me to go in there and beat the shit out of him?’
I smile slightly for the first time. ‘No, that’s OK.’
‘You sure you don’t want me to kick his arse?’
I nod. Then I put my face in my hands and cry. Kev lets me, stretching his arm out to pat my shoulder awkwardly from his seat, but not coming any closer.
‘Oh, Kev, I’m such a fucking idiot. Why was I even there? Dean doesn’t give a shit about me. None of them does.’
‘If you’re waiting for me to disagree that your mates are all a bunch of cocksuckers,’ Kev says after a pause, ‘then forget it.’
‘I’m not.’ I sigh. ‘And they’re not my mates. Not any more.’
‘Hey, whoever is being sick in there, it better be in the loo,’ Ellie had yelled, banging hard on the door.
I wiped my mouth and got up to open the door, locking it again once Ellie was inside.
‘Oh, it’s you. Bloody hell, Hols – you look terrible.’
I was about to answer when a fresh wave of nausea hit me and I bent over the loo again, heaving heavily, until there was nothing left in me, and it was just stomach bile I was spitting into the bowl.
‘It’s not like you to spew,’ Ellie laughed, holding my hair back. ‘That’s my party trick.’
Confident there was nothing left to bring up, I pulled down the toilet seat and sat on it, holding my head in my hands.
Ellie zipped open a make-up bag on the bathroom shelf and began applying bronzer at the mirror above the sink.
‘Soooo,’ she smirked. ‘Did you and Dean do it or what?’
I looked up at her and tried to work out what to say. Ordinarily, I’d be pointing out that she was putting far too much bronzer on and was changing ethnicity in front of my eyes, but it seemed a bit irrelevant at that point.
‘Kind of,’ I whispered.
‘Kind of?’ she cackled, dropping the bronzer back in the bag and pulling out a lipstick. ‘Either you did or you didn’t. Urgh, you didn’t puke on him, did you?’
I shook my head.
‘Did he get it all the way in?’
‘Yes, he did. That’s not what I meant by kind of.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t want to.’
‘Yes you did, I saw you go into the room together.’
‘I know, but I told him I wasn’t ready. Ellie I . . . I said no. I told him to stop.’
I watched her in the mirror to see her reaction. Her hand froze at her mouth for a split second, but then she carried on gliding the pale pink lipstick over her lips.
‘Did you hear me? He—’
‘I don’t really see what your problem is,’ she said, spinning around to look at me and clicking the lid back on the lipstick.
‘What do you mean?’
‘So you had it off w
ith your boyfriend. Big deal. It hurts a bit the first time. But it gets better after that. I should know, I’ve done it four times.’
‘But I didn’t want to do it.’
‘So what – are you saying he raped you?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Holly, Dean Jones is fit. He could have any girl here. He doesn’t need to rape anyone. If you’re regretting doing it with him, then get over it. You had to lose it at some point.’
‘Ellie!’
‘What? I don’t know what you expected me to say.’ She sounded irritated. ‘You’re just wasted.’
She turned on her heel to leave.
‘Oh, and make sure you don’t get sick on the carpet, yeah?’ she said on her way out of the door. ‘My mum’ll kill me.’
‘Alex is my only real friend, you know,’ I tell Kev.
‘Yeah, well. That kid would do anything for you.’
‘I know. And that’s why I need to see him. I need to tell him how I feel.’
‘What do you mean?’
I left the bathroom and stumbled downstairs, ignoring everyone, and walked out of the house, without saying goodbye to anyone.
I needed to get home. My default setting meant I was soon punching Alex’s number into the mobile that Dad had bought Mum a week earlier and that Mum had passed on to me, huffily declaring that she never went anywhere anyway. The thought of seeing Alex was like an unexpected beacon of light in a big void of shitness.
I wanted him there so much that I ached.
He looks after me. Makes me laugh. Makes me feel safe, and happy. That’s what I love about him.
I love Alex.
I love him so much it makes my insides hurt.
Why don’t I just tell him instead of playing this stupid game with these losers? They act to the rest of the school like we’re a big bunch of best friends, but behind each other’s backs they’re all slagging each other off and getting off with each other’s boyfriends.
