Cross Your Heart, Connie Pickles

by Sabine Durrant

  ‘Oh,’ he said. His eyes were half closed. His face came closer towards me again. On it was the expression on his face that I think of as goofy. William’s goofy expression. William’s goofy about-to-snog-me expression.

  I leapt up. ‘William!’ I said. ‘You’re my friend. We’re friends. Stop it. Don’t look at me like that. Get up.’

  ‘What?’ he said, looking dazed. ‘What do you mean?’

  I was waving my arms around, shaking my head. ‘Don’t. Don’t look at me like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like… like…’

  He put his hand out and tried to pull me down. ‘Come here,’ he said.

  I yanked away. ‘No. William. We mustn’t do this.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘We mustn’t kiss each other.’

  ‘But I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages.’

  ‘Well, you can’t,’ I said.

  His sleepy expression had begun to harden into something more resentful. He sat up. ‘Didn’t you like it?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That. Just then. Me kissing you.’

  ‘No. Yes. No. I don’t know.’ All I felt was confusion and fear. Granny Enid’s always saying men take advantage of Mother. I said, ‘I was taking advantage of you. I liked it but I shouldn’t have. You’re my friend. I know you, you… you like me. I don’t want to lead you on.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ He was looking sullen now.

  ‘If you kiss me, you’ll want to go out with me. I don’t want to go out with you.’

  ‘What, never?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m not like Delilah. I don’t want to try things out. I want to wait for The One.’

  ‘Right.’ His voice sounded louder than usual and more uncouth.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said.

  ‘I’m off, then.’

  He got up and went into the hall. I didn’t follow him. I know it sounds awful, but I wanted him to leave. I heard the clank of the change in his parka pocket and the scrape of his bike, a muttered oath and the rattle of the door, the rush of the rain on the pavement, a passing car, and then a slam and he was gone.

  I sank back into the cushions, in the dark sitting room. Maybe I’d have cried if I’d had any water in my tear ducts. I felt hollowed out and distant from myself, as if all the events of the afternoon, all the revelations, the humiliations and the snogging had happened to someone else. I was too confused to think about John Leakey I didn’t want to think about William. Or even Mr Spence. I just wanted to be alone. And that’s where I am still, sitting on the sofa in the dark, more miserable and confused than I’ve ever been in my life.

  Tuesday 18 March

  My bedroom, 4.30 p.m.

  William didn’t call for me this morning. I didn’t think he was going to, but I waited just in case. It was assembly so I ended up being late. I had to sit next to the teachers. William was at the end of a row quite near me, but he didn’t turn in my direction. His face looked rigid.

  He ignored me at break and he ignored me at lunch. He even ignored me after general studies when Chloe stopped me halfway out of the classroom to say, ‘Got your euros for France yet, Connie?’ And he walked right between us as I was reminding her I wasn’t going.

  I suppose I understand. I led him on, didn’t I? It was a moment of madness. And it was nice. But I mustn’t think about it. I mustn’t. In the dark hours of last night I wondered whether I’m afraid of… I can’t even say it… of sex. What if it’s awful, or I’m awful at it? I’d rather try it out with a stranger, not someone I know well, not William. It’s embarrassing for one thing. And he can’t be The One. I know him too well. I know all his faults and his stupidness – his crap French accent and the way he narrows his brows and tries to look cool when he’s feeling miserable. Julie says she loves Ade because he doesn’t try to hide how much he likes her, but it doesn’t work for me. If William liked me less I might like him more.

  I’ve tried to talk to Julie. We sat on our bench at break today. It was warm sitting there; the sun was on our backs. You could hear birdsong. I didn’t mention what a fool I’d made of myself with John Leakey I have to keep that to myself forever and ever, but I brought her up to speed on Mr Spence. ‘Oh,’ she said, putting about fourteen scandalized syllables into that one word. I was encouraged by that. I began to express my horror and disgust – I think I mentioned his satin shorts – but she laughed, picked at a splinter of loose wood on the bench and said, ‘Mission accomplished.’ So I knew she wasn’t going to help me change the situation. It seems Uncle Bert is taking her and Ade to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch on Sunday. ‘Sue will probably come along too,’ she said.

  I remembered Sue punching the sports bag and felt glad. I said, ‘Are they back together?’

  I thought Julie might be upset, but she smiled and said, ‘Yeah. ‘Parently. He picked her up from the airport when she got back from Australia. Still, I’ve got her trained now. She knows not to mess with me.’ She was using the splinter of loose wood to carve a heart in the back of the bench. I suppose her mind’s on other things.

  ‘William kissed me yesterday,’ I said.

  She dropped the wood. ‘No! You strumpet! You piece of work! Well?’

  I told her the story, concentrating on the rain and cutting out the tears (and the reason for them).

  ‘Was he good?’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know. Julie! How can you ask that? How would I know? It was quite nice. But then he –’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He got this expression on his face, sort of lovesick.’

  ‘Oh.’ She smiled knowingly. She said a few things about ‘the balance of power’ in relationships, but the subject led pretty swiftly back to Ade. The Perfect Boyfriend. The Love of Her Life. The One. They’re going together to Delilah’s party on Saturday. I said, knowing that she doesn’t really like Delilah, I thought she’d have better things to do. She said it would be a laugh. And, anyway, before the party, in the afternoon, she and Ade are going shopping together, and after it they’re going to back to her dad’s – who, though Julie’s mum doesn’t know it, is away on business. And, with the flat to themselves, ‘I think we might… you know –’ She winced, tensing her shoulders at the same time.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do it.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes!’

  People can really surprise you. I thought Julie had slept with loads of boys – well, at least Phil from the sixth-form college.

  I said, trying to sound cool, ‘Haven’t you already?’

  ‘No! Not with… not with anyone! It’s not that I’ve been saving myself. It’s more that… I haven’t really wanted to?’ She put this like a question.

  I said I understood. Maybe I’m not so far behind all my friends as I think.

  ‘Don’t tell anyone, will you?’ she said, suddenly squeezing my hand. I wasn’t sure if she meant I wasn’t to tell anyone that she was going to sleep with Ade, or that I wasn’t to tell anyone that sleeping with him would be her first time, but I nodded and shook my head to cover both possibilities. ‘Cross my heart,’ I said. The bell went then, and as we got up I gave her a quick hug for luck.

  This afternoon on the way home I crossed the road when I got to the chemist’s. When I got in I watched the news. They had some politicians on talking about a peace process. Before I could stop myself I thought, ‘Oh, I can’t wait to talk about that with John,’ but then I remembered. Today, even from the opposite pavement, I could see a new patch of white in the window – a notice about another anti-war march, or notification of a staff vacancy?

  Tanya and Marcus, Delilah’s parents, were packing up their car as I turned into our street. They’re off for a day and night’s sailing first thing tomorrow. Marcus had a squishy blue bag decorated with a pristine white anchor over his shoulder. He was wearing pink trousers and Docksiders: proper boating gear. ‘Sure
we can’t tempt you this time?’ he said when he saw me. I know he was only trying to be friendly, but it’s very annoying when people – usually adults – pretend they’ve asked you something, or invited you somewhere, when they haven’t. I thought of answering, ‘Oh, OK, actually I’ll come,’ to see what he said. Instead I grinned stupidly and said, ‘I’11 let you know when my sea legs arrive.’

  ‘You do that,’ he said. ‘And perhaps you could get some for Delilah while you’re about it.’

  We all laughed, but I could see Tanya glance anxiously back at the house. ‘Your mum says she’ll keep an eye on her, and you’ll pop in, won’t you? She’s got a lot of schoolwork but I’m worried she might be lonely’

  ‘Of course I will,’ I said.

  Lonely! Delilah lonely! If only she knew.

  I’m up in my room, with the window open. It’s still light out. It’ll be the Easter holidays soon. Everyone in the whole world is going to Paris on the French exchange. Except me. I’ll be stuck here. I’ll have to bury myself in work. Enough of love, the Library Crew beckons.

  I miss William. I thought he might drop off some chocolate buttons, but he hasn’t.

  Mr Spence is finishing off the tiling. A little while ago he called up, ‘Fancy a cup of Rosie Lee?’ And even though I want one, I told him he could piss right off with his Rosie Lee. Actually I said, ‘I’m fine thanks.’ What does Mother see in him? And what shall I do about it?

  Saturday 22 March (or rather, very early on Sunday 23 March)

  My bedroom floor, 4 a.m.

  A dispassionate account of the worst day of my life. (Yes, even worse than Monday.)

  Mother wanted to know why I wasn’t at the chemist’s. told her Mr Leakey didn’t really need me any more and how, what with SATs coming up, I felt it best to concentrate on my studies. She accepted this without comment. In fact, there was a little flicker on her face which I read as a dawning suspicion that maybe some mothers might have insisted I gave the job up anyway.

  She said, ‘So, are you going to study now?’

  I said I was and, when they were all dressed, she took Cyril and Marie off swimming.

  Peace. But then I started missing William and feeling bored. I can’t remember what I used to do on Saturdays before the chemist’s.

  I went round to Delilah’s.

  It had been playing on my mind that today was the day of the party. I wondered how prepared she was, mentally and physically, for the ordeal that was about to befall her. It was like knowing an accident was going to happen, a terrible pile-up on the motorway, and being powerless to do anything to stop it.

  She and her friend Sam were sitting wrapped in towels at the kitchen table doing their toenails. Sam’s were candy pink, Delilah’s liquorice black. They had cotton wool between their toes, and on top of the varnish they were placing nail-stickers in the shapes of hearts and flowers. The sink was piled with plates. They’d only been on their own a few hours and they already seemed to have got through most of the crockery. On the table was the remains of their breakfast: a carton of orange juice and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey.

  I asked if they were ready for the evening. Delilah rolled her eyes and said no, they had so much to do. ‘I mean, we’ve done our nails, but we’ve got our legs and underarms, and our tans to put on. I don’t know what to wear yet. I’m either going to go kind of punk-rock-chick glamour, with that new drop-waisted skirt I’ve got. You know, with the pink trim? Or I’m going to really downplay and wear jeans with my fishnet popsocks and those silver sandals? Sam’s thinking the same, aren’t you, Sam?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What are you going to wear, Connie? Wellies or those burgundy peep-toe sandals.’ She and Sam giggled.

  ‘Ha. Ha,’ I said. ‘Very funny.’

  ‘We’re going to set up the bathroom like a spa. I’ve got all Mum’s Clarins moisturizing stuff lined up ready. And our hair… I’m thinking little bunches. And we’re going to do our make-up really properly, you know, take time over it?’

  ‘I see.’ I looked up the steps into the back sitting room, at all the blond wood and white upholstery and freshly plumped cushions. ‘Do you want me to help clear some furniture?’

  Delilah made a vague gesture with her hand. ‘Do you think we need to?’

  I tried to keep the anguish out of my voice. ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s all right. Sam and I will do it later. I thought we’d close the double doors between the two sitting rooms and have music and dancing in the back room, with the stairs down to the kitchen, where the drink will be, and move the sofas and chairs into the other, where we can turn the lights down really low for anyone who wants –’ she and Sam giggled – ‘a bit of time out.’

  ‘And have you bought the booze?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said vaguely again. ‘Sorted.’

  ‘And the music… ?’

  ‘My brother’s doing it,’ explained Sam. ‘He’s only twelve, but he really knows his stuff and he’s got an iPod.’

  ‘That’s all right, then,’ I said.

  ‘And Will’s on the door. If you see him, will you remind him?’

  ‘I will if I do,’ I said, knowing I wouldn’t. ‘So I’ll be round at what time?’

  Delilah mock-panicked, making startled eyes at the clock. ‘The invitation said 8 p.m., so any time about then. Or drop round later if you like.’

  ‘What about the carpets?’ I said. ‘Shall we try and cover them?’

  Delilah looked hassled. ‘Don’t nag. There’s shampoo under the sink if we need it.’

  I left. I’d done my best.

  When I got back into our house, the rest of the day dragged. I was so bored I felt like throwing myself out of the window just to see something happen. Messy, but at least interesting. I couldn’t ring Julie because she was with Ade. I couldn’t call on William because he hated me. I couldn’t go to the high street in case I saw John. And I couldn’t go anywhere near Delilah because of the ‘spa’. I know what a spa within twenty paces of Delilah means: orange-and-oatmeal face packs.

  I mooched. I tried on clothes. I got cross with Marie for playing her recorder too loud. I buried my face in the cat’s fur and then kicked him off the bed for dribbling. I sat on the roof and listened to the traffic, smiling, snarled, circling the suburbs forever. I changed my mind and went downstairs to go to Delilah’s. Changed my mind again and went to the fridge. I ate a rice cake. And then another. I watched the news. I told Mother, who was off out, that she looked lovely, and made a face behind her back. I hugged Jack. He was on his own for once, having split up from Dawn. (Dawn has finally broken.) And then I said, ‘Get off,’ and went back upstairs. And at eight o’clock, finally, I dressed (pink ra-ra skirt, denim jacket, red baseball boots), said goodnight, promised not to be late, laughed at Jack’s ‘ring me if you need a lift home’ jokes, and left for the party.

  Delilah opened the door. Her face fell when she saw me. ‘No one’s here,’ she squealed. ‘I can’t bear it. It’s all a failure. I’m a social disaster. I wish I was dead.’

  She had obviously opted for rock-chick. She was wearing a black halterneck top, decorated with a diamanté heart, which showed off her soft golden shoulders, and a black skirt with a jagged hem, which hid her curvaceous tummy. On her legs were large-scale fishnets (the sort of net you’d need to catch a shark in rather than a sardine) and a pair of black biker boots with buckles. She had heavy kohl round her eyes and shiny crimson lipgloss that made her mouth look enormous. Delicate diamond pendants glinted from her ears.

  ‘You look amazing,’ I said.

  ‘Do you like my earrings?’ she hissed. ‘They’re real diamonds. They’re Mum’s.’

  We went into the front half of the sitting room, where the light was dimmed and music was playing. It was empty of furniture except for a couple of chairs, with girls on them, and a side table in the window, behind which crouched a small kid with two gold pendants round his neck (one in the style of a cross), voluminous jogging pants a
nd a cap at an angle. He was standing, fiddling with an iPod in one hand and making flicking hand movements – fingers stuck together in twos – with the other. He looked about ten except that he had a bum-fluff moustache.

  ‘That’s Sam’s brother,’ Delilah told me. ‘He wants to be a DJ…’

  ‘… When he grows up,’ I said.

  ‘Ssh.’ She gave me a look. ‘He comes with an iPod, so shut it.’

  ‘How can he afford an iPod at his age?’

  ‘He has two buses and a train to get to school. His parents feel sorry for him. Also, according to Sam, they’re so relieved to find he’s got an interest.’

  I laughed, though Delilah didn’t, and lifted my hand in the direction of Sam, who was sitting on one of the chairs, her fingers tugging at the smallest denim miniskirt I’d ever seen. She looked like she was shivering under her tiny camisole. She sent me a weak smile back. Her face looked spottier than usual. I wondered if the orange-and-oatmeal face pack had given her a rash. Standing next to her were two girls in bomber jackets and hoop earrings who were laughing hysterically while banging their hips together self-consciously in – sort of – time to the music.

  Delilah shouted at me to come and get a drink. I followed her to the kitchen, where the table was laid out with plastic cups, a washing-up basin full of a mysterious dark-red potion, bobbing with bits of apple and orange, a few bottles of beer, some baguettes and, touchingly, half a Brie.

  ‘You’ve got the cheese in, then?’ I said, trying to conceal a smile. Marcus and Tanya always provided half a Brie along with the Pimm’s at their summer party.

  ‘Soaks up the booze,’ she said. ‘We don’t want people getting too drunk.’

  She ladled me a cup of the dark-red brew, which I took a quick sip of. It tasted astringent, half smoky, half sweet, with a vicious undercurrent that caught the throat. I coughed. ‘God. What’s in it?’

  Delilah giggled. I caught her glance towards a black garbage sack in the corner, with some bottles sticking out. ‘Don’t ask,’ she said. ‘Sam and I have been experimenting. Call it the Delilah Bite.’