The Making of Us

by Debbie McGowan

  However, there wasn’t much in the way of moderation happening here, and the four of us scoffed three pasties each. Three! The usual post-splurge guilt threatened an appearance, and I quickly quashed it. I’d eaten the same as everyone else—the normal people—but I bowed out on dessert: Cornish vanilla ice cream. It wasn’t that hard to resist.

  “I’ve got some little cakes,” Hazel offered.

  “No, thank you,” I said with what I hoped was a gracious smile. I could get my fill of joy from watching Leigh eat their ice cream, although I’d needed a pee when we were on the coach, and it was getting a bit desperate. “Could I use your bathroom, please?”

  “Course you can. Just along the hall there. We’ll show you where everything is before you retire for the night. You don’t want to be using that chemical toilet when you can come in here and use a proper one.”

  “OK. Thanks.” I set off in the direction Hazel had indicated and found the bathroom on the second attempt—the first being the sitting room. It had to be about the same floor area as our flat, and there was a piano in there, along with a couple of sofas and a huge TV. There was also a large print on the wall that only half-registered on my way to the bathroom, but the mental image stayed with me, and I slowed on the way back to confirm I was right: it was a portrait of baby Matty and, I assumed, his mum.

  I returned to the dining room to find everyone helping clear the table. Hazel and Stuart led us through to the kitchen—also huge—and told us to help ourselves to whatever we wanted for the duration of our stay. While Leigh, Matty and Noah took turns with the bathroom, Stuart gave me the wi-fi password and then invited us to sit with them and watch TV, but we were bushed, so we said our goodnights and thanked them for the amazing food, and for having us, and plodded back across the enchanted garden to the camper van.

  Noah and Matty had no shame at all. Both stripped to their boxers in plain sight while Leigh and I loitered awkwardly, waiting for them to get out of the way. It didn’t take them very long, though it felt like forever, and Leigh’s sigh, when Matty finally pulled down the shutter that concealed their bed, was easily as loud as mine.

  “I’ll get changed in there,” Leigh suggested, nodding at the bathroom door.

  “Is there enough space?”

  “I’m only little.” They grinned and dug out their PJs and wash bag. “Be back soon.”

  “OK,” I said, already frantically digging through my bag for my PJs and then almost falling flat on my face in my hurry to get them on. In the absence of a toothbrush, I swilled with mouthwash at the sink in the kitchen area and then Marine-crawled up the bed, diving under the duvet with seconds to spare.

  “That was quick,” Leigh observed.

  “I’m warming it up for you,” I said.

  They put their wash bag away and climbed onto the bed. “Would now be a good time to tell you I have really cold feet?”

  “Literally or figuratively?”

  “Oh, only literally.” Leigh slid the door shut and joined me under the duvet. I squealed.

  “You weren’t kidding, were you?”

  “Nope.” Leigh giggled and shuffled closer. No exaggeration, it was like having blocks of ice on my shins.

  “I don’t mind being your hot water bottle,” I said bravely, and I didn’t. Far from it.

  After a bit of arms-under-and-over nonsense, we settled into a good sleeping position, and kissed goodnight. Slowly, gently, arousingly…but there was no urgency. The only thought in my head as I drifted off to sleep was how much I wanted this, every night, for the rest of my life.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The mornings when you drift gently into wakefulness are the absolute best. I’d been listening for a while to the unfamiliar noises—the outer door opening and closing, the squeak of rubber soles on ladder rungs, Matty trying to persuade Noah to get out of bed, Leigh’s quiet snores…

  In our sleep, we’d ended up spooning, which was fantastic on the one hand, on the other…well, I couldn’t feel the other. So far, I’d ignored the minor distress of having no feeling whatsoever in my left arm, which was under Leigh’s neck, and I didn’t dare move it for fear I’d wake them. But it was becoming unbearable.

  “Leigh? Are you awake?” I whispered, knowing they weren’t. The snores stopped. Some seconds later, they stretched and rolled onto their back.

  “I need to move my arm, I’m sorry.”

  They lifted their head, and I tried to lift my arm, but it was completely dead. I grabbed myself by the wrist and hefted the stupid limb out of the way in the nick of time.

  “Morning,” Leigh greeted.

  “Morning.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Um…” I sought out my phone. “Quarter to eight.”

  “That is a lot of sleep.” Leigh rolled to face me. “Did you sleep OK?”

  “Yep.” I recalled waking at one point, but it hadn’t been for long. “You?”

  “Yep. I always do.”

  Someone tapped lightly on our ‘bedroom’ door. Matty. “Are you two awake?”

  “Just about.”

  “Decent?”

  We both tugged the covers up under our chins, even though we were still in our PJs. “Just about.”

  Matty pushed the door open a few inches, looking up rather than at us. “Oh, it’s on a runner.”

  “You’re wearing your glasses,” Leigh observed.

  “Lost a lens. I’ve got some more…somewhere. Anyway, my nan said to tell you to use the shower in the house instead of this one.”

  “Excellent. You want to go first or second?” I asked Leigh.

  “First, if that’s OK? I need to take my pills.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “I’ll get out of your way,” Matty said. The door started to close, and Leigh pushed the duvet back. Matty’s nose poked through the diminishing gap. “Oh, and we’re to help ourselves to breakfast.”

  “OK,” I said.

  The door closed properly this time, and Leigh raised their eyes. Typical Matty.

  So began our holiday: woke up next to Leigh, had the best shower ever in Hazel and Stuart’s house, put on my shorts…discovered I’d lost so much weight they wouldn’t stay up. It was kind of awesome, except…Cornwall, no belt—no loops for a belt, for that matter.

  The jeans I basically lived in were baggy and—confession time—elasticated, so I hadn’t noticed, and I’d missed Weight Watchers, on top of which, I was preoccupied with Leigh and the election. Again, it was kind of awesome, because I’d have been fastidiously trying on my old jeans every night to see if I could fasten them yet. However, we were going down to the beach, which left me with two options: roll up my jeans and hope I didn’t get them wet, or wear low-slung shorts. I wiggled to see how far down they slid; my t-shirt was long enough to keep me covered. Low-slung shorts it was.

  Next mission: breakfast and then to procure a toothbrush.

  “I’ll ask my nan,” Matty said, and before I could say ‘just’—never mind ‘ask her where’s the nearest shop that sells them’—he’d bolted from the kitchen, shouting, “Nan? Don’t suppose you’ve got a spare toothbrush?”

  “I believe I have. I’ll check for you once Noah’s out of the shower.”

  A short while later, Matty returned and put a still-in-its-packet toothbrush next to my cereal bowl.

  “Cheers, Matt.”

  “No problem.” He didn’t bother sitting again but picked up his bowl and tipped it like a cup to his mouth, crunching cornflakes and trying to catch the milk dribbling down his chin. The dogs followed the trail of drips he left all the way to the kitchen sink.

  My attention was jolted from Matty’s antics to Noah’s sudden appearance in vest, boardies and flip-flops. “G’day.”

  He’d gone Kiwi on us.

  “Are you going to eat that?” Leigh asked, staring at the spoon I’d loaded, ready to eat, before Matty arrived with the toothbrush.

  “Um, yeah,” I said.
Noah was distracting me big time. He was far too cheerful, and I don’t just mean too cheerful for him—which would have required little more than an amused grimace—I mean he could’ve put Mr. Happy to shame. He loaded a bowl with cereal and milk and came to perch on the stool opposite me.

  “What you got there, mate?” He nodded at my breakfast.

  I glanced down to remind myself. “Shredded Wheat.” Hard to believe, looking at the soggy gloop.

  “Likewise.” He hacked the end off one of the three biscuits in his bowl and crammed it into his mouth. “Mmm. Haven’t had these in years.”

  Maybe I was still asleep on the coach after all.

  Hazel arrived with dog leads, prompting a reprise of the barking frenzy, which lasted until she extracted a couple of tennis balls from a drawer, at which point both dogs sat, and stayed sitting while she attached their leads. “Have fun!” she called on her way out.

  “Thanks, Nan,” Matty called after her. “Gonna go put on sunblock.” He kissed Noah and left the kitchen.

  “Eat up, mate,” Noah encouraged. He’d already finished—How? When?—and got up to wash his bowl. “See you in ten.”

  “OK,” Leigh answered for both of us, seeing as I was now speed-eating the last of my breakfast. It wasn’t a wise move—hiccups and teeth-brushing. Not a combination I’d recommend.

  I hiccupped all the way to the beach, where Noah and Matty went to the surf hire shop located under the shore-front café and got suited and boarded up. It was a bright morning, although the sun wasn’t yet high enough to reach our side of the peninsula, so a bit chilly. Leigh and I strolled—briskly—along the shore, staying close to the cliffs, pausing to investigate the clumps of crustaceans and seaweed hanging from the rock face.

  “Is it salty?” Leigh asked. “Seaweed, I mean.”

  “To eat? Yep. Very.” I scooped some dulse from a rock pool. “Fried, this tastes like bacon.”

  “It does not,” Leigh scoffed.

  “Seriously.”

  Leigh was still dubious. They kicked out of their Converse, waded into the shallow water and…

  Got stung by a jellyfish.

  Yeah.

  It was dead, washed up by the last high tide, but its tentacles could still do their stuff, so I did mine.

  “Hospital?”

  Leigh jumped out of the pool and scowled down at the raised liny rash forming across their shins. “It’s not too bad—kind of like a nettle sting? It’s really itchy, though.” They jiggled, fighting the urge to scratch.

  “Apart from that, how do you feel?”

  “Fine.”

  “OK.”

  “For now…” Leigh slumped on the rock and glared daggers at the bobbing blob in the pool. “I don’t want to go to hospital.”

  “Maybe you won’t have to. Have you ever been stung by anything before? Nettles, I’m guessing?”

  “Yeah. A few times, and a bee once. Nothing happened. Well, it died, obviously, but I was OK. You’re worried.”

  “I am, but you know your body better than I do.”

  Leigh peered up at me through their hair. “For now.” They grinned.

  Ah, me. I shook my head, laughing, and caught sight of Noah and Matty fifty yards or so from our location, both heading out into the waves. I turned back to Leigh and crouched to get a closer look at the rash. “It’s not getting any worse.”

  “No. We could go to the walk-in centre, get them to check me over.”

  “We don’t have to if you’re sure—”

  “To stop you worrying,” Leigh interrupted, but this wasn’t like last time, when Matty’s dad assaulted him, and Leigh felt sick and dizzy. They’d taken their injection without hesitation.

  “Any headache?”

  “Nope.”

  “Dizziness?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nausea?”

  “Nope. No sweating or abdominal pain, either.”

  “Then no walk-in centre. But if anything changes…”

  “I’ll tell you right away, Doctor Thomas.”

  “Hmm.”

  “It’s a great view from here.” Leigh shuffled over so there was room for me to sit next to them. It was a big rock, and warmer than I’d expected, although the ocean breeze was not.

  We watched Noah and Matty for a while, uninteresting as that was. They weren’t doing anything.

  “You’d make a brilliant doctor,” Leigh said.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? You’re clever, calm in a crisis—you already know loads of stuff.”

  “Not really.” I pointed out to sea. “I think Noah’s giving Matty lessons.”

  “Was that a deliberate change of subject?”

  Leigh knew me far too well already. “Yeah. It failed, didn’t it?”

  “We can change it if you want.”

  I sighed, torn between wanting to share and not wanting to revisit. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Anything.”

  “It’s not really a secret, but I’ve never told anyone before. D’you remember those little red and yellow sit-in cars?”

  “Yeah.” Leigh’s smile was dreamy-nostalgic. “I had one.”

  “Me, too. I wanted an ambulance, but they only made a fire engine, so my mum got me a car and put red cross stickers on it. I loved it so much. That’s what I was going to be when I grew up. An ambulance driver. I still remember telling people and being surprised they already knew. It’s all I ever talked about, my mum says, until we had a visit from the paramedics in high school.” I closed my eyes and watched the replay in my head. Smart green uniforms, CPR on a dummy, wrapping our Head of Year in bandages and slings, attaching fake drips, role-playing responding to emergencies…

  “I knew that was the job I wanted. I was going to be a paramedic. I found out everything I could about it—qualifications, experience, pay, opportunities… When we had our Connexions interviews in year nine, I told my advisor. He was well impressed I’d decided on a career already and looked into it. I had the right attitude, and good grades, but, he said…” The words that shattered my dreams. “I’d have to lose a lot of weight, get fit. And he was right. It’s up there at the top of the person specification. Physical fitness.”

  Leigh leaned against me and clasped my hands in both of theirs. They didn’t say a word.

  “I tried. I really did. I lost half a stone, but I was so fed up. Depressed, I guess. I couldn’t keep it up, so…instead, I tried to forget about it, except every time I saw the Connexions people, they’d ask if I still wanted to be a paramedic, and it was easier to tell them I’d changed my mind and put up with them nagging me about how important it was to decide on a career. I didn’t have a second choice. Still don’t.”

  “I used to hate that,” Leigh said. “The way they pin you down to an answer. Who really knows, when they’re fourteen, what career they want?”

  “Did you?”

  “Well…yeah.” Leigh’s nose wrinkled. “Sorry.”

  I laughed. “It’s OK. I know what you mean. Most of my mates had no clue and just randomly picked a job title. The teacher got us to research skills and qualifications in PHSE, and draw career ladders. But I’d already done all that, and I was bored out of my mind.”

  And miserable, but at some point, I’d realised that no matter how hard I tried, some things would never be possible, like becoming a paramedic. I’d got over it.

  “Is that why you became a first-aider?” Leigh asked.

  “No… Actually, I dunno. Maybe a bit? I wasn’t fit enough to go on expedition or do the physical section of the Duke of Edinburgh’s award, so the volunteer coordinator gave me a choice: first-aid training, or helping out at the primary school.”

  “I did some voluntary work in a primary school.” Leigh’s voice wavered on a shiver. “We planted trees.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded doing something like that, but I don’t really know how to deal with little kids. Are you cold, or…?”

  “Just cold,”
they confirmed. “We should get moving.”

  “Yeah.” We got up and continued in the same direction to the end of the bay and rounded the cliff, where the low, feeble sun sparkled on the peaks of waves. It was beautiful, but we were no longer sheltered from the wind, so we walked back the way we’d come and watched Noah and Matty in the distance. We even caught a few seconds of Noah up on his board before he wobbled and fell off.

  “Do you want kids?” Leigh asked. “I mean, when you’re older. Not now.”

  The clarification made me smile and gave me time to consider my response. “I haven’t given it much thought.” Which was true. I didn’t need to.

  “Is that more yes or more no?”

  “More…no.” I glanced sideways as Leigh shook their hair back from their face. They briefly met my gaze and smiled, but it was forced. “If we’re talking about us and it’s a deal breaker…then it’s more yes.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. If having kids is important to you, then it’s important to me, too.”

  “Whoa!”

  Urgh. That was a stupid thing to say. I tried to backtrack a little. “Assuming we’re still together then.” I sighed, frustrated by how little control I had over the words leaving my mouth. “You know what? I’m just gonna shut up.”

  “No, don’t do that,” Leigh said. “Let’s start again. Do you want kids?”

  “I don’t, but if I was with someone who wanted them, I’d make the compromise.” It was no use. I couldn’t keep this hypothetical anymore. “I can’t imagine being with anyone else, or ever wanting to be with anyone else. I know we’re young and new, and this is a bit…I dunno. Fatalistic, I guess—not in a bad way—because I think we were meant to be, and I really, really hope this is forever. So, when I say I’d compromise, I mean I would do anything for you.”

  “And again—whoa!”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Jesse, it wasn’t you talking like we’re already planning to start a family that shocked me. It’s that you’d do it for me.”

  This time, when I looked Leigh’s way, I got the real deal: a full beaming smile that could’ve outshone the sun. If there were a sun to outshine. October, man…