by Clare Ashton
Poppy was too occupied to listen for her mother and Rosalyn. Her new customers had very particular requirements for their tea and indulged in some enjoyable ruminating over the cake choices. To satisfy all appetites, Poppy created a “bit-on-the-side” cake serving, a small morsel on the saucer to accompany a coffee for those who didn’t want to acknowledge they were having a piece of cake.
By the time they settled she imagined Rosalyn had left and she ran to the window to check the square. There was no sign of her. The disappointment sank in her chest and she stared out of the window. The scene outside was a blur and the chatter of the café dissociated into a background hum.
“Hi.”
It felt like the world stopped turning when she heard Rosalyn’s mellifluous voice. The chatter of the customers faded to nothing and Poppy was only aware of the warmth of Rosalyn’s presence. She’d uttered the words so close to her cheek that her breath tickled her skin.
Poppy smiled and turned to see Rosalyn’s face a few inches from her own. “Hi.”
Rosalyn’s face glowed with enthralled attention. It was irresistible. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch you last night,” she murmured.
“You seemed busy with Cerys. I didn’t want to get in the way.”
“You wouldn’t have been,” Rosalyn whispered. Her eyes seemed dark and Poppy’s head began to swim as she stared into their depths. She didn’t resist it. For a few moments they stood, neither saying a word, and all Poppy could do was melt with the sensation of Rosalyn so near.
“I wondered,” Rosalyn began, “if you would like to meet again, before I leave.”
“Mmm,” Poppy responded, and the sound resonated pleasurably through her body.
“I’m here for a few days, but I didn’t want to miss seeing you again.”
Poppy nodded, still mesmerised by the dark pools of Rosalyn’s eyes. And when Poppy’s gaze slipped, it fell upon Rosalyn’s full lips. They were parted, expectant, sighing from their soft depths.
“Yes,” Poppy murmured in a daze. “Tomorrow evening?”
“I’d love to.”
Poppy closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of Rosalyn’s breath on her own mouth. “Tomorrow then.”
“I’ll come for you.” And Rosalyn felt closer still.
“Oh.” Poppy faltered, and she tried again this time managing, “Ok.” She opened her eyes to see Rosalyn’s intimate gaze. “I’ll be ready for you.”
“See you at eight,” Rosalyn whispered, and before Poppy could respond she’d disappeared down the stairs.
Poppy stumbled back, only then realising what she’d agreed to.
Oh god. An evening out with Rosalyn? That would be worse than a date. Imagine – wine, an intimate setting, Rosalyn all to herself. She would be overcome with lust. She hadn’t managed the past five minutes in Rosalyn’s company without being enraptured. How would she manage a night?
Chapter 19.
“So it’s like a date.” Pip lay on the bed gazing through the porthole while Poppy raided the clothes drawers.
“No, it’s not a date.” Poppy’s voice was muffled by the dress wrapped around her head. She pulled it down and frowned at the web of creases. She made a disgruntled sigh, pulled off the garment and threw it on the growing pile of rejects. “We’re just going out for the evening.”
“Like friends or something?”
“Yes.” Poppy mused. “Yes to the ‘or something’.”
“So it is a date.”
“No.” Poppy laughed and threw a T shirt at Pip. “I meant I wouldn’t classify it as friends either. Maybe nearly friends, or something like that. Possibly.”
“But she does fancy you?”
“No, Pip. She doesn’t fancy me.”
“Why not?”
Poppy looked at her sister, hands on hips. “Have you seen her? She’s the kind of woman you see at film premieres. She’s beautiful. Magazine-cover gorgeous.”
“So are you.”
Poppy stood in her old T shirt, mismatched knickers and bra and a single sock. She looked at her sister with an indulgent face and bursting heart. “Bless you, Pip. That’s lovely of you to say.”
“So, she probably does fancy you.”
“No.” Poppy rolled her eyes. “Rosalyn Thorn does not fancy me. It’s not like at school. Not everyone has a crush on everyone else in the village.” Apart from Poppy who, it would seem, had a massive one. “And anyway, I’ve never seen any sign she’s gay.” Quite the contrary, including the flirty picture of her boss on the phone.
“But you fancy her.”
“Pip. It is possible to be friends with a beautiful woman without fancying her.” This was something Poppy had firmly believed, but her belief was being sorely shaken.
“Friends with benefits?”
Poppy spun around, her mouth open. “Where…? Where did you get that phrase?”
“CBBC.”
“That was not on Children’s BBC. What have you been watching on your computer?”
Pip rolled over and picked at a loose thread in the duvet. “Well if it’s not a date, and you don’t fancy her, why don’t you just wear jeans and a T shirt?”
“Because…” Poppy stared at the ceiling. Seconds ticked by, but no excuse made itself apparent. “Just because.” And she returned to digging around in her drawers.
“Wear the cream dress then. The one which shows your boobs.”
Poppy flushed with embarrassment then indignation at the pubescent advice. “You can’t tell me to wear a dress that shows my boob… breasts. It’s inappropriate on so many levels.”
“So why do you own a dress that shows your boobs, sorry breasts.” The cheeky smile on Pip’s face was triumphant.
“Right. I’m going to wear a polo neck.” And Poppy dived into the drawer full of woollens.
Pip groaned and slapped a hand over her face.
A tap at the front door triggered near hysteria in Poppy. “What’s the time?”
“Five to eight,” Pip replied.
“Oh god. How did I waste an hour and not manage to get dressed?”
“Well…”
Poppy raised her hands. “I know. Just…”
She realised she was still dressed in a T shirt, knickers and one sock. She tugged off the old T shirt, revealing an extreme push-up bra, and scrabbled through the drawers for something, anything, to wear.
Pip rolled her eyes then heaved herself off the bed with an impressive teenager “tut”. “I’ll go and talk to her.”
“Wait.” Poppy grabbed her sister by the arm. “Don’t…”
Don’t tell Rosalyn that Poppy had been fretting over clothes for the last hour and was dressed in lacy lingerie and one red sock. And don’t tell her Poppy was gay or that her last not-date was more than three years ago. Or ask Rosalyn if she was gay, or whether she fancied Poppy, or anyone else for that matter. Oh god, the list was long.
Poppy shook her head. “Just behave. Please be good.”
“Of course. What do you think I am?”
“A pre-teen with loose lips and a mischievous streak as wide as Nain.”
Pip gave her naughtiest smile. “I’ll mainly be good,” she said and she skipped out of the room and clattered down the stairs.
Poppy peeped round the corner. In the open doorway, she could see a pair of canvas shoes and shapely legs dressed in jeans.
“Hi Pip. Is Poppy home?”
“Rosalyn. Would you like to come in? Poppy will be down in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
“I like your T shirt and jeans.” Pip shot a brazen grin up the stairs to Poppy.
Rosalyn stepped into the hall and followed Pip’s aim. She paused when she met Poppy’s gaze. “Hi,” she said, a keen smile on her face.
Poppy waved around the doorway, keeping her outfit safely from view.
“I wondered if you fancied a walk.” Rosalyn said. “It’s a beautiful evening and I haven’t been up Moel Gwyrdd for years. What do you think?”
“
That sounds lovely,” Poppy said. Her voice was strained, an unfortunate consequence of stretching her head out of the door horizontally. She tried to nod but the effort at the unusual angle resulted in a bizarre rotating head.
“She’s trying to choose something to wear,” Pip said in a knowing way.
“Uhuh.” Rosalyn still only had eyes for Poppy.
“I think she should wear the dress which shows her boobs.”
“Excuse me?” Rosalyn looked at Pip.
“The cream one—”
“Pip,” Poppy growled.
“The one with the neckline down to the bra—”
“Pip. I’m warning you.”
“You must have noticed. I’m sure you did the other day. Even Mrs Morgan—”
“Pip!” Poppy leapt onto the landing, ready to pounce on her sister. Then rather wished she hadn’t. She not so surreptitiously covered the elaborate knickers with one hand and used the other to quieten her breasts which jiggled at the top of her uplifting bra. The underwear was clearly not appropriate for an energetic walk up the hill and a not-date. The one thick red sock, however, was perfect.
“Come like that if you want.” The smile on Rosalyn’s face was broad and devilish.
“I will be with you presently,” Poppy said and did her utmost to make her side-shuffle into the bedroom as dignified as possible.
There was no time to lose. It was a matter of seconds before Pip said something inappropriate at best and mortifying at worst.
Poppy raided the rejects pile for her trusty T shirt and slipped it over her head. A soft pair of jeans, long ago split at the knees, were deemed appropriate after all. But the other red sock proved elusive and minutes later Poppy padded down the stairs, one blue, one red sock at a time.
Pip and Rosalyn’s shadows fell across the open doorway and laughter floated in the air. It was wonderful to hear them chatting, but at the same time terrifying. Poppy hung back watching the pair natter.
“Poppy never does anything wrong.” Pip had a sulky expression on her face.
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Mum never has a bad word for her, and Nain is always telling me how ‘Poppy never used to do that’ or ‘Poppy always did her homework, revised, tidied…” She petered out with a grumble.
“Well, your nain’s being selective with the past. There’s a naughty side to your sister.”
“Really?”
“You know how your nain turns beetroot when she’s cross.”
Pip giggled and nodded.
“Well there’s a shade of fury beyond that.”
“Really?” Pip looked both in awe and horrified.
“Ha. You see. You haven’t been naughty enough to see it. Poppy has.”
“What did she do?” The glee in Pip’s voice was delirious.
Rosalyn lowered her voice and leaned in. “Lied about staying the night at my house.”
“Tut. That’s not exactly rebellious is it?”
“She was fourteen and wanted to see Lucifer Jones at the Fridge in Shrewsbury.”
“Who’s Lucifer Jones?”
“Oh some half-rate goth band your sister used to like. She loved everything from Siouxsie and the Banshees to The Cure”
Pip curled up her top lip in disbelief. “Really? I’ve never seen any photos of her dressed like a goth.”
“She was a poor excuse for one. You should have seen her. Dressed all in black, with serious dark makeup, but with her shining girl-next-door smile. Hopeless.”
“Wow. So that’s what she listens to with a silly look on her face.”
“Probably.” Rosalyn laughed. “Anyway, your nain wouldn’t let her go. ‘I’m not letting a beautiful young girl like you go to a place like that.’”
Her impression of Nain’s musically indignant accent was perfect. “‘There’ll be lads drinking. And after the devil’s drink there’s not much on a man’s mind apart from sex. Not much before either. But certainly not after a pint.’”
Pip covered her mouth but couldn’t stop her shoulders shaking. “Did she go?” Pip asked between sniggers.
“Oh yes. I suggested we claim we were staying at each other’s houses and thumb a lift to Welshpool for a train.”
Pip tutted. “So you led her astray. I knew it wouldn’t be Poppy’s idea.”
“That is as may be. But I’m not the one who bought ten Cinzano and lemonades.”
“She got drunk?” Pip looked shocked, appalled and pleased at the same time.
“Uhuh. And I’m not the one who was so squiffy I got lost in a loo cubicle and couldn’t find my way out.”
The smile on Pip’s face had broadened into ecstasy.
“I’m not the one who clung to the condom machine for support after being released from the cubicle.”
Pip giggled.
“And I’m not the one who pocketed strips and strips of condoms when the machine crashed off the wall and spilled over the floor.”
“And Nain found out?”
“We managed to get back to Poppy’s room without your nain or parents noticing. And we would have been fine, but there was a trail of blown-up condoms from Wells to your front door.”
“Oh, Poppy.” Pip said the words with slow and delicious relish.
“And reports of your sister singing ‘I fucked a priest and my god I’m in love’ in the square.”
Pip’s sharp intake of breath was audible even at a distance. “But she never swears.”
“Well that’s the power of Cinzano and mediocre goth rock for you.”
Poppy stomped outside, her hands on hips. “Have you quite finished?”
Rosalyn and Pip wore the same expression – mischievous delight.
“The one time I get horribly drunk and you tell my impressionable preteen sister all about it,” Poppy said in despair.
“I don’t think it’s going to lead her astray, Poppy.”
“Really?”
“Pip.” Rosalyn turned to the girl in exaggerated seriousness. “Do you want to see your nain so enraged her face not only turns purple, but has a disturbing grey tinge?”
Pip’s eyes were saucer wide and she shook her head.
“There.”
“Hmm.” Poppy wasn’t convinced.
“Although it should be noted you drank an inadvisable amount of alcohol more than once.”
“At school? I mean, obscenely drunk?”
Rosalyn flushed, and seeming to think the better of it dropped the subject. “Are you ready?”
Poppy tied a jumper around her waist and was about to say yes when she spied Rosalyn’s small rucksack. “How far are we going?”
“Not far, but we could stay until dark to see the meteor shower.”
“Oh, can I come?” Pip started bouncing on the spot.
“No. You need to finish your homework and get an early night.”
“Like you did when you were younger?” Pip arched an insolent eyebrow.
“See what you’ve done?” Poppy accused Rosalyn who only laughed.
“Sorry Pip, I’m afraid Poppy’s right. She always finished her homework. She was the biggest swot. You won’t catch her out on that.”
“Go on,” Pip whined. “I’ll catch up tomorrow.”
“No, Pip. It’s an evening for me and Rosalyn.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t a da—”
“No!” Then Poppy softened her tone. “You have school tomorrow and you need sleep.”
Pip did a scowl the envy of either a two-year-old or a fifteen-year-old, Poppy wasn’t sure which, and her sister sloped inside.
“See ya, Rosalyn,” Pip muttered.
When Poppy turned to Rosalyn, she had the feeling she’d been observed a while. Rosalyn’s face had a healthy outdoor glow and her eyes sparkled.
“So, Poppy Jenkins, it’s just you and me.”
“Yes,” Poppy replied, “you and me.” And her stomach did a full-floor gymnastic routine.
Chapter 20.
They amb
led along the stony lane beyond the Jenkins’ house and followed the incline to the Green Hill. The grassy peak with crown of beech trees was the highest point of the valley, a beautiful vantage point for appreciating the lush undulating landscape.
It had been a favourite haunt of theirs. They’d scampered around its ancient trees and slid down the slopes on cardboard boxes, the kind of activities that Pip dismissed as kids’ stuff now, but that Poppy had found new joy in when her sister was younger.
“Sorry about Pip. She’s a bit precocious at times.” How quickly she was growing up.
Rosalyn smiled. “Seems normal to me.”
“She’s obsessed with boyfriends and relationships at the moment.”
Rosalyn laughed. “Also normal for that age.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and especially around here. Kids grow up fast. Don’t you remember what it was like?”
Poppy frowned. “How do you mean?”
“No cinema, no public transport, nowhere to go even if there was a bus. There’s nothing but local pubs where they turn a blind eye to the underage, so they get drunk and have sex.”
“I didn’t,” Poppy said. “And Pip certainly isn’t.”
Rosalyn looked serious “Won’t be long though.”
“Really?”
“I didn’t either, but I never fitted in. But remember Dafydd Evans? He lost his virginity when he was, what, twelve or thirteen?”
“Twelve?” The number was punched from Poppy. “I suppose he was mature and as tall as the teachers, but twelve?”
“Some of the girls were the same.”
“Twelve,” Poppy mused, horrified. She shuddered, realising it was only a year away for Pip. She shook her head. “Twelve.”
“I was late at sixteen, and it wasn’t because of lack of inclination. I just never clicked with people round here.”
Poppy flinched at the memory. She’d known exactly when Rosalyn had lost her virginity – the Christmas skiing trip after which Poppy’s life had never been the same. She tried to push the memory aside and soon her panic at Pip’s rising maturity flooded her consciousness again.
“Twelve though.” Poppy stared with disbelief. “I wasn’t anywhere near ready at twelve. Wasn’t I still running around in trunks because I didn’t need a bikini?”
