by David Belbin
Rachel used to come here all the time with her father, when she was six. That was just after he and Mum first separated. Dad couldn’t think of anywhere else to take her. They’d walk. He’d try to talk to her. Eventually, he’d give up and they’d go to the little playground down the hill.
This afternoon, the place was nearly empty. Beyond the park’s trees, the city’s suburbs spread out before them. Two tall blocks of flats both broke the picture and gave it perspective. A deep red sun was setting over Nottingham. Blood-coloured blotches stained the clouds.
They turned away from the wide open spaces and walked back to the gardens. There were gaps in the hedge which bordered them. The couple eased through one into a secluded area of scrub which backed on to some houses. They were almost hidden. Without speaking, they embraced again, and again, and again.
“We’ve got to keep this so secret,” Mike told her.
“I know,” Rachel assured him.
“I don’t even know where we can meet.”
“We’ll find a way.”
“I’m crazy about you,” Mike said. “You know that, don’t you?”
Rachel planted a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. “I do now.”
The sun was nearly gone and a cold wind was getting up. Rachel checked her watch. “I’d better go,” she said. “If I’m not in when Mum gets home, she worries.”
They walked slowly back to the car, huddling up to each other. Mike drove back. This time, Rachel directed Mike the quick way to her house. They parked round the corner, on a side street. Mike got a piece of paper out of his jacket and wrote his address and phone number on it.
“Phil often goes out in the evening, to his girlfriend’s. Sometimes he stays the night. He’s usually gone by eight, if he’s going.” He hesitated. “The phone’s not private. If I pick it up and say ‘wrong number’, you’ll know he’s in and I can’t talk. If he answers, hang up.”
“And what if you’re free?” Rachel asked.
“Make some excuse to get out of the house. I’ll collect you. We can go back to my place.”
“I don’t know,” Rachel said, her mind still reeling from how quickly this was happening. “It’s hard for me to go out late unless Mum knows where I’m going in advance. Can’t you find out when Mr Hansen’s definitely going to be out?”
“I can,” Mike said. “But it might be a few days. I can’t wait that long.”
“Me neither,” Rachel said.
Mike’s hand crossed the gear stick and squeezed her leg. He was breathing heavily. Rachel steeled herself. She had dived into the deep end and now she was coming up for air. She unhooked the seatbelt and opened the door. Mike gave her a smile which he probably meant to be reassuring.
“We’ll work it out,” he said.
She gave him a glowing smile and he drove off, at speed. Rachel turned the corner and let herself into the empty house, her heart leaping.
Seven
By the next day, Rachel had learnt most of her lines. She knew them nearly as well as Nick knew his. The words kept reminding her of Mike, the day before.
Good night, good night! she read. Parting is such sweet sorrow That I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.
As Nick read his final lines, Rachel glanced over at Mike. He was staring at her. His head gave a tiny movement, the smallest of shakes, and she knew that they couldn’t get away with him giving her a lift home. Her mother was at another governor’s meeting tonight. There were a lot of extra ones this term, for some reason. Rachel wanted to see if Mike could come round for an hour. It shouldn’t be too dangerous if he parked his car on a side street and came down the back alley. But she couldn’t tell him.
When the rehearsal was over, Nick walked home with her part of the way.
“You were good,” he told her. “I wasn’t sure you would be, but you are.”
“Thanks. So were you.”
“I wondered ...”
He slowed down. Rachel sensed what he was going to ask and wished that he wouldn’t.
“Yes?”
“Whether you’re doing anything this weekend. There’s a film I really think you’ll ...”
“It’s not a good idea,” Rachel said.
“I meant as friends,” Nick said. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?”
“Of course we are,” Rachel said, slowly. “But it’s still not a good idea.”
“All right,” Nick said, sullenly. “See you.”
He turned up the hill, leaving Rachel to walk home alone. Rachel felt sorry for Nick, but not for long. As soon as Mum went out, Rachel rang Mike. Mr Hansen answered the phone. Rachel hung up. She wouldn’t see her English teacher that night. The frustration was almost too much to bear.
In Friday’s lesson, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. It was weird, being able to see, but not touch or kiss him. Rachel was worried that Mike would change his mind, decide that seeing her was too dangerous. She tried to linger at the end of class that day, but Ms Howard was there, observing his lesson. After school, Rachel rang his home again, at four-thirty. This time, Mike answered.
“I’m sorry,” he told her. “You’ve got the wrong number.”
“I miss you,” Rachel said, and hung up.
She decided she was falling in love with him. She’d thought she loved Carl, last summer, but that feeling didn’t come close to this one. Rachel felt a new confidence, a new excitement, like she was reaching for a piece of magic: something she’d heard about, but never believed in before.
Rachel was at her father’s that weekend. She and Mike would be within walking distance of each other. Maybe they could arrange a date for Saturday night, if they could work out somewhere that they wouldn’t be spotted. But Rachel couldn’t get through to tell him where she’d be.
On Saturday morning, Rachel took the bus to Dad’s. The Shogun wasn’t in the drive and Rachel thought for a moment that the family was out. She had a key, but wasn’t sure if she could remember the code to the burglar alarm. However, when she rang the doorbell, Dad answered it.
“Where is everybody?” Rachel asked.
“Clarissa’s taken the kids to her mum’s. She said to tell you she’s sorry, but her mother’s been ill and …”
“It’s OK,” Rachel said, though she would have liked to see the children. It had been weeks.
“Are you going out tonight?” Dad asked.
“I don’t think so,” Rachel said, hedging her bets. “But I promised to ring someone up. Why, did you have plans for us?”
“Nothing special,” Dad said.
They ate lunch together. Her father was a good cook. He made pizza with fresh anchovies and sundried tomatoes. They had a mixed green salad on the side, which Rachel helped prepare. She noticed that the balsamic vinegar in the dressing cost over a fiver. Dad put Hellman’s reduced calorie mayonnaise on the table. At home, she and Mum still used salad cream.
“Actually,” he said, “I have a favour to ask you.”
“Go ahead.”
“You know it’s Valentine’s day on Tuesday?”
“Sure.”
“You’re not doing anything or seeing anyone at the moment, are you?”
“Not really.”
Dad looked gratified. “I wondered if you’d babysit for us, then. You know, Clarissa’s been a bit down lately, and I’d like to take her out for a romantic meal, the works.”
“Fine,” Rachel said, unable to believe her luck. She prayed that Mike was free.
“We won’t be back till late. I’ll get you a taxi, or drop you off at school in the morning.”
“I’ll stay the night,” Rachel said.
“Great. Usual overnight fee.” Dad paid more if she stayed the night.
“Fine.”
“One other thing ...” Dad poured Rachel some more Aqua Libra. “I’ve got to pop out for a couple of hours this afternoon - a colleague with a crisis. Do you mind awfully?”
“No,” Rachel insisted. “I have lines to learn, and loads of sch
oolwork to do. I’ll go up to my room.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Stay out as long as you like.”
The minute he’d gone, Rachel rang Mike. He answered on the second ring.
“It’s me. Can you talk?”
“I can,” Mike said. “Where are you?”
“I’m at my Dad’s,” she said. “In Mapperley Park. He’s out for at least two hours. Can you come over, now?”
“Try and stop me.”
“Hurry,” she urged, and gave him the address.
Ten minutes later, he was there. The teacher wore torn jeans and a scruffy sweater. He hadn’t shaved. For a moment, they were like awkward strangers.
“I parked the car down the road,” he said. “This is a bit of a contrast with your mum’s place, isn’t it?”
“Dad’s upwardly mobile,” Rachel told him. “Why don’t we go upstairs?”
He followed her. Rachel felt more nervous than she’d ever felt about anything. But he was older. He would know exactly what to do. While waiting, she’d changed into a brown skirt of Clarissa’s which unbuttoned down the side. Clarissa would never know. Beneath her cashmere sweater, Rachel wore no bra. She closed the door behind them.
“It was such a rush,” Mike said, as they fumbled off each other’s clothes. “I didn’t bring anything with me. Have you ... are you ... safe?”
“It’s fine,” Rachel lied.
It wasn’t fine. But Rachel didn’t know how to talk about sex. Certainly not how to talk about it with a man. Especially an older one. Rachel hadn’t planned this. She didn’t carry condoms in her purse, like some girls at school. Maybe Mike could go out and buy some. But she’d already lied, said she was safe. It would be so embarrassing to admit it now, and they were both so excited. She didn’t want to stop ...
It was all right, Rachel rationalized. This first time, she didn’t want anything between them. She began to pull off his jeans. Then they were both naked, embracing. The feel of his body against hers was as exciting as she’d imagined. Rachel was ready for what they were about to do. Even so, Mike found it awkward to get inside her. They kept kissing and whispering endearments to each other, but Mike seemed embarrassed and Rachel didn’t know how to help him.
Then they were doing it. Rachel had been expecting it to hurt, and it did, but she was surprised by how quickly it was over, how messy the whole thing was. Afterwards, Mike held her very tightly. He kept whispering, “I can’t believe this is happening.” Neither could she.
When they’d dressed, they still had some time. Like new acquaintances, they talked about groups they liked and concerts Mike had been to. They discussed films and TV shows and places they wanted to visit. The only thing that they avoided talking about was school. Then they were standing inside the door, getting ready for him to go. Rachel told him about Tuesday night.
“That’s wonderful,” he said. “What time shall I come?”
“Both kids are usually asleep by half-eight,” she said. “Dad and Clarissa won’t be back before half-eleven. Why don’t you come at nine to be on the safe side? Then we’ll have a good two hours.”
“Great,” Mike told her.
They kissed again.
“God, Rachel,” he said. “You’re so beautiful. You make me feel so lucky.”
“Me too,” she said, stroking his face before he left. When he was gone, Rachel tidied her room, returned Clarissa’s skirt, then took some books downstairs to make it look like she was working there. Rachel felt strangely calm. She was a woman now. Mike hadn’t told her he loved her, and she hadn’t said the words to him. Yet. She didn’t want to push her luck, to scare him off. He’d been uneasy, Rachel knew, when he realized that she was a virgin. She didn’t want to remind him how young she was.
Suddenly, for no reason that she could think of, Rachel found herself crying. She had a good weep, then cleaned herself up and was happily making notes for a history essay when Dad came in, three and a half hours after he’d left.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Becky said, as they walked into school together on Monday morning. “Unprotected sex and a one-night stand ..
“Afternoon,” Rachel corrected.
“What on earth were you thinking of?”
“He was cute,” Rachel said.
She’d made up a story about a boy she sort of knew, who lived near her dad, and how he’d come round to her house on Saturday afternoon, while Dad was out.
“Are you seeing him again?” Becky asked.
Rachel shrugged. “I think he has a girlfriend.”
“He told you that?”
“There was a photo in his bedroom.”
“Wait a minute, I thought you were in your bedroom.”
“We were,” Rachel improvised quickly. “But I’ve been in his bedroom before. We didn’t do anything then.”
Becky sighed. “How old is this guy?”
Rachel thought about telling Becky he was Mike’s age, but decided she might find that a bit gross. Anyway, Rachel didn’t know exactly how old Mike was. For obvious reasons, they hadn’t discussed ages.
“Nineteen, twenty ... he’s a student, home for the weekend.”
“Then he ought to know better,” Becky said, sternly. “I’m taking you into town after school today.”
“What for?”
“The morning-after pill.”
“It’s already two mornings after.”
“I think it still works. Weren’t you listening in those social education lessons last term?”
Rachel had to confess that she wasn’t.
“So go on then,” Becky said. “Tell me.”
“What?”
“Tell me what it was like.”
Rachel told her. That was why she’d made it all up, so that she could share the real experience with her friend. For better or worse, they were equals again.
There was no rehearsal after school that day. During the English lesson, Mike barely looked at her. They would have to be even more careful now. Still, Rachel couldn’t take her eyes off him. The class had finished reading the play through, and were going over various scenes in detail.
“Why do Romeo and Juliet fall in love so suddenly?” the teacher asked, then proceeded to answer his own question. “Some people argue that they’re destined for each other. A case can also be made for their romance as youthful rebellion: subconsciously, they want to show up their elders and the stupid feud between the two families. Then there’s the romantic view: love at first sight.”
“What about the lust theory?” Becky suggested. “They fancy each other like crazy and can’t wait to start bonking?”
People laughed. Rachel waited, curious to hear Mike’s reply to that one, but he only smiled. There was a hint of alarm in his face. He was worried that she might have told her friend their secret.
After school, Rachel and Becky took the bus into town. They often went shopping in the city together on Saturdays, but today was different. Rachel was very nervous, but tried not to let it show. Becky led Rachel to the Safe Sex Centre in Hockley. It was an advice centre. They had posters for it in school. Becky had been going there since Christmas. It was really relaxed, she promised.
A bell rang as the girls went in. Rachel got a fleeting impression of the place. It had pink doors and grey carpets. There were endless leaflets about HIV and AIDS. Posters reminded Rachel why she’d come here. How do you like your eggs in the morning? asked one. Fertilized or unfertilized? There were several about condoms. Condom sense is common sense. 101 uses for a condom. A black and white poster showed a naked couple embracing. And she’s too embarrassed to ask him to use a condom? it said. Reading the words made Rachel feel rather foolish.
Less than half a minute passed between the bell ringing and a woman in casual clothes coming out to greet them. Without asking why they were there, she ushered the girls up some stairs and into a private room.
“How can I help?” the nurse asked, when all three of them were
sitting down. At first, Rachel was too embarrassed to say anything.
“Is it one of you,” the nurse went on, “or do you both need some help?”
“It’s her,” Becky said. “I’m already registered here.”
The woman gave Rachel a sympathetic smile. “Take your time,” she said.
“I want the morning-after pill,” Rachel said, slowly.
“You’ve had unprotected sex?”
Rachel nodded.
“When?”
“Saturday afternoon. Is it too late?”
“No,” the nurse told her. “You’ve got up to seventy-two hours for after-sex emergency contraception - that’s what we call it. Now then, why don’t I take a few details? I don’t need your name, but I do need a date of birth.”
Rachel worried. When they found out that she was only fifteen, would they refuse to help her? But the date of birth turned out to be for the centre’s statistics, not the law. The nurse gave her instructions on taking emergency contraception.
“You’ll need to come back in six weeks for a check up,” she finished. “When you leave, we’ll give you a card with a number on it. You should bring it every time you come here. OK?”
Rachel nodded. “Will you give me the pills here?”
“No. You’ll have to go to the Teenage Family Planning Clinic for a prescription. But, first, there are a few things I’d like to go over with you.”
The nurse gave Becky and Rachel a demonstration about how to use condoms: putting them on, taking them off, not using flavoured ones for penetrative sex, and not flushing used ones down the loo because they didn’t degrade.
“I don’t want to use condoms,” Rachel said. “I want to go on the pill.”
“Why?”
“It’s more reliable.”
“It is if you remember to take it,” the nurse told her. “The clinic can sort that out, too, but we don’t recommend that you use the pill alone. It’s too easy to make mistakes, and catch sexually transmitted diseases. There’s no cure for HIV, no sure way for you to tell who’s got it. What we recommend is belt and braces: the pill and a condom. That way, you’re much less likely to get pregnant. Tell me, are you in a steady relationship?”
