by Susan Lewis
“You were never like it with your father, only me,” Kay informed her.
Jenna avoided her eyes. Not nearly as difficult as you always were with us, she managed not to say.
“Ah, that sounds like Jack coming in,” Kay remarked. “I’ll go and give him a hand.”
Watching her bustle off to make herself useful, Jenna found herself feeling suddenly sad. Having Kay as a mother, with all her awkwardness and lack of social skills, had never been easy, but that didn’t mean there was no love between them. She knew, mainly because her father had helped her and Hanna to understand, that in her own special way her mother was every bit as devoted to them as he was. It was simply that Kay had never been able to show her feelings in the way other mothers could—or wives, come to that, although her father had remained silent about that. All she and Hanna knew was that he’d always seemed very happy with their mother, and throughout the thirty years they were married they’d never spent much more than a night apart. And a very real intimacy must have happened at least twice, or she and Hanna wouldn’t be there.
Looking round at the sound of the utility room door opening, she broke into a smile as Jack emerged, dark hair mussed by a vigorous rub with the towel, and cheeks still reddened from the wind. Though it would be hard for most to describe him as TDD, as Paige would put it—totally drop-dead—Jenna had never had a problem with that. As far as she was concerned, he was just perfect, with his wonderfully flamboyant air, constantly merry eyes, and the kind of charm that stole hearts wherever he went.
“So have you seen any of what we shot?” he asked, hauling the dog back as it made a dash for anywhere but the utility. “You have to wait in there till you’re dry,” he instructed Waffle. “We got some really good stuff again, and she’s a natural with the commentary.”
“She’s gone to have a bath,” Jenna told him. “I’ll see it later. Who were you on the phone to?”
“When? Oh, just now.” He came to help himself to a cake and gave her a quick kiss before popping it in his mouth. “I’m thinking of going over to Cardiff again tomorrow,” he said, hovering in the doorway on his way to take a shower. “I need to go to the bank, and while I’m there I thought I’d try to line up a few more advertisers. Anything you need while I’m over that way?”
“You mean apart from a few good ideas? Actually, one would do.”
“You can’t buy ideas,” Kay announced, drying her hands as she came out of the utility.
Treating Jenna to a playful wink, Jack took himself off upstairs, leaving her to watch her mother staring after him. “What?” she prompted as Kay turned back to her.
“He didn’t answer your question,” Kay informed her.
Jenna almost asked, What question? But since she knew, and really didn’t want to get into it with her mother, she simply said, “It wasn’t important.”
—
Upstairs in her room with butterfly lights glowing round the bed’s fancy headrail and the Vamps’ “Last Night” pulsing from the iPod speakers, Paige was in front of her computer, wrapped in her dressing gown while FaceTiming Charlotte.
“So did you manage to shoot much?” Charlotte was asking as she rubbed a purplish face mask over her troubled complexion.
“Yeah, loads. Have you finished yours yet?”
“No. I should have come with you, but then we’d have ended up with everything the same. So Owen showed up, you said in your text.”
Jenna sighed. “ ’Fraid so. I mean, I really like him and everything, but he’s so, like…you know. What’s that stuff you’re using?”
Charlotte held up the tube and read from the back. “Apparently it contains antimicrobial willow bark, mango, and blueberry to minimize blemishes and to clear away excess sebum.”
“Excess what?”
“Sebum,” Charlotte giggled. Turning around, she wiggled her bottom in front of the camera.
“I am soooo glad you’re wearing knickers,” Paige laughed.
“Be grateful. Oh my God! That reminds me. Have you seen the latest episode of The Valleys yet? It is totally insane. That girl—you know, the one who looks like Kelly Durham? I forget her name. Anyway, she only took her knickers off in the middle of a nightclub.”
Paige pulled a gagging face.
“Just what I thought,” Charlotte assured her, “but I can’t stop watching it. So, what are you doing later? Do you want to come over?”
“Would love to, but I’ve still got loads of homework to get through. Have you done the geography stuff about ecosystems yet?”
“Yep. You’ll sail through it, provided you get the answer to question one right, which is seaweed. English is more Dylan Thomas, so no problem for you there. Maths is going to totally fuck with your head, but when does it ever not? And business studies is starting to really piss me off. Let me know how you get on with all the crap about sourcing finance—I could do with some help.”
“Like I’m going to know.”
“Bet you do.”
“Yeah, right. So I’ll see you at the bus stop in the morning?”
“Worse luck. Let me know if you hear from Oliver before that.”
Paige’s insides melted to liquid. “Don’t,” she groaned plaintively. “No way am I going to hear from him. He doesn’t even know I’m alive.”
“Course he does.”
“Course he doesn’t, unless…Oh my God, Charlotte, you haven’t told Cullum? He’s his brother. He’ll—”
“Give me a break! Would I do that to you? I’m just saying, I reckon he’s interested.”
“He’s eighteen.”
“And?”
“And he’s going out with Lindsay French.”
“I heard he’s chucked her. I’ll try to find out.”
“No! You can’t ask Cullum!”
“Is that what I said?”
“You don’t know anyone else to ask, and if Oliver finds out we’re, like, stalking him…Oh God, I’ll want to kill myself.”
Laughing, Charlotte said, “I’ve got to go and wash this stuff off. I’ll speak to you later.”
As the line cleared, Paige dropped her head in her hands and groaned again. Oliver. Oliver. Oliver. She could hardly stop thinking about him. It was like she was becoming obsessed, and she’d never even spoken to him, for God’s sake. Had only really seen him twice. He’d noticed her, though, last Saturday, when a crowd of them had gone to support the Swansea College rugby team against Worcester. He had looked so totally drop-dead in all his gear that she’d nearly fainted.
Maybe she had, because she couldn’t remember anything that happened after he’d caught her eye.
Chances were he’d been looking at someone behind her.
Or maybe he’d spotted her and something had happened for him too. He might, even now, be wondering who she was, trying to think of a way to ask his younger brother about the girl he’d brought to the game….
She had to stop thinking about him, get him out of her mind before she ended up making a total idiot of herself. He was three years older than her, for God’s sake, and was so completely out of her league that it would be like pairing Zayn Malik up with Ugly Betty. Not that she was anything like Ugly Betty, who in real life was a total babe, which she definitely was not. Besides, there couldn’t be a girl alive who didn’t have the hots for Oliver Pryce; he could have his pick of anyone, and though it made her want to die just to think of it, she knew in her heart that he’d never choose her.
Remembering her bath, and feeling a dizzying rush of excitement at the thought of Oliver coming to watch her, she was about to get up from the computer when someone instant-messaged her.
Hey. Can you talk?
Frowning, she looked at the name. Julie Morris. She couldn’t think of anyone called that. I’m cool. Do I know you? she typed back.
Is it true about you and Owen Masters? the sender asked.
Paige frowned as her pulse started to drop back to normal. Tell me who you are, she typed back.
I’m a fri
end.
But I don’t know your name. Do you go to The Landings?
Yes.
Which year?
Same as you.
So Julie Morris isn’t your real name?
I’m not supposed to go on chat rooms and stuff so I’ve made up this name in case my parents check. Long story. Will share if we become friends.
Intrigued, Paige asked, So why do you want to know about Owen?
Just interested. Do you like him?
He’s OK. I think you should go out with him.
Whoever this girl was, she obviously didn’t realize Owen was gay, and no way was Paige about to tell her. He’s not really my type.
So who is?
That would be telling.
Does he go to our school?
No. Do you have a boyfriend?
No. Thanks for the chat, have to go now.
Paige blinked as the connection ended, and started going through everyone she could think of in her year who could be Julie Morris, but couldn’t come up with a single one who’d ever said she wasn’t allowed to go on chat rooms at home. On the other hand, the girl might not want to admit it to anyone, and Paige supposed she didn’t blame her for that. Whatever, it was the girl’s call, and since Paige could hear Josh and the twins running up the stairs shouting her name, she quickly shot into her bathroom and locked the door.
