by Anna Bloom
Freddy’s steps falter, but he soon recovers and matches his pace to my own, his long legs somehow shortening their stride to my short stubby ones. “There’s not much to say, she got cancer, we all thought she’d beaten it and then six months later we were told she had three months to live.” His eyes turn to the tide and I ease him to a stop with my fingers, planting myself in front of him. His eyes storm over the grey sea, his generous mouth set in a determined line.
“I’m sorry, Freddy,” I say, although it feels totally lacking.
His eyes shift and focus on me. “My dad didn’t take it well, the thought of losing her drove him crazy, it broke her heart in the end, watching him tear himself into bits at the thought of life without her.”
I have nothing to say, so instead of saying anything substandard I just hold his hands and wait for him to continue. When he does, he holds eye contact with me. “It made me realise I wanted to find a love I would live for, a love that would consume me, a love I would question I could survive without.”
Still have nothing to say, at all.
He carries on anyway. “My brothers have gone the opposite way, neither of them give a shit about relationships, or family. Hell, Grant isn’t even here, let alone thinking about family.”
“Where is he?”
“Off somewhere, last I heard he was in Australia. And Henry, well, you met him. He just struts about being an arse, pretending not to feel anything. Pretending not to see the state dad is in.”
“But Henry works at the garage?” Dickwad in his suit must do something.
“Well, yes and no. He does sales but really that’s his way of trying to keep his inheritance in tact without admitting he knows jack about cars and fuck all about driving.”
“But you do?” I know he does, but I want him to tell me how deep his level of commitment to that firm goes. Deeper than family, a career he wants to do for himself, nobody else.
“Yeah, I know about cars. I was sharp at school, aced everything, and yes, I know I sound like a twat, but it was cars I loved. I took my first engine apart when I was five. Of course, I couldn’t put it back together again, and dad was as mad as shit when he found out.” He laughs at the memory, his eyes still dancing despite the heaviness in the air between us.
“And the driving?” I’m still not comfortable with the beautiful boy standing in front of me driving at high speeds around racetracks.
“It was the next logical step.”
“Logical? Are you crazy?”
Freddy leans down and graces me with a lingering kiss. “About you, yes.”
“Bah! You softy.” I laugh, but really I’m glowing inside. My anticipation of the next few hours increases ten fold in the pit of my stomach. I grasp the wool lapel of his winter coat in my fingers and tug him closer.
“Well, you know,” he laughs with his words. “I hope one day I will find that love I'm looking for. Guess I’ll just have to keep searching.” He raises his voice and calls out to the sea, shouting over the top of my head. “She's not here, she must be out there somewhere.”
“Come on, special one, lets go and eat, I’m starving.” It was the next step in his plan for the day, which means fire comes next. A flicker of flame kindles in my stomach as I slip my hand into his. The thought of what comes after fire creates a turmoil of scorching anticipation and fearful trepidation, as we make our back over the sand to our temporary home for the next two days.
PLAYING HOUSE
The house is cloaked in darkness when we return, our booty of bottles of wine clinking in plastic bags.
I’m giggling as he opens the door. I have no idea what I am giggling at, but I think extreme nerves are causing it.
During our meal of fish and chips, I’ve made myself feel physically sick at the prospect of spending the night alone with Freddy. I’m pretty sure I’m going to chuck up on him as he flicks the light switch and the dusty house illuminates.
“You okay?” he asks, a frown creasing between his brows.
“Yep.” I daren’t say anymore due to the rising vomit.
A small tick lifts the corner of his mouth but he doesn’t say anything. Gently, he frees a lock of hair from under the confines of my wooly hat and runs his fingers down the length of it. “Fire?” His eyes dance with his question.
I almost glance down to see if I have in fact caught fire. I wouldn’t be at all surprised.
“Can I go and get changed?” I feel all uncomfortable and trussed up like a Christmas turkey. It’s not helping the sick feeling and the butterflies that are making it hard to breathe.
Freddy lifts one perfect eyebrow. “Into something more comfortable?” He’s teasing me, trying to get me to flush. There really is no need, I think even my big toes are blushing.
‘Yep.” I dash for the stairs and then spend ten minutes trying to calm the fuck down, making sure I don’t smell, and my hairy legs haven’t resurfaced before I return back to the front room dressed in my tracksuit.
Freddy bursts out laughing when he spots me mooching in. “Comfy?”
“Definitely.” I grab the wine he’s left open to breathe and sit myself in front of the fire he’s got going while I’ve been sniffing my armpits upstairs and layering myself in body spray.
Half a glass down, the heady red wine and the heat of the fire are making me feel much more relaxed. I’ve gone as far as to put my toes against his without upchucking over myself. Actually, the butterflies have settled in the pit of my stomach but I’m sure they are just luring me into a false sense of security; anything more than toes touching and they will be back with a vengeance.
“So why were you standing in the street when I picked you up, you didn’t tell me?” He takes a deep sip of wine with his question.
“Because my mum told me to remember to bring contraception.” Okay, I may have had more than half a glass of wine.
Freddy starts to choke on his mouthful. When he’s recovered he takes another sip. “She’s quite blunt, your mum, isn’t she?”
“She said she didn’t want me to come home with a mistake. I assumed she mean’t knocked up.”
“Nice.” His fingers brush against mine, and a butterfly flaps it's wings.
“I thought so, hell, I can’t wait to get away from that woman. She drives me crazy.”
“Where are you planning on going?” he takes another sip out of his glass but his eyes are on mine, steady and deep.
“Furthest Uni I can find,” I say.
“I used to want to go away and study.” He peers into his glass like the answers to the universe may be found at the bottom.
“Well why the hell didn’t you?”
Freddy turns his attention away from the glass and on to the dancing flames of the fire. “How could I? Dad was in a state, the business was hanging on by a thread and I was the only person who actually knew how to do anything with a car.”
“So what, you're basically keep the place going?”
I’m starting to see more and more sides to Freddy, and so far there isn’t one I don’t like. I just thought he liked to get dirty under the cars, I had no idea he was single handedly keeping his dad’s business afloat.
“Henry wouldn’t agree.” He smiles at me and I grin back, my toes now comfortably on his knees and my body is slowly shifting across the rug towards him.
“Well why don’t you just go? Tell them you’re going to study and you will be back to help out as and when you can?”
Freddy laughs. “I can’t see that going down well.”
‘It doesn’t have to.” And then I say something so totally stupid I could shoot myself. “You could come with me? We could go somewhere together?”
A never-ending tide of silence washes between us while he contemplates my ridiculous suggestion.
“What, you and I living together, studying together, just like this?” He motions his hand to the house we will inhabit by ourselves for the next couple of days while we play at being grown-up.
My throat becomes
drier at the thought of us being like this everyday and more of the butterflies awaken and extend their wings in preparation of flight.
“Maybe?” I shrug in an offhand manner, like it really doesn’t matter either way.
“You wouldn’t want me hanging around, stopping you from talking to all the other boys.” He wiggles an eyebrow, which makes me giggle.
“What boys!” I blush, remembering Danni’s little outburst. “I don’t think I will be looking at any other boys at Uni or anywhere else.”
“Why?” He fires the question at me.
I’m slower with my response. I down my wine to the last dregs and carefully place my glass on the floor. Then moving onto my knees I shift myself until I am right in front of him, my hands resting on his knees. “Because of you, Freddy.” Then I lean in and kiss him, trying to put all the emotions and words I am too scared to say into my kiss.
His hands lift and slide along my back until they reach my hair and he deepens the kiss, making me feel like I’m drowning, as the wine mingles with desire. Gently, his fingers untangle from my hair and reach for me, pulling me onto his lap. I snuggle in, keeping my mouth on his as my own hands explore his broad shoulders and chest. It’s no good, I can’t feel shit. I tug at the edge of his hoodie, pulling it over his head, my fingers keen to get back to their prize. A t-shirt takes the next stand between my fingers and his skin. With an impatient tug, I pull the t-shirt off and lob it across the room, leaning myself into his chest. With a low murmur, his mouth never leaving mine, he swiftly unbuttons my shirt and runs his hands over my ribs, his thumbs sweeping wide, grazing the underneath of my bra. I pull back so I can make some form of eye contact with him. There’s something I need to say before I take it too far. Something important, I just need to remember it and not keep focusing on the feel of his warm skin under my fingertips.
“Freddy?”
His mouth moves against my neck, feather light flutters making my heart pound. “Only speak if it’s of life or death importance.” I feel his lips curve into a smile.
Damn it. I pull away and pretend to ignore the fact I am sitting there in just jeans and my bra. “I need to say this.”
With a sigh, he leans back onto his hands and looks up at me through blonde hair that’s fallen into his eyes.
My heart which is racing anyway, starts to beat at an uncomfortably loud pitch, each thud making my chest ache in a way I’ve never experienced before. “It’s just,” I stutter over the words I want to say. “It’s just I know you are looking for something, waiting for something, I don’t want you to feel like I’m expecting anything from you.”
This is like the very tip of the iceberg of what I want to say. What I want to say is I’m sorry I gave myself away to people I didn’t care about and not wait for a moment like this. I want to tell him I really want to be the one he is looking for, the one he trusts enough to be with. I want to tell him every thought I’ve ever had about him and the way I feel when he’s close to me, like my bones are melting, my skin's burning and my organs are beating just so I’m able to stand next to him and breath the same air as him at the same time.
A slow smile lifts the left side of his lips and before I can bumble out any other half baked sentiments, he swoops forwards and spins our positions so he is now on top of me, the fire roaring by our side. “Thank you for your considerate thought, Amber French.” His tone is teasing. “But I think you can stop worrying about that.” And then as the fire crackles beside us, our hands slowly learn the shape of each other and our mouths the taste, until finally it’s just him, and me, together. Later, as he pulls me into his arms and snakes them tight around me, our skin cooling along with the dying fire, I understand what that emotion is I’ve been feeling but unable to name. Love. First love.
JANUARY
“The fire alarm!” I clutch my hands over my ears and step back as Freddy waves a tea towel over the burnt bacon.
The fire alarm is screeching, but I’m far too short to do anything about it. Instead, I take the checked tea towel out of Freddy’s hand and start to wave it about while he reaches up and removes the battery from the fire alarm.
“You really can’t cook at all.” He laughs as he pecks the end of my nose. This is how it is now all the time, the two of us, together. We came back from our break, nearly a month ago, a different couple. Now we feel like a unit that fits together. That I can’t imagine not being together. I still do my study, he still works at the garage, of course we do, that’s real life. But now we take it in turns to stay at one another's houses at the weekend. He’s still not allowed to stay over during the week. I say allowed, what my parents don’t know really doesn’t hurt them. We don’t speak about the conversations we whispered in the dark during our time away, the conversations where we talked about dreams and futures and being together. Forever.
"And now I’m going to be late,” he adds, glancing at his watch.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m rubbish.” I tip the bacon into the bin, just ever so slightly concerned at what it may set light to in there.
‘Are you coming?” His fingers link with mine and he puts on his most adorable beseeching look. “I don’t want to go without you.” The ocean blues pin me in place and make it hard for me to say no.
There is an enormous frog in my throat, and my stomach is rolling like I’m sat on a boat. Freddy is racing today, and a, I don’t want him to, and b, I don’t want him to.
The weather's terrible, it’s been raining a nasty deluge for days, I’m convinced the race should be cancelled but Freddy assures me it’s fine, they just change the tyres to ones designed for wet conditions.
I’m not assured.
“I don’t think my nerves can take it. Anyway, I thought I was a distraction?” I tiptoe and plant a kiss on the first skin I can reach. His chin. Catching hold of my elbows, he lifts me up so I can kiss his lips properly.
“Are you worried I’m going to damage my dashing good looks?”
“Cocky,” I retort. “I’m worried you’re going to die.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, come on, we’ve still got to pick Danni up.” He grabs his keys and grasps my hands tight. “And yes, you are a distraction but I would be more distracted if you weren’t there.”
Try as I might, I can’t come up with an argument against that.
It’s freezing. Danni and I are stamping our feet to keep warm, both of us offering a despairing swear word every couple of minutes, I don’t know if we are expecting the expletives to warm us up, but it’s keeping us mentally stimulated which helps. The track is crowded, people shouting and bellowing over the roar of idling engines and excited conversation. The Bales are well known here judging by the amount of people who have greeted Mr. Bale already.
“Here you go.” Freddy’s dad comes towards us carrying two polystyrene cups. He keeps telling me, normally in the morning when I’m sneaking around his house, to call him Charles, but it doesn’t sound right to me.
“Thank you, Mr. Bale.” He frowns at my formality but doesn’t comment on it. Danni giggles by my side — she finds the dynamics of a serious relationship amusing and has told me repeatedly she’s glad I did it first so she can learn from my cock-ups. She finds my tales of awkward family meals with Freddy’s dad and brother hysterical, especially the time when I dropped an entire gravy boat all over the dinner table during Sunday lunch. I then offered to wash the table linen and shrunk it. It was Freddy’s mum’s best tablecloth.
“Bad thing to be late to a race, Amber.” A critical voice murmurs into my ear and I straighten my shoulders as I register the unfriendly voice of Henry Bale. He doesn’t like me very much and it has nothing to do with shrunken tablecloths. Every day he puts more pressure on Freddy, more responsibility, and longer hours. It’s the one thing Freddy and I get fractious about. I think he should tell him to stick it.
“Why’s that, Henry?” I say, not bothering to turn around.
“Freddy likes to check the car himself before he drives, he is
religious about it. Interesting the first time you come to a race he doesn’t get the chance to do it.”
He’s right, Freddy literally sprinted into the building leaving Danni and I to meander around until we found someone we knew.
“Surely the car’s been checked, though?” I ask, my chest tightening with the anxiety I felt earlier in the kitchen.
“Of course it has, he’s my brother, and I care about him.” Henry’s voice is mocking and I really want to punch the bastard.
I ignore my instinct to call him a twat and concentrate on trying to spot Freddy in the crowd. It doesn’t take long, soon I see him striding confidently towards me and my heart gives a little jump of pleasure. “Quick kiss before I have to get ready.” he wraps his arms around me tight and brushes his lips over mine.
“I have to say, now don’t let this go to your head, but you look very attractive in that suit.”
And Jesus does he. Freddy is sporting a dark blue racing suit, and it’s all trim and tucked in all the right places.
“Ah, so now she likes motor racing.” He laughs and kisses the top of my head. “I’ve got to go.”
I hold onto his fingers tight. “Go and check your car,” I insist.
Freddy’s eyes harden and he glances over my shoulder at Henry. “Don’t worry about that, my beauty.”
‘Okay, go and win then.” I offer him a wide smile that doesn’t release the knot of tension in my stomach.
Flashing me his cheeky grin, he nods his head. “Now that, I can do.” Then he’s gone and Danni links her arm through mine.
“Super cool,” she whispers. “Only I knew you wanted to throw up from nerves.”
“That’s alright then.” I grin back at her, but I tighten my arm around hers all the same.
After about fifteen laps I finally start to relax. The final piece in the Freddy Jigsaw clicks into place when it becomes apparent his gift with cars doesn’t end with building and fixing them. Watching him drive makes me believe he really is made of magic. He has a natural instinct for the race and manages to find gaps to pass his competitors where others would hesitate. Now he’s hanging back in second place, apparently taking it easy. “Isn’t he going to try and edge out in front?” I question Mr. Bale, grabbing his hand in excitement.
