Amy

by Mary Hooper

  All these things were going through my head as we walked along, chatting and laughing about everything under the sun, and gradually I stopped panicking. This was what having a boyfriend was all about – about being on your own and getting to know each other, about making allowances and about finding out how the other one ticked.

  Anyway, we were getting on all right and I liked him. He was really nice.

  Section 8

  Recording resumed at 3.30pm after short break

  We walked out of town, past all the shops and houses and several car parks, with the road on our right and the sea on our left. The sand became light and dusty here and started to be tufted with coarse patches of grass, then a bit further on it changed into proper sand dunes, the grass and sand forming itself into little mounds and dips, then bigger hills and valleys. It was rather bleak, a bit like I’ve always imagined it would be on the moon, and the sea seemed miles away; as if you’d have to paddle out for ages before you got to it.

  ‘I really like it up here,’ Zed said. ‘You don’t get people venturing this far. Hardly any tourists.’ He grinned. ‘Having said that, some weekends a nudist colony meets here and they go down on the beach and play volleyball. You ought to see them! Not a pretty sight!’

  ‘I can imagine,’ I said, giving a shudder. ‘I saw a TV programme once and they were all old and huge with their bits bouncing about.’

  He laughed and I saw the horrible tooth again. The sun was out again now, but because the dunes were on higher ground there was a light breeze which gusted the sand around.

  ‘Are you going to have a swim?’ Zed asked. ‘Brought your bikini with you?’

  I shook my head. ‘Swimming baths only, me. I hate swimming in the sea.’

  ‘Ever since you saw Jaws?’

  I giggled. ‘No, it’s the jellyfish and all those little bits and pieces you find in seaweed. I’m always scared of standing on something.’

  ‘We’ll just eat, then. And chill a bit.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘It’s quite high pressure in that office; we have targets to meet, and God help you if you don’t make the figures. I’ve got a great team of men, though. Do anything for me, my men.’

  We sat down. He selected the spot. It was in a dip in the ground and quite sheltered, with waving weeds and grasses growing in the sand all around us. When we were sitting in it we couldn’t see anything except sand and sky.

  He took the top off the cool box. He’d got a really good picnic for us: prawns and salad sandwiches, crisps, cheese biscuits and a piece of cold pizza.

  ‘All your favourite things,’ he said. ‘See, I’ve been taking note of your likes and dislikes.’

  ‘You have!’ I said, realising he’d done just that. My boyfriend is really thoughtful. He remembers everything I like when he’s choosing our food.

  After we’d eaten all the savoury stuff, he got out a chocolate mousse in a plastic tub. ‘I know you like chocolate,’ he said. ‘I don’t. I’m having a lemon one.’

  He peeled back the foil top and handed it to me. ‘Is it OK?’ he asked as I took a big mouthful. ‘Chocolatey enough?’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said, licking my lips. ‘Lovely.’

  We had a can of fizzy drink between us and then he put all the bits and pieces back in the box. He said he had some food in there for later, and I think I saw a camera as well, though he didn’t mention it.

  After we’d eaten it seemed to get very hot – probably because we were in a bit of a sun-trap – so I took off my shirt and rubbed sun tan cream into my face and arms and shoulders. I felt a bit exposed in front of him just wearing the skimpy top because it was quite revealing and I didn’t have a bra on, but everyone wears those tops, don’t they? And if we’d gone swimming he would have seen me in even less. I asked Zed if he wanted some sun cream but he shook his head and said that he was used to the sun down there. I knew I should have phoned my mum, then, but I would have been just too embarrassed in front of Zed. Especially as I was supposed to be with Beaky.

  I took off my trainers and stretched myself out full length, pushing my toes into the sand. ‘This is gorgeous,’ I said. ‘I haven’t sunbathed on a beach for years.’

  ‘Are you going away on holiday later this year?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ I said. ‘I was supposed to be going with Bethany and Lou to a caravan. But I told you about the big row we had, didn’t I?’

  He nodded. He was sitting up and looking across the dunes. There was hardly anyone around, just seagulls and, some distance away, a child calling out for Mummy to come now.

  ‘They sound like they’re a couple of silly little twits.’

  ‘They are,’ I said. ‘Anyway, my mum says that we – she and I – could go away together and my dad could mind the shop, but I don’t much fancy that.’

  ‘You can come down here, if you like.’

  ‘Me and my mum?’ I said, surprised.

  ‘Not your mum! I meant just you,’ he said.

  ‘Well, I’ll see,’ I said awkwardly. Catch Mum letting me have a week away with him! ‘I’ll probably have to work a lot in the holidays. Winter or summer, people always want their fruit and veg.’

  ‘Fruit and veg?’ he said, straight away. ‘I thought your mum and dad’s shop was a deli.’

  I sat up again. ‘Oh!’ I said, feeling myself go red. ‘I forgot I told you that. Sorry. If I meet anyone new I always say it’s a deli, just because it sounds better. I didn’t mean to lie to you or anything.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ he said. ‘Everyone tries to make themselves sound a little bit more interesting than they really are, don’t they?’ He grinned. ‘I expect even I’ve told a few porkies along the way.’

  ‘I didn’t realise at the beginning that we were actually going to meet each other.’

  ‘The rule is, if you’re going to tell lies you should write them down. That way you remember them.’

  ‘That’s the only one I’ve told. Honest!’ I said, lying back down again. I wondered about the flat he said he owned but couldn’t be bothered to ask him about it. It might spoil the atmosphere – and anyway, it was only like me pretending we had a deli.

  He clicked the cool box lid shut and laid down beside me. Our arms touched all the way along their length, and our legs touched from the knees downwards. The atmosphere was quiet and still, but all my nerves were on red alert, waiting. Was he going to kiss me? Did I want him to kiss me? The answer to that was, of course, why not? He was my boyfriend and that’s what boyfriends did.

  I lay like that, waiting … waiting … for I don’t know how long. I wondered if he’d fallen asleep. What would I do if he had? Should I make the first move – kiss him? But suppose he didn’t like me like that, just wanted me as a friend. Suppose he was gay? Just my luck, to get a boyfriend who turned out to be gay.

  The sun grew hotter and I began to feel muddled, like you do when you’re about to fall asleep. Far off, I heard someone laughing and it mingled with a gull’s cry and echoed round my head. I stirred, yawned and turned onto my tummy.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked. So he wasn’t asleep. ‘Do you feel all right?’

  ‘I’m just tired,’ I said, as a sudden wave of weariness hit me. I yawned again. ‘It must be the sun, and we walked quite a long way this morning, didn’t we?’

  ‘Do you want to get up and go for a paddle? It might wake you up.’

  ‘Yeah … that would be good. Wake … ’ I struggled to sit up, rolling onto my side, but couldn’t seem to manage it. ‘Too tired,’ I muttered.

  ‘Never mind,’ Zed’s voice came soothingly. ‘Just lie back and sleep. Close your eyes again.’ His hand began to stroke my arm rhythmically. ‘It’s OK. Just go to sleep, Babes.’

  So I didn’t think about going paddling or anything strenuous like moving, just allowed my eyelids to close so that I could drift off into nothingness.

  Suddenly, somewhere to the side of me I could hear a mobile phone ringing. My mobile phone. I struggled to sit up, and the earth a
nd sky wheeled around me dizzily. I flopped back on the sand again. I couldn’t be bothered. Let it ring.

  ‘Shall I get it for you?’ Zed asked.

  I started. I’d forgotten he was there! Forgotten where I was altogether, actually. ‘In my rucksack,’ I muttered, remembering.

  He found it, pressed the answer button and handed the phone over to me. It was Mum, of course.

  ‘Everything all right? Get down there OK?’ she asked.

  ‘’Course,’ I said.

  ‘Only you didn’t ring me.’

  Struggling to come to, I lifted my wrist in order to see my watch. The figures swam and blurred before my eyes. ‘What’s the time, then?’

  ‘Gone five o’clock. What’s wrong with your watch?’

  ‘Nothing, I … ’ Five o’clock! We’d got down here about one-thirty, it had taken us under an hour to eat, so I’d been sleeping for nearly three hours!

  ‘I tried to ring you a while back, but your phone was off. I told you to keep it on.’

  ‘It has been on,’ I said. ‘I haven’t touched it. You must have misdialled.’

  ‘I didn’t!’ she said. ‘I tried two or three times.’

  ‘Well, whatever.’ Mum wasn’t known for her IT know-how.

  I looked across at Zed, who was watching me curiously, as if he was waiting for me to do something. He delved into the cool box, pulled out a can of coke, took the top off and offered it to me. I held up a finger for him to wait just a moment. ‘I’m OK, anyway,’ I said to Mum. Was I? I felt really peculiar: half awake and half asleep, half aware and half in a dream. ‘We’re on the beach and the sun’s ever so hot. I think I fell asleep for a bit.’

  ‘OK. As long as you’re enjoying yourself. Getting on all right with Serena, are you?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Don’t forget to get to the station in plenty of time.’

  ‘Yeah, OK.’ I struggled to make sense of things. Three hours! I’d never slept for three hours in the day before.

  ‘And get a taxi from our station. You can share one – drop her off first.’

  ‘Yes, Mum. Bye!’ I said.

  I put down the phone, took a deep breath and tried to sit upright.

  ‘Hang on!’ Zed made a grab for me, holding me tightly around the shoulders as I swayed, lost my balance and began to topple over again. ‘Take it slowly. Have a few swigs of cold drink. Maybe you’re dehydrated.’

  ‘That … that must be it,’ I said. ‘I feel … funny. As if I’m drunk or something.’

  I’d only ever had too much to drink once in my life, at a Christmas party at Bethany’s house eighteen months ago. I’d had cider and wine and – when no one was looking – some of her dad’s whisky. I’d felt awful. I hadn’t gone through a nice, funny stage like they do on TV, messing around, giggling and saying funny things, but straight to the sick as a pig, wish I was dead stage.

  ‘I’ve got a headache,’ I said dolefully, blinking in the sunshine. I groped around for my sunglasses and put them on.

  Zed put a cool hand on my forehead. ‘I’m really sorry,’ he said. ‘I should have woken you earlier. You’ve probably been lying in the sun for too long. You just looked whacked out, though – as if you needed a snooze. And then I think I must have fallen asleep myself.’

  I gulped at the drink, then lay back down again. Three hours! I was glad I’d slapped on lots of sun lotion. I blinked several times, trying to pull myself together, and wriggled bits of me from the toes upward, curling and stretching my legs as if I was in an exercise class. I felt so stupid! Fancy going to sleep for hours and hours – and then waking up and feeling like this. What a waste of a day. What would he think? He hadn’t even kissed me yet. Was it too late for all that now?

  I took several deep breaths and then sat up again, very slowly. ‘It’s OK,’ I said. ‘I think I’ll be OK now.’ My head thudded painfully all down one side. ‘There are some headache pills in the bottom of my rucksack,’ I said. ‘D’you think you can get them for me?’

  Zed passed them over and I took two, swallowing them down with coke. And then I felt a wave of nausea and was immediately sick on the sand.

  If I’d been embarrassed before, I was desperate now. Being sick was hardly the sort of thing you were supposed to do on a first date. What would he think? Everything had gone wrong. I’d blown it completely.

  My nose was running and I felt tears of misery come to my eyes, but Zed just handed me over a paper napkin and patted my shoulder. ‘Poor you,’ he said.

  I made an effort to cover the sick with some handfuls of sand. ‘Sorry,’ I mumbled. ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me.’

  ‘No. It’s me who should be sorry. I should have woken you,’ he said. ‘I had no idea the sun would have this effect. I think you’ve got a touch of sunstroke.’

  I breathed in and out, slowly, slowly, concentrating on telling myself I felt better. I leant against him and his hand stroked down my back, soothing me gently. I closed my eyes and when I opened them again another hour had gone by. I stared at my watch in astonishment: I must have fallen asleep again.

  ‘I planned that we’d go for a meal,’ Zed was saying, ‘but I don’t suppose you feel like it now.’

  I shook my head. ‘I couldn’t.’ I could hear that my words were slurred. ‘Sorry. I’d better go home.’

  ‘No matter,’ he said. ‘Next time you come down I’ll book us somewhere nice.’

  So at least he wanted me to come down again, in spite of everything. I tried to feel pleased about this, but I felt so woozy that I couldn’t have cared less either way.

  ‘I was just wondering whether it was the sandwiches rather than the sun. That maybe you’ve got food poisoning or something.’

  ‘But you had exactly the same things to eat as I did.’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah, I did – apart from pudding. And whoever heard of chocolate mousse making anyone ill?’

  I looked at my watch – I could focus my eyes on it now – and saw that it was nearly seven o’clock. ‘How long will it take to get to the station?’ I asked.

  ‘About half an hour if we go the quick way,’ he said. ‘Or I could go and get a taxi, if you like.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ I’d have loved a taxi, but I didn’t like to say so or make any sort of fuss. Whatever had happened, all I wanted to do was get back. I didn’t really care about what he was thinking any more, I just wanted home, wanted to sink between the sheets in my own bed, close my eyes and feel perfectly, perfectly safe.

  Section 9

  Recording resumed at 4.30pm after a short break

  ‘Is that you, Amy?’ Mum called in a low voice.

  ‘’Course it’s me,’ I said, looking round Mum and Dad’s bedroom door. It was barely eleven o’clock but they were always in bed by that time on a Saturday because it was their busiest day of the week. ‘I’m really tired and I’m going straight to bed, OK?’

  The soft grunting of Dad’s snoring filled the room. I had three more steps to my bedroom, three steps to beautiful quietness and safety.

  ‘You two got on all right, did you?’

  I started for a moment, and then realised that of course she meant me and Beaky.

  ‘Yeah. Fine.’

  ‘No little niggles or rows?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s good. Goodnight, love.’

  ‘Night!’

  I went into the bathroom and rubbed a bit of toothpaste round my mouth to get rid of the stale taste, then went into my room.

  Home. My bedroom. I’d never been so pleased to see it. I wanted to creep under the duvet and not come out for years and years. The journey home hadn’t been too bad – I hadn’t been sick again – but I still had a headache and just the weirdest, spaced-out feeling inside me. As if something strange and unknown had happened. As if I’d lost three hours of my life somewhere.

  I kicked my trainers across the room, then took off my jacket and creased-up shirt. As I was getting out of my skirt, I noticed some
thing odd – that my white sun top was on back to front: the little label that was supposed to go at the back was there in front of me. I thought it was a bit weird, I was sure I’d put it on the right way round that morning, but I couldn’t be bothered to think about it just then.

  Would Zed and I see each other again? Did he really like me? He’d said we must meet up again soon, and he’d given me a funny sort of kiss goodbye outside the station, so I suppose he still liked me. It hadn’t been a kiss on the lips – I probably whiffed of sick – but at least it had been a kiss. Right at that moment, though, looking at my bed, I didn’t care about things like that, or even about him. I just wanted to get undressed and get under my duvet.

  I got into bed, let my breath out in a sigh and tried to make my limbs go weak and relax. It was difficult, though. Maybe I was just stressed, I thought. Maybe the anticipation and tension of meeting him, and then the sun-sickness or whatever, had taken it out of me. I’d feel better after a good night’s sleep.

  Of course, what happens when you’re at your absolute tiredest – so tired that you feel practically ill with it? You can’t sleep.

  I lay in bed, tossing and turning and going over the events of the day: meeting him, seeing his office, doing a tour of the town and walking across the strange wasteland that was the sand dunes. And then I thought about that peculiar, long sleep. Everything went round in my head, churning about and getting muddled, and in the end I got my Walkman and put a chill-out disc on. Eventually that must have done the trick, because the next thing I knew I was wide awake again and my clock was telling me in glowing figures that it was four in the morning.

  I wasn’t sure what had woken me, but I was awfully glad it had, because I’d been in the middle of a horrible dream.

  I’d dreamt that I’d been in the sand dunes and was lying, stark naked, on the hot sand. I was awake, but so tired it was difficult to keep my eyelids open. When I could force them open I couldn’t see at first because the sun was right in my face and blinding me, but when I eventually managed to focus, I saw that Zed was bending over me and was, with great concentration, moving my arms and legs around, and arranging my limbs into different positions. He was naked, too, and he was smiling slightly, pleased with himself, showing his uneven, decaying teeth and the ugly Dracula eye-tooth set high into his gum. When he’d posed me to his satisfaction, and arranged my hair, he’d got a camera out of the cool box and begun taking snaps of me from every angle. Occasionally he’d move my leg or lift my hand and place it somewhere else on my body, and then he’d smile at me slowly, satisfied, and take another picture.