by Jacky Gray
“Possibly. Part of the reason I knew the Tallulah so well was from having to coach Luke through it all. He worried about forgetting his lines or missing his cues, so we went over it again and again, almost every night until the show.”
“Well, it paid off. When you think how wooden he was playing the Duke a few months ago, to put in a performance like …”
“Absolutely. But the thing is, Liam taught him a lot of it. He might not have done drama, but he’s stood on stage in so many bands, he really knows his way round stagecraft.”
During Kat’s entire explanation a thought orbited Liv’s brain. As she swallowed the last mouthful of yogurt, it pounced. “Maybe he’s just taking his cousinly duty seriously and looking out for you.”
“Except he’s not actually a cousin; well, maybe a distant one. His dad is my Uncle Aidan’s brother, so not a blood relative.”
“Whoa. Run that past me again with pictures.”
Kat tried again. “My mum’s sister married his dad’s brother.”
Liv was none the wiser, and said so.
“Basically, he’s my cousin’s cousin. But when you’re over there, it’s like everyone’s everyone’s cousin.”
“Sure an’ I’m sure it is. Well, that’s it then. He fancies you rotten and is jealous of Luke.”
“Rubbish. He knows full well Luke is going out with Jude ...”
“I know, I was only kidding. Hasn’t he made any friends at college?”
“He mentioned a couple of the lads getting a band together, but I’ve not heard much about it.”
“As soon as he finds something else to occupy his time, he’ll stop bugging you.”
“I think there may be more to it, but we’ll see.” Kat’s wobbly face suggested more worries, but her words said not now as she changed the subject. “What was so important at break you had to dump me?”
“First I’ve got a question. You know this daft feud between your brothers and the Dark Angels; is it still going on?”
“It wasn’t daft; they were a nasty bunch.”
“Yeah ok, I’m sorry.” Liv back-pedalled, but the flare in Kat’s eyes said she wasn’t yet fully forgiven. Tact didn’t come easily. “Are they still spitting blood every time Jimmy Proud’s name comes up?”
“Funny you should say that. Last week Paddy mentioned something about the little prat turning into a halfway decent human being. Why?”
“What made him change his mind?”
Kat told her about an incident in the chippy where a new lad gave Paddy the change from a ten-pound note instead of a twenty. When an argument broke out, Jimmy stepped forward and suggested the owner should look at the serial number of the top note. It matched the ones of the two twenties in Paddy’s wallet – he’d just got them from the cashpoint.
“The owner gave him the extra tenner and Paddy was well pleased. Why do you ask?”
Liv told her about the meal on Sunday, the rose, the letter and the ride home. She explained how Jimmy had made a fool of Diana for her sake, and ended with his invitation to the sixth form disco.
“Wow. He certainly seems to have changed. Or he’s just snowing you.”
“You might think that, but I spoke to Sarah Turnbull in the sixth form and Mr. Clare, the English teacher. They both vouched for him.”
Kat gazed at her for a moment or two, her eyes glazing over as though tuning in to an internal discussion. She gave a little shake of her head. “Are you going to go? It’s only a week on Saturday.”
“I’m not sure. I think I still need to sleep on it.” For whatever reason, Liv hadn’t told her about her initial meeting with Jimmy in the poolroom, and she gave a little shudder. It was only because her memory hadn’t fully returned, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to plant any false ideas in her friend’s mind.
12 Knight in Tarnished Armour
Liv’s dilemma took a back seat the next morning with the return of the sporty duo, full of the previous day’s events.
Jude explained how the government had allocated lottery money to focus on kid’s sporting achievements. They wanted to cash in on the success of the recent Olympics to encourage international standards. She passed round leaflets they’d been given and the gang studied them.
Potential Olympians
Do you run, jump, swim, play football, rugby or tennis?
Have you got what it takes to ADAPT?
Attitude: Are you willing to make sacrifices?
I don’t care what they say anymore, this is my life
Diet: To build muscles, stamina & flexibility
High protein, low-sugar, lots of fruit and veggies … varied
Ambition: Single-minded Commitment
We are the Champions … of the World
Performance: You are nothing without an audience
Every game you play, every race you run, they’ll be watching
Training: The right kind, as often as necessary
Jogging or biking in the snow and the wind and the rain
Jude still buzzed with the energy of it. “They’d put a lot of effort in; all the key points were done as songs to help you remember them. The performance one was set to the Police’s ‘Every Breath You Take.’ Listen:” She sang the words. “Every game you play, every race you run, every goal you score, or record you break, they’ll be watching.”
“Always supposing you know the tunes. Apart from the Queen one, I have no idea.” Liv didn’t want to rain on her friend’s parade, but ...
Nothing could put a dent in Jude’s enthusiasm for the scheme. “The first one’s Billy Joel, the second …”
“Hang on, Police, Queen, Billy Joel.” Liv winked at Kat and Terry. “The sort of stuff our parents listen to. They should use modern tunes if they want kids to take notice.”
Backing Jude up, Luke gave her a quick hug. “I thought it was good, even if we didn’t know the songs.”
“It worked for me.” Without missing a beat, Jude moved on to explain how each of the chosen representatives from schools all over the country had to fill in a questionnaire about their attitudes and weekly routines.
Luke’s expression clouded. “I wasn’t sure about some of the questions though. I think I’m out before I even start.”
“Like what?” Terry’s tone said unlikely.
“Like: Would you break the first date with a new girlfriend or boyfriend to go to an extra training session?” Luke slid a glance at Jude.
Kat winced. “Tough one. What did you put, Jude?”
Liv watched Jude’s expression flit to the poster, the walls – anywhere but Luke. Finally, she spoke. “We aren’t supposed to talk about the questions ’cos they’ve still got a session to go for kids in the North.”
“Oh, come on, Jude. Who do we know up there?”
Lenny appeared, flustered because she was late. She fired off the register in double quick time, then ploughed straight into the maths lesson. At the end, she kept Liv and Carla behind. Something had gone wrong with one of the demonstration programs and she wanted to show it to a visiting governor. As they examined the source, Liv spotted a directory owned by Ray with some copies of the data files. They copied over the ones they needed and it started working again.
“Strange how it keeps getting corrupted. Must be a fault in the program. Good job Ray took a backup copy.”
“Yeah. There’s a copy of the program in there as well. I think he was trying to debug it.”
“Shame he’s not here to tell us how he’s doing with it. But thanks very much you two; I’d never have guessed the names.”
“Only Ray could have called his directory FUBAR.” Liv dearly hoped Lenny wouldn’t look up the acronym, glossing over it quickly. “It’s kind of a computer techie joke; he gets it from his dad.”
“I’m sure it is. I used to think I knew my way round these things but you lot are always showing me new tricks. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.”
Helping Lenny at break meant Liv didn’t have time to p
ost the letter in Jimmy’s locker. She felt a small pang about Ray’s absence. Chemistry dragged much more slowly without him, and her mind soon wandered to the predicament which wanted to claim her attention. The longer she focussed on it, the more she became convinced she’d made the right decision. The tiny regret about not having a quick chat with Luke soon became swamped by the certainty this relationship was meant to be. Nothing Luke could say would change her mind after the glowing testimonials from all the others.
Near the end of the lesson, the note burning a hole in her bag beckoned, and she sneaked a peek, quite proud of her attempts to produce a cursive script.
“By all the vows that ever men have broke,
In number more than women ever spoke,
In that same place thou hast appointed me,
To-morrow truly I will meet with thee.”
Although not exactly accurate, at least it gave him the sense of her answer; his knowledge of the bard meant he’d work it out easily. She sighed at the amount of effort she’d expended just to say yes to a date. After a fruitless search of Mr Clare’s website, she’d randomly searched a book of plays and found the quote in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
A glance at the clock said less than five minutes to go, so she surreptitiously packed everything but the text book away. Lady Luck decided she could skip out of chemistry as the bell rang for lunch.
The science block was right next to the sixth form building. She held the door open for a student carrying a huge cardboard box, squeezing in before the door closed. Acting as though she belonged there, she sauntered through to the locker corridor and slid the note into 315.
“What do you think you’re doing sneaking around the lockers?”
She jumped at the sound of an angry voice and turned to stare at her accuser. For a split second she stood, paralysed with shock, before finding her voice. “N-Nothing.” She stammered, sidestepping around him to see he’d been joined by two other lads, who looked similarly intimidating.
“Not so fast.” The first lad grabbed her arm.
One of the others approached with a menacing tone. “Stuff’s gone missing from these lockers. I reckon we’ve found our thief.”
“No … I haven’t touched anything.” She shrugged out of his grasp.
“I watched you messing with one of the lockers. Don’t lie to me.” The second one yanked at her, forcing the bag to fall off her shoulder.
She scanned around, looking for a way out. “I just dropped off a note for someone. He asked me to ... “
“Who was it?”
“None of your business.” Liv immediately regretted her instinctive flash of defiance as he tightened his grip and shoved her against the lockers, making her gasp in shock.
“I’m making it my business. Tell me his name.”
The third one spoke. “Hey I know her, it’s Tallulah. It could be just about anyone, the way she was acting.” The look on his face showed exactly what sort of girl he thought she was.
“What the hell’s going on here?” Jimmy appeared, pulling them off her. “Are you ok, Liv? You look dead pale.”
Her legs felt wobbly and she stumbled forward.
Jimmy caught her, snarling at her tormentor. “What have you been doing to her, Stafford? I’ll skin you alive if you’ve hurt her.”
“But we thought ...”
“Save it.”
Liv had never heard this vicious tone in his voice and she shuddered.
His manner changed completely as he hugged her to him. “Come on, you need to sit down before you collapse.”
“No, I’m ok. I got a bit dizzy; I need to eat something.”
“Right, then. Let’s get you to the dining room.” He pointed to Stafford. “I’ll sort you lot out later.”
He gently propped her against the lockers while he opened 315 to stuff his bag in. The note fluttered out and he caught it, putting it in his jacket pocket without a glance. Then he picked up her bag and took her arm, gallantly opening doors and generally showing a level of concern she wasn’t used to. When they reached the dining room, he suggested barging in at the front of the queue, but she protested. He took a firm tone.
“You need to eat right now. I don’t want you passing out on me.”
“I won’t. I feel fine and I can definitely manage to wait a few minutes. I think it was more the shock of being caught and called a thief.”
“I’m really sorry about that. I should have realised when I told you to stick it in my locker. I guess I was kinda hoping you’d phone me.”
They selected their meals and she glanced around for the others.
He caught her arm. “Would you mind sitting with me today? I know you usually sit with your mates, but I want to talk to you. In private.”
“Ok. There’s a free table.” She pointed to one of the few tables with only two seats, so they could guarantee no one would overhear.
He led her over, then attacked his meal like a starving man.
She took the opportunity to clear two thirds of her plate before becoming aware of his gaze.
“So, do I get to go to the ball?”
“You’re supposed to read the note.” Part of Liv was shy of telling him outright, the rest of her wanted to tease.
He looked at her for a while as though trying to decide whether to play along or not. With a sigh, he shook his head, taking out the envelope and ripping it open. His eyes narrowed as he reread the lines, and his attention turned inward.
Chewing a forkful of tuna pasta bake, Liv watched in dismay. Surely he could understand the message, if he was the student Mr Clare had made him out to be?
“No, can’t quite remember.” He shook his head. “It could be Midsummer Night’s Dream. Hermia or Helena, to Lysander or Demetrius. Or possibly Much Ado ...”
“Right first time. I’m really impressed; you must know your stuff really well.” She speared a tomato and a bunch of green leaves.
“Not really, we’re doing it at the moment. It’s in the first act I think.” A slow smile spread across his face. “I’ll take it as a yes then, shall I?”
She nodded, taking a gulp of water to help swallow the salad. “Only if you promise to drop it with Stafford and the others; they’re not worth it.”
“Yeah, but he shouldn’t have been so rough; no need for that at all. He needs telling.”
She nodded. “True. But only telling, nothing more.”
His face hardened, a sure sign that he intended to do it his own way.
For once, she took his hand, using touch to emphasise her concern. “I couldn’t stand it if you got caught fighting over me.” Her gaze bored into his. “They didn’t hurt me, and I survived.”
He squeezed her hand, his grin rueful. “You’re a tough little cookie, it’s one of the things I love about you.”
At the mention of the L-word, Liv felt as though she was suffocating. Her cheeks and skin reacted in what was becoming a familiar routine of tension and heat.
He brought her hand up to kiss the tips of her fingers, then returned it to her with a wicked gleam in his eye. “When you blush, you look so cute I could eat you.”
She giggled, lowering her eyes to fix them on the tray in front of her as she hissed her rebuke. “Stop it. You’ve got everyone looking at us.”
He bent closer. “Rubbish. But if you want, I could give them something to look at.”
Realising his face was close enough to touch, she pulled back, her heart doing wild things as she remembered his last kiss. “No way, not here. People are already saying nasty things about me after Tallulah ...”
His harsh tone reappeared for an instant. “Yeah, I heard what the slimebag said about you.” With a sigh, he sat back and studied her. “It’s not right someone as pretty as you should be so smart and sexy, too. What chance do we poor blokes stand?”
“Spare me the silver-tongued charm; I do have a mirror you know.”
“And what I wouldn’t give to be that mirror, seeing your lovely face and fanta
stic body every morning.”
“Now I know you’re just quoting lines from a poorly scripted film.” She nibbled a small portion of cheese-covered pasta.
“My lady, you have mortally wounded me. I am but a poor wordsmith trying to express the deep affection I hold for such a truly wondrous maid as yourself.”
Another sip of water. “Ok, you win. I take back the poorly scripted bit. You are just pure flummery.”
“Ah, no. I’m gonna hafta look it up now. I can’t stand to have a bird more well-read than I am.” He reached for his smartphone.
“Insincere compliments. Did you call me a bird? How old are you?”
“Sorry. Babe, then.” He relocked the display and pocketed it. “I’ve been spending too much time with Hamish, one of the chefs. He’s stuck in a time warp; still thinks it’s the seventies. All women are birds to him.”
“Interesting company you keep.”
“Apart from being the biggest MCP out, he’s an absolute craic. Don’t take no shi – sorry, lip – from no one.” He turned his attention back to his food, devouring the remaining pie and mash.
Liv suppressed a smile. Her cheeks were back to normal and she was thoroughly enjoying his flattery, insincere though it may be. Something in his gaze made her feel like the most special person in his life. But he was a mass of contradictions.
Swallowing the last mouthful, he stacked his knife and fork neatly, catching her gaze. “What?”
Wickedness curled the corner of her mouth. “Just wondering who gave the ‘big, tough gang-leader’ a love of words so deep he has to look them up.”
He pushed the plate to the edge of the table, his eyes closing as though in physical pain. “I have a confession. I lied when I said no one as smart as you took me seriously before.”
She stiffened in here-we-go jealousy.
“I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but in year six, I was a total terror.” He paused while she did the suitably unimpressed face. “Miss Bates was the assistant head in charge of recalcitrant kids, and I had a series of lunchtime detentions with her. She made me look up three words in the dictionary and write the meaning and a sentence with them.”
