Trust Me

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Trust Me Page 4

by Malorie Blackman


  It was like being punched in the stomach. I heard some anonymous gasps before everyone around me went deathly quiet. Pete sprang up, his expression furious. Shaking my head, I pulled him back down to sit beside me again. I turned to face Andrew, finding it hard to breathe, to even think straight. I’d told Andrew the real truth about my dad in the strictest confidence – how Dad had left us before the awfulness of his death – and here was his brother twisting my words and playing them back to me. I hadn’t even told Diane all the facts about Dad. Just the edited highlights. Several weeks had passed before even Mum and I could talk about it without one or both of us breaking down completely. Outside of my family, no one knew the truth, except Andrew.

  Andrew looked at me, regret clouding his eyes, seven shades of red painting his face and neck. Deliberately, I turned away from him to face Morgan.

  ‘You keep your filthy mouth off my dad. He’s . . . he’s dead now, so just keep your foul remarks to yourself,’ I said quietly.

  It was as if some almost unbearable weight had been placed on my chest, making each breath a painful effort. My fingers were stretched out so hard that not only the joints but my very bones ached. Sand, coarse and gritty, sat in my throat, choking me. Tears stung my eyes like merciless wasps.

  ‘Living on the other side of England wasn’t quite far enough away from you, then?’ Morgan said, enjoying himself. ‘Just dying to get right away, was he?’

  I leaped up. Morgan grinned at me, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. Before I could think about what I was doing, I slapped his face. The gleam vanished. He stared at me. I was dimly aware of my palm stinging and Andrew moving to stand in front of me.

  ‘Why, you—’ Morgan moved towards me.

  ‘Morgan, you deserved that. You were right out of order with that remark,’ Andrew said sharply. ‘I think you’d better go now.’

  I wished Andrew would move out of the way. My kneecap was itching to meet Morgan’s goolies.

  ‘You’d better keep that slag out of my way.’ Morgan jabbed his finger in my direction. I didn’t say anything. ‘You can thank your lucky stars that Andrew was here to look after you,’ he added to me.

  ‘I can look after myself,’ I told him.

  He glowered at me. I scowled back.

  ‘Watch yourself,’ he said quietly. And off he strode, followed by his sheep, who each directed a filthy look at me before they left the Burger Bar.

  ‘Did you have to do that?’ Andrew rounded on me in front of all our friends as soon as the door shut behind the last of his brother’s minions.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I frowned.

  ‘Don’t you think you rather overreacted? If only you two—’

  ‘Overreacted! Are you serious?’ I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  ‘Why let him get to you? You know what he’s like. If you ignored him or laughed at him the way I do, he’d leave you alone.’

  I stretched out my fingers again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pete slowly shaking his head at Andrew. At least someone was on my side.

  ‘Was I supposed to sit and smile while your brother bad-mouthed my family?’ I asked. ‘And thank you so much for telling him about my dad. It’s nice to know that you can be trusted to keep my secrets.’

  ‘Jayna, that’s not fair.’ Andrew moved towards me, his arms outstretched.

  I pushed his hands away, then without another word I turned and ran out of the Burger Bar.

  7

  THE NIGHT WAS dark and still. I raced into it, wishing it would swallow me up. The tears that had been stinging my eyes for release now clouded my vision and formed rivers down my cheeks.

  ‘Jayna, hang on! I’m sorry!’

  Andrew chased after me, but I didn’t stop running. Inside . . . inside I was bleeding.

  ‘Jayna, wait. I’m really sorry.’ He grabbed my arm and spun me round to face him. ‘Jayna, please. I just happened to mention it at home once. I didn’t know Morgan was going to twist what I said like that.’

  ‘And yet you blamed me for not humouring your brother when he started mocking me about how my dad died?’ I said bitterly.

  ‘I swear I didn’t mean it like that,’ Andrew replied. ‘I . . . I was just—’

  ‘Did you tell your family that my dad did a bunk to get away from us?’ I interrupted, brushing an imaginary hair out of my eyes. Andrew tried to take my hand in his. I pulled away angrily.

  ‘You know I wouldn’t say a thing like that,’ said Andrew.

  ‘Then what did you tell them?’

  Andrew took a deep breath. ‘I said your dad had left for a while but that he came back before he died.’

  ‘I see. And did you tell them how my dad died?’

  Andrew opened his mouth but nothing came out. He nodded slowly. ‘Jayna, I promise you . . .’

  I wasn’t having it. ‘I told you about my dad on the strict understanding that you wouldn’t tell anyone else, especially not your family.’ My voice cracked with hurt. ‘I trusted you. Why would you stab me in the back by telling Morgan of all people?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Andrew looked genuinely contrite but it was too little too late.

  ‘I’d never betray you like that, Andrew. I swear, I’ll never tell you another of my secrets.’ My words may have been quietly spoken but there was real force behind them.

  ‘Jayna, please. It won’t happen again.’

  Too bloody right. ‘I’m going home now.’

  ‘Jayna . . .’

  ‘I’m tired, Andrew.’

  ‘Jayna, please. I – I said I was sorry.’

  ‘And that makes everything OK now, does it?’ I regarded him stonily. ‘Sometimes, Andrew, I wonder why I bother with you. I’d be far better off with Pete.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ Andrew was furious. ‘Don’t ever say that.’

  ‘Why not? It’s true. You can’t keep secrets and you don’t consider my feelings at all. Sometimes when I’m with you, all I can see and hear is your mother and your brother. You weren’t found on their doorstep. You’re a Harrison all right.’

  I didn’t mean it, not really. At least, not all of it. I just wanted to lash out. But my words had the appropriate effect. Andrew drew himself up and became very still. Now we were both hurting. But his hurt didn’t lessen mine one iota.

  ‘I guess I had that coming,’ he said at last.

  I didn’t reply. I just looked at Andrew, and he looked at me. Moments turned into minutes.

  ‘So . . . are we still going on holiday this weekend or are you calling it off?’ he asked.

  I looked up at the silver moon, cold and remote. The peaceful, uncomplicated life I longed for seemed to be up there with it. Why was nothing ever easy?

  ‘Do you want to call it off?’ I prevaricated.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Andrew answered immediately. ‘I want to be with you, alone with you. And we both need to get away.’

  That was true. If I had any more days like this one, I’d go loopy. I’d never had a day like it. From the moment I’d woken up, all I’d had to do to start a quarrel was look at someone – and sometimes not even that much.

  ‘You shouldn’t have told your family about my dad,’ I sniffed. ‘I told you it was a secret.’

  ‘I know. I’m really sorry.’ Andrew drew his thumbs gently across my cheeks, wiping away the last of my tears.

  I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, drawing the cool night-time air into my overheated body. ‘So what’re we doing tomorrow and Friday?’ I looked around, anywhere but at Andrew.

  Andrew thought for a moment. ‘How about if I come round to your house tomorrow and talk to your mum?’

  He had my full attention now. ‘Talk to her about what?’

  ‘About our holiday.’

  I stared at him. ‘You must be joking!’

  ‘No, I think I should. I want her to know I’m serious about you. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I want her to know that.’

  ‘I don’t know . . .’ I said doubtfully
.

  ‘Leave everything to me,’ smiled Andrew. ‘And, Jayna . . .’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I really am sorry.’

  His remorse was genuine, so how could I stay mad at him? I dredged up a smile.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

  Then he kissed me. And just like always, I forgave him.

  The next day, Andrew came to see Mum just as he’d promised, or should I say threatened? We all sat down on the sofa and he brought out our itinerary and various maps. He went through every kilometre of our holiday until Mum knew more about it than I did.

  While she still wasn’t mad keen on the idea, I think Mum realized that come hell or high water Andrew and I were going away together. Andrew stayed at our house all day, in spite of the subtle and not so subtle hints I directed at him – like blinking and winking and kicking him in the shins under the dinner table. He ended up having lunch and dinner at our house, something he’d never done before. During dinner, I caught Mum reluctantly smiling to herself. She’s no fool and she knew what he was doing. But even so, Andrew’s gesture went down better than I thought it would.

  Later that evening, after Andrew had gone home, Mum came into my bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. I recognized the look on her face from the day before. She was going to talk about sex again. Why did adults of her generation and beyond have such a problem discussing something so normal and natural? Sex. Sex. Sex. The word didn’t scare me!

  ‘Jayna, I want to ask you something. And it’s not because I’m being nosy.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Are you on the Pill or something?’

  There was a moment’s silence before I answered. My damned face was beginning to burn again. ‘I decided to go for one of those contraceptive implants,’ I admitted.

  Mum came and sat down on my bed. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Since a month ago.’

  ‘Are you still a virgin?’

  Jeez! Embarrassing much? ‘Yes, Mum.’ My face was on fire. Hell! Stop sounding so defensive, I told myself.

  ‘Jayna, please be careful.’ Mum sighed. ‘I care about you. I don’t want to see you disappointed or hurt.’

  ‘I won’t be, Mum. I promise.’

  She looked like she wanted to say something else but didn’t know how. So in the end she decided to say nothing. She held out her arms, and after a moment’s hesitation I moved into them. We hugged – something we haven’t done in a long, long time. It felt strange, like a hug hello or a hug goodbye.

  ‘You’re not going to change your mind about the holiday?’ asked Mum.

  ‘No, Mum,’ I sighed.

  ‘You always were stubborn.’ She sat back and looked at me. ‘Once you’ve made up your mind to do something, I might as well go and waste my breath arguing with the wall.’

  ‘You always said my ears were stuck in my backside.’ I smiled faintly.

  ‘That’s what my mother used to say about me. And it sure applies to you.’

  ‘Now I know where I got my stubborn streak from,’ I said. ‘It’s inherited!’

  Mum raised a hand to lightly stroke my cheek. She sighed. ‘Parenthood involves too many painful episodes of letting go, of realizing your children are getting older and no longer need you.’

  ‘I’ll always need you, Mum,’ I said. ‘But what I need more than anything else is for you to be on my side.’

  Mum nodded. ‘Love, I’ll always be on your side. But I wouldn’t be much of a mum if I didn’t tell you when I think you’re making a mistake.’

  ‘D’you still feel that way about Andrew and me going away on holiday together?’ I asked.

  Mum shrugged. Not a ringing endorsement, but still progress – of a sort.

  ‘Mum, what would you have done if I hadn’t already been to the family planning clinic?’ I asked.

  ‘I would have marched you down there first thing tomorrow,’ said Mum briskly.

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘Did Andrew go there with you?’ she asked after a pause.

  ‘No, I went by myself.’

  ‘Next time, get him to go too. It’s his responsibility as well as yours.’ Mum stood up and walked to the door. She turned round and said softly, ‘Enjoy your holiday.’

  I couldn’t believe it. I’d won. I could go! Instantly, my eyes started stinging. I had to fight to control myself. I couldn’t let Mum see me cry. What would she make of that? I nodded. As she left the room, I wanted to call her back, to hug her and hold her and be her little girl again. But I kept silent. I wanted it both ways. Not possible. I was only just beginning to realize it, but I’d made my choice when I said yes to Andrew about going on holiday with him. There was no going back now, even if I wanted to – which I didn’t.

  I was going on holiday with my boyfriend.

  And it would be my chance to show him just how much he meant to me.

  8

  ANDREW CAME TO pick me up at about eight o’clock on Saturday morning. From the moment the doorbell rang, my heart tried to beat its way right out of my chest. Teegan said very little to Andrew, and Mum didn’t say much either, but it didn’t matter.

  I hugged and kissed them both and whispered in Mum’s ear, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll phone.’

  ‘Just make sure you do,’ she replied.

  Andrew helped me put on my backpack. I did up the buckles and turned back to Mum and my sister.

  ‘Bye,’ I said. It seemed so inadequate.

  ‘Bye, Mrs Lucas. Bye, Teegan. We’ll send you postcards from every place we visit,’ smiled Andrew.

  Mum nodded and turned away. Teegan watched, tears in her eyes. This would be the first year we hadn’t all gone on holiday together. Then Andrew and I left the house, and we were finally on our way.

  On the train, all the way down to the coast, I still couldn’t believe that we’d managed it. Even on the deck of the ferry, watching the British coastline disappear, I couldn’t quite take it in. This couldn’t be real, and yet it was happening to me! I raised my head, feeling sophisticated, mature. I was actually going on holiday with my boyfriend! And then I felt really childish for feeling sophisticated in the first place! I closed my eyes, smelling the salt air and feeling the brisk, cool breeze on my face. It was a beautiful day and it could only get better.

  ‘We did it, Jayna,’ whispered Andrew.

  I nodded happily. He put his arm round my shoulders. Then a cramp from hell doubled me over. I unbuckled my backpack and let it fall off my back, all in about three seconds flat.

  ‘I’ll be right back,’ I gasped, and bolted for the nearest ladies’ loo.

  My worst suspicions were confirmed. I’d thought that being on the implant would ensure that my periods were more regular not less. Got that wrong in a big way! I closed my eyes and leaned against the cubicle door, wanting to kick it in.

  ‘Jayna? Are you OK?’

  ‘Andrew?’ I unbolted my door. ‘For goodness’ sake, this is the ladies’ loo. Suppose someone comes in.’ I looked around anxiously.

  ‘Sod ’em. What’s the matter?’

  I looked down at my shoes, my heart pounding, my stomach aching. ‘I . . . my period has started. I’m at least a week early,’ I said, adding miserably, ‘Sorry.’

  ‘What are you apologizing for? How are you feeling?’

  ‘Cramp and slight backache, not as bad as usual. This whole holiday business must have wound me up more than I thought. And they did warn me that the contraceptive implant might initially disrupt my cycle. Plus it’s happened before. It also went haywire just before my exams.’ I was babbling!

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ Andrew smiled. ‘Do you want me to bring your backpack? I’ve left it just outside.’

  ‘No, it’s OK. I always keep a couple of tampons in my shoulder bag.’

  ‘I’ll wait for you outside.’

  I nodded. Andrew walked towards the door. ‘Sorry, Andrew,’ I called after him.

  He walked back t
o me. ‘Shut up, Jayna. It’s not important, I promise. I’m with you and that’s what counts.’

  ‘So you’re not disappointed?’ I frowned – I’d be upset if he wasn’t just a tiny bit disappointed.

  ‘Maybe just a little,’ he said ruefully. ‘But like I told you before, I can wait.’ And he kissed me, slow and deep.

  It would have been a long one as well, if some old biddy hadn’t chosen just that moment to walk into the loos. Andrew and I sprang apart guiltily. The woman, who must have been at least fifty, with dyed red hair and dark-brown drawn-in eyebrows, looked up at the sign on the outside of the door and then back at us.

  ‘Do you mind! These are the ladies’ toilets!’ She frowned.

  ‘I was just going,’ Andrew replied. And he scarpered past her.

  The woman looked at me. ‘I was young once too,’ she said. ‘But really!’

  ‘Sorry,’ I mumbled and went back into my cubicle.

  When I rejoined Andrew on the deck, he grinned sheepishly at me. We didn’t say a word, just fell about laughing. He put his arms round me and we kissed again, this time out in the open, so no unexpected interruptions. I was so happy. This was going to be the best holiday of my life.

  I could feel it.

  9

  IT BEGAN BETTER than either of us had dared imagine. We were armed with our Young Person’s Railcards, our book of youth hostels across Europe, our backpacks and enough enthusiasm to sink a continent. We avoided major towns and spent our nights in youth hostels, sharing each room we had with at least four other people. Once, when we decided to walk to the next town and underestimated our progress, we had to spend the night in a small tent in a field, at least ten miles from the nearest hostel. But even that was fun, because it was new and exciting and different – and we were alone! We joined our sleeping bags together and cuddled up. We had a good kiss and cuddle even though we both wore pyjamas in case someone came along. It was wonderful.

  Slowly but surely, London and our families and friends all faded away. And as the rest of the world retreated, so Andrew, and how I felt about him, seemed to take over. All the grief, the arguments, the rough times, they were all worth it. Or rather, Andrew was worth it. Not a day passed without Andrew telling me that he loved me. Neither of us had really said the words that much before. But now, away from everyone else, it was as if we were two new people – or rather, the two people we could and would be if our respective families would just back off. And Andrew didn’t just say the words: he made sure I felt them – in the way he opened doors for me, pulled out chairs for me to sit, made sure I walked on the inside of him, closest to the shops and away from the road. In every smile he turned my way, in every gesture he made, I was . . . cherished.

 

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