But then Mrs Hopkins says, ‘Maybe it would be a good idea to ask your parents to come in to see me anyway? We could have a chat about your progress, set up a programme to get you back on track before it’s too late …’
‘NO!’ The last thing I needed was for my parents to be informed about how rubbish I was and what a bad influence Jem was on me. ‘It’s difficult at the moment at home. My parents have split up. Dad’s … not here … he’s in New York … working. And my mum’s not very well at the moment. It would only worry her.’
‘Oh.’ The teacher’s face droops with concern. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. That does explain a lot. But I do feel they need to be kept in the picture, before it’s too late …’
‘Look, I’m fine, really. OK, I know I’ve been slacking a bit lately, but I’m back on track, honest. Now I’ve dropped Sociology, I can concentrate on the others and prepare properly for my A levels. Maybe you could give me a hand with English, help me catch up … ?’
Mrs Hopkins smiles. ‘Of course I will,’ she says and dives into her filing cabinet. Five minutes later, I stagger from her office with a stack of notes and past papers a mile high.
That’s my trouble. I’m too good an actress.
Outside, Zoe is waiting for me, hopping anxiously from one foot to the other, arms folded tight with tension.
‘Anna! Are you OK? I was so worried!’
‘Yeah, right. For your information I got chased by some nutter. I could’ve been attacked and left for dead for all you cared!’
Why did I say that? It was Jem – I was in no danger whatsoever. Maybe because at the time, before I knew it was him, I had been truly terrified. It has the desired effect anyway. Zoe’s face is blank with shock.
‘Oh my G’
‘Yeah, thanks a bunch!’ I say, glaring at her over my pile of papers. ‘And not only did you chuck me out of your house last night, you and your big mouth nearly got me chucked out of college!’
She stares at me in horror. ‘I’m so sorry! I was worried sick about you when you didn’t turn up this morning. And Mrs Hopkins asked where you were and I couldn’t help it, I’
‘I know, she told me.’
‘I’m sorry!’ she repeats miserably. ‘It’s all my fault.’
‘Some friend you turned out to be!’
‘Anna, if there’s anything I can do to make up … Anything?’
‘Yes there is. Stay away from me!’
I stalk off down the corridor, enjoying the sight of her mortified face. It makes me feel better somehow.
I can’t think about my own role in all this. Not yet.
I’ve got other things to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It’s my last chance.
So what? It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m going to London with Jem whether I pass my A levels or not.
In the library I sink down into a chair and put my head in my hands. It does matter. It matters a lot. Not for Mrs Hopkins’ sake, not for Zoe’s, certainly not for my father’s, not even for my mum’s.
It matters to me.
I want to be a student. I realize that now. I want to for all the obvious reasons, but also because I actually like studying. It’s what I’m good at. It’s just that since I’ve met Jem, life has become such a whirl I haven’t found time to do it.
But it’s not too late. I take a deep breath and start ploughing my way through the notes.
I keep my phone switched off and scribble away madly, trying to catch up on weeks of work. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed. Soon I am totally absorbed, not even noticing it’s lunchtime till Zoe drops in front of me a tuna and cucumber sandwich (my favourite) from the canteen. I ignore her, but eat it later on my way to afternoon lessons.
In French I keep my head down and collect extra work at the end from Madame Cassian, who’s obviously already been briefed by Mrs H. We’ve got a test tomorrow and I’m way behind with revision. In Art I refuse to rise to sarcastic observations from Mr Thomas about my attendance or the lack of it and just get down to it.
By the end of the day I’m exhausted, but satisfied. I can do this, I know I can. Zoe is waiting for me outside the Art room.
‘How did it go?’ she asks quietly.
‘Good.’
‘I’m glad!’ She grins, delighted she’s got a response. ‘I’ll help you as much as I can, you know that!’ She puts her arm through mine, but I shake it off. The thing is, I’m not mad at her any more none of the mess I’ve got myself into is her fault, but I’m not quite ready to let her off the hook yet. I stare at her, unsmiling.
‘If we’re going to stay friends, you have to get over this thing you’ve got about Jem,’ I say.
‘I haven’t got a thing about him!’ she starts to protest, but I interrupt her.
‘Yes you have. You don’t like him, Zoe, I’m not stupid. But he’s my boyfriend and I love him. It’s serious between us. So if you can’t accept that, well …’ I shrug my shoulders.
She bites her lip. Zoe knows me better than anyone. She knows that if I had to choose between them, I would choose him.
‘OK. I’ll be honest with you, Anna, I’m no fan of Jem’s. No, listen!’ she says urgently, as I turn away in a huff. ‘I am a fan of yours though, so I’ll try, for your sake. He must be all right if you like him that much. OK?’
‘Thanks.’ I give her a squeeze. ‘Once you get to know him properly, you’ll love him too, I promise.’ She doesn’t look convinced so I add, ‘Well, you’ll like him. A bit? A teeny bit?’ My voice is high and wheedling, and I’m rewarded at last with a reluctant smile and an ‘Idiot!’
‘Go on!’ I say, ‘Admit it! He’s hot.’
‘Oh yeah, he’s hot all right!’ she concedes a bit grimly, but I let it pass. It’s a start.
I slip my arm through hers and we walk out of college together, buddies again. Across the road I spot Jem waiting for me. As he walks towards me I warn Zoe, ‘Now be nice!’ and she says, ‘I will!’ and fixes a smile on her face.
But it’s Jem who’s not nice.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ he says, glowering at me.
‘College,’ I say in surprise.
He completely ignores Zoe gawping at him as he confirms her worst prejudices. ‘You said you weren’t going to be long. I’ve been waiting round for you all day.’
‘I had lectures to go to!’
‘You could’ve rung me!’
‘Sorry,’ I say, remembering that my phone was turned off. I am so aware of Zoe taking all this in as I attempt to explain. ‘I got hauled over the coals. They were on the point of chucking me out.’
‘So?’
Is he doing this deliberately? ‘Well, I had to get some work done, didn’t I?’
He scowls even more. ‘Why? I thought we’d decided you’re not going to sit your A levels anyway.’
Beside me I hear Zoe gasp.
‘We haven’t decided anything!’ I say in a flash of annoyance and our eyes lock together defiantly.
‘Look, I’d better go,’ says Zoe and she dashes off.
Jem mutters something after her. I don’t quite catch it but I can tell it’s not very nice.
‘Don’t take it out on her!’ I snap.
‘Why not?’ he snarls. ‘She’s the one who’s turned you against me. Bitch!’
We’re like two dogs circling each other, ready to go for each other’s throat. Suddenly I can’t stand it any more.
‘Stop it! Stop it, Jem!’ I yell. ‘Why do you do this? Why do you think everyone is against you all the time?’ But I know the answer to this already. He doesn’t trust people, especially women. No wonder, with a past like his. ‘Zoe hasn’t turned me against you.’
‘She wants to split us up!’
‘She doesn’t, she wants to be friends. She’s not the enemy, Jem. She’s on our side.’
He looks sceptical but says nothing. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but at least he’s calmer. He gazes into the distance for a while,
his arms folded tight across his chest, then all of a sudden he groans. ‘I’m sorry, Anna. You’re right. I just missed you so much. Last night was amazing.’
His eyes are so warm and full of regret they melt all my anger away and I put my arms around him.
‘For me too. Don’t let’s quarrel.’
I can feel his lips against my hair, his hands smoothing it down. ‘I love you,’ he murmurs. ‘Come back to your dad’s flat.’
‘I can’t. I’ve got to go home. Mum will be worried.’
‘Tell her you’re staying at Zoe’s again. For the next few days. Catching up with work.’ His voice in my ear is low and insistent. ‘It’s true, you can get it done, I won’t disturb you. And then, when you’ve finished it all, we can spend the night together.’
‘I can’t …’
At this moment there is nothing I want more.
‘Please … Zoe will cover for us. You said she wants to be friends.’ I can feel his body against mine.
‘I’ll have to go home first and tell Mum …’
‘Ring her.’
‘I need to collect some stuff …’
‘There’s stuff in the flat.’
‘I can’t, I mustn’t …’
He takes my hand in his.
‘Anna,’ he says, ‘you’re coming with me.’
He hadn’t expected this. This wasn’t part of the plan.
But that’s the way it always happened.
Love crept up on you like a thief in the night and Bang! Bang! Got you right through the heart.
But love left you confused.
And defenceless.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Things don’t work out exactly as planned. We go back to the flat and fall straight into bed. Afterwards, I lie in Jem’s arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and it strikes me how rapidly our relationship has developed and changed. Not very long ago it was easy, fun, uncomplicated. Now it’s intense, fiery, fuelled by rows and misunderstandings.
And fear.
Fear? Where did that come from? Lying there with my head on his chest, I feel my forehead crease into a frown. Am I afraid of Jem? I rise up on my elbow to look at him sleeping peacefully beside me. His face is softer in sleep somehow, like a child’s. Of course I’m not afraid of him.
I study him, drinking him in. I love the way his hair grows, thick over his brow; I love his long, dark lashes; I love his jaw, relaxed now in sleep but still firm and almost blue with its barely controlled stubble; I love his straight nose and his olive skin and the smell of him and the glimpse of white, slightly crooked teeth between his lips …
It’s his mouth I love most of all, his beautiful mouth. I love the clearly defined but asymmetric lips with the barely discernable lift at one side that hints of darker depths. I could die for that mouth …
He opens his eyes and smiles up at me, sleepily. I dip my head and press my lips to his and he pulls me back down into the haven of his arms.
I love him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
My phone wakes us up. It’s Mum, wanting to know if I’m coming home for dinner. I struggle up on to my elbows.
‘I’m at Zoe’s, Mum. We’re revising for our French test tomorrow.’ Jem nudges me and I add, ‘I think I might stay over.’
‘Again?’
Mum’s voice is suspicious.
‘We’ve got loads to do. It’s easier, working together.’
There’s silence on the other end. Then Mum says, ‘You’re not with Jem, are you?’
‘No! Of course I’m not with Jem!’ Jem grins and starts to tickle my leg. I brush his hand away impatiently.
‘Only it’s strange how we haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since you’ve been at Zoe’s.’
‘He’s working, Mum. That’s why I’m taking the opportunity to catch up. You don’t want me to fall behind, do you?’
‘No, of course not.’ Mum’s voice is still uncertain. ‘So long as Zoe’s mother doesn’t mind. Can you put her on? I’d like a word with her.’
‘She’s out.’
‘Zoe, then?’
‘She’s in the shower.’
‘Anna? What are you up to?’
‘Mum! Trust me!’ I say, and end the call. Then I put my face in my hands and groan.
‘Maybe I should just get dressed and go.’
‘No! Don’t be daft! You’ve got work to do. By the time you get home, it’ll be too late to do anything. Look, I’ll make you a nice meal while you get on with it.’
‘But what about Mum? She doesn’t believe me, I can tell. She wants to speak to Zoe.’
‘Then ring her! Get her to phone your mum and tell her you’re there with her.’
‘I can’t ask her to do that!’
‘Why not? You said she was on our side.’
I sigh and call Zoe.
‘You OK?’ she asks.
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I say, puzzled, then remember she’d left at the point Jem was being a brat. ‘I’m at’ Just in time I remember to stop myself blurting out that I’m squatting in my dad’s apartment with my boyfriend. I don’t think Zoe would understand. ‘Look, Zoe, I’m going to stay at Jem’s for a night or two.’
‘I thought he shared a room with two other blokes?’
‘He does. But they’re away.’
‘Well, that’s up to you, if that’s what you want to do. What are you telling me for?’ She sounds a bit cheesed off. Nothing new there.
‘The thing is, Zo, I’ve told my mum I’m staying with you. To revise for French.’
‘So?’
‘I’m not sure she believes me. Can you ring her?’
‘You want me to ring her? What for?’
‘So she knows it’s true.’
‘It’s not true.’
Silence.
‘You want me to lie for you, tell her you’re at my house.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘Please, Zoe.’
‘And what am I supposed to say if she wants to speak to you?’
‘Tell her I’m busy. Tell her I’m on the loo! Make something up! Please, Zoe. For us.’
My voice is pleading. There’s silence on the end of the line. Then finally she says, ‘For you.’
A message comes through from Zoe five minutes later. It’s short and to the point. Sorted, it says. Not even an ‘x', let alone a ‘lol’. But by that time I’m deep into my French revision, books scattered all over the bed and a glass of fizz in my hand, while Jem potters around in the kitchen getting some food together. It feels ace, like we’re a proper couple. If this is a sign of things to come, then I can’t wait to live with Jem in London. Bring it on!
That night we eat olives, sun-dried tomatoes, peppers, anchovies and little biscotti things that Jem has found in the cupboards. Very Mediterranean. And me drink champagne, of course. Afterwards he produces a box of dark chocolates, laced with brandy, which are totally delicious.
‘I’ll be pissed!’ I moan as I help myself to yet another. ‘And I’ve still got loads of work to do.’
‘No problem,’ he says, topping up my glass. ‘I’m going to disappear for a while, let you get on with it.’
‘Are you going out tagging?’ I say in surprise.
‘Nope. I’m going round to yours. Allay your mum’s suspicions. Then she’ll think you really are at Zoe’s.’
‘That is so clever!’ I say admiringly. ‘When will you be back?’
‘I won’t be long.’ He plants a kiss on the top of my head. ‘Now, get on with it! Leave the washing up. I’ll do it when I get home.’
Home. He’ll do it when he gets home. That is so sweet. I stretch out in the bed as he shuts the door behind him. I wish it was our home.
I wish I really lived here with Jem.
He lengthened his stride comfortably, feeling his heart rate increase. It was good to keep fit, to stretch out. He spent too much of his time hanging around, keeping an eye on things. He got wor
ked up that way.
Now, running alone through the streets, he felt better. Calmer. More in control.
Was this what happiness felt like?
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I’m fast asleep when Jem returns. I’d worked on my French for hours till my eyes drooped and my brain refused to cram in any more. I can’t actually remember falling asleep, but the next morning I wake up with a thumping head.
Jem is sprawled out beside me, snoring gently. I kick him grumpily and he opens his eyes.
‘What time did you come in last night?’
‘Dunno. Not that late. You were flat out so I didn’t disturb you.’ He reaches out for me but I shake my head.
‘I’ve got a splitting headache.’
He laughs and says, ‘You’re supposed to use that excuse when we’re old and married.’
‘It’s true!’
He leans across and picks up the empty bottle of champagne on my side of the bed. ‘I’m not surprised. You finished this off last night when I was out.’
‘Did I?’ I remember now. I was sipping it all the time I was revising. Champagne is weird; you don’t feel as if you’re drinking. Until the hangover kicks in.
‘I’ve got my test this morning,’ I say glumly.
‘You’ll be fine,’ says Jem and he turns over and snuggles back down under the covers. ‘Make us a cup of tea, babe, if you’re getting up.’
By the time I bring it to him, he’s gone back to sleep.
I struggle my way through the French test, hopefully doing enough to keep the teacher happy. In English I get a funny look from Mrs Hopkins when I first walk in, but I sit down and take off my sweater to reveal a top belonging to Jude and she visibly relaxes. She is so on my case, that woman!
I don’t like wearing Jude’s clothes, but beggars can’t be choosers. I can’t keep wearing the same clothes three days in a row; if Mrs Hopkins notices, you can bet everyone else does too.
Jem was snoring his head off when I left so I didn’t get a chance to ask him how he’d got on at my house last night. Today I remembered he was working at lunchtime so I’d left him a note to say I’d see him back at the flat after college.
He's After Me Page 9
