After a pause, Cassie explains. ‘I was tearing down a poster. One of those fascist ones. I couldn’t walk past it again, so I just tore it down and ripped it up and shoved it in someone’s wheelie bin.’
‘That’s amazing!’
‘I don’t think anyone saw me, but I’m worried I could get in trouble.’
‘I don’t think tearing posters down is a crime. Surely putting them up in the first place counts as vandalism …’
‘I know, but you know how it is, they can always find an excuse …’
‘Look, if anyone tries anything, there are about twenty people I can think of off the top of my head who have your back. I’ll say it was me. You did something good and useful and I’m sorry you had to,’ I say, almost guiltily. I guess I do feel guilty. I should’ve done something to make sure Cassie didn’t have to see one of those disgusting posters. They shouldn’t be up at all. Wow. Guilt is featuring pretty heavily in my life right now.
‘Thanks,’ she says.
I think for a moment. ‘If I see any, I’ll take them down myself, so you don’t have to worry about it anymore.’
‘That’d be cool. Thank you,’ Cassie says, nodding. ‘Hey, it was nice of Cal to come by, right?’
‘Yeah, I guess so …’
‘You don’t sound so sure?’ Cassie presses me. I’m about to tell her about the whole Daisy situation, but I stop myself. I figure I should probably work it out with Daisy first, before telling Cassie. I can’t keep it a secret for much longer, and I don’t want to burden Cassie with a secret to keep too – she and Daisy actually get on pretty well.
‘No, it’s not that … it’s just very new to me and I’m not sure how to handle it. That level of attention or interest or whatever.’
‘It’s a good thing. Don’t worry about it too much.’ Her attention is caught by a huge seagull swooping down and hopping about in front of the stand. ‘GO AWAY! You can fly!’ Cassie yells at it. ‘I know we’re hot babes but surely you have better places to be!’
The seagull does what it’s told and flies off with a squawk. Cassie’s quiet for a while, scratching away at her notebook, then holds it up and shows me a perfect little rendering of Cal: his thick, dark hair, his heavy eyebrows, his high cheekbones, and what you can tell, even in soft grey pencil, are his pale blue eyes.
‘You’re amazing,’ I say to her.
A woman with two children approaches the stand. She’s wearing a headscarf and a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, and the kids are running gleefully towards us. They’re very excited about the prospect of ice cream but have no idea what flavour they want, so Cassie scrapes a little of each with a variety of our tiny transparent plastic spoons. Eventually they’re able to place their perfect order and they wander off back to the seafront with their cones.
I don’t say it out loud, but the idea that someone thinks our town would be better off without Cassie or this woman and her children makes me so confused and angry. I watch as Cassie pulls out her notebook and starts scribbling away. Weston Bay would be so empty without her. She belongs here. If she wasn’t here … nothing would make sense.
It doesn’t take long for Cassie to turn the family into a sweet little cartoon trio in her notebook. I don’t know how she does it, they look so much like them, the little boy’s smile, the folds in the woman’s scarf. It makes me wonder if she’s ever drawn me.
‘You’re really on a roll today, dude,’ I say to her as she tucks her notebook into her back pocket.
‘The infinite mystery of the human face. Hey, why don’t you draw a nice portrait later as your new thing?’ Cassie looks optimistic.
‘I’ll think about it …’ I say evasively. I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
Another honest day’s work successfully behind me, I look at myself in my bedroom mirror. I definitely look a thousand times better than I did when Cal came by the stand earlier, so at least I’ve got that going for me. No more sweaty baseball-cap hair for Lily Rose. As I’m admiring myself, tucking my T-shirt into the tiger-print midi skirt Cassie made me for my birthday last year, my sister pops her head round the door.
‘Can I borrow that pink lipstick you were wearing the other night?’ Daisy asks. ‘Oh, are you going out too? Maybe we can walk into town together.’
‘Yeah, I’m just meeting –’ I begin, without having figured out whose name I’m going to say. Probably Cassie’s.
‘Let me guess …’ she says, and for a minute I’m sure she’s going to say Cal. And although I know that if she does, and I wasn’t the one to tell her, that I’ve crossed some kind of twin line, part of me would be so relieved for this to be all over and done with. ‘Cassie?’ I need to tell her. She needs to know.
But I’m a coward, and instead of coming clean I laugh nervously and rummage around on top of my chest of drawers, without actually answering the question. ‘Here’s the lipstick.’
She manages to apply it expertly without looking in the mirror. Predictably, it looks better on her.
‘I’m ready,’ she says triumphantly, as she clicks the cap back on and slips it into her pocket like it was hers all along.
‘Where are you off to?’ I ask, praying she says the Lighthouse. I realize I’m counting the beats of the syllables against the palm of my hand again. Where-are-you-off-to. I wiggle my fingers to force myself to stop. As if forcing myself to stop doing the thing I do when I feel tense and anxious is the same thing as actually stopping myself from feeling tense and anxious.
‘Cinema with Charisse and Sabrina,’ she says. ‘Followed by the Lighthouse, just for a couple of drinks. I know Mark will make us some free cocktails while Uncle Michael isn’t looking.’ Bingo. No chance our paths will cross there. Looks like everything is coming up Lily.
‘What are you seeing at the cinema?’
‘Some stupid-looking romcom.’ She shrugs. ‘I’m mostly going because they want to see it.’
‘Well, I hope it doesn’t suck too hard.’
‘And I’m thinking of giving my cinema crush my number,’ she says, casually. ‘You know, if he’s there.’
He won’t be, I think to myself. I’ve got to tell her. ‘Maybe … he’s already seeing someone?’ I suggest, struggling to stay nonchalant.
‘Ha!’ Daisy replies absently, as she tosses her hair and pouts in the mirror. ‘I’m sure she’ll be no match for me either way.’
Something about this simple statement pierces me right through the heart. It’s like, without knowing a thing, she has still managed to drill down deep into the core of all my fears.
I realize I haven’t said anything after a few seconds. ‘I wish you luck,’ I say, finally. I slip on my shoes, pick up my bag and we head downstairs to say bye to Mum.
‘Like ships in the night,’ Mum says, shaking her head mock-forlornly. She’s watching a cooking programme on TV. They’re making some kind of elaborate chocolate torte. ‘Last night I was out and you were home, tonight I’m home alone while my girls are out and about. Oh well, just a little taste of my future, I should probably get used to it.’
‘Poor old Mummy,’ I say, joining her on the sofa and wrapping my arms around her. ‘You won’t be too bored without us, will you? You could always look for someone on the apps now and meet them in an hour.’
‘No, of course I won’t be bored!’ Mum scoffs. ‘And what would you do if I said yes, eh? Are you going to stay home and hang out with me rather than going on a d—’
‘Mum!’ I interject.
‘Hmm?’ Daisy asks, looking up from her phone, as if the only reason she tuned in was because she could detect my tone, but hadn’t actually heard anything.
‘Nothing,’ I say, casually. ‘Hey, he’s cute.’ I point at the screen, where a red-headed chef with thick-rimmed glasses is piping icing onto the torte.
‘He is cute,’ says Mum.
‘I’m not into gingers. And besides, I could never date a chef, I’d get so fat,’ Daisy says. Before I can even figure out how to react, let alone ac
tually do it, Daisy turns to Mum. ‘Hey, are you going to see your internet man again?’
Mum can’t suppress her smile, but pauses before replying. ‘Yes, I hope so …’
‘Wow! Can’t believe you got a good one on the first go!’ Daisy says in disbelief.
‘It was a good first date, that’s all.’ Mum shrugs, but the smile is still there. ‘He doesn’t live in town but has to come for work pretty much every week.’
‘So he stays in a … hotel?’ I say, wiggling my eyebrows.
‘Ugh, gross!’ Daisy’s having none of it. ‘Hey, what’s this?’ She nudges a big box on the floor with her foot.
‘Woks!’ Mum cries, delightedly.
‘Rocks?’ Daisy peers at her, uncomprehending. ‘A box of rocks?’
‘W-o-k, wok. A truly indispensable item for any student, I assure you.’
‘Argh, I feel like everyone buying me stuff for next year is jinxing it! What if I don’t get the grades and I have to sit around here for another year with this wok staring at me?’
‘I don’t know why you’re so worried about it, Daisy. Take a leaf out of Lily’s book and relax,’ Mum says, raising her eyebrows at me.
‘Yeah, relax …’ I say. I must be hiding my anxiety better than I realized. God, it’s feeling too real. Kitchen supplies, forms to fill in, days disappearing before my eyes. It’s so out of control. I wish I could go back in time and tell myself that this so-called ‘independence’, deliberately distancing myself from my mum and especially from Daisy, isn’t really what I want. It’s what I think I should want. But I don’t want it – not yet, anyway.
‘Are we ready to go?’ Daisy asks, impatiently.
‘Yes, let’s hit the road,’ I say, blowing a kiss to Crystal as we head out the door. She meows back at me like she understands.
Between the clip-clops of Daisy’s shoes beside me, I’m lost in thought. Every time I try to tell Daisy about Cal, she reminds me of another reason why I shouldn’t. She’ll take it as some kind of personal insult. Some kind of slight against her. That he’s with me, instead of her.
For two people who have been compared all our lives, we are prickly about being in competition with each other. It’s been the unspoken, unaddressed friction between us since we were old enough to know it was happening. And, truthfully, I’m not used to being the winner. I don’t want to get into it with her, because I don’t want her to feel cornered into saying stuff that’ll make me feel bad.
All of a sudden she looks at me quizzically, like she can sense what’s going on inside my brain. ‘Daisy …’ I begin, as we walk past the row of shops containing the good butcher and the bad fishmonger and the empty shop where the post office used to be.
‘Mmm?’
‘It’s cool that we’re not competing for the same stuff anymore, isn’t it?’ I’ve decided this is a useful tactic in talking about the Cal situation.
‘Yeah, I guess …’ Daisy furrows her brow. ‘It’s not nativity plays and rounders teams anymore.’
‘Like our paths … our tastes … have diverged,’ I say, awkwardly gesturing with my hands to indicate a road splitting in two directions.
‘Sure, yeah, I get it. Like you’re the arty one, I’m the sciencey one. I’m sporty, you like making stuff.’
‘Right,’ I say, sensing now is the time, this very moment, to tell her about Cal.
‘We have different friends, different crushes. Not that we’d be going for the same guys, though.’ She shrugs so casually, like it’s nothing, like it wouldn’t even cross her mind. I don’t know what to say. It’s like, it’s not just unlikely but impossible.
I look at her. ‘Wouldn’t we?’
Daisy suddenly looks trapped. ‘I mean … I didn’t mean … I just meant that, like, we like different guys, which is true, right?’
It’s not, really. But I decide to let her off the hook. ‘Sure.’
I can hear my heart pounding angrily in my chest. It strikes me as so unfair that I have to feel everything so intensely, when she gets to be casual. All her anxieties are just a performance – a way to get people to reassure her of what she already knows (that she’s amazing). I can’t tell anyone how I feel for exactly the same reason (that I’m not).
I want to tell her about Cal just to prove her wrong, as much for revenge as anything. But I won’t have my evening ruined before it’s begun.
As we’re waiting for the traffic lights to change, a poster across the road catches my eye and takes my mind away from Daisy. It’s in the same style as the racist poster, but this one has a different theme: a rainbow LBGTQIA+ pride flag with a big black cross through it and ‘NO PRIDE IN WESTON BAY’ emblazoned across it. I know it’s my imagination, but for a split second one of the people illustrated on the poster looks like Cassie.
Seaforth, the bigger, busier town, has its own (admittedly small) Pride event and there was talk of setting up a Weston Bay version next year. I let out a little gasp of fury and feel my cheeks start to burn.
I think about running over and tearing it down, but something about Daisy being there stops me. She’ll read something into it. I’ll get it on the way home.
I meet Cal at the Crown because they do the cheapest pints and neither the cinema nor the ice-cream stand pay us enough to live luxuriously. Trying to put the whole poster thing out of my mind, I kiss him on the lips when we meet. He looks gorgeous, unshaven and slightly tanned from his morning in the sun. And more than that, he looks happy to see me, happy that I’m there and that I’m kissing him. Happiness is enough. Happiness is straightforward, and in a summer where I feel like nothing is straightforward, it is a relief to have an anchor.
I go up to the bar to get us drinks, and while I’m waiting to be served, someone sidles up to me. I glance to the side and realize it’s none other than Molly.
‘Hi Lily!’ She throws her arms around me with surprising enthusiasm.
‘Hi Molly, how are you?’ I ask, before turning back to the barman to order.
‘I’m great! Just out with my brother who’s home from uni, we’re so bored at home.’ She pauses for a second. ‘Hey, who are you here with?’ There’s something about the way she’s asking the question that means she knows something, though I can’t tell what.
‘Um, just a guy I’m seeing,’ I say as I tap my card on the machine. I wonder what Molly’s up to.
‘Oh! I thought I saw you come in with someone else.’
‘Who?’
‘No one, just this kinda hot, tall guy with dark hair that I see around sometimes,’ she says, batting the whole subject away dismissively.
I want to laugh out loud but I manage not to. There’s something simultaneously so absurd and hilarious about her, how pathetic and narrow-minded she is. In her mind it’s impossible that the person she saw me with could also be the person I’m dating.
‘Yeah …’ I say, suppressing a smile. ‘Well, you and your brother have a fun night.’
I walk back over to our table, put the glasses down and flick a glance towards the bar to see if Molly’s looking. I see that she is, so instead of sitting in the chair opposite Cal, I slide into the booth next to him, slip my arm around his shoulder and kiss him. When I pull away after a moment, I look back to the bar and see Molly staring open-mouthed. I wink at her and return to my seat.
‘Uh, thanks for the pint,’ Cal says, slightly bewildered.
‘No problem,’ I say, smiling. ‘How was your shift?’
‘Hellish. The air conditioner broke in one of the screens. It was absolute chaos. I can’t believe it happened on my shift, on one of the hottest days of the year. But I’m here now,’ he replies brightly, taking a sip from his glass. ‘I’ve truly earned these drinks, I’m telling you.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ I say. We sip our icy-cold pints for a moment.
I open my mouth to say something when someone in a teal sequinned top and denim cut-off shorts catches my eye at the bar. I squint in confusion. Cassie?
Cal stands up
. ‘Hey, man!’ He’s clapping Jack on the back. Now this I was not expecting.
Cassie looks over and seems as surprised as me. She carries her and Jack’s drinks over and sets them down on the table. ‘Uh, this is a coincidence,’ she says, hugging me with great enthusiasm.
‘Not exactly …’ Jack says, looking shifty.
‘We never get the same evening off so thought we would take advantage of it,’ says Cal.
‘And of course I wasn’t going to cancel seeing Cassie,’ Jack adds quickly.
‘A surprise double date …’ I say weakly. I guess a double date can be my new thing today, since I haven’t come up with anything else.
There’s no reason why it should be awkward – we’ve all met before. But the element of surprise has clearly thrown Cassie and me off a little. We’re pulling awkward faces at each other across the table, which probably doesn’t help.
‘Hey, have you noticed those posters around town?’ Cassie asks before taking a sip of her beer.
‘The weird old-timey ones?’ Cal asks.
‘Yeah, those ones,’ Cassie says. It’s clearly been weighing on her mind all day. ‘They’re fucked up.’
‘Some fascist bullshit masquerading as nostalgia,’ Cal says, shaking his head.
‘I wonder who put them up,’ Jack says, and as he says it, I look around the pub and think that they could be right here, right now. They’re probably not, but still. They’re somewhere.
‘I guess I hadn’t really realized how bad things can be here,’ I say, looking down at my drink. It’s like the people I love aren’t safe in the place they live.
‘Not to minimize specific stuff here, but it feels like that’s the way the world is going. It’s scary. It’s shit,’ says Cal.
‘I feel like I want to do something about those disgusting posters,’ Cassie says, her jaw set and determined. ‘But I haven’t figured out what yet.’
‘Let me know when you do,’ I say, looking her in the eye.
We sit in silence for a moment, no one sure what to say, but before long Cal reaches out and squeezes my hand and we’re all back into a comfortable back and forth, talking about films and travel and our families and our lives and TV shows that make us laugh and I’m just really glad to be here with him and Cassie and, I guess, Jack too.
Melt My Heart Page 9
