Beginnings

by L. T. Smith

  I stood there, like a piece of clay waiting to be moulded into any shape she wanted, totally at her mercy. She placed both her hands on my shoulders and stared at me … so deeply … so fully, I actually began to have difficulty swallowing. Then she lifted one hand and grabbed one of mine and placed it on her hip, before she did the same with the other one.

  And there we stood. Her hands on my shoulders, mine on her hips … waiting for the countdown, although my heart was definitely waiting for something else.

  ‘Ten …’ She just gazed into my eyes … no expression readable. I stared back … transfixed. I actually missed the next few seconds, as I couldn’t concentrate.

  ‘Four …’ People were chanting the numbers now, but I couldn’t speak … I was lost in her eyes … in her touch.

  ‘Three …’ I licked my lips, nerves or expectation, I don’t know.

  ‘Two …’ She licked hers, just a mirroring reaction.

  ‘One …’ I couldn’t breathe now … the thought of what I wanted to happen was eating me alive.

  ‘Happy New Year!’ I didn’t hear the cheers around me, the people going wild and beginning to sing Auld Lang Syne. I didn’t know anything but the most tender kiss I had ever experienced in my life brush against my lips, once … twice … three times.

  Then she pulled me into her again, leaving me stunned and my blood racing. Her breath was in my hair, her voice muffled, but my nerves made it seem as if she had shouted it. ‘Thank you, Lou. For coming back to me … for coming back to me.’

  Did she mean tonight? Or generally?

  To tell the truth, I didn’t care. I folded into her and just accepted what she was willing to give, losing the last vestiges of control along the way, her presence consuming me, ingesting me … mind, body and soul.

  And there we stood, wrapped in each other’s arms for what seemed like a glorious lifetime, and all the while I knew this would probably be the last time I would experience this bliss, this heaven on earth. The first and last time … as I knew this was only a reaction to seeing me again after all those years apart.

  Stephen interrupted us … again, shouting his New Year’s greeting and expecting hugs and kisses from the both of us. I pulled away first, and I watched her eyes slowly open and focus on mine. They looked dreamy, for some reason. ‘Come on you two … you haven’t even toasted the New Year yet.’ With that, he thrust my glass into my hand, grabbing me around the waist and planting a sloppy kiss on my mouth, before grabbing his sister and picking her up to jiggle her around.

  She threw her head back and laughed that really deep and sexy laugh of hers, and I felt a smile creep along my face. I lifted the glass in toast, and silently mouthed, ‘Happy New Year, Ash. And thank you for coming back to me.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  IT WAS NEARLY a week before I saw Sarah again. And she looked like crap. I had tried to call her the day after, but she wasn’t taking my calls. Although it wasn’t actually said, I could sense it in her father’s tone of voice when he said she was out.

  It was not very welcoming to say the least.

  The time I saw her was at work, but not really at work if you know what I mean. She popped by to hand in her apron first thing on the Saturday morning, and it took her all her time to look at me, even after I kept on calling her name.

  What did I expect? Hugs and kisses?

  I tried to get her on her own, but she wouldn’t have any of it, and kept on edging away. Although she looked generally ravaged, it was her eyes that disturbed me the most.

  They were sunken and haunted. The sparkle she used to have had completely gone, and I knew it was all my fault. I had broken this girl; shattered her belief in me … her belief in life. Well that was what it seemed to me.

  She only said two words to me … two words that stopped me in my tracks … two words that made me step back and away from her.

  ‘Lou … don’t.’ It wasn’t what she said, it was her face … her tone, that made leave her alone. It was all too fresh – too open a wound for my inexperienced mumblings to slightly compensate anything she was going through. And although I had caused all this pain, I did actually know when to back off.

  That was the day she quit the stall, and left my life. I never saw her again, not even in passing, although I did hear she had met someone else.

  The reason for me never seeing her again will become obvious soon enough.

  Ash and I were constantly with each other, and I was in heaven. She was everything one person looked for in a friend – truthful, trusting, honest, witty … I could go on and talk about her intelligence, beauty and her wicked sense of humour, but I think you will guess I can wax lyrical about this girl.

  In a nutshell … she became my world.

  Ben was completely out of the picture (I bet you had wondered about the blonde haired wanker hadn’t you … he had moved on to another victim), so she was all mine …

  … all mine …

  … all mine …

  … in a platonic way of course.

  Unfortunately.

  We spent nearly every night either at her house or at mine. We still kept up with the bowling, and I was getting better – although not by much. Why would I bother improving if that would mean I wouldn’t get the guidance from her? And that amounted to lots of touching and full body contact. My favourite was when she came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist to turn me into position. She laughed every time and called me a fruit fly, because I couldn’t remember which of the little ‘arrowy things’ to stand near, and then which position to place my body.

  Which of course I remembered. Perfectly, actually. But there was no way on this earth I was going to let her know that, was there? Not a chance.

  The weeks flew by, and I was totally smitten with her – everything about her. But I should have known this piece of heaven couldn’t last, and it came totally out of the blue. And not what you are expecting either. I didn’t balls things up … profess my undying love for her … make a pass … let anything slip. I was completely innocent to the falling and breaking apart of my world.

  It was my parents actually.

  They told me we were moving.

  Away.

  Far away.

  Far away from Manchester … from Stockport … from Ash.

  I could tell you how I reacted, but that wouldn’t change a thing. I could tell you how I screamed at them, ranted … threw things … ignored them … refused to eat … But that would be superfluous wouldn’t it? You should know me by now to realise my whole life had been tipped over and stamped upon. Everything I knew was crushed. Everything I had would be snatched away from me.

  And that ‘everything’ came from only one thing … one person actually. But you know that don’t you.

  I didn’t tell her about the move for nearly a week. And then it wasn’t me who actually told her.

  Once again it was my parents … my mum in fact.

  I still remember her reaction, Ash’s reaction that is. Such a simple sentence spewed forth from my mum’s mouth … such simple words … all ordered together perfectly, but simple nevertheless.

  ‘Didn’t Lou tell you we were moving to Norfolk?’

  The smile Ash had been sporting froze … and I witnessed her physically struggle to keep it there, lips twitching, the surrounding area spasming … until finally it gave up, and slipped … slowly from her face, leaving her face blank – wiped clean – vacant.

  Slowly, she turned to me, the question in her eyes but as yet silent. I watched her lips struggle to collect themselves into some kind of action, fight with the incredulity of the situation, until finally … ‘Lou?’ A cry of sorts. The word hovered around in the air expectant, waiting for me to disprove what had been said. But how could I?

  I remember leaning forward, my hand outstretched as it had forgotten that it couldn’t just reach out and touch her, in case it became carried away and couldn’t stop … couldn’t stop … touching her. I stopped. Drew back the
rogue hand and clasped it into a ball, holding the traitor back with its twin.

  ‘I … I … was … erm …’

  ‘Lou?’

  Her voice held so much hurt, almost like I had betrayed it by not telling her.

  ‘I was … erm … going to tell you …’

  ‘When? As you were driving off?’ Her tone sounded bitter … or should I say hurt. I know I would have been hurt if she hadn’t told me about something as life changing as this.

  ‘No … I … well … erm …’ My mum watched the interchange with interest; watched me struggle to get the words out; watched Ash, pale and wan; watched me grip my rogue hand tighter.

  Watched as my world came tumbling down, like Jack and Jill. But this time it was Lou and Ash.

  ‘Why don’t you go up to your room and talk?’

  I nodded at mum’s suggestion, as words had left me there to fend for myself. I indicated to Ash that she should follow me, and she did.

  I walked up the stairs like Orpheus who was valiantly hoping Eurydice was following, but was terrified if he looked back she would be gone. I fully expected the sound of the front door closing to greet my ears, but all I heard was the creaking of the stairs.

  Eventually, I was stood in the room with my back to the door, and I heard the sound of it closing behind me. Then …

  Nothing.

  Complete silence.

  Well except for the booming of my heart, which had decided this moment was as good as any to start performing a drum solo. I knew I had to get this over … knew I had to act as natural as possible … knew it would half kill me when I told her.

  I turned around and forced my eyes to look at her face, adding a weak smile into the mix for good measure, hoping I wouldn’t just curl up at her feet and beg her to love me … beg her to save me … beg her to tell me I would be with her, or she would wait until I moved back … like I promised myself I would as soon as I reached eighteen.

  A face completely devoid of colour apart from blue eyes and the blood red lips … lips I had coveted … lips I wanted to take and smother and never ever let go.

  ‘Come … sit on the bed with me.’ I turned away again and plonked onto my bed, turning myself onto my side. She just stood there, and stared at me before I saw her leg push down and propel her forward, as if she had been pushed.

  It seemed as if it took her forever to get to me, and I watched her every move, albeit surreptitiously. She seemed sluggish … reticent. I wanted this to be all over as soon as possible; get it all out in the open so I could start mending my aching heart once again.

  Sounds dramatic, doesn’t it? But … if you have ever been in love you will know exactly what I mean. The constant longing I felt inside hurt like buggery (to borrow another expression from my mum’s vast list of expressions). No … I can’t say that now, as it would lose the effect of the agony I was going through. I was … dear reader … trying to save you from how I was feeling, but I think you deserve to know.

  As I was saying, if you have ever been in love you know how it feels. Even if it is reciprocated, there is a longing … a yearning deep inside … a fear that at any one moment it could all be taken from you and you would be left gasping like a fish out of water.

  And that is how I felt at that exact moment in time. Like a fish out of water. Gasping. Mouth smacking open and closed … fins flaying … everything becoming dim … distant … detached. All I needed was for Ash to untangle the line and throw me back in, save me in some way, but I doubted that was going to happen.

  It was Ash who finally spoke … thus untangling the line in my mouth and loosening the hook. ‘When are you going?’ And although the hook was gone, I was still out of the water.

  I just shook my head and lifted my face to hers, which was now inches away from mine. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. So I tried again.

  ‘I’m not sure … About six to eight weeks.’

  ‘Six weeks! Six … weeks!’ She shot off the bed so quickly it made me fall back. Then she marched over to the other side of the room and stood facing the wall, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

  Cliff was watching. It reminded me of Donny all those years ago. The feeling inside was exactly the same, but now I knew why I was totally devastated.

  It was because now I knew why I didn’t want to leave her, and this time it wasn’t just because she was my best friend.

  ‘When were you going to tell me?’ Her voice was quiet now, defeated. I just shrugged, and obviously she couldn’t see me, so she asked me again, but this time she turned her head to look at me over her shoulder. And this time her voice was sterner … more forceful … insistent.

  ‘I only found out last week.’

  ‘You’ve known for a week and you didn’t say anything?’ The tone of incredulity again, but there was a hint of bitterness harbouring there too. She turned to face me, hands on her hips, nostrils flaring. ‘So when did you think you might get around to telling me, hmm? The night before? On the day? ’ I couldn’t understand why she was so angry. It was so unlike her to react like this. If anyone was going to be angry, it was usually me.

  I was stunned, to say the least, which didn’t help with the situation. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

  So, me being me, I tried to answer, but it didn’t come out the way I thought it would. I opened my mouth to speak, and kind of choked around the enormous lump that had formed in my throat. I felt my face crease up and fold into a wrinkled mess, and tears plopped over my lids in a bid to escape the inner torment inside me. Shuddering sobs tore from within, and eased themselves through my teeth to greet the suffocating air of my bedroom.

  She was in front of me in a flash, bending before me on one knee … oh I wish. Her eyes had lost the coolness from minutes earlier, and now held the warm tenderness of the girl I loved.

  ‘Hey … sweetheart. Come on … don’t cry.’ What a beautiful voice … so rich, yet soft. And this of course made my crying escalate. ‘Hey …hey … come here.’ Two strong arms folded around me and then pulled me into a very warm and very full chest. I tried to breath her in, but my crying got in the way. Every time I tried to suck in the scent of her, I shuddered with sobs. It was a perfect opportunity to be close to her … to feel her next to me … to be in her arms, and I wasn’t getting the benefit.

  This thought made me cry even harder. Therefore making her more comforting … more loving … more enchanting … and it also made her hold me tighter, pulling me towards her and into her. I could feel my body responding to her touch … feel my face turning towards her throat … feel my lips opening up to kiss her neck … taste her neck …

  ‘Lou?’ Reality came crashing back, and I tried to pull myself away from her, but she held on tighter, her face pressing against the top of my head.

  I mumbled a response into her skin, illicitly enjoying the way my lips felt on her neck, until I felt her body tense around me … and then it went quiet for a minute … a bloody long minute at that.

  A cough, which I could feel moving up her chest, and then rapid swallowing. ‘It won’t be the end of us will it? We’ll still see each other won’t we?’ More rapid swallowing, but this time it was from the both of us.

  ‘Of course we will … I’ll be starting Uni next year in Manchester …’ (I hoped) ‘ … and then we can be just as we are now … ‘ (or closer). ‘And you can come and visit any time …’ (all of the time) ‘Or I could come and stay with you.’ (please)

  She gripped me harder, and I returned the gesture. To anybody watching we looked like a pair of star-crossed lovers … but the only audience we had was Cliff … and Madonna, and they didn’t really count.

  Ash pulled back and stared into my eyes … long and hard … like she was exacting a promise of sorts from me. It took all the strength I could muster not to just capture her mouth with mine … not to tell her how I was feeling … not to look away in absolute terror that I would do the previous two.

  ‘Promise?�
��

  ‘I promise, Ash. This isn’t the end … just a blip … we’ve survived once before, I’m sure to God we can do it again.’ I swallowed before I lied. ‘And best friends will always be together, right?’

  I didn’t just want her as my best friend, but I was still playing the ‘living in her shadow’ phase.

  And as I folded myself back into her arms, inhaled her scent, glorified in the feel of her, I truly believed what I had just said.

  The innocence of youth, eh? More like the idiocy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  TIME SEEMED TO race ahead leaving me gasping and clutching at the metaphorical stitch in my side, but the pain paled in comparison to how I was feeling when I thought of leaving Ash.

  The dates had come through for the move and it was to happen three days after my seventeenth birthday. What a present.

  My parents had been on countless trips to Norfolk to view properties and had decided on one in Great Yarmouth of all places. It was okay if you liked funfairs and the seaside … and remember … this is what I thought as a teenager … now I can see the true beauty of the sea. But at the time every thing about Yarmouth seemed hateful, as you can imagine, as Yarmouth would take me away.

  Every minute I spent with Ash seemed like a gift in some strange way. I devoured moments, savoured seconds, took snapshots in my head of her to keep in my memory after I was gone … for after I left her. It was a bitter sweet time … half of me was enjoying being with her more than ever, whilst the other half was screaming inside in agony knowing it would all too soon come to an end.

  When I told her what day we were moving, I watched her contain her sadness, almost in the same way I had to contain mine. But then it seemed like an idea had spread itself all over her, and her face beamed, which initially I was quite pissed off about. The selfish part of me wanted her to wallow in misery in pretty much the same way I did.