by Maria Goodin
She wraps her arms around herself and stares at the ground, silent.
“And even if things had been different,” I plough on, “even if you hadn’t been with somebody else, I would never have told you how I felt, not all the time I was convinced I didn’t want the same things as you, that I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”
“But how has that suddenly changed?” she asks, risking a glance at my face, shaking her head like she doesn’t believe me.
“Because I’ve changed,” I tell her. “Things that I believed or told myself for a long time… I see it differently now. I feel differently now. I’ve never been able to see myself having all that with someone – a home, a life, a family – but with you…”
I let this hang in the air, wondering if it’s too much. But I’m already halfway there.
“…I can see all that with you. And it doesn’t feel scary. It feels right.”
She puts her hand to her mouth, covers her lips, but doesn’t speak.
“I don’t know how you feel,” I say, “but I think you feel something. And even if it’s only a fraction of what I feel then—”
“How can you not know how I feel?” she asks. “I mean, I was trying so hard to hide it, but I felt like I must be transparent.”
“I didn’t know,” I tell her. “I still don’t know.”
She looks at me, and in the weak light, I can see her eyes are watery.
“Since you barged your way back into my life,” she says, her voice shaky with nerves and a hint of anger, “I have tried so hard – I mean, so hard – not to think about you, not to feel anything about you. I kept telling myself that it was fine, I was happy, I was going to get married, and maybe I didn’t feel like I thought I should feel, but nothing’s perfect, right? And then you came along and ruined everything. You made me feel the way I used to feel when I was with you, feelings that I’d almost forgotten existed, you made me question what I wanted, what I was doing… but I thought that if I could just ignore all that, if I could just be your friend, then that would make everything okay…”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath.
“I left here because of you,” she says. “I lied. Harmonie never had a business opportunity that we moved away for. She moved us on because she knew I couldn’t bear to stay here, wondering when I might bump into you. I left because of you and I came back because of you.”
I watch her struggling and it takes all I have not to reach out and put my arms around her.
“You know, you actually made it easier when you said you didn’t want me around. Because just for a while I could feel hurt and angry at you…”
She shakes her head forlornly.
“But even then, it didn’t stop me feeling all the other things I was trying not to feel.”
I watch her closely, waiting, as she wipes at the outside edge of her eye with shaky fingers. She takes a deep breath as if she’s about to add something more, but I can’t stand it any longer. I step towards her, taking her by the shoulders. She shivers.
“Please don’t do this unless you really mean it,” she says quietly,
“I mean all of it,” I tell her, firmly, “I would never be saying any of this if I didn’t.”
I lay my forehead against hers.
“I want everything with you,” I whisper. “I always have.”
We stand silently for a moment, the sound of our shallow breathing mingling with the distant beat of the music. I squeeze her shoulders and she lifts her hands to grip my forearms, her chilled fingers clutching me tight. I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of her. I can barely dare to believe she’s here beneath my touch, that she’s saying these things to me.
“I kissed you first the last two times,” she mutters, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
I laugh quietly, pulling back and searching her face, seeing tears in her eyes.
“Then I guess that makes it my turn,” I tell her.
I reach out and gently tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. I hold her face between my palms, her scar against mine.
And for the third time in our lives we share our first kiss.
Chapter 28
Goodnight
From the top of the hill, you could see out over the park, above the kids’ playground and right across town. We sat on the grass gazing out at the lights of Timpton’s houses, pubs and restaurants shining brightly in the darkness.
“I think that’s Orion,” I said, pointing up at the sky. “Or maybe not. I dunno. Apparently, it’s easier to see in winter. Or where there’s less light pollution.”
The others looked up.
“Where d’you learn that?” asked Max.
I shrugged and smiled to myself. “Libby taught me.”
“Libby seems to be teaching you a lot of things,” piped up Tom, “apart from what to do with your—”
“Shut up, Tom,” I interrupted bluntly.
“Yeah, shut up, Tom,” agreed Michael.
“What?” asked Tom, in mock innocence. “I’m just saying—”
“Well, don’t,” Max told him abruptly.
Tom sighed. “Anyway, talking of girls—”
“Which we weren’t,” said Max.
“—talking of girls, we need to decide who to invite to Max’s party next month.”
“I’m not having a party.”
“’Course you are,” Tom corrected him, “it’s your sixteenth. You’ve gotta have a party. Parties are a great opportunity for getting it on with birds.”
Max clucked like a chicken. Tom ignored him.
“Seriously, there are some fit birds at school who are just waiting for an opportunity to get me alone and—”
“Turn you down?” teased Max.
“Punch you in the face?” suggested Michael.
“Kick you in the balls?” I offered.
“Anyway, who exactly are all these girls who are queuing up for a piece of you?” Max enquired. “Jessica Miller, who called you a knobhead in science last week? Lucy Walker, who told you she wouldn’t go out with you if you were the last male on earth?”
Michael and I sniggered.
“No,” tutted Tom, “just… other girls. Anyway,” he said, looking towards Michael and myself, “you two divs must have some fit girls at your school you could invite. Rich girls really know how to look after themselves. And they act all innocent, but I’ll tell you what they really want—”
“For you to stay as far away from them as possible?” I suggested.
“Exactly the opposite, my friend. Posh girls like a bit of rough,” said Tom.
“Not that rough,” I told him.
“Yeah, not Allenbrook rough,” added Max.
“Plus, you do remember we’re at an all boys’ school, don’t you?” asked Michael. “Funnily enough that means there aren’t that many girls.”
“But you said there are girls in the sixth form. So invite some of them.”
“Why would sixth-form girls from a private school want to come to the sixteenth birthday party of some comp boy they’ve never met?” scoffed Max.
“Because I’ll be there!” Tom replied.
“That’s definitely not a bonus feature,” I told him.
“What about that girl you mentioned the other day?” Tom asked me. “Helen someone.”
“Who? Oh, Hellie… God, no. We’ve only spoken to her, like, two or three times—”
“I don’t think Hellie Larsen’s going to come to a party with us,” Michael smiled at me. “I think girls like her have much better things to do.”
I nodded.
“Is she fit?” asked Tom. “That’s all that really matters here.”
“I’m not even sure why she talks to us,” said Michael. “She probably wouldn’t give either of us the time of day outside of school.”
“God, you two are useless,” Tom moaned, “what’s the point of you being at a posh school if you can’t provide the posh totty.”
“Right, I can’t wait any
longer, I need a piss,” said Max standing up. “Anyone coming?”
“Coming for a piss with you?” asked Michael, sounding disgusted.
“Why would we want to do that?” I frowned.
Max pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and peered into the darkness.
“Are you scared of going for a piss on your own?” laughed Tom.
“Oh, come on, it’s pitch black,” Max complained.
“You’re joking,” I groaned.
“What do you think is possibly going to happen to you in the park?” asked Tom. “This is Timpton, not some gangland in South London. I don’t think people are just lurking in the darkness waiting to jump you.”
“My eyesight’s bad in the dark, I can’t see a friggin’ thing!”
“Oh, come on, you big wuss,” groaned Tom, standing up, “although if you’re gonna whip your dick out, I pray I can’t see a friggin’ thing.”
Once they’d disappeared into the darkness, Michael sighed.
“God, Tom can be irritating at times.”
“Yep,” I agreed. “It’s all just talk though. Especially all the chat about girls. It’s a load of crap. And that stuff about losing his virginity on a camping holiday in Cornwall is bollocks.”
“And he needs to lay off with his comments about you and Libby. It’s none of his business.”
“I’d never tell him anyway. I mean, when me and her do… you know… I’m not gonna just spout off about it. I mean, I’d tell you, but that’s it.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. ’Cause I think I’d wanna tell someone, and you… well, you’re different. I can trust you. I know you won’t be a dick about it.”
We fell silent for a moment, gazing out at the lit-up town.
“So what about you?” I asked. “Are there any girls you fancy? I mean, I know we’re not exactly spoiled for choice at St John’s, but what kind of girl would you go for?”
Michael looked up at the sky, chewing his lower lip.
“Can I…?” he started and then hesitated. “If I told you something, would you promise to keep it quiet?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, ’course.”
He took a deep breath. “It’s just… I think maybe… that maybe I’m…”
“He pissed on my shoes! He actually pissed on my fucking shoes!”
Tom emerged, fuming, from the darkness. Max, doubled-up with laughter, was following behind him.
“I wasn’t even that near him and he just swung round and aimed the bloody thing right at me! My new trainers! I’m never wearing these again!”
Max clutched his belly and staggered towards us, laughing uproariously. He flopped down next to Michael.
“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to!” he gasped, almost crying with laughter. “You spoke to me so I turned around—”
“You just have to open your mouth to reply! You don’t have to swing round and aim your sergeant major in my direction! That’s the last time I’m being your piss buddy!”
Max flopped backwards against the grass, his deep belly laugh aiming up at the night sky. It was so contagious that Michael and I started laughing with him.
“Disgusting,” muttered Tom, sitting down next to Max, who started protesting that if things were the other way round and Tom had pissed on his feet he wouldn’t have made half as much fuss.
I turned to Michael. “What were you going to say before?”
“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, shaking his head dismissively.
“So come on then, Galileo,” piped up Max, pointing up at the night sky, “what’s that massive shiny one just there?”
I followed the line of his finger.
“The flashing one? That’s what’s known as an aeroplane, Max.”
Max sat up and peered harder, before removing his glasses and wiping them with the hem of his jumper.
“I wonder what else is up there,” mused Michael, “beyond the stars and planets and all the bits scientists have discovered. I mean, how can it just go on forever? I can’t get my head round that.”
“Heaven?” offered Max, popping his glasses back on. “That’s got to be up there somewhere.”
“You don’t seriously believe that though, do you?” asked Michael.
Max shrugged. “Well, I dunno. Where else would it be?”
“But do you believe in, like, an actual heaven?” I asked him.
“Yeah. Why not? It’s where I’m going when I die anyway. I don’t know where you lot are off to.”
“What, ’cause we’re not believers?” scoffed Tom.
“No, ’cause you’re gits,” said Max.
“Yeah, whatever,” groaned Tom. “Well, I’m not going to heaven.”
“I don’t think any of us doubt that,” I told him.
“I should get home,” said Michael flatly, checking his watch and standing up.
“Ah, Blondie!” cried Max. “You’ve gotta get your curfew extended!”
Michael sighed and started to tell Max how he’d already approached his dad about a curfew extension and the angry rant he’d received in response.
“Hey,” Tom whispered, nudging me in the ribs, “we’ve gotta sort this party out for Max, okay?”
“What, so you can try it on with every girl we know?”
“No, you dope, because it’s his sixteenth. And because it’s Max. We’ve known him all our lives and he deserves a really good party. He’s a legend, and we’re his best friends, so we need to make it a special night for him, all right?”
I searched Tom’s face in the darkness, trying to figure out what went on behind those eyes. There were times when it was easy to forget that deep down he was a kind soul and an incredibly loyal friend. A lot of the time he did my head in, but despite all the bravado and mockery and insults, I had faith that he’d always come through for me in the end.
“You’re right,” I said, slapping him on the shoulder, “Max does deserve it. We’ll sort something out.” I stood up, ready to head back into town with Michael. “You two coming, or what?”
Max and Tom looked at each other.
“Nah, I think we’ll hang out a little longer,” said Tom.
“Oh, by the way,” said Max, “there’s a fairground in town next weekend. I saw a poster for it in the window of that place they’ve just finished renovating in town. The new pub, the Canal something—”
“The Canal House,” said Tom.
“Yeah, that one. Shall we go? Might be a laugh.”
Michael and I looked at each other unenthusiastically.
“I’m not sure,” I said, turning my nose up, “I thought we talked about going to see X-Men.”
“But you already saw it with Libby.”
“Yeah, but I missed half of it. We got there fifteen minutes late and then she kept nattering the whole way through and asking loads of questions.”
“We can see the film Sunday,” said Tom.
“Let’s vote,” said Max, “all those in favour of the fairground…”
Max and Tom both raised their hands, and then, tentatively, so did Michael.
“Might be fun,” he shrugged at me.
“That’s a majority vote then,” declared Max.
“Fine,” I yawned, “whatever. We’ll see you next weekend then.”
“Have a safe walk home, boys,” called Tom, lying back on the grass, “don’t go talking to any strangers!”
“They don’t come much stranger than you, Tom,” called Michael as we headed down the hill.
“Ha ha! Later, Blondie! Later, dickhead!”
“Later, shitface!” I called back.
“Goodnight, gentlemen!” called Max.
“See you, Max!” replied Michael.
“’Night, Max!” I called, glancing back over my shoulder, but he’d already faded away into the darkness of the star-studded night.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the team at Legend Press for their continued belief in my work, and for enabli
ng me to share these people, places and events which insisted on invading my imagination whether I wanted them to or not. I would also like to thank my children for putting up with the numerous canal-side walks I dragged them on during the summer of 2019.