No Sister of Mine (ARC)

by Vivien Brown

  disappeared. I don’t know if he had finished the last drops of beer somewhere over my head

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  and chucked the empty can off to the side of the room or if it had just slipped from his fingers and was making soggy stains on Frankie’s mum’s carpet, but Paul now had two free hands and

  seemed intent on making the most of them.

  ‘Wannanother drink?’ he said after a while, his words all melding into each other close

  to my ear, as one hand twisted its way into my hair and the other clutched at my bum.

  I nodded, glad to escape for some air and some much-needed thinking time – things

  were moving quite excitingly fast – and we made our way back through the hall and into the

  over-bright whiteness of the kitchen.

  ‘Sarah!’ Tilly was already there, pushing forward to whisper into my ear as Paul went

  looking for more drinks. ‘You’ve got a love bite!’

  ‘Have I?’ My hand went to my neck. ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘Don’t you know? Don’t you remember? Although I’d be more worried about how to

  hide it from your mum and dad if I was you.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. A big scarf maybe? Or a roll-neck pullover. I think there’s one in Eve’s

  wardrobe I could borrow.’ I giggled. Only one cup of wine, not even a full one, and I could

  feel its effects.

  ‘What? For school? I don’t think so.’

  ‘Make-up then. How bad is it?’

  Tilly rummaged in her bag for a mirror and held it up in front of my face. I turned my

  head and looked. It was bad.

  ‘Here.’ Paul was back. ‘Couldn’t find any girl drinks, except lemonade, so will this do?’

  He was holding out a small can of Guinness, and sipping from another just like it.

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ I said, having never tasted the stuff in my life before.

  ‘Wanna find somewhere a bit quieter?’ He had turned his back to Tilly and was looking

  out through the back door towards the garden where little lights twinkled along the path and I

  could see what looked like a fish pond in the middle of the grass and a greenhouse tucked away

  by the fence at the side.

  ‘Yeah, that’d be good.’

  Tilly raised her eyes as we went and mouthed a ‘Be careful’ at me, but Paul had hold

  of my hand now and we were soon outside and making our way down the garden, which was

  much longer than it had appeared from the kitchen, and away from the lights and music. Right

  at the end there was a little paved patio area, with tubs around its edges, the fat tips of new plants just starting to poke their way through the earth. There was a wooden bench in the corner, 38

  sheltered by an arch covered in something unseasonably leafy and green, making it feel very private and secluded despite the nearness of the party.

  I shivered, the thin silver dress being no match for a cold March evening.

  ‘Come here.’ Paul took the can out of my hand and placed it, alongside his own, on the

  ground at our feet as we sat down, then pulled me closer and draped an arm over my shoulders,

  his hand just skimming the top of my breast through the cloth. ‘I’ll keep you warm.’

  It felt good, and very grown-up, being alone together out there in the dark. I lay back

  as his lips finally closed over mine, his tongue pushing forward and into my mouth. It was

  warm and wet and tasted bitter and boozy from the drink. I opened my eyes, wanting to see

  him, to watch what he was doing at close range. Stars shone in the blackness of the sky above

  his head, giving us just enough light, and I could see the little pores in his skin, his eyelashes fluttering as he rolled his head around and concentrated on his task.

  His fingers, as cold as mine, found their way through the armhole of my dress and

  wriggled towards my nipple. The thought that someone might come outside and discover us at

  any moment sent a thrill through me. I felt my nipple harden, as if by magic, in his hand.

  ‘Paul . . .’

  ‘Don’t talk, Sarah.’ He pulled his face back, away from me, and looked right into my

  eyes. ‘You know I’ve always fancied you . . .’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Ever since I first saw you.’ He started kissing me again, picking up my hand from

  where it lay in my lap and placing it, palm first, against the lump in his trousers. ‘See. Can’t you feel how much I fancy you, Sarah? How much I want you?’

  ‘I . . . fancy you too,’ I murmured. A ripple of excitement ran through me. But I was

  scared too. ‘But I’ve never . . .’

  ‘Shhh. Me neither.’ He pulled back and looked me right in the eyes. Smiled. ‘But there

  has to be a first time, doesn’t there?’ Then he nuzzled at my neck again, his fingers still trapped inside my dress, rubbing and rolling at my nipple until I thought I was going to burst. ‘And I’d like mine to be with you.’

  How could I resist that? I was special to him, just as he was to me.

  ‘Have you got any, you know, condoms?’ I felt wicked even saying the word out loud

  for the first time.

  39

  His hand slithered out from my dress and reached into his pocket, bringing out a small square packet. ‘Yeah. Do you want to put it on for me?’ He was unzipping his trousers, pushing

  me right back on the bench, moving his body over mine so the stars all disappeared.

  ‘No. You do it. I’m not sure I . . .’

  ‘Okay.’ There was the sound of ripping, the fumbling of fingers, a quiet gasp as his own

  hand found what had been lurking in his trousers and released it.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he mumbled, already slipping my underwear down my legs. The new

  lacy ones I had bought just in case someone might get to see them, but he wasn’t looking at

  them at all. Just at my face, my eyes. ‘Sure you want me to do this?’

  I nodded and he pushed himself at me, haphazardly, thumping against my thighs, my

  skin, my bones, as if trying to find his way. He felt hard and wet, his movements becoming

  more urgent.

  ‘Open your legs wider,’ he ordered, his voice suddenly sharper, more desperate, as he

  pulled my knees apart, shoving hard at me and finally finding his way inside me, groaning

  loudly. Three pushes and he was done.

  We lay there, stuck together, my dress crumpled around my waist, my white knees bent

  upwards, the wooden slats of the bench cutting into my naked bottom.

  Was that it? Was that what all the fuss was about? It hadn’t hurt the way I’d expected

  it to, hadn’t sent any special feelings rushing through me, hadn’t done anything much to me at

  all. I felt disappointed, exposed, and suddenly a bit embarrassed. I didn’t say anything as he

  pulled away from me and sat up, adjusting his clothing and giving me time to adjust mine as I

  felt about on the ground for my lost knickers, found them in one of the plant pots and shook

  the earth out of them before awkwardly pulling them back on.

  He didn’t speak either. Just picked up the two cans of Guinness and handed one of them

  to me. ‘I think I need this,’ he said, laying his arms along the back of the bench and tipping his head back, gazing at the sky.

  I took a swig. It was thick, strong, nasty, and I pulled a face, but I drank it anyway.

  ‘It’ll be better next time,’ he said, talking about the sex, I assumed, and not the drink. It

  was good to know that there would be a next time, that this wasn’t just one of those spur-of-

  the-moment drunken lunges that happen at parties. Somehow that made it all right. It was all

  about
learning, wasn’t it? Trying out new things. And at least we had tried it, done it, together.

  ‘Yes, I expect it will.’

  40

  We sat there a bit longer, thighs touching, until the cold started to seep into our bones, and the liquid he had squirted inside me started to trickle out down my legs.

  And then, I don’t know why, but I started to laugh and, a few seconds later, so did he.

  A release of tension, I suppose. And knowing that, despite the uncomfortable let-down it had

  all turned out to be, neither of us was a virgin anymore. Another tick on the way to adulthood.

  And freedom.

  I wished I could tell Eve about it, the way I had always told her everything, but I also

  knew that this time I couldn’t, and that I probably never would.

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  CHAPTER 7

  EVE

  I had successfully avoided Josh for almost two weeks, taking care not to walk anywhere near

  his block, staying away from the bar, keeping one eye open for him whenever I was in any of

  the places he might suddenly appear. But I couldn’t hide forever. Fate finally caught up with

  me in the library. Josh was standing right in front of me as I looked up, a pile of books tucked under his arm and a stupid smile on his face.

  ‘Eve.’ He didn’t say any more than that. Didn’t move away either.

  ‘Oh. Hello.’ At least in the library there would be no shouting, no arguing. I kept my

  voice low. And my eyes.

  ‘I haven’t seen you around for a while. Not since . . .’

  ‘No. Sorry,’ I interrupted. ‘I’ve been busy.’

  ‘Too busy for a coffee? Could we, do you think? Only, I’d like to try to . . .’

  ‘Umm . . .’ I hesitated. I knew only too well what he wanted to try to do. Interrogate

  me. Push me for answers. What had he done wrong? Why had I run off like that? Was I okay?

  I just wished I could give him some sort of answers that made sense, but I didn’t know where

  to start.

  ‘Come on, Eve. Just for half an hour. A coffee. A bun. My treat.’

  I looked up at him, felt my insides lurch. The attraction was still there. But so was the

  fear.

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Okay then.’ I took a deep breath. Time to get it over with, then I could stop hiding.

  ‘Just for half an hour, then I really do have some work to do. An assignment due in.’

  ‘I won’t get in the way of your assignment, I promise. I can see your course is important

  to you. Poetry before people, right?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that exactly.’ I gathered my papers into my bag, watched him check out

  his books, and followed him out through the big glass doors. The weather was improving,

  clumps of bright-yellow daffodils dancing about in the borders and a few leaves starting to

  reappear on the trees. I saw his hand reach out for mine but chose to ignore it, switching my

  bag from hand to hand instead, making sure it hung there between us, like a barrier.

  42

  The coffee shop was busy but we found a table in a corner and Josh went up to the counter, returning a few minutes later with two coffees and three cakes on a tray.

  ‘Three?’ I said, nodding towards the cakes. ‘Are we expecting someone else, or do you

  just have a big appetite?’

  ‘Wasn’t sure what you’d like. Best to offer a girl a choice,’ he said, picking up his

  cardboard cup of coffee and blowing across the surface.

  A choice? Like whether or not to be kissed, to be touched, to have sex? Was that what

  he was hinting at, or was it just my imagination stuck on a topic I really didn’t want to explore?

  ‘I’ll have the doughnut then, if that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course it’s okay.’ He was studying my face, his own unusually serious. ‘Eve . . .’

  ‘Yes, I know, all right? I ran away that night, I left you standing there, I overreacted. I

  know it must have seemed odd, a bit mad . . . and I’m sorry.’

  ‘I’m not looking for an apology. Just trying to understand, that’s all.’

  ‘If I understood it myself I might be able to explain, but I don’t. Not really. It was just

  . . . I felt a bit rushed, pressured, no way out, you know. Like I had no . . .’

  ‘Choice?’ Josh smiled and lifted his hand, making a big show of hovering over the two

  remaining cakes.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Stop saying you’re sorry. It sounds like it’s me who should be apologising, if I made

  you feel that way. It was just . . . well, I thought we both wanted the same thing. And it was a kiss, Eve. Only a kiss.’

  ‘With your hand shoving its way into my clothes?’

  ‘Was it? It was bloody cold that night, Eve. Surely a hand . . . well, it was only inside

  your coat, wasn’t it? Not on bare flesh or anything.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Look, could we start again, do you think? I like you, and I thought you liked me. Okay,

  so we have absolutely nothing in common.’ His eyes twinkled in amusement. ‘Beauty and the

  Beast. With me as the beast, obviously! Maths and English. Numbers and words. Yin and yang.

  But opposites attract, right? How about we go for a drink later? Hands in my pockets at all

  times, I promise. Except to get my wallet out, or to go for a pee . . .’

  I couldn’t help but laugh. And I did like him. I really did.

  ‘Okay, yes.’ I took a bite of the doughnut and licked the sugar from my fingers.

  ‘You’ll come?’

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  ‘Yes, if I can get this assignment finished first. How about nine o’clock? Is that too late?’

  ‘Course not. But, just one thing . . .’

  ‘What?’

  He leant forwards and lifted his hand closer to my face as if he was going to touch me,

  then stopped himself and pulled away. ‘Sorry. Promised to keep my hands to myself, but you

  might want to know you’ve got sugar on the end of your nose.’

  I wiped blindly at my face, hoping the sugar was all gone, suddenly realising how much

  the way I looked – to Josh anyway – mattered to me.

  ‘I’ve missed you, Kid,’ he said, his head turned very slightly at the sort of angle that

  reminded me of a puppy, gazing upwards and appealing for a tickle.

  ‘Not so much of the kid. I’m only . . . what? Two years younger than you?’

  ‘Term of endearment, I can assure you. No offence intended. Now, or the other night.’

  ‘I know. And I’m—’

  ‘Don’t you dare say you’re sorry again. No more, okay? I’m imposing a fifty-pence fine

  for every time you do. Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’

  ‘Carry on like today and I’ll be rich within a week,’ he muttered, laughing and almost

  choking on the huge chunk of iced bun he had just crammed into his mouth.

  ‘D’you know, I think maybe I was wrong about you.’

  ‘Really? About what in particular? Because if you had me down as some kind of sex-

  mad Casanova, I’m really not. I’m more of your James Bond type actually. Smart, sexy,

  incredibly charismatic . . .’

  ‘Modest?’

  ‘Yeah, that too! And I always know how to treat a lady.’

  ‘By buying her a doughnut, you mean?’

  ‘And why not? What the lady wants, the lady shall have.’

  ‘Prat!’ I giggled and flicked at his arm. ‘No, I meant I was wrong about my first

  impressions of you, at that party. What I said about you not caring about anything much. I was

  a bit harsh. Because I think you do, don’t you? Care?’ />
  ‘About some things, yeah. If it’s people, then yes, I care. Definitely. I was raised a

  Catholic, had it drummed into me how important family is, and looking after others. There’s a

  lot of pain, sadness, hopelessness in the world, you know. My mum does a lot for a baby charity 44

  because she couldn’t have any more of her own, and the thing about never having any brothers or sisters is that friends come to mean a lot. I don’t go out of my way to hurt people on purpose.

  About my course, my boring financial future, maybe I don’t care so much. But, to be fair, you

  didn’t know me at all then, did you? Eyes across a crowded room and all that. Easy to make

  snap judgements. I probably came across as utterly shallow, and still do a lot of the time, but I’m hoping we can change that. Get to know each other better, I mean. Starting from tonight.

  How does that sound?’

  ‘Good.’ I smiled up at him, felt that warm glow creeping back over me. God, I hoped

  he wasn’t just spinning me a line. I so wanted him to be genuine, a nice guy, maybe my nice guy . . .

  ‘Right. Half hour’s up, and you did say you had things to do, places to be . . .’ He pushed

  his chair back, making an awful scraping sound on the tiled floor.

  ‘Yeah, I do. Sorry.’

  ‘Aha! That’s fifty pence you owe me.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’

  ‘Oh, yes. A bet’s a bet. All’s fair in love and war.’ He picked up the plate with the third

  cake on it and held it out to me. ‘Want this?’

  ‘No. You take it.’ I gathered up my coat and bag and walked towards the door, Josh a

  pace or two behind me. Knowing he could not see my face, I didn’t have to try to hide the smile that just seemed to creep up on me. And in that moment I felt special, as if someone had just

  offered me their very last Rolo.

  ***

  We took our time getting to know each other. Drinks in the bar, sitting together in the library,

  a coffee between tutorials. I didn’t tell him about Arnie. I didn’t want to, and I didn’t know

  how. But with the air cleared and the past shoved away behind us, we resolved to start again,