I gave a mock sigh and headed off again. I managed to complete one lap, a little faster, without tumbling over. The man in the red scarf skated over and held out his hand.
‘Fancy joining me and my friends?’ he said and jerked his head towards the middle of the rink. A line of people had formed, holding hands and skating around, the one on the end going fastest.
Perhaps it might be fun. I said yes. But the line built up speed, me whizzing fastest on the end. We shot past Kit and he shouted my name. Faces zoomed past and I held on as tightly as I could. This was a mistake. I was in no way experienced enough to cope at this pace. Feeling out of control, I yelled at people to get out of the way. The rest of the line was laughing. Unlike me, they were shouting with amusement. Kit drew nearer, and reached out but it was no good – I felt too scared to grab his arm.
Kit’s friend who worked there stood at the side waving, calling for the line to split up. But his words were ignored. We turned a corner. A family of four loomed up ahead.
I was going to go straight into the back of the little boy.
10
Shaking, legs feeling weak, mouth dry, I yanked my hand free from the line and managed to direct my body towards the nearest part of the wooden surround. I couldn’t slow down. The speed was too high to push my heels outwards. I hit it at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. I groaned and bounced backwards before collapsing onto the ice.
A pair of hands tucked under my armpits and carefully hauled me up. I held onto Kit, fighting to breathe.
‘Fern? Are you okay?’ he said, and his voice caught.
My chest hurt. I gulped for air. A crowd gathered around as tears formed in my eyes. Within seconds he’d helped me off the ice, one arm around my waist. He let go of me at an outdoor table a couple insisted on vacating. He brushed hair out of my eyes. I bent over, gasping, trying desperately to end the terrifying sensation – was this what it felt like to be drowning?
Kit crouched down and placed his hands on my shoulders as spots of rain began to fall.
‘Look at me, Fern,’ his voice shook. ‘Focus on my face. You’re okay. You’ve been winded. Breathe, in and out, in and out… that’s it, the worst is over.’
Someone brought over a bottle of water. At last I gained control of my breathing again, the pain in my chest ebbing away.
‘Is there anything I can do? Anything at all?’ Kit asked as he stood up.
I shook my head and drank out of the plastic bottle. His friend came over to check I was okay. The line had been broken up. He said lessons had been learnt about safety and that was what the trial sessions were for. The man in the red scarf came our way.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said.
‘It’s okay,’ I replied. ‘I should never have agreed to join you and your friends. I’m not that experienced.’
He nodded and left. I got up and drained the bottle of water. Kit took it from me and threw it into a bin.
‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to go home,’ I said. ‘I feel a bit shaky, to be honest.’
He took my arm. ‘Do you think we need to get you checked out? At A & E?’
‘No. I’ll be fine. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t put right – or a hot chocolate. How about we find a quiet, warm café?’ I just wanted to get away from people’s curious eyes.
‘Sounds like a plan,’ he said and put an arm around my shoulders as we headed towards the narrow alleyway we’d come through an hour ago. My knees still hurt from the impact. The jolly Christmas music became faint. At least the alleyway was empty and I could compose myself. I stopped for a moment as my back twinged. Rain fell more heavily.
‘I… I can’t bear to think of you getting hurt,’ he said. ‘If anything had happened…’
I gazed at his lips. ‘You’d kiss it better, right?’ I said, chin trembling.
He opened his mouth and then closed it as a crowd of laughing people hurried past. We reached Chesterwood high street and went into a bar that did hot drinks. Jazz played in the background. The place wasn’t very full. We sat by the windows. Rain flicked against the glass. The waiter brought over our drinks, with an inch of whipped cream on top.
I took a mouthful. The sugar and fat hit immediately perked me up. I put down the mug. Kit smiled, picked up a paper napkin and softly wiped a blob of cream from my nose.
‘How do you feel now?’ he asked after I’d drunk some more.
‘Embarrassed more than anything. Being a damsel in distress isn’t really my thing.’
‘You were hardly that – putting yourself at risk to avoid that young lad.’
But I wasn’t really listening, my spirits sinking again. I stared at the bubbles of air floating on top of the creamy brown liquid. We sat in silence for a while.
‘What if I’d injured myself?’ I said eventually, ‘Or worse? Lily’s only got me now. When I got winded… when I couldn’t breathe, I thought I was dying…’ My voice cracked. ‘I can’t ever afford to let her down.’
Kit took my hands. ‘It must be hard, since Adam died… the sole responsibility.’
I tried to keep my voice steady. ‘I worried all the time at first. Every little health problem I had. I got the flu and told myself it was pneumonia. That Lily would be left alone. I avoided driving on the motorway for ages, in case I had an accident. And I’d never walk out in the dark on my own, even if it was just down to Davina or Cara’s house.’
He squeezed my fingers. ‘Well, you’re okay tonight.’
‘Hmm. It’s just my pride that’s broken.’ I took my hands away and tried to smile. ‘Thanks, Kit. You’re a great listener.’
He raised his eyebrows.
‘You seem surprised I said that.’
He paused. ‘You know the last thing my mum said to me? We were having an argument…’
I leant forward. Kit had never told me exactly why he no longer saw his parents.
‘She shook her fist. Said that I never listened to her and my dad. And she was right.’
He took a gulp of hot chocolate and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Right. That’s me done. Unless you want another shot of the good stuff.’
‘No. I’ll just pay. And before you protest, consider it payment for getting me back on my feet tonight.’
We ventured outside. The rain pelted down. Perhaps it was the shock, or the tiredness I felt due to organising the calendar on top of work, but as we walked into the supermarket car park, tears slid down my face. My chest still hurt, and my back. My knees twinged.
What if I’d suffered a serious head injury or had a heart attack and died? If Lily went to live with grandparents she’d miss her school friends. And I wouldn’t have had time to write my own little book of advice for her, like her dad had.
I fumbled in my handbag for the car keys as we stood by the driver’s door.
‘Sorry, won’t be a minute,’ I said and looked up at Kit.
‘You okay, Fern?’ he asked.
My face kind of crumpled. Kit stood tall, rain falling in torrents now, making his hair look even less groomed than usual. He took off his hat and let it fall. Slowly his hands unzipped my coat and slid around my ribcage. We stared into each other’s eyes. My heart beat loudly in my ears, louder than the rain and the internal voice asking me what the hell was happening. I stood on tiptoe and leaned forwards, taken over by an uncontrollable urge to feel his body against mine, to smell his skin, to taste his mouth… The restraint I’d mastered at the cinema and pool melted away as he bent down.
Our mouths found each other. My hand slipped around his neck. Our lips parted.
The storm made me feel reckless.
My fingers clasped a handful of his hair and I pulled him closer. Kissed him as hard as I could.
He gave a groan and responded by shifting us against the car and lifting me upwards. My feet were off the ground. Once more I couldn’t breathe, but this time for all the right reasons.
It felt so natural, so good – until a clap of thunder resound
ed across the car park.
Kit froze before moving backwards. I slid down the car. He looked at the ground.
‘You’re so lovely,’ he muttered. ‘But we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry…’
‘Don’t apologise, Kit. We both wanted it…’
‘But it’s wrong. We can’t…’
The fluttering in my stomach was replaced by knots.
He picked up his hat. ‘I’m not ready for a relationship.’ He looked at me. ‘You and Lily could do so much better.’
11
Lily jumped up and down as we stood outside the bottle green school gates – partly to keep warm and partly out of excitement for the fireworks. My palms felt sweaty. I didn’t feel quite as enthusiastic. It was Bonfire Night. The school put on a small display each year. They got a professional company in, with pyrotechnicians and a security team. It was owned by one of the school governors and he charged Birchwood Primary at a discounted rate. Last year the show lasted ten minutes and then everyone congregated around the blazing bonfire, relishing the heat it gave off. Teachers manned stalls inside the hall selling burgers and hot drinks. It was a real treat for the infant school children to stay up until what would be late for them on a school night. Yesterday in the playground little Lex hadn’t been able to stop talking about having a night out in the dark with her friends.
During the weeks running up to it, local residents brought in bits of spare untreated wood and by the fifth of November a huge pyramid of old fencing, pallets, branches, brambles and hedge clippings had formed. I tightened my scarf and smiled at Audrey. We’d all visited Cara’s on Saturday for sparklers in the back garden and chilli con carne inside. Not even the children had felt like staying outside in the bitter air for long, despite the fun they had drawing their names and squiggly snakes in the air. Cara made a milder chilli meal for the children but used plenty of spice for us adults. As to be expected it was delicious, although she was disappointed the rice was mushy and reckoned she must have added too much water during cooking.
John made up for it by being mushy with her. He drank too much, again, and told Cara she was the best wife ever. Davina and I talked about it the next day. Perhaps John wasn’t responsible for the recent change in our friend, the black eyes and absentmindedness – such as running out of matches for the sparklers. John had to dig out his old lighter from before he gave up smoking. And in previous years her Bonfire Night meal had started with dips, but she’d put the plate of nachos right near the edge of the kitchen unit and it fell off, crushing them into bits.
In any other parent’s world these would have been small incidents but in the past Cara’s domestic life had always run as smoothly as a vegetable puree on MasterChef. She hadn’t even insisted on the usual disco the end of the evening where she’d play pop music and do silly dances with the children.
‘The car almost skidded this morning, on the way to the shops,’ said Davina. ‘Black ice everywhere.’
‘You’ll have to be careful walking around, Audrey,’ I said. ‘The last thing you want is another broken ankle.’
Audrey adjusted her woollen beret, unforgiving straight grey hair poking out from underneath. ‘Yes, although…’ She patted Cara’s shoulder. ‘It’s been a joy to spend more time with the family these last months and I’m very grateful.’
She and Cara had thought they didn’t have much in common before she came to stay. But it turned out that they both enjoyed reading feel-good romance novels and watching detective series on the telly.
The school caretaker opened the gates and I didn’t know where to look. Children grinned at him as they passed. Tommy’s mum, Mia, stopped for a chat, laughing at her own jokes.
‘Are you going to light the bonfire, Mr Carlton?’ asked Jasper, staring up as we passed.
Mr Carlton – he was Kit. That’s why I’d felt nervous about tonight and seeing him again after that kiss.
‘No. You have to have special training to do that,’ he said and stepped backwards to let the crowds through. Cara and her family pressed ahead and I went to join them but Lily dragged me back. Kit was a popular figure in the school. The children giggled at his funny faces and said he had magic powers because he always seemed to know when someone needed cheering up.
‘What, like being a police officer?’ asked Arlo. ‘Is there a special fireworks training school?’
‘Yes. It’s like Hogwarts except instead of going by train, a giant firework flies you there.’
‘You’re being silly,’ said Arlo.
‘Don’t be so rude,’ said Davina and smiled before moving away with the twins.
‘Mr Carlton…’ said Lily.
‘Come on, Lily,’ I said, briskly. He surely had lots to do. ‘We need to get a good spot.’
I may have been able to avoid him on social media but there was no avoiding him in daily life. Every morning in the playground he was opening classrooms and picking up litter. Usually when I went to collect Lily he was on the roof checking guttering or turning off lights, perhaps directing the cleaning staff or chatting to shiny-eyed mums, or dads asking for DIY tips. I’d just kept out of his way since last week. I hadn’t texted him. He hadn’t texted me.
I’d needed to compute what had happened.
No doubt so did he.
‘What is it, Lily?’ he asked. ‘And can I just say how much I like your hat. Are those plaits down the side your own? Have you dyed your hair purple?’ Kit bent over and tugged on them. Her hat moved from side to side and he made a comical expression.
She giggled. ‘No, they are made from wool. Mr Carlton… What made you so tall? Because I want to be a firefighter when I’m older. Did you eat lots of broccoli? Mum’s always said that will make me big and strong.’
A firefighter? That was news to me. Last month it was a sports teacher. And in the summer she’d wanted to become a professional footballer.
‘It’s a secret,’ he said and crouched down. ‘But I don’t mind sharing it with you. The key to growing up really tall is to eat all your vegetables, get a good night’s sleep and laugh hard every day.’
‘Oh. So Mum was right after all.’ Lily looked disappointed.
‘Parents usually are,’ he said, and a sad expression crossed his face before he pulled on one of her plaits once more. He looked at me. I looked away. He stood up and left.
‘It never gets old, does it, looking at that view,’ murmured a mum next to me as Kit headed off in his jeans and waist-length bomber jacket.
‘Fern! Over here!’ shouted John.
I waved back and hurried over. John looked tired, having done well to rush back in time from the office. The children stood in front of us, right by the rope fencing everyone off. Audrey stood behind Lex, and when the countdown to the start of the show began, positioned her hands over the little girl’s ears. Lily slipped her arm through mine. Davina and Max stood hand in hand. Cara had crouched down, ready to ooh and ahh with children like she did every year.
Pops of colour shot into the sky – green, red, blue, gold, each lighting up Lily’s mesmerised face. We admired a silver waterfall and multi-coloured spinning wheel. Ten minutes was enough, as every second exploded with sound and colour. I breathed in the aroma of smoke and nostalgia filled my head. Adam and me standing alongside the Thames, New Year’s Eve, watching the capital’s skyline light up as January was counted in. As the London Eye lit up pink he’d pulled a small box out of his pocket. Despite the crowds he’d knelt down on one knee – into a puddle of beer. We’d laughed about it afterwards. People around had started to cheer and not just because of the New Year’s celebrations. I didn’t believe I’d ever be happier than I was in that moment. We’d wrapped our arms round each other and watched the end of the display. My heart had felt as if it were popping with love, just like the fireworks bursting into the sky.
It had popped after the ice rink. Me against the car. Kit’s arms around my waist.
But it wasn’t what he wanted.
‘Did you se
e that?’ said Lily as one circle of stars lit up inside another. I nodded and held her closer. It all ended rather cleverly with a firework running down a line of wire that was tied to a tree, and into the pyramid of stacked wood. The bonfire sprang into life and the fenced off area was made smaller so that spectators could get nearer and enjoy the warmth.
I squinted as Kit appeared on the other side of the bonfire. He was talking earnestly to a security guard. One of the children bobbed underneath the rope with a twig in his hand. Quicker than kindling lighting, he ducked under too and hauled him back.
Davina nudged me and grinned. ‘Quite the hero isn’t he, our caretaker? Such a shame he’s already taken. Arlo says he’s got a girlfriend. Tommy told him. One of his mum’s clients is a parent here too and saw them kissing in the park at the weekend.’
My mouth felt dry. Kit? Dating? That couldn’t be right. He’d told me he wasn’t ready for romance. ‘Mia seems to have her finger on the pulse of local gossip.’
Davina shrugged. ‘Well, she is a beauty therapist. I know I tell my hairdresser things my sister doesn’t even know. She’s probably got a good listening ear.’
‘Hmm, she was the first to know about those two governors having an affair and that big fall out the Parents’ Association had last month.’
‘Mia’s in the wrong job. She’d be the perfect journalist,’ said Davina and carried on before I could protest. ‘Apparently this woman of his has glossy brown hair and the figure of a marathon runner.’ She shrugged. ‘Guess it makes sense. He’s obviously into sport as well. I wonder what—’
Lily pulled on my arm. I gave Davina an apologetic look and glanced down. ‘Mum. I really need the loo. Come with me. You’ll see the cool soap machines they fitted last week. The liquid that comes out of them smells like holidays.’
On the way back, Lily ran ahead to let Hannah smell her coconut fragranced hands. My stomach was churning. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Davina said.
A girlfriend? Kit? Then why did he kiss me?
The Christmas Calendar Girls Page 7