by Holly Smale
For me, he tries to keep it simple.
There are 7,123,024,873 people in the world, and Nick keeps choosing me.
I look at him – sitting on the pavement, pulling at the holes in his jeans – and he suddenly looks so earnest, and so worried, and so nervous, and so totally un-Nick, that there are only two possible things I can do.
So I do both of them at the same time.
I leap up from my suitcase and I lob myself at him so quickly he falls over slightly and has to steady himself on his elbow. “Thank you,” I say into his ear. “Thank you for liking me.”
And I kiss him as hard as I can.
Reasons to Think About Nick
He always thinks about me.
I don’t know how long we kiss for.
Let’s just say it’s long enough to make the entire world and everybody in it melt and turn to vapour, and not quite long enough to get us arrested.
Which is good. My urge to see the inside of a Japanese prison is only a very small and transient one.
“OK, I just have one more question,” I say when I finally pull away, flushed and beaming with my lips all tingly and my heart all swoopy and my hair all sticky-outy, like a small dog who’s just been harassed with a hairdryer.
“Of course you do.” I’m pleased to note that Nick looks exactly the same as me, if not a bit beamier and more rumpled.
“How did you find this all out? Poppy didn’t confess all, did she?”
“Obviously not. FYI she’s currently on her way back to England. Yuka is absolutely furious and she’s made sure Poppy’s agent knows it. I think Poppy’s next modelling job will be staring vacantly out from a kitchenware catalogue with her hands on her hips,” Nick says. “Rin, Bunty and Wilbur helped, but most of it came from somebody else.”
“Who?”
Nick points into the distance. “Him.”
I follow his finger and stare at the huge crowd of people walking across the zebra crossing, dodging the bicycles. Then I stare a little bit harder. Because walking through the middle of them – wearing a T-shirt with a guitar drawn on it and a bright purple velvet jacket – is Toby.
Right, I give up.
I clearly know nothing about people at all.
Slowly, I stand up and wait for Toby to reach me. He starts playing Three Blind Mice on his T-shirt. After a few wrong notes he shrugs. “It’s so very important to make an entrance, isn’t it, Harriet? Although in hindsight, I wish I’d worn the drum-kit T-shirt. It’s a bit easier to play under pressure.”
I stare at him, too startled to speak.
“Hey, Nick,” he adds chirpily, waving with his spare hand. “I liked the wellies you were wearing earlier. Do you think they’d go with this outfit, or would it get a bit sweaty around the knee area?”
“Toby,” I finally manage. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m your stalker, Harriet. I’ve been here the whole time. What kind of terrible stalker would I be if I wasn’t?”
“But—”
“I’m getting really good at it, right? I don’t think you knew I was here at all.”
“But how are you here? You’re not even sixteen yet.”
“Oh, I’m here with my parents. They said we could go on holiday anywhere I liked to celebrate the end of my exams, but I just couldn’t decide where to go. That is until some information came to my attention last week.” And he actually winks at me. “They think I’ve been really busy with a school project.”
Toby looks extremely chuffed with himself. “I mean, you’re at my school, right? And this was a fascinating project. I found all sorts of incriminating evidence.” He pulls out photos and crumpled bits of paper and audio recordings and maps and drawings.
All this time I thought I was alone. But really I was surrounded constantly by people who cared about me: Toby, Nick, Wilbur, Bunty, Rin. I just couldn’t see them.
I don’t know whether to be incredibly touched or slightly creeped out.
“Toby – why on earth would you follow somebody 6,000 miles?”
“5,937 miles, to be precise.” He points behind me. “Do you know what that is, Harriet?”
Oh dear. I patiently follow the direction of Toby’s finger. “It’s a statue of a dog.”
“Not just any dog, Harriet. That’s a dog called Hachiko. He was a brown Akita dog and he was adopted in 1924 by a Tokyo professor called Hidesaburo Ueno.”
“Ah.” I nod politely. After everything he’s done, the least I can do is listen to one of his random facts. I make people do this for me all the time.
“Every day for a year Hachiko would come and greet Hidesaburo after work here, at this exact spot at Shibuya station. In 1925 the professor suffered a stroke at work and died, but Hachiko returned to the same spot every single day for nine years waiting for him to come back.”
Tears suddenly spring to my eyes.
“The dog waited for the rest of his life, and when he eventually died the people of Tokyo built a statue in the place he used to wait to commemorate his loyalty, and the fact that he never, ever gave up.”
I bite my lip. That’s one of the most beautiful stories I’ve ever heard.
It’s also exactly why I love dogs. Kylie Minogue would have waited about thirty seconds before going home with the next person who had food in their handbag.
“But it still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”
“Yes, it does, Harriet. I’m your Hachiko.”
And before I realise what’s about to happen, Toby darts forward and kisses me.
K:
Two kisses with two different boys in five minutes is not something I want to encourage.
Ever.
All kisses are not the same.
Ewwwwwww.
Toby really goes for it.
I mean: he really, really goes for it. He twists his head from left to right as if he’s trying to unscrew a light bulb from my mouth, and then attempts to lick my top lip, and then sort of opens and shuts his mouth like a baby bird trying desperately to get fed.
He tangles my hair in his fingers so I can’t get away without physically pushing him with both of my hands and losing quite a few strands in the process.
Which I do, obviously.
“Toby,” I snap, wiping my mouth on my hand. “Seriously. You have to wait for a signal before you kiss a girl. I did not give you any kind of signal at all.”
Toby looks completely undisturbed. “Did you not? I thought I saw one.”
“What signal did I give you?”
“You were looking very pretty, Harriet. And kind of boggle-eyed, like a little owl.”
I sigh. “That’s very nice of you, Toby, but a) that’s just my face and b) prettiness is not and never will be a kissing signal. It’s important that you realise that as soon as possible.”
I glance anxiously at Nick who looks – if anything – slightly amused. Isn’t he supposed to be fighting for my precious honour round about now? Isn’t he supposed to be throwing Toby against a wall and telling him not to touch His Woman again?
What kind of rubbish love triangle is this?
“That was my very first ever kiss,” Toby tells Nick. “How do you think it looked from there, buddy?”
Nick grins as I blink at both of them. “I think maybe you went in a bit too fast,” he says. “She looks a bit shocked.”
“Right.” Toby gets a little notepad out of his velvet jacket which – I’ve just realised – was his Charlie and the Chocolate Factory costume from two Halloweens ago. He scribbles something and then frowns. “Perhaps a simple customer announcement would be best? I am about to launch a kiss. That kind of thing?”
Nick shouts with laughter.
For God’s sake. Bella never had to put up with this kind of friendly, bonding nonsense in Twilight.
“You realise I’m still here, right?”
“Kissing is important stuff, Harriet,” Toby says solemnly. “We boys need to discuss it just as much as girls do, you know.
And we can’t just read Cosmopolitan.” He pauses. “Actually, we can but when our mums find it under our beds we have to have really long and confusing conversations about it.”
“Tobes, I really think maybe we should look into getting you a hobby other than me.”
“Actually I don’t want to be rude, Harriet,” he says thoughtfully, “but you’re not quite as good at this whole kissing thing as I had hoped. You just kind of stood there, smacking me quite briskly with your hands. It was a bit of a disappointment, if I’m being perfectly honest.”
My eyes widen, and Nick quickly stands up and puts his arm around me. He kisses my forehead. “I’ll volunteer for now,” he laughs.
Then he holds up his other arm. A taxi stops immediately and Nick pokes his head through the window. “Sumimasen,” he says flawlessly. “Tokyo-eki made dekirudake hayaku onegai shimasu.”
I keep forgetting Nick’s half Japanese. I may have to ask him to speak in other languages all the time. I had never realised bilinguality could be so attractive. “Where are we going?”
“Back to the beginning,” Nick says with a grin, opening the car door for Toby and me.
I’m just not sure which one.
ere is my absolute favourite fact of all time:
99.99999999999999999 per cent of every atom consists of empty space.
It sounds simple, but do you know what that means? It means that every single thing in front of you right now – the chair you’re sitting on, the shoes on your feet, the glasses on your nose, the chocolate in your mouth – is mostly not there.
And that includes you.
I know: mind-blowing, right? It doesn’t matter how many times I’m told this fact, it’s almost entirely impossible to process. And when it finally sinks in, it’s hard not to find it a bit overwhelming.
As I open the door to the flat I’m hit by a waft of sequins and lace and beetroot and perfume as Bunty, Rin and Wilbur all launch themselves at me. Within seconds a glitter-covered Rin is wrapped around my neck. There appear to be pink feathers in her hair. And some in Wilbur’s too.
I knew I shouldn’t have left them alone with my grandmother.
“Oh, Harry-chan!” Rin says into my T-shirt collar. “We are so very mistakable about Poppy! Kylie found cockroach box in her handbag! She is a naughty, naughty pretty girl!”
I notice the distinctly missing affectionate ‘chan’ from Poppy’s name. I think that’s as harsh as Rin is going to get. “I’m sorry,” I say, patting her on the back. Then I say what I haven’t said for ten years: “Umm – would you like to be friends?”
“Ooooh!” Rin says, clapping her hands in delight. “Yes please! I will come to seeing you in London! I will see Big Ben and Wheel and wear Top Hat and we shall be spoiling for choice and shall have BIG BLAST!” I laugh and Rin suddenly spots Toby. “It is nice to finally meet you,” she says, bowing slightly. “I am Rin. You must be Ted.”
“I’m not Ted, I’m Toby. Did you know that teddy bears have killed more people than real bears have?”
Rin’s eyes widen and she turns to me. “Harry-chan! He is just like you!”
I nod and grin at him fondly. “Yup.”
Toby’s eyebrows raise. “Are you going to try and kiss me again, Harriet? Because I strongly suggest you check your emails first in case I blow your mind and reading is rendered physically impossible. I think there might be something important.”
I frown at him and immediately turn and head straight to the bedroom to get my laptop. Seriously. Do I have to change all my passwords again?
Through the thin paper walls I can hear Wilbur’s high-pitched voice in the bathroom. With every second it’s sounding more and more like the agent I know and love.
“Really?” (Pause.) “For diddling?” (Pause.) “For shiddling, diddling?” (Pause.) “For shiddling diddling middling piddling?” (Pause.) “NEW YORK? OH MY DONKEY-CAKES! Are you McKidding me? I am the King of interested!”
There’s another pause and then Wilbur’s head pops round the bedroom door. He puts his hand over the receiver. “Yuka’s not the only designer in the world, my little Caramel-macchiato,” he whispers with a wink. “Let’s not forget that.” And his head disappears again.
I blink at the door, and then back at my computer.
For the attention of Harriet Manners
From the office of Yuka Ito
It would seem that new information has come to light. As a result, I would like to apologise and am withdrawing my offer of redundancy, effective immediately.
Yuka Ito
And, just like that, my adventure has come full circle. Things are back exactly as they were at the beginning. As if I’m still the geek hiding under a table at The Clothes Show Live, just about to be thrown haphazardly into the world of fashion. As if I’m still a girl who doesn’t know who she is or who she’s supposed to be.
As if nothing has changed at all.
Except it has.
I take the deepest breath I can find, and then type:
Dear Yuka,
I would like you to release me from my exclusive contract with you. I will not be accepting my job back.
I really appreciate everything you have done for me, but whatever those qualities you see in me are, they’re not going anywhere. This is me, and I’m stronger than I look.
I want you to give me the freedom to grow up, even if it’s scary. I want that adventure.
Thank you for everything you have taught me.
Goodbye.
Harriet
I’m just about to press SEND when Bunty wafts into the room.
“Did you get an apology, sweetie? I’ll give that to Yuka, at least. She always knows when she’s backed into a corner.”
I blink at my grandmother for a few seconds, and then my brain clicks. Nice to see you. When she saw Yuka outside the Arcade Hall, she said nice to see you. Not nice to meet you.
“Do you know Yuka?”
“Of course I do, sweetie. We’ve run in the same circles for years. I’ve been trying to tell her what’s been going on this whole time, but she just refused to listen. Typical Yuka. All talent, no ears.”
I stare at Bunty in amazement.
I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but can people please start telling me stuff?
“AND BOOOOOOM!” I hear Wilbur shout at the top of his voice. “LONDON CAN KISS MY GUCCI BOOTIES. AMERICA, HERE I COME.”
“Now, darling,” my grandmother says as I send the email and shut my laptop. Without warning she slams me into her embroidered breasts again. “It’s been lovely spending some proper, quality time with you, but it’s time to get going.”
I blink in disappointment. I was really starting to like her. I was kind of hoping we could spend a few weeks getting to know each other properly, and that it might be the start of a proper granddaughter-grandmother relationship of the non-Little Red Riding Hood/Wolf variety. “Now?” I ask her boob sadly.
“I’m afraid so, darling. We have a plane to catch.”
“We?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Bunty pulls back and I suddenly notice the bright expression on her face. She looks exactly as I felt earlier at the lake.
“Annabel has just gone into labour.”
K.
I don’t want to point out the obvious, but Annabel has gone into labour an entire month early. My new sibling is clearly a maverick with no respect at all for plans, schedules, appointments, or other people’s itineraries.
Just like my father.
Fifteen hours later, Bunty and I emerge at Heathrow only to be hit by a whirlwind of shiny hair and handbag and scarf and perfume, like a kind of girl-bomb.
“You’re home!” Nat shouts, almost knocking me over. “Finally!”
I look over her shoulder at the trolley she just hurdled. I have never seen her run that fast for anything, ever. Maybe she shouldn’t have given up PE for A Level after all.
“What are you doing here?” I laugh as she covers my cheek in
little hard bird-pecks. “I thought you’d still be in France.”
Nat flushes and manages to look cheeky and delighted all at the same time. “Erm, well …”
I narrow my eyes at her. My best friend looks totally incandescent. She’s also wearing a lot less make-up than normal and her hair hasn’t been straightened. Her natural scraggy curls are back and her fringe is slightly sticking out on the left-hand side. It’s very un-Nat-like. “Nat, what’s going on?”
“Hmm?” My Best Friend picks a bit of fluff off my hoody. “So – how was it? Did you see any dogs in dresses? Did people talk Japanese at you?”
“Excuse me,” Bunty says, smiling and handing me a little carton of coconut water. “Stay hydrated, darling. Air conditioner is a killer. I’m just going to go and find us a taxi outside.”
And she scoots off, her flip-flops making a clack clack clack sound on the floor. I turn back to Nat. “Right,” I say. “What’s happened?”
“Well, umm …” She clears her throat, looks at the ceiling and then looks at the floor. “Ooh – I like your shoes. Are they new?”
“Of course my shoes aren’t new, Nat. My shoes are never new. Stop changing the subject.”
Two red spots appear on her cheeks. “I may have …” she starts. “I mean, it’s possible that … I could have …”
“No offence, Nat, but this is like trying to talk to a dolphin. Try to get a whole sentence out.”
“I met a boy.”
The coconut water I’m sipping gets spat all over her.
“The guy with the green lycra?” I shout. “The guy with the olive oil? The guy with the meaningful salt?”
“It’s not like that,” Nat says indignantly. “He’s … lovely. And sweet. And super hot.” She goes a bit dreamy. “And he has this way of cracking his knuckles when he’s nervous that’s so cute. And he can totally kill it at Guitar Hero. And he has this amazing lilting accent like his voice is … on a boat or something.”
Like his voice is on a boat?
“Oh my God, Nat. You’ve got it really bad.”
She blushes even deeper. “I know. That’s kind of why I’m here. Mum found out and dragged me home again. She said falling in love was enough punishment for anyone so we were quits.”