Cross Your Heart, Connie Pickles

by Sabine Durrant

  Our little procession made it back into the kitchen, through the people in the hall – ‘Excuse me. Thank you. Sorry. Can you – There we go. OK. Sorry Thanks’ – up the stairs to the first floor, along the landing, and then up to Delilah’s bedroom in the attic. There were pots of make-up and powder all over her desk and items of clothing and shoes all over the floor. A hand mirror with ‘Delilah’ written in three-dimensional paint on the back was balanced on the window frame. William shifted Sam’s weight from his arms to his shoulders and managed to launch her over the bars of the platform bed on to the mattress beyond. I climbed the ladder and covered her with Delilah’s duvet.

  ‘There,’ I said, smoothing her hair from her face. ‘She should be OK now.’ But when I turned round William had left the room.

  I’d had enough then. I stood looking out of the window at the patchwork of dark gardens below. The house seemed to shake and thump. If it wasn’t for Julie and Delilah downstairs, I would have tried to climb out, shimmy across the roof to my own ledge. What was happening at home? What was Jack thinking? He couldn’t have fallen asleep with the racket through the walls. Was Mother back? She wouldn’t stand for it, that’s for sure. Would she be with Mr Spence? What was I going to do about that? I looked at my face in Delilah’s hand-painted mirror. I looked pale and sober. On impulse I picked up a tube of lipgloss and ran it over my lips. It tasted like cherry chewing gum (which is nothing like cherries, but quite delicious in its own way).

  And then I went back downstairs.

  I could tell something had happened the moment I rounded the landing. Shouts were coming from the sitting room, not wild exuberant shouting, but angry shouting. I stood at the top of the stairs. The music suddenly stopped and the shouts became more distinct. Julie’s voice was in there, angry but controlled. So was Delilah’s – tearful. And a girl’s voice I didn’t recognize shrieked, ‘You slag! You slag!’

  I jumped down the stairs and reached the sitting room as Toyah Benton charged at Delilah. Delilah was clinging to the boy in the skullcap, who was trying to get away from her. Toyah Benton didn’t know who to clobber: the boy in the skullcap – Darius, oh, DARIUS, THAT DARIUS – or Delilah. Her fists were going everywhere. ‘You… I’m… get that… I’m gonna… you…’

  Then William was there, pulling her off them. Delilah fell back and started whimpering on the sofa. Two of the girls with long blonde hair sprang out of the crowd to comfort her. Toyah Benton was yelling at William now, but he was saying something to her and slowly she stopped and started crying. Three girls came round her too, whispering to her, occasionally shouting abuse – ‘How could you do that to her ?’ – at Darius, who was just standing looking hopeless, scuffing his feet, by the door. Not cool, but dim. People began to drift away. Toyah Benton stalked out of the house. Darius followed. You got the feeling their evening had only just begun.

  I glanced around for Julie. I was sure I’d heard her voice. But I couldn’t see her. Ade had disappeared too. William was standing by the group on the sofa. I remember thinking how all that cycling had filled him out. He saw me watching and came over. ‘She’s such a little idiot,’ he said. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s doing. Someone’s got to take her in order before she gets herself into serious trouble.’

  There was a note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. Not about Delilah anyway. What would you call it? Concern? Tenderness? I gave him a long look. I thought about him kissing me. ‘It looks like you’re her knight in shining aluminium,’ I said finally.

  I don’t know what he was going to say then – it was the first time either of us had made any reference to the other afternoon – and now I’ll never know because at that moment there was a renewed squeal from the sofa. The long-blonde girls were on their knees on the floor, rummaging around in the cushions, while between them Delilah, her hands to her ears, was sobbing. ‘Mummy’s earring. It’s gone.’

  ‘More help is needed!’ I said. William looked at me as if trying to read something in my face.

  ‘Connie?’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  He looked at me for a moment longer. ‘Nothing.’ Then he turned away and went over to Delilah. She wailed, ‘Will,’ and hugged him. I didn’t wait to see what happened next. I left the room and went to find Julie.

  She wasn’t in the hall, or on the stairs. She wasn’t in the kitchen. I finally found her back in the garden, having a cigarette. Her make-up was smudged under her eyes, but she was calm. Ade, she told me, had left. She never wanted to see him again. ‘What… what happened?’ I asked.

  ‘He and that tosspot Darius were, what do you call it, “sharing” Delilah. Taking it in turns.’

  ‘She’s out of her head,’ I said. ‘She’s been drinking all day…’

  ‘I know. I don’t blame her. Although I do think she needs to seriously rethink her life. I just think how desperate would you have to be to do that? Ade, I mean. It’s like he had to prove something. Now I’ve chucked him he’s begging me, saying he was just trying to make me jealous, but I don’t care what it was. It’s just pathetic’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What a terrible party.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They always are.’

  ‘Are they?’

  Julie laughed at my expression. ‘It’s the pressure of having to enjoy yourself. These are the best years of our lives. People are always telling us that, aren’t they? So if you are not having the best crack ever, you think, what’s wrong with me? I’m missing out. Everyone else is having a great time and I’m not. But you know, sometimes I think, well…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That we’ve got the rest of our lives too.’

  We sat out there for a long time, talking about this and that, until we got too cold to sit out any longer. Julie’s mum wasn’t expecting her home – she thought she was at her dad’s, remember – so I asked if she wanted to sleep over at mine. She said she did. We got up – my limbs felt stiff – and went back into the party to say goodbye.

  It was quiet now. Most people had left. The kitchen floor stuck to our feet as we crossed. Bottles lay everywhere. Three girls and Cal from the Isle of Wight were eating bread at the table. A boy with three earrings in one lobe had passed out in the corner. Through the door to the back sitting room you could see two people lying together on the sofa.

  I should have walked on, but I didn’t. They were asleep. I stood in the doorway and watched them. Her head was on his shoulder. His arms were round her. Julie was waiting for me by the front door. I had to go. But I couldn’t tear myself away I thought if I stood there a little longer, William would wake up and see me. He would shake Delilah off. He’d come over to me. I’d never noticed how long his eyelashes were before, or how muscular his arms. He made Delilah look very small.

  He was my friend, my best friend. He smelt of pavements and peppermint. And he was with Delilah.

  What had I done?

  ‘Are you coming?’ Julie was outside, calling me. ‘I’m cold. I want to go to bed.’

  I pulled my eyes away and followed her to the door and out to the street. We let ourselves into the house. There was no sign of Mother or Mr Spence. Jack had pulled out the sofa bed and was under the duvet, asleep.

  We made ourselves some toast and tea and came up here to my room. I made up a bed with the spare pillow and eiderdown on the floor, and we talked for a while. I didn’t tell her about seeing William with Delilah. Not at first. Instead we talked about parents and love, about Ade. Julie said he’d made a fool of her and then, her voice croaky with tiredness, said some things about her stepmother she’d never said to me before, how she liked her, but she just wished she was someone else’s stepmother, how she never got her dad to herself. I told her about Mother and how guilty I felt about our ‘games’. ‘I wish we hadn’t split her up from Uncle Bert now,’ I said.

  ‘Did we?’ she said. ‘I thought Sue came back from her work trip and whipped him in. We didn’t do anything.’

  �
��Yes, we did. I said things to put Mother off, and made Marie sick. And – oh, I don’t think I ever asked. What did you do that very first day, the day of your first date with Ade, to make him cancel?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘You must have done. Why else did he cancel?’

  ‘It was the day Sue got back. She rang to tell him to pick her up from the airport.’

  ‘Really? So that wasn’t us… ?’

  ‘Apparently not.’

  Then I told her about making a fool of myself with John Leakey; how I just cringe when I remember it now, I don’t know what I was thinking. She said how I shouldn’t beat myself up and, ‘Great arse.’ And we started laughing then and couldn’t stop. When we finally managed to control ourselves she said, ‘What happened with William in the end?’

  I lay on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. ‘I really like him.’

  ‘He’s got a great arse too.’ We both laughed, but for not so long that time.

  Finally I said, ‘I think he’s with Delilah now.’

  Julie yawned. ‘That won’t last,’ she said.

  And pretty soon after that she was silent and I realized she was asleep.

  Sunday 23 March

  Bathroom, 6.30 p.m. (still not feeling too good)

  Woken first thing this morning by the smell of bacon wafting up the stairs.

  Retched and went back to sleep.

  Woken the second time by Mother calling me to get up for church.

  Groaned and went back to sleep.

  Finally woke to the sounds of Julie moving around my room, getting her clothes on. ‘Lunch with Uncle Bert,’ she whispered, crouching next to me. ‘Gotta go.’

  She tiptoed out and I thought I’d go back to sleep again, but I couldn’t. The events of last night seeped into my head. All I could think about was William. William, William, William. William and Delilah.

  Downstairs was quiet. I wondered if they were all at church. When had Mother come back last night? Was Jack still there? Was William still next door?

  My head felt as if someone had sliced the top off and replaced it with sawdust. If I left my eyes open for too long they began to dry out. Someone had been at them in the night with sandpaper. I tried to remember, but I think I’d only had one cup of Delilah Bite. There had been a moment of dizziness early on in the evening, but after that: nothing. So why did I feel so terrible now? Lack of sleep? Or William?

  Tea started to seem the only thing for it, and I got out of bed – or rather off the floor – and made it downstairs.

  I wasn’t alone, after all. Cyril and Marie were in the garden. And Jack and Mother were sitting at the table, drinking coffee. ‘Α-ha!’ Mother said brightly when she saw me. ‘Good evening?’

  ‘Is it evening already?’ I said.

  ‘I meant did you have a good evening?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said non-committally, and went into the kitchen. I could just feel their raised eyebrows behind me. This wasn’t me. Some bolshy teenager had invaded my body.

  When the kettle had boiled I slumped into the chair next to Jack, nursing my mug. ‘Still here?’ I said. Was he acting on my tip-off of the evening before?

  ‘Shouldn’t I be?’ he said. Mother laughed.

  ‘Oh God. Whatever,’ I said, and stomped upstairs.

  I had a shower in our new Mr Spenced bathroom and felt a bit better. When I came out Jack was waiting on the landing. ‘You all right?’ he said. ‘You seem a bit…’

  ‘’Sfine,’ I said.

  ‘OK. Well, I’m off then –’ He turned to go.

  ‘Jack –’ I said.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Did you sleep over?’

  He laughed. ‘Yes, but she didn’t. You’re not the only one who spent a night on the tiles.’

  ‘Oh.’ That was disappointing. (And, if it meant she’d spent it with Mr Spence, disgusting.) Still, it was early days. I called after him, ‘Remember what I said, though.’

  He was halfway down the stairs, but he came back up and ruffled my wet hair. He shook his head. ‘You just worry about yourself, little one,’ he said.

  I got dressed and told Mother I was going next door. Cyril and Marie were at a friend’s and she was lying on the sofa having ‘a nice quiet afternoon’ – for which read hangover. The World at One was on the radio in the background. The newscaster said something about the end of the war being in sight. ‘We’ll have a chicken tonight, OK?’ Mother said. ‘A special chicken.’

  I’d put on some of her lipstick. I didn’t know if William would still be at Delilah’s. That won’t last. Julie had said that, hadn’t she? And Julie usually knew about these things. Maybe it had ended already. I couldn’t believe Delilah really cared for him. He was just one of her games, part of her collection, another name for the Snog Log. So I wouldn’t be hurting her, would I, if I let him know how I felt? I kept replaying every nice thing William had ever said to me. The valentine card I’d been so rude about. I knew he liked me, so why did I feel so nervous?

  Delilah’s house was… well, to say it was a mess would be putting it mildly. It looked and felt as if an army of Labradors had waded through a muddy pond, splashed through a sweet factory and then bounded in and shaken themselves on every surface. And then they’d tucked any valuables under their paws and legged it.

  A half-hearted cleaning process was under way. Sam was in the hall, sweeping broken glass into a dustpan. ‘Hiya,’ she said when she saw me.

  ‘You all right?’ I said.

  ‘Yeah.’ She looked pale but alive. She’d probably had more sleep than the rest of us put together.

  The furniture was back in the front room, and the doors to the back room were closed. There was a boy scrubbing the carpet, but it wasn’t William – it was the bloke from the Isle of Wight, the one who’d made the French-kissing comment. Cal, was it?

  ‘You’re supposed to do circles working in,’ I said. ‘The other way round you’re just spreading the stain.’

  He looked up. ‘Oh, hello. Did you crash here too?’

  ‘No. I live next door.’

  He stood up and looked at his watch. ‘I’d better be off soon. I think I’ll call a cab.’

  I said it must be expensive getting a cab all the way to the Isle of Wight and he laughed and said, ‘I don’t live on the Isle of Wight. I live in Hammersmith. I just go there on holiday.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  He was saying something else, but I was trying to work out if it was William’s voice I could hear in the kitchen.

  ‘Sorry?’

  He said, ‘I’m sorry if I scared you off last night.’

  ‘You didn’t.’ It wasn’t William’s voice. It was too high.

  ‘But you have got very nice eyes.’

  I was about to run away; that’s what the old Connie Pickles would have done. But something stopped me. Nice eyes! I have nice eyes! I grinned instead, a stupid grin, I’m sure, but he grinned back and – you know what? – it actually felt quite nice.

  ‘Connie! Connie! Help!! You’re here! Thank God!’ Delilah, passing the door, had spotted me. ‘They’ll be back in an hour. What am I going to do?’

  I left Cal ringing for a cab, and followed her back down to the kitchen. William wasn’t there, but Sam’s brother was sitting at the kitchen table, looking miserable. At least he was alive. Delilah, rummaging around under the sink for a bucket, explained someone had nicked his iPod. ‘Yeah, and I know what they look like and everything, and I’m going to come to your school and get them,’ he squeaked.

  ‘But you didn’t have a chance to “get them” last night?’ I said.

  ‘Nah. I went up to her parents’ room to think about it and I… I fell asleep.’

  ‘I seem to be the only one who didn’t get a bed around here!’ sang Delilah happily.

  The only evidence of William was in her face. She was having problems with the floor – the more water she applied, the stickier it seemed to get – but she wasn’t getting cross
or panicked. She was laughing and fooling about. She’d had a shower and her hair was pulled up into a towel-turban. She was wearing the pink gown from Oasis that William had used that time to mop up the tea. For a girl who’d snogged three boys, caused two break-ups and drunk a gallon of mixed spirits, not to mention destroyed her parents’ house, she was looking remarkably cheerful.

  I couldn’t stand it. I said, ‘Did you find Tanya’s earring?’

  Her face fell. Her mouth twisted in anguish. ‘No. No. I reckon that cow who tried to hit me nicked it. William and I’ve looked everywhere. I thought I’d put this one back in her jewellery box and it’ll be ages before she notices and maybe she’ll think she lost it herself. William says –’

  I interrupted. ‘And the picture in the hall?’

  ‘Don’t! And the bathroom lock’s broken.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘There’s Durex all over the floor. And the Madagascan fertility symbol’s disappeared.’

  ‘I’m off.’ The boy from the Isle of Wight/Hammersmith poked his head round the corner. ‘Thanks for the party, Delilah. And, er, see you again, I hope… ‘He paused.

  ‘… Connie,’ I added for him.

  ‘Yeah. Connie.’

  I should have left then too. I wanted to. I wanted to go round and find William. But I didn’t. I don’t know why. Guilt? Fear? That old Pickles sense of responsibility? Instead I rolled up my sleeves and helped out. If I was going to betray Delilah the least I could do was clear up first. Two of the girls with ironed blonde hair were vacuuming upstairs. Delilah went up to tidy her parents’ room. I attacked the puke stain on the stair carpet, scrubbed out the sink and opened all the windows to get rid of the smell. Then I heaved all the bin bags over my shoulder and took them down to the house at the end of the street where you never see anyone go in or out, and which has the bins out all week. I thought I might bump into William but I didn’t.

  When I got back, the house looked much more presentable. It stank of Mr Muscle and it still looked ruffled, but at least Tanya and Marcus weren’t going to pack Delilah off to a young-offenders’ institution the moment they walked in the door.