by Sue Wallman
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” I said softly, looking round for Monro. I willed him to come closer, and he did. I opened my mouth the tiniest fraction, my lips separating, and I looked at him and I knew what my eyes were saying, and it seemed as if I’d stopped breathing as he lowered his lips very gently on mine as his answer.
I stood more upright, and leaned into him, circling his upper body with my hands, feeling the muscles of his back. His hands moved from my waist to my hips as our tongues met, and our deep kiss pulsed through my body
This. This was the feeling I hoped was possible. For a few seconds it was him and me and nothing else mattered or would ever matter until, like a radio being switched on, the shouts and laughter of people coming along the coastal path intruded, and I broke away.
“We’re not ready,” I said. I was fuelled by a rush of adrenaline as I put on the music and we lit the candles as fast as we could. We finished as the doorbell was rung repeatedly.
Everyone seemed to arrive together, a stream of people who excitedly admired the house and the view, and then fell upon the alcohol or opened up what they’d brought with them. Lo, Meribel and I hugged and shrieked together in the kitchen. This party was on!
Two rugby guys, Rob and Matty, said Bernard had asked them to be bouncers, but they’d need beer as payment.
“We’ll cover outside. Give us a shout if anything kicks off inside,” Rob said. “Anything at all.” He rotated a shoulder, and the two of them went off with a stack of beer.
As I opened some packets of crisps to shove on to paper plates, the loud pop of the Moët bottle startled me. I saw Bernard swigging from it.
“Awesome party so far,” he said. “And you’re going to love the firework display.”
“Yep, it’s going to be good,” I said. I pushed the empty packets in the bin, and slipped into the garden. The air smelled of candles, cigarette smoke, perfume and the sea. People stood in huddles, chattering and laughing. Lo and Meribel were waving sparklers with Tessa. I scanned for Monro but couldn’t see him.
Someone came up behind me and said, “Not bad for a Pankhurst party.”
I spun round, recognizing Hugo’s voice.
“You’re looking irresistible tonight,” he drawled.
“Bringing the wow factor is just one of many skills,” I said.
“Of course. Don’t be prickly.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “I won’t let you go until you promise to dance with me later. Promise?”
I wriggled my shoulder and he took the hint and dropped his hand, a look of startled disgust on his face.
“Sorry, Hugo, I’ve got to find someone,” I said and walked away.
I hadn’t seen Monro since the first guests arrived. The whole of the downstairs was packed now, and I weaved in and out of the crowd, smiling and nodding like a party pro, like my mother would have done. Eventually I saw Monro talking to Veronica next to the shelving unit. Their conversation looked intense. Veronica was still wearing the same jumpsuit she’d made her speech in, and I thought of her suitcase upstairs. She obviously couldn’t be bothered to get changed.
Clemmie walked unsteadily past them, knocking into Veronica, which made Veronica spill some of her drink down her top. Clemmie was drunk already.
“Hey,” said Veronica. “Careful.” She muttered something to Monro.
“Oh, piss off,” said Clemmie. “Stop giving me a hard time. I’ve had it with you and your family.”
Veronica looked as if she’d been slapped. “How can you say that? My parents have done nothing but help, and look where it’s got them.”
“You’d better stop looking down your nose at me,” spat Clemmie, stepping into Veronica’s personal space.
I watched, appalled. Clemmie was making a fool of herself, which ordinarily I wouldn’t mind, and I wished I knew what she was going on about, but she was ruining the ambience of my party.
“You’d better stop making things worse for yourself.” Veronica gave Clemmie a push and she stumbled backwards.
“Whoa,” said Monro. He caught Clemmie by the arm and stopped her falling. Clemmie shook him off, and Paige appeared, saying she’d been looking everywhere for her.
“Kipper’s outside,” Paige said. “I’ve told him you don’t want to see him.”
Clemmie slurred, “He’s mad at me.”
“Obsessed, you mean,” said Paige.
“Tell him to go away,” said Clemmie. She sounded tearful all of a sudden. “Please. Don’t let him come in through the garden.”
“Rob and Matty will chuck him out if he does,” said Paige.
I couldn’t imagine Kipper calling the police to tell them about the party, but if he was provoked he might. I went into the hall to see how Rob and Matty were handling the situation.
They were blocking his way in. As soon as Kipper saw me, he yelled, “Yo, Gorgeous! I need to speak with Clemmie. I know she’s in there. Send her out here if you don’t want me coming in.”
“She doesn’t want to see you,” I said, furious with Clemmie. It seemed as if it was completely her fault he was here.
“Doesn’t she?” Kipper acted surprised. “She was going to help me out.”
Kipper shook free of Rob’s arm on his, and said, “Tell her I’ll catch up with her very soon.”
He left, and Rob stuck his thick neck out, pleased with himself. “I think I just earned myself another drink there.”
Going back into the party, everything was as it should be. People were having fun. I walked through the living room and kitchen, and stood against the metal doorframe looking into the garden, at everyone so animated, at the blurry golden glow of the lights, and the silent sticks of fireworks in the corner. Monro and Veronica had moved outside. They were sitting on the same stone step, their heads close together, talking. I should be next to him on that step, not her.
“You all right?” Lo was by my side. “You want a drink?”
I hadn’t thought to have one. I’d been too busy. Lo reached for a clear plastic cup of Prosecco on the side which had already been poured. “Here.”
I sipped, savouring the sharp, tight-bubbled sensation. I rarely drank Prosecco, and the first sip was always more bitter than I expected.
Lo’s drink had a slice of lemon floating in it. I didn’t remember anyone slicing lemons. The party felt as if it had its own momentum now, separate from my involvement. In the living room behind us, some people were dancing.
Bernard stepped from the garden into the kitchen. I elongated myself into the doorframe so he didn’t touch me on his way past.
“I really thought Sasha might turn up here tonight,” said Lo when Bernard had gone. “Stupid me. She was never going to come, was she?” She gazed at me through watery eyes.
I filled my lungs with traitorous breath and said, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s OK,” said Lo. “I need to move on. It’s just … I feel as if I let her down.”
“Please don’t say that,” I said, my words tumbling out in a gush of self-loathing. I was such a coward. I had to tell Lo about Sasha. But this wasn’t the right moment; I’d tell her after the party, when I could explain it properly.
“This place,” said Meribel, swooping past with a twelve-pack of crisps. “No one’s going to top it, Kate.”
I saw a movement on the path, and stepped into the garden with Lo to see. It was Kipper, smoking. He was half looking out to sea, half keeping an eye on what was happening in the garden.
“Is that Kipper again?” said Meribel. “He needs to stop hanging around a teenage party like a sleazeball.” She walked a bit further to the very end of the garden and before I could stop her shouted, “Get lost, Kipper!” and rounded it off with a lot of swearing.
Everyone around us looked up as Kipper held up his hands and said, “Hey, I’m relaxing with a cigarette and minding my own business, if that’s OK with you?”
“In the dark? While perving on us?” She looked around for support. “Anyone want to get Rob and Matty?”
Kipper ground his cigarette butt into the ground and said, “I’m going.”
Meribel gave me a triumphant look, and a couple of seconds later there was the sound of someone puking into the bushes. It was Clemmie.
“That’s going to be gross,” said Lo. “It’s gone in between those white pebbles.”
“Hope it rains before the next renters come,” I murmured.
We watched Paige ask a couple of people to move off a bench because Clemmie wanted to lie down, and when I looked away I saw Veronica coming towards me, and Monro was following her. Finally, they’d decided to be sociable.
“Kate,” said Veronica. I couldn’t work out the tone in her voice. She seemed nervous. “I’m feeling tired. I want to go back. Monro will walk me to Davison.”
I had the bitter taste in my mouth again, but without the alcohol to accompany it.
“Please stay,” I said. If Veronica left early, people would think it was because she thought the party was bad. “Stay for a dance. I’ll change the music to something better. More dancey. You’ll forget you’re tired. Give me a moment.”
I chose the first thing I came to with an insistent beat. A few people migrated in from the garden. “Come on,” I called. If Monro danced, it would all be OK.
Hugo was in the living room, swaying and drunk. I heard him say, “Dance with me, Kate. You look bloody gorgeous.”
I didn’t want to look at him. I only wanted to look at Monro, who was walking towards my outstretched arms. For a second I thought it would be brilliant. We’d dance so our bodies touched, and it would be the beginning of him and me together.
But he did a sidestep while still holding my hands, like a peculiar country-dancing move, and said, “Thanks, Kate. It was a very cool night,” and let go.
“Come back after you’ve walked Veronica home,” I said. “There’s going to be fireworks soon.” I looked at the huge clock above the fireplace. “At midnight. Not long.”
Outside I could hear a group joining in with the lyrics, not quite in time.
“I’d like to, but…” He was awkward. He didn’t know how to tell me he wasn’t going to come back, but I knew from his body language, the sunken shoulders and empty stretched-out hands which hung too loosely by his side. “Vee’s waiting for me,” he said, and he leaned down and kissed me on my cheek, as if I was a relative. “Bye, Kate.”
CHAPTER 19
Everything became flat after that. All I wanted was Monro to be there. I admitted it to myself: I’d never felt like this about anyone else. I watched Lo teach Meribel a dance, and I didn’t have the energy to join in. I picked up another abandoned glass of pale alcohol and necked it back, and dodged Hugo who kept going on about only wanting one dance. I tried not to think about Monro and Veronica’s over-dependent friendship, which had frozen me out tonight. I set about picking up empty glasses and abandoned rubbish. I wanted to be occupied. I took more toilet rolls upstairs to the en-suite bathrooms, and I remembered Veronica’s suitcase. I kicked off my shoes and knelt to look under the bed; it was gone.
I stood up and saw Bernard. At least it wasn’t Hugo. “Checking Veronica remembered her suitcase,” I said because I had to explain the kneeling.
“The hostess with the mostest,” he said.
“Yes, that’s me,” I said, smiling with a light-heartedness I didn’t feel. “The party seems to be going well.”
“Very well,” Bernard said. “I’ve been running around like a mad thing, keeping an eye on things.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll send everyone through to the garden for the fireworks in a minute.”
He caught my arm. “I thought you might want to thank me properly.”
I lurched, in my brain and in my body: a synchronized warning.
“A little kiss?” His hand moved to my backside.
I shook his hand off.
He pushed his leg back so the door shut. Not violently. There was no slam. “Don’t look so worried.”
His words said one thing, but my body was telling me something different. There was too much breath in my throat. Sweat pooled in my armpits.
It was too late to leave the room.
“It’s not my fault you’re so goddam hot…” said Bernard. He made a grunting noise.
I walked backwards. Soon I’d hit the edge of the bed and my legs would crumple, and I couldn’t let that happen. “The fireworks,” I said.
“Don’t worry about those. I’ve asked someone else to light them. I’ve set everything up.”
“Let’s go and watch them,” I said. Bernard was supposed to be my friend. “Please. We have to see the fireworks.”
“We might be able to see them from here,” said Bernard. He glanced at the window, and then made a sudden grab at my shoulders and his hard mouth pressed on top of mine and his knee pushed between my thighs. I fought to stay upright. There was pain as my lips were rammed against my teeth and his fingers dug into my shoulders, but that was secondary to the scorching fear in my stomach.
I jumped at a whine and whoosh outside. They were followed by the bang of the firework exploding, and the fizzing of sparks as they rained down. Through the window the pink, green and gold blazing chemicals looked like crazed confetti. Bernard moved his hands to my chest.
His mouth was still on mine. Fireworks screamed instead of me.
“Kate?” Meribel’s voice was far away. She was shouting something about how I was missing the fireworks.
The door flew open. “Kate?”
Bernard was momentarily distracted, and I moved my face away, and locked eyes with Meribel. Within an instant she was there, pulling me away from Bernard.
“What are you doing?” said Bernard. He wiped his mouth with back of his hand. “Talk about ruining a moment.”
Meribel swore at him. I stayed close to her and kept walking out of the room. She slammed the door behind us. “You OK?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
Meribel hugged me tight and I was too numb to cry, unable to articulate my gratitude. She led me downstairs into the living room. It was empty because of the fireworks, which were still hissing and whining.
We sat on a sofa together, and she said, “A photographer did the same to me in the summer. Thank God his assistant came in and he stopped. Until then I had thought he was one of the nice ones.”
I heard the rest of her words, about how she told her agent and her agent said she’d make sure Meribel never worked with the photographer again, but if she told her parents, they’d make her stop modelling. The other half of my brain was thinking over what just happened. Had I really been in danger, or had I imagined it?
“You’ll be all right, Kate,” said Meribel, and I realized I was crying. “Do you want me to take you back to Pankhurst?”
I shook my head. I wanted to be where there were lots of people.
Lo appeared on the other side of me, demanding to know where I’d been and why I was crying, and as soon as Meribel said “Get rid of Bernard”, Lo disappeared and there was a shouting match in the hall, between her and Bernard, Bernard saying that I was a slag and had she seen me trying to grind with the Mad Dog, and how she of all people had the nerve to have a go at him, he didn’t know, and she said, what the hell did that mean. I’d never heard Lo shout like that, in full-on, lose-it fashion.
Some people shot into the living room to see what was going on. Everyone loved a drama. The front door slammed, and Lo came back, flushed, telling us he’d gone.
When I thanked her she said there was nothing to thank her for, and that she was so angry she wanted to kick something. She paced up and down the room then sat with us on the sofa, her head on my shoulder, and said the party was great apart from Bernard, and Sasha not turning up. I ruffled her messy bun, making it even messier, and said it wasn’t a party I’d forget in a hurry either.
Outside, people hooked up with each other, and upstairs too for all I knew. Someone reported that Paige and Rob, the bouncer, were horizontal on the
garden bench.
Time drifted. It turned into that phase of the party where people either got hyper or chilled, and after a bit, the hyper people started going off to paddle in the sea in dribs and drabs.
By then the music was on low – we didn’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves – and I remembered closing my eyes, warm and safe between Meribel and Lo. At first I thought I’d slipped into a nightmare when I heard the shouts and screams.
I was aware of warmth leaving me and I opened my eyes to see Meribel and Lo run into the garden. My shoes were upstairs but I didn’t want to go back into the bedroom to get them, and anyway they were heels, so I went barefooted over sticky floors into the garden.
“Something’s happened,” said Meribel. She climbed over the low fence and on to the coastal path, where Lo was already running towards the steps which led down to the beach. I looked back at the house. I didn’t know who was still in it, if I should abandon it.
Another scream pierced something inside us, and we ran, the three of us to the steps. A boy in our year was running up them. His chest was heaving and he gasped as he was near the top. “We need help. It’s Clemmie. She’s fallen.”
CHAPTER 20
Elsie Gran arrived around eleven-thirty the next morning. I hugged her in the hallway and she took my face in her hands and said, “Are you OK, Katelyn?” and I nodded, because people were watching, but inside I was howling, “NO!”
Clemmie was dead.
We sat with Miss Sneller, the head, and Calding in the junior common room – closed to students for the morning – and Miss Sneller told Elsie Gran how appallingly irresponsible I’d been. “This is a deeply serious matter, Kate,” said Miss Sneller. “You will be suspended for one week. As more information comes to light, we will review disciplinary actions. Is there anything you would like to add, Miss Calding?”
Calding shook her head, and said, “We’ll talk in a week, Kate.”