The theatre was just that, a theatre. Of the oldest-fashioned sort. The seats were red leather-effect vinyl, and stretched away down and up again to a wide stage and red crushed-velvet curtains that soared to an incredibly high ornate ceiling. Wall lights shaded in dusty velvet lined the red and gold papered walls, and dimmed promptly at the start of the film. They were at full wattage now, and Mona startled Arns and I with a little shout: ‘JACK!’
She giggled at the fright we’d got. ‘My brother,’ she explained. ‘Over there.’
‘Your cousin Alex is always going on about Jack,’ said Arnold quickly, shooting me a look. ‘She’s one of Tallulah’s best friends.’
‘Freaky! We’re all connected, and we didn’t even know each other earlier today!’ said Mona. ‘I’ll have to waylay Jack after the movie and introduce you. JACK!’
The faraway figure turned and waved before settling into a seat in the midst of a group of what looked like university students – all of them girls. I got a glimpse of dark floppy hair falling over an eye, a tall rangy frame, a flash of white teeth. Even from here I could see that Jack was tall, dark and fffff! handsome. No wonder Alex wanted him for her glam-mag empire; he’d add serious gloss to any enterprise.
‘Right,’ I said. ‘I’m going to bag a seat over there.’ I pointed to the distance. ‘Thanks for the chocolates,’ I said, and headed down the aisle.
‘Sure you don’t want to sit with us?’ called Mona.
I shook my head and waved a farewell, choosing a row halfway between Mona and her brother, an acre of space in either direction. I ripped open my bag of Maltesers with relish and got crunching. Sooo good. All was right with the world.
*
The movie was sweet, though Keira’s long black hair and porcelain complexion had me hating myself. Perhaps if I grew mine . . . I gave myself a mental headshake. Like, hello? I had the patience of a flea. All that upkeep would have me on Prozac in no time. And me with dark hair? Nope. As the credits rolled up I sighed and stretched. A teary episode had made my eyes bloodshot and I could feel my nose had geared up to twice its normal size, with nostrils swelling closed so I couldn’t breathe.
‘Tallulah? You okay?’ Mona had appeared at the end of my row looking concerned.
‘Hab I got bascara od by face?’ I mumbled, shuffling, embarrassed, to my feet. ‘So glad I didn’t see this with Bed.’
Mona handed me an aloe-vera facial wipe without comment, and began wittering. ‘It was quite sad when Keira . . .’
Facial wipes. Geez. She was organised. I swiped the panda-look away from around my eyes, checked I had everything on me and started moving towards the aisle.
‘Jack!’ Arns and I both jumped out of our skins and Mona laughed. Again. ‘You guys are quite wound up,’ she noted, as the group of students neared.
I saw that most of them were very Keira-looking. Loads of hair. Miles of perfect skin. Gorgeous bodies, gorgeous clothes. I gritted my teeth. ‘I’b goi’g to head hobe,’ I said, with a blocked nose. ‘Thanks for the boovie.’
‘Oh, er, I’ll, um, if it’s okay with you, Mona . . .’ started Arns.
‘Absolutely bot,’ I said firmly. ‘I’b fibe to walk hobe ob by own.’
‘Sure, but your mum is scary, Lula.’ He paused as a chivalrous thought occurred to him. ‘And I’d never take the chance anyway. You know, of something happening to you.’
The student group had arrived. Jack was taller, darker and handsomer than I’d thought. He reminded me a little of the guy Carrie had taken to that year-eight dance with me and Stan Pavorovich. While I’d wound up at the hospital with Stan, Carrie had ended up crying in the girls’ bathroom because her partner had danced with every girl except her. What spiked that memory? The self-confident air he had? The way the girls’ voices went up a notch around him? Ugh.
‘See you girls tomorrow,’ said Jack, turning to his posse.
One of them hung back. ‘You’re not walking me home, babes?’ she asked.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you going back with Sarah and Ems? I just want a word with my sister.’
‘I can wait,’ the girl said.
‘I don’t want to hold you up, Jazz. You go on. I’ll see you tomorrow?’
We watched the dialogue, heads bouncing back and forth like tennis spectators.
The muscles in Jazz’s jaw clenched for just an instant, then, ‘Sure,’ she muttered, and headed up the aisle after her friends.
‘Another stalker, Jack?’ whispered Mona, trying not to laugh.
Huh, I thought. Probably he’s just tired of her. Ready for the next one. Sarah, Ems, whoever.
Jack bit his lip. ‘She’s sweet,’ he said, then, ‘You okay, sis? Less stressed?’
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘This is Arnold Trenchard. He’s a science whizz and has explained the whole thing to me.’
‘I owe you big,’ said Jack, shaking Arnold’s hand. ‘I thought she was going to go nutso.’ He dipped his head in Mona’s direction and then looked at me. He didn’t say anything.
Yep, I thought bitterly. Lookee here – I’m an invisible girl, a haze in the air, not beautiful enough for your radar. I blew my nose loudly into an old tissue I’d found in my coat pocket.
Preerrrp.
‘Tatty,’ said Mona, ‘this is my brother Jack. He goes to uni here.’
I held out my hand for a handshake. Jack looked startled.
‘Oh, Jack’ – Mona punched him on the arm – ‘enlightened girls shake hands too, you know.’
‘Sorry,’ said Jack. ‘That’s not why – I mean, I didn’t – uh . . .’ He shook my hand. Firm, decisive. ‘Tatty.’
Then he looked me up and down, and laughed.
How frikking rude was this guy! I looked at him in shock. Usually, I didn’t give my nickname a second thought, but . . . Was he actually implying that I was tatty? And not in a dishevelled, incredibly cool kind of way?
Whoa.
I blinked, took a calming breath and tuned in to what he was saying: ‘What are you guys doing now?’
‘We were just debating,’ replied Mona.
‘I’b headi’g hobe,’ I said quickly, just wanting to get away. ‘Thanks for the boovie, Arns, and the sustenance, Boda. Dice to beet you, Jack.’ That last bit took a lot of willpower, let me tell you. Clearly I’d been schooled in manners somewhere along the line. Unlike the person I’d just met.
‘Not so fast, Lula,’ said Arns. ‘We need to walk you home.’
‘Boda will be late back to school then,’ I said. I blew my nose again. They all stepped back, but I grinned happily. I could breathe at last. ‘I’m fine on my own. Really. I’ll have nine-nine-nine on redial and I’ll text you when I’m back safely.’
‘No,’ said Arnold. He looked reluctantly at Mona. ‘Maybe your brother could walk y–’
‘Perfect!’ said Mona. ‘Jack, you wouldn’t mind walking Tatty, would you?’
My jaw dropped.
Jack looked amused. ‘No problem.’
Mona grinned. I felt my face warm and cast about in my mind for anything, anything to not let this happen. No way was I spending a moment with a guy who thought I looked like a tramp. I wanted to pretend I’d never met him, and think about Ben instead.
Omigoodness! Ben Latter. His blond hair, his perfect face, the way his eyes had looked past mine, into my thoughts. The energy rolling off him that made me kind of crinkle inside. The lurch of my stomach when I saw him, when he spoke.
‘I really,’ I said firmly, ‘really would rather walk home on my own.’
Then I caught the look on Arnold’s face. The boy was desperate for time alone in the dark with Mona. He held her hand in a vice grip. I could see white knuckles and everything. He coughed.
‘I’m not that bad,’ said Jack. ‘My cousin Alex can vouch for my character.’ A slow, lazy smile stretched over his face and my stomach lurched. He’s making the bile rise, I decided.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Can I come out now?’
Jack was s
tanding in the space between rows so I couldn’t get into the aisle. He stood aside and swept low into a bow as I walked towards him.
Mona and Arns were ecstatic, I noted bitterly. They hugged each other close and hurried to the exit, desperate for a bit of full moon and the cover of darkness. I forced a smile while we said our goodbyes.
Jack and I watched them swing down the road together, Arnold talking quickly, waving his free hand in the air, explaining something.
The air shifted and felt colder. I pulled the softness of the cardigan round me and regretted the lacy number beneath.
‘Let’s hit the road, Jack,’ I said wryly, but he didn’t laugh.
He slung an arm over my shoulders and countered with, ‘Sure, T-Bird.’
The skin prickled on my neck against the warmth of his arm. I stepped away and threw him my best bad-ass look. ‘Only my dad calls me that.’
‘Why does no one call you Tallulah?’ he asked. ‘Alex never said why you’re Tatty.’
I crossed my arms and looked him in the eye. ‘You seem to have your own ideas about why I’m called Tatty.’
‘What?’ He had the grace to look confused.
‘In the cinema,’ I said hotly. I swallowed. ‘You gave me the old sneery looking up and down in there.’ I nodded at the theatre behind him.
Jack stepped towards me. He suddenly looked younger. ‘Geez!’ he exclaimed. ‘Cut me some slack! It was just a shock meeting you, that’s all. After all this time hearing about you from Alex. I wasn’t being sneery. I was just surprised to see you there. Alex said . . .’
He paused and I felt my outrage sieve slowly out of me. Oh, cringe. Had I misread the look and the laugh?
I turned and began walking up the hill. Jack strode alongside. ‘Hey,’ he said, and bumped me gently with his arm. ‘I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression. Sometimes I – well, you know, um – I may seem rude, but it’s a shyness thing. Really. Or um maybe I’m just not good with girls.’
‘I’m not good with boys,’ I said before I could think, then bit my lip. How could I have said that out loud?
We checked for traffic on Beaufort Street and crossed over.
‘So, why are you called Tatty?’ asked Jack.
‘A long time ago,’ I said uncomfortably. ‘An unfortunate outfit in pre-school. You don’t want to know.’
Jack grinned. ‘I know more about you than you think,’ he drawled.
‘Don’t go there,’ I snapped. ‘I’m still cross with you.’
Jack wisely bit his tongue and I snuck a look over at him. You couldn’t get two boys more different than Jack de Souza and Ben Latter: Jack all dark angles and weird energy; Ben so lit-up and fluid and magnetic. I could see why Alex liked Jack, though. He really was amazingly gorgeous. If you liked that whole rugged and scary thing.
‘– like you,’ Jack was saying.
‘Sorry?’
‘Alex,’ repeated Jack. ‘She’s a lot like you.’
‘You’ve got the wrong girl,’ I replied. ‘I’m nothing like Alex.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘That’s what you said.’
What was wrong with me? I couldn’t stop sniping at this guy. I just want to be at home, thinking about Ben, I whined to myself.
We were walking fast, my arms swinging like a chimpanzee on a cross-country event, but Jack kept his hands in his back pockets, his long legs carrying him along next to me easily. And I could walk really quickly. I picked up the pace.
Jack laughed. ‘Would you rather run?’
‘I like to walk fast.’
‘I see why you weren’t bothered about heading home alone – you could outstride any attacker.’
I stopped abruptly. ‘Look, thanks for walking me home. The thing is that I’ve had a pretty crazy day’ – something made my voice catch; I coughed – ‘and was hoping for some space. I’m just desperate to be in bed right now.’ Oh, frik. Did I just say I wanted to be in bed? Did I say desperate? Really, there was no hope for me. At. All.
‘Um, in bed, you know, sleeping,’ I added hastily, my face on fire. ‘Let’s cross the road.’
I checked for cars and I swear I heard him laugh, but when I whirled to face him with narrowed eyes his face was perfectly composed.
‘Why?’ asked Jack.
‘Because we need to get to the other side,’ I muttered.
Jack grinned and we walked over the still, wide street, the moon casting shadows on our faces. ‘Why’d the sheep cross the road?’ he asked.
‘Surely,’ I said, ‘a university student can do better than crossing-the-road jokes? I’m losing faith in our academic system.’
‘A sheep is many steps above the common chicken,’ said Jack, his voice deepening with the seriousness of his tone. ‘Our system of learning has taught me this and much more. Do you know why snot is green?’
‘I beg you. Spare me. Please.’ I could see the chimneys of the Setting Sun now.
We crunched through the gravel on Mrs Sidment’s front pavement in silence and still neither of us had spoken as we rounded the corner up to Dr Thurwell’s, but when we hit Mr and Mrs Jones’s garden-gnome collection Jack came up with, ‘Yow!’
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said quickly, then, ‘That gnome with the mallet. Kind of takes you by surprise, you know. The life-size bulgy eyes.’
‘Does anyone else know about your fear of garden gnomes?’
‘Come on.’
‘Nothing to be ashamed of, you know. It’s a proper condition. With a name and everything.’
We were on the home straight now.
Jack cleared his throat. ‘So you know about phobias?’
‘All about phobias. My sister has arachnophobia. Ask me anything.’
‘Well, I’m not interested in phobias as such. More interested in, like, unreasonable fears. Maybe even worries about strange superstitions, curses, jinxes, you know the kind of thing.’
I thought uneasily about how much time Alex spent messaging Jack. What did she fill her conversations with? Hilarious anecdotes at my expense? She wouldn’t have told him I was an unkissed social oddity? FFFF! No . . . No, she wouldn’t. But, still, there was clearly other stuff out in the open. Oh, frik.
‘Alex says you’ve had a run of bad luck that’s got the boys of Hambledon High spooked and –’
‘Alex,’ I interrupted quickly, ‘has plenty of her own fears to deal with.’ Like how she was going to endure all the barbaric torture I was going to inflict.
‘Don’t take it personally,’ said Jack hurriedly. ‘She’s not, like, betraying your confidences or anything. This is all just from conversational chitchat.’
‘That chitchat,’ I said, ‘will have to stop.’
‘No can do.’
‘Yes can do.’
‘Nope. I need the fluff.’
‘Pardon?’ (Such excellent manners. Even at this stressful time.)
Jack smirked. ‘For my column.’
‘Dear God.’ I was horrified.
‘Mizz magazine.’ Another smirk.
‘You wouldn’t.’
‘I surely do.’
‘What did Alex say? Oh, wait. Don’t tell me. You never reveal an exclusive before it hits the shelves.’
‘Exactly.’
We were at my front gate. I thought about how Alex knew me better than my own mother. She knew my fears and phobias. She knew my bra size and my body fat percentage. She knew who I loved, who I hated. She knew A Whole Frikking Lot.
‘And you should know,’ Jack said quietly.
‘Pardon?’
‘About confidential sources. You should know, seeing as I’m your source.’
I still looked confused.
‘The information I gave Alex for you. About Mona needing help for the Science Fair. Info does not come cheap. You owe me, Tallulah.’
And with that he brushed my cheek with his lips and loped off down the road, leaving me speechless.
Chap
ter Thirteen
Thursday morning, hard at work
I was in my usual spot in the 600s the next morning considering, as usual, my navel. And The List. And the fact that there were just TWO DAYS LEFT TILL SATURDAY! Could I risk pinning all snogging hopes on Ben Latter? Would it be morally reprehensible to start working on a standby in case he didn’t call me again before my birthday? I stared at the names with a rising sense of panic. I couldn’t concentrate. Frik! It was too damn noisy in this library – noisy with the sound of Arns, whom I now hated with a terrible passion, laughing intimately into his mobile in the 700s. Why couldn’t he take his irritating self somewhere far away from me? Like the 000s of reference? Why hadn’t Ben called me yet? Didn’t he like me? Did he think that camisole too tarty? Not tarty enough?
Okay, hang on. I know how that just sounded. It sounds like I’m ranting and all grumpy with Arns and everything because Ben hasn’t called. No, no. I’m not that pathetic.
I was just grumpy because I was tired.
I was tired because of . . .
Let me explain.
*
Back to Wednesday night
So, Jack leaves me at the front gate and I stand there feeling all disorientated and confused and wanting to speak to Alex immediately. Jack disappeared down the road and I fumbled in my bag for my phone. I was thumbing my way through my contacts when I heard soft footsteps coming towards me.
My head jerked up from the bright light of the phone. I froze and my eyes squinted to search through the overhanging branches.
The sound of footsteps stopped.
I got the feeling someone over the road was watching me.
I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t. I wanted desperately to look down at the phone and hit CALL, but I was too afraid to look away from where I’d last heard those steps. Why had they stopped? Had they followed me home?
Come on! Just a neighbour having a wee, I told myself. Stop scaring yourself. Put the phone away. Get on the other side of the gate.
Inch by inch I backed into the gate, until it screeched open. I slammed it behind me and stumbled down the steps, fumbling for my house keys. Then I remembered I just had the single key for the annexe. Oh no. Have to go round the dark corner, down to the dark back of the house, into a dark separate dark accommodation all my own. Ffff! My fingers scrabbled for the key and I gripped it like it could inflict mortal damage. I flung myself round the side of the house and stopped again, feeling that I needed to wait and listen.
Kisses for Lula Page 10