A Kiss in the Dark

by Cat Clarke

  I found it right at the bottom of the drawer. It was one of those cheesy pictures you get at tourist attractions. I had one in my room somewhere from a family trip to York Dungeons years ago. In that one, a twelve-year-old Jamie is swinging a fake axe at ten-year-old me’s head with a look of pure glee on his face. This photo was a lot more recent. It was in some dark underground place and Jamie had his arms around a girl. I recognized her but I couldn’t remember her name. She looked very happy to be in my brother’s arms.

  The photo had been taken in Mary King’s Close. I didn’t know much about it other than the fact that it was a bunch of old streets and houses running under the Royal Mile. I vaguely remembered something about the plague, but history has never been my strong suit. It was supposed to be haunted, which was what made me think it would be the perfect place to take Kate. I didn’t know for sure that she hadn’t been there before, but it was worth a shot. She’d told me that she loved scary films even though she couldn’t help screaming whenever the killer jumped out from behind a bush or whatever. I got on the internet and booked the tickets (expensive, but worth it, hopefully), then texted Kate to tell her where to meet on Friday. She was desperate to know where we were going, but I was keeping quiet – I wanted to surprise her.

  I was always in a good mood on Fridays because we got to go home at lunchtime. I was the first one out of the school gates and I ran all the way home. I’d arranged to meet Kate at two so we could spend as much time together as possible before she had to go to another bloody piano lesson.

  I bandaged myself up and put on a black and red checked shirt, black jeans and my Converse. Looked in the mirror and decided something was missing, then added a grey beanie. I actually sort of liked the reflection looking back at me, although I’d never admit it to anyone in a million years. I went into the bathroom and started brushing my teeth. I’ve always been a bit obsessive about brushing my teeth – when I was little I used to do it after every meal and snack until Mum told me it would wear down my gums and my teeth would fall out.

  Toothbrush in mouth, I wandered down the hall to Jamie’s room and opened up his wardrobe. There was a jacket of his I’d always liked and I was pretty sure he’d left it behind. I started rifling through the clothes on the rail, picking out a couple of old shirts that could work for me. Then a sleepy voice behind me said, ‘And what the heck do you think you’re doing, missy?’ I jumped a mile and spluttered on the toothpaste, spraying white gunk on to the shirts I was holding.

  Jamie was sitting up in his bed, hair all over the place, yawning wide like a walrus. I scarpered back to the bathroom to rinse the foam out of my mouth and try to clean up the shirts.

  ‘Nice one, sis.’ Jamie stuck his head round the bathroom door. He was wearing an old faded T-shirt that was way too small for him and a pair of board shorts. He had a creased red mark on his face from the pillow.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Jamie! Are you trying to kill me?’

  He smirked as he elbowed me out of the way to get to the mirror. Jamie’s always been a big fan of mirrors. ‘What kind of a welcome home is that?’

  ‘Sorry. Um … welcome home.’ I remembered I had the bandages on. What would Jamie say if he realized my boobs had magically disappeared? The shirt was fairly baggy, at least. And Jamie wasn’t exactly renowned for his powers of observation. It had taken him two weeks to notice that Dad had shaved off the moustache he’d had for seven years. I just had to make sure I kept Jamie talking to distract him – and get out of there as quickly as possible. ‘Do Mum and Dad know you’re here?’

  ‘Nah, I thought I’d surprise them. It was a bit of a last minute thing – a mate was driving down this morning, so I thought I might as well get a free ride. Get some decent food, get some washing done, spend some time with my favourite sister.’

  ‘Only sister.’

  He swiped the beanie off my head and ruffled my hair. ‘And that’s what makes you so special … So, are you going to explain what you were doing rummaging through my wardrobe? Missing me so much that you wanted to find a jumper to keep under your pillow?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s exactly what I was doing.’ I grabbed my beanie off him and put it back in place, making sure my fringe was just right. ‘Actually, I was looking for that jacket of yours? The black one?’

  ‘Jeez, I’ve only been gone a few weeks and already you’re scavenging my stuff! You’re out of luck with the jacket though. I gave it to Camilla – a little something to remember me by.’ He grinned. ‘Now … are you going to make me a cup of tea or what?’

  ‘You’ll have to get your own tea, you lazy waster. And while you’re at it, you could do your own washing too. This is the 21st century, remember?’

  Jamie slung his arm around me and we walked through to the kitchen. ‘Ah, sis, you have so much to learn. Mum likes doing my washing. It makes her feel like she’s the mum off the gravy advert or something. Like she’s being a proper mother. So it’s really very kind of me to allow her to do it for me … you see?’

  I burst out laughing. ‘You are so full of shit!’ He didn’t really believe that stuff; he just liked winding me up.

  He smiled like he’d achieved something. ‘Pleeeeaase make me a cup of tea, Alex? You have no idea how much I’ve missed your tea-making skills! No one at uni makes a decent cuppa.’

  ‘I thought uni was supposed to be all beer and cocktails and shots that can put you in a coma?’ I checked my watch – just enough time to stick the kettle on for Jamie then I’d have to motor.

  Jamie hopped up on to the kitchen island. It was his spot. He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and started munching away. ‘Yeah, well, that’s true … but you’ve got to have tea and toast after that – to soak up all that booze. Tea prevents comas, don’t you know?’

  I rolled my eyes as I put just the right amount of milk in his favourite mug and chucked in a tea bag. ‘Right, I’m sure you can manage pouring the water … just remember to wait till the kettle’s boiled, yes? I’ve got to get going.’

  ‘But I was hoping for a bit of quality brother-sister time before the parentals get back! You’re not going to leave me here all alone, are you?’ He pouted and you could see how he used to get away with murder when we were little.

  ‘Don’t blame me! You should have texted to say you were coming! I’ve got plans … and if I don’t get a move on I’m going to be late.’

  ‘Can’t you wait ten minutes and let me tag along? I’ve got no one to hang out with – everyone’s away! God, look what I’ve been reduced to … begging my baby sister to let me spend time with her. How the mighty have fallen!’ His words were garbled as he talked around a mouthful of apple.

  ‘No can do, brother dear. Let’s do something tomorrow though, yeah? A walk up Arthur’s Seat or something?’

  Jamie sighed. ‘Don’t want me cramping your style, is that it?’ He looked at me slyly. ‘Or … do you have a hot date?’ My face must have reddened immediately because he leaped off the counter and wagged his finger at me. ‘That’s it, isn’t it! I knew it! I can read you like a book, sister dear, so there’s no point in lying to me. Come on, spill. I want details.’

  There was no point in denying it. Despite being spectacularly unobservant, Jamie really does know people. He can almost always tell what I’m thinking, and one of my favourite things about him is that he’s always been able to cheer me up when I’m down. He just needs to crack a joke or do his Blue Steel Zoolander face.

  ‘I’m saying nothing. But you’d better not tell Mum and Dad, OK?’

  He mimed locking his lips and throwing the key over his shoulder. ‘My lips are sealed. This secret will go with me to my grave. Or at least back to Aberdeen.’ He smiled. ‘I’m happy for you, sis. Really. And if you ever do want to talk about it, you know where I am.’

  ‘Hundreds of miles away?’

  ‘Smart arse. You know what I mean.’

  The kettle had boiled so I poured the water myself. ‘Thanks, J.’

  Jamie took the t
easpoon from my hand and gave me a gentle shove. ‘Now off you go. But make sure you’re not early. You never want to be the first one there otherwise you look desperate. Have fun, OK? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

  There wasn’t much Jamie wouldn’t do. But I’m pretty sure pretending to be a member of the opposite sex fell into that category.

  On the way into town I mulled over the fact that Jamie hadn’t pushed to know more. He hadn’t asked who the ‘lucky’ boy was. I would have bet money on him asking that. It made me wonder if there was a reason – other than him respecting my privacy. Maybe Jamie didn’t want to back me into a corner. Maybe he would have wanted to ask about the lucky girl.

  I briefly wondered if I could talk to him about Kate before dismissing the idea immediately. Even if he was OK with the idea of me dating a girl, there was no way he would understand what I was doing. He’d insist I come clean, tell the truth. He might even tell Mum and Dad. No. Jamie had to stay firmly in the dark along with everyone else.

  chapter eleven

  Kate was there before me again, but I didn’t think it made her look desperate at all. She was staring down at the ground, at the spot we’d arranged to meet. She looked up when I was a couple of paces away and smiled. ‘The Heart of Midlothian?’

  A heart shape embedded in the cobblestones. It was supposed to be the exact centre of the county. And it was a heart; I thought it would be romantic. I’d forgotten that it was supposed to be good luck to spit on it. So essentially I’d arranged to meet Kate at a place with a whole lot of phlegm. I shrugged and looked sheepish.

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed her. I felt like I was able to breathe again now that she was next to me. I felt more balanced somehow.

  She had no idea where we were going. I took her hand and led her across the street to the entrance to Mary King’s Close. Kate clapped her hands. ‘I’ve always wanted to go here! How did you know?!’

  ‘Just a hunch, I guess.’ It was hard not to look smug.

  We went into the gift shop and joined the queue for our tour. A couple in their twenties were in the queue in front of us; they didn’t talk to each other at all. She gazed at the TV screen in the corner, twiddling her hair between her fingers, while he stared at his phone as if it held the key to the universe. I couldn’t stop looking at them, wondering if they’d just had an argument or if they were always like that.

  I felt Kate lean in close to me. Lips brushing against my cheek. ‘Thank you for this,’ she whispered.

  ‘No worries.’

  ‘It feels like you know me.’

  She couldn’t have said anything more perfect.

  *

  There were ten of us booked on the tour, including the most annoying kid in the world. A weaselly little boy who wouldn’t shut up when the tour guide was talking and kept on saying how boring it was and asking where the ghosts were. I was worried he was ruining it for Kate, but she just smiled at the kid indulgently and that made me feel bad for wishing he’d trip and smash his head open on a flagstone.

  The tour guide was dressed up in character as some girl from the seventeenth century, but the American accent and the braces on her teeth kind of ruined the effect. Still, she knew her stuff. It was hard to concentrate on what she was saying when Kate slipped her hand into mine, our fingers locking together as if they’d always meant to be that way.

  I kept on turning to look at Kate, to check that she really was enjoying herself. Every time I looked she was either listening carefully to the tour guide or smiling back at me. There weren’t any ghosts jumping out at us, which may have disappointed the annoying kid but not me. I don’t like surprises. It was still pretty creepy down there though. I didn’t like the waxwork models of plague victims; I kept on expecting them to move when I wasn’t looking.

  One room was supposed to be haunted by a little girl whose family left her behind when she got the plague. Apparently some Japanese psychic had talked to her spirit or whatever. Total bullshit but there was something unsettling about the huge pile of toys people had brought down there and left for the ghost girl. Kate squeezed my hand and whispered, ‘It’s so sad.’ I was going to take the piss but thought better of it.

  Right at the end of the tour we finally reached Mary King’s Close itself. We posed for the obligatory cheesy picture (Kate insisted). We lingered behind the rest of the group as they made their way up to the top of the close towards the exit.

  ‘Just imagine what it must have been like, living down here!’ said Kate, and I just knew that she was actually imagining it, picturing what it would have been like centuries ago.

  ‘Just imagine the smell.’

  Kate smiled and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh you.’

  I shrugged. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No need to apologize … it’s not your fault you have no imagination.’

  I pulled a little frowny face that she must have found endearing because she said, ‘Come here, you,’ and that’s when it happened.

  She kissed me.

  Her lips were warm and soft on mine. It was better than I could have ever imagined. All memories of what had happened with Heather were blown away. This was how it was supposed to be. This was how you were supposed to feel when you were kissing someone you wanted to be kissing.

  Kate pulled away first and looked at me shyly. I must have had the goofiest smile on my face because she took one look at me and laughed. ‘Was that … um … OK?’

  I took a breath to try to calm my hammering heart. ‘That was definitely very OK.’

  ‘Maybe we should do it again sometime soon then.’

  ‘I think that would be acceptable.’

  We held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

  *

  After the tour we wandered along George IV Bridge towards the Elephant House. We walked in silence, occasionally meeting each other’s eyes and grinning. The kind of sight that would have made me want to puke a couple of months before.

  Kate bought us both hot chocolates and we shared a slice of carrot cake. We sat snuggled up on the sofa by the fire and I tried to pretend we weren’t surrounded by tourists and rabid Harry Potter fans. I put my arm around Kate and she rested her head on my shoulder.

  ‘This is perfect, isn’t it?’ Her breath tickled my neck.

  I mumbled my agreement; the hot chocolate was making me sleepy.

  ‘It makes me nervous, you know. It’s almost as if it’s too perfect and I’m just waiting for something bad to happen.’

  I winced, but Kate didn’t see. ‘That’s not very optimistic, is it? I thought you were all about the rainbows and pandas and happy things?’

  ‘I’m serious!’ A gentle elbow to my chest, grazing the bandages under my shirt.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m listening … honestly.’ In actual fact I wanted to divert this conversation away from where it was heading. But Kate clearly wanted to say something. Most girls are like that – always wanting to talk about their feelings. I’ve always preferred to keep my feelings to myself, well away from public view. It’s safer that way.

  Kate sighed. ‘I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I like how things are going with us. I mean, I know it’s early days. Really early days. But this feels like something … real.’

  I closed my eyes. Real. It did feel like something real, and it was something real.

  I nearly told her right then. And I think maybe I would have if we hadn’t been in the middle of a jam-packed coffee house. It seemed like she was waiting for me to say something – almost like she knew and was giving me a chance to tell her the truth. But she didn’t know; she was waiting for me to say something else – something reassuring.

  ‘It is real.’

  ‘Promise?’ Her voice was small and vulnerable.

  ‘Promise.’ I didn’t feel good saying that word, but it was what Kate needed to hear.

  She sat up and sort of shook herself like a dog in the rain. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all inten
se. I suppose I can be a little … um … thinky sometimes. That’s OK, isn’t it?’

  ‘A little thinky is just fine with me.’

  ‘So you don’t think I’m a total weirdo?’

  I paused and furrowed my brow. ‘Not a total weirdo, no.’

  She gave me a fake withering look. ‘Thanks for that.’

  I knew I needed to say something serious then. Something meaningful. It was all very well teasing her and trying to act too cool for school, but Kate deserved more. I took her hand in mine. Her fingers were longer than mine. I traced my finger around the silver band on her ring finger. ‘I like you, Kate.’ That wasn’t very meaningful so I tried again. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you before. I’m … I’m really glad you’re in my life.’ That wasn’t particularly great either but it was the best she was going to get.

  Kate’s eyes widened and her face lit up and I knew that by some miracle I’d said the right thing. That was definitely one way that being a boy was easier than being a girl. You don’t have to make big poetic declarations about your feelings. Pretty much anything you do say is a bonus, since the most people expect you to do is grunt and turn your attention back to Call of Duty or Halo or whatever. When expectations are so low, anything more than that is a bonus.

  Kate kissed me on the lips. ‘I like you too, Alex.’

  The happiness was almost too much to bear.

  chapter twelve

  I didn’t see Kate for a whole week after that. It was half term and she went away on holiday with her mum. We weren’t even able to text that much – it was too expensive. I usually love half term – a temporary reprieve from school – but I felt lost without Kate to talk to. Not that we ever actually talked when we were apart. I hate talking on the phone – it’s a bit of a phobia of mine. For one thing, I hate my voice. It doesn’t sound anything like I’d expect me to sound like. Plus I always get tongue-tied, no matter who I’m talking to. There’s something about a phone call that seems like a trap to me – as if whoever’s on the end of the phone is waiting to catch me out in some way. I think maybe Kate felt the same way, because she never tried to call me. Or maybe it was something to do with the fact that our relationship started that way, so it seemed like the best way for it to continue.