by Maria Realf
A surge of adrenaline mixed with birthday boldness swept through her. ‘OK. Let’s do it!’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Not really,’ she smiled. ‘But let’s do it anyway.’
An hour later, she was sat in what looked like a dentist’s chair, trying hard not to hyperventilate. ‘First timer, eh?’ said the tattooist, a middle-aged woman by the name of Donna, who looked more like a librarian. ‘Don’t worry, hon – it’s not as painful as you think.’
‘Uh-huh,’ said Lizzie nervously, glancing over at Connor for support. He wasn’t paying any attention, admiring the designs plastered all over the walls of the small studio. ‘How long is this going to take?’
‘For that? In black? I’d say 15-30 minutes tops. You need to relax a bit, though, otherwise you’re gonna tense up. Try taking some deep breaths.’
Lizzie breathed in and out noisily, feeling anything but relaxed. Why the hell did I agree to this? ‘Maybe my friend can go first,’ she said, gesturing to Connor.
‘Nah, you’re better off going first,’ said Donna. ‘Get it out of the way. It’ll be fine. I’ve done this before, you know!’
Lizzie gave her a weak smile, but her legs were turning to jelly. ‘How’d you feel?’ asked a beaming Andi. She looked like she was finding the whole thing highly entertaining, like a sadistic version of those reality TV shows she was always watching.
‘Alright,’ Lizzie lied. ‘I think I’m ready.’
‘Bricking yourself, huh?’ said Connor, tearing himself away from the artwork and coming to stand beside her. ‘I get it. The first’s the worst. After that it’s easier.’
‘Oh, this is definitely going to be a one-off.’
‘That’s what they all say to start with,’ chipped in Donna. She pulled on a pair of gloves. ‘Arm, please.’
Lizzie grudgingly held out her left arm, which Donna cleaned with a special solution. It smelled like the antiseptic wipes her mum kept in the first-aid kit, and she tried not to imagine the expletives her mum would use if she could see her now. Then Donna placed the stencil in position and unveiled the imprint of the transfer Lizzie had chosen: two small interlocking hearts that made her think of Alex. I wonder what he’ll say when he sees it?
‘Last chance to back out,’ teased Donna.
But she wasn’t going to back out now. No way. Partly because she wanted to prove to herself that she could do it, and partly because she didn’t want Connor and Andi telling everyone that she’d been a total wuss. She looked over at Donna, who was whistling as she loaded the needle into the machine.
Damn, that looks big …
‘You’re going to use that?’ asked Andi incredulously, clearly thinking the same thing. Lizzie willed her to shut up before she chickened out.
‘Go for it,’ said Connor, patting her on the shoulder. ‘No regrets.’
Ask me in an hour and we’ll see.
‘You might feel a bit of a scratching sensation,’ warned Donna. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Ready,’ she replied defiantly.
Her voice was drowned out as the device was switched on. It whirred loudly, sounding like a cross between an electric razor and a power tool. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as Donna swooped in for the drill.
If my arm drops off before the party tonight, I’m totally blaming Connor.
‘Urrrrggggghhhhh.’ Lizzie didn’t know which seemed more fuzzy, her brain or her teeth. The left side of her face was practically welded to the pillow. What time is it? she tried to say, but her lips were so dry and stuck together that it came out more like ‘Worteyesit?’ Her head felt like it was stuffed with sawdust.
‘If you’re asking about the time, it’s just gone eleven,’ a disembodied male voice proclaimed. Lizzie forced her right eye open and was nearly blinded by the sunlight streaming in through a small gap in the curtains. She quickly closed it again. Her vision was admittedly a little hazy this morning, but she was pretty sure there was no one else in the room. ‘Dad?’ she called out, croakily.
The voice laughed. ‘No, you weirdo, it’s me.’
‘Alex?’ This conversation wasn’t making any sense. ‘Where are you?’ She peeled her head off the pillow and tried to spot him, thinking that would be a lot easier if the room stopped spinning around.
‘I’m down here.’
Lizzie rolled over and finally saw him on the floor, lying on a makeshift bed made out of cushions and her gym towel. He was still fully clothed and wearing a bemused smile.
‘Why you down there?’ She did not have the energy for complete sentences yet.
‘Well, it might have been easier to sleep next to you if you hadn’t been throwing up quite so much.’ Suddenly Lizzie remembered how she’d ended up in this state: the party. Or, to be more precise, Megan’s free-pouring punch-making efforts.
‘Meg OK?’ she groaned.
‘I’m not sure OK is the word, but she’s alive,’ he said. ‘I heard her getting up a little while ago, but she only got as far as the bathroom before she was sick too.’ He screwed up his nose. ‘The walls in this place are pretty thin.’
‘Everyone else?’ asked Lizzie.
‘Doing better than you, I’d imagine. Most folk went home around midnight when we ran out of beer. Andi took a cab back to mine and Connor crashed on your couch. Gareth’s still locked in his room with some girl. No idea what they were up to, though – they kept me awake half the night playing some Tom Jones track.’
‘Sex Bomb?’
‘Yes! Could you hear it too?’
‘No. Lucky guess.’
Lizzie lay back on the pillow and shut her eyes. The events of last night were starting to return to her brain now in fragmented bits and pieces. There had been blaring music, four types of pizza, Gareth’s special brownies (the recipe was a closely guarded secret, and possibly a class C offence) and, last but definitely not least harmful, Megan’s home-made punch.
‘Are you sure you’re meant to put that much alcohol in?’ Lizzie had asked suspiciously, after Megan decanted a generous helping of vodka into a bowl that was already swimming with rum.
‘Of course!’ Megan had said confidently. ‘Once you add the fruit juice and ice, the alcohol gets diluted right down anyway, so you don’t want to start off with it too weak.’ Lizzie wasn’t convinced. The concoction looked strong enough to take on 12 rounds with Lennox Lewis.
‘Here, try some,’ Megan insisted, filling a plastic white cup and thrusting her hand out. Curious, Lizzie took a sip. It tasted different – kind of zesty and tangy with a weird aftertaste – but it wasn’t unpleasant. ‘Are you sure it’s meant to have that strange kick to it?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘Yes, that’s how it’s supposed to be,’ sighed Megan, giving the mixture an exasperated stir. ‘This is going to go down a treat, trust me.’
As it turned out, the punch had gone down rather well. The trouble was, it came up even more easily.
‘Bleeeeeuuurrgh,’ Lizzie groaned, clamping her hand across her mouth as the sharp taste of sick rose in her throat yet again. She swung her legs out of bed and took an uneasy step towards the bathroom.
‘No, Lizzie, Megan’s still in there!’ shouted Alex. Her stomach heaved, and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold it long enough to get to the garden. ‘Use the bucket – the bucket!’
What bucket?
As if to answer her question, Alex sat upright and thrust a plastic orange bucket under her chin. Judging by the stench emanating from it, she could tell it wasn’t the first time he’d had to suffer through this rigmarole in the past few hours. If she hadn’t felt nauseous already, the smell alone would have tipped her over the edge – but, as it turned out, the contents of her guts didn’t need any prompting. She threw up all over the bucket and – to her horror – a bit on Alex’s hand as well. He grimaced, and Lizzie died a little inside. I am never getting pissed with Megan ever again, she promised herself. That’s if my liver manages to survive this bender.
�
��Sorry,’ she muttered, collapsing back onto the bed as he put the bucket down on the floor. ‘So gross.’
‘Well, it’s not your finest hour, I’ll give you that,’ he said.
She reached across to her bedside table to pass him a tissue, but as she did so she caught a blurry glimpse of a mark on the inside of her left wrist. She was about to rub it off when another burst of memory rebooted in her brain. Bloody hell, I forgot about the tattoo! She stared at it again. It was raised and slightly red this morning, like she’d been lying out in the sun for too long. Her head was still too scrambled to decide whether or not she liked it.
‘Ah, the new tattoo,’ said Alex. ‘Was that your idea or Connor’s?’
‘Mine,’ she replied slowly. I think. ‘Did I already show you?’
‘It was kind of hard to miss. Especially when you stood on the sofa and made a special announcement about it to everyone.’
‘What?! When?’
‘Right before you suggested we do those shots of tequila.’
‘Noooooo.’ She wanted to yank the duvet over her face to hide her embarrassment, but she was lying on top of it and couldn’t face the idea of moving again just yet.
‘Why don’t you rest here for a while? I’ll go down to the kitchen and maybe make me and Connor some breakfast.’ He rested his right hand gently on her leg. ‘Do you think you could eat something? It might do you good.’
Lizzie shook her head. The only thing that was going to do her any good now was lying perfectly still in a dark, quiet room. Preferably with the bucket close to hand.
‘Rest,’ she murmured, her eyelids feeling heavy in their sockets. The sound of silence greeted her, and she was glad.
Thirty minutes or so later, she found herself stirring again, her senses awoken by the aroma of bacon wafting up the stairs, which was infinitely preferable to the smell of vomit wafting from her bedside. Though she hadn’t felt the slightest bit hungry when Alex had asked, all of a sudden she was ravenous. Her head had also stopped spinning to the point that movement now seemed like a vague possibility. She got up slowly, taking baby steps across the carpet, and reached for the fluffy white robe hanging on the door. You can do this, she told herself. A bacon sarnie would be her reward.
She tackled the stairs gingerly, one at a time, not wanting to lose her balance and go sprawling to the floor. Her body had already been through enough for one weekend. As she was about halfway down, she heard male voices coming from the kitchen. It sounded like Alex and Connor were in the middle of a heated debate, their loud voices grating on her brain like nails down a blackboard. Part of her was tempted to retreat back upstairs to the library-like peace of her bedroom. But another part, the nosy one, made her stop in her tracks and listen.
‘So that’s it?’ said Connor angrily. ‘You’re just going to forget everything we’d planned now? To do what – stay down here and play house?’
‘It wasn’t set in stone,’ said Alex. ‘It’s not like we booked anything.’
‘But we’d discussed all this. You said that once you’d got your degree, we’d go travelling again. I thought we’d decided.’
‘That was ages ago. Look, you know I’d love to go, but I just don’t think another year abroad is the right move for me at the moment.’
‘Alright, what if we went for six months?’
‘I can’t, Connor. I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry? Do you know how hard I’ve been saving up for this trip? How long I’ve been counting down the months in that crappy job, because we were supposed to be getting out of here this summer?’
‘I didn’t realise things were that bad.’ Alex sounded despondent. ‘Look, what if we went away for a holiday instead? Two weeks, maybe three …’
Lizzie heard the sound of something – possibly Connor’s fist – banging against the kitchen table. ‘I don’t want to go out there on some sort of package deal, Alex! I want to do it properly, off the beaten track. The way we talked about it.’
‘I can’t do that any more. Things have changed.’
‘So this is about her.’ Lizzie assumed that she must be the ‘her’ in question and felt strangely guilty, even though she wasn’t aware that she’d actually done anything wrong.
‘Don’t bring her into this …’
‘But I’m right, aren’t I? Now it makes sense. You’re bailing on your own brother for a girl.’
Alex’s voice grew louder. ‘I thought you liked her? Yesterday you were the tattoo twins, remember?’
‘I do like her. But I didn’t take you for one of those blokes who ends up completely under the thumb. Girlfriend says he can’t come out and play …’
‘It’s not like that, alright? She didn’t stop me from going, because I didn’t ask her permission in the first place.’
A momentary hush descended over the house. Lizzie crouched down and leaned closer to the banister.
‘I don’t understand.’ Connor sounded puzzled. ‘Why don’t you just talk to her about it? I’m telling you, she’ll be cool. And she could always come out and meet us for a bit, maybe over the Christmas holidays or something.’
‘No, that won’t work. She hates flying.’
‘It’s only 11 hours!’
‘No, you don’t get it – she really hates it. She’s got a phobia.’ Alex paused. ‘So I can’t ask her to do that.’
‘Well, then, you call one another, and you email. If it’s meant to be, I’m sure she’ll still be here when we get back.’
‘Connor, you’re not listening. It’s my decision. I don’t want to go away for a year.’
‘Why? You’re 22, Alex. You’ve got the rest of your life to settle down. I know you think that things are serious with Lizzie now, but—’
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ interrupted Alex crossly. ‘This isn’t like one of your flings. I’m going to ask her to marry me after she graduates.’
Whaaat? Lizzie’s heart began beating so loudly she was sure both boys would hear it. The only other person who seemed more surprised than her was Connor.
‘Are you serious? When did you decide all this?’
‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while. But I was sure last night.’
‘At the party?’
‘Sort of. When she threw up in her room.’
Connor had nothing.
Alex tried to elaborate. ‘I mean, I know that sounds … it wasn’t like … I just realised I don’t want to leave her. Ever.’
It wasn’t an elegant explanation, but to Lizzie it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard. Ever since that night on the beach, she couldn’t shake off the niggling dread that he might decide to go travelling. She’d tried to broach the subject several times, but had always clammed up: too scared of what he might say or what she might ask of him. Now, not only had he decided to stay, he was also planning to propose! The excitement even managed to trump her hangover.
‘So let me get this straight – you’re blowing off the trip of a lifetime because your missus can’t hold her booze?’
Ouch. That one hurt. She might have overdone it a bit last night, but she wasn’t exactly an alcoholic. Also, she wished he hadn’t mentioned booze. Her insides were still feeling delicate.
‘Don’t push it, Connor. I said I’m sorry. But I can’t give up everything and jet halfway round the world with you right now.’
‘So what, you’re just going to stay here? Keeping working some dead-end job at that bar of yours?’
‘I’ll stay for a bit, yeah. Lizzie can finish her course and then we’ll decide what we’re doing together.’
‘And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Take off by myself?’
‘That’s up to you, I guess.’
‘Well, don’t think I’m not going just because you’ve changed your mind. Jeff’s still out in Thailand. I can always stay with him.’
‘Fine.’
‘Fine!’ Connor was really angry now. ‘I’m telling you, in six months you’ll regret th
is. Be begging to come out and see me.’
‘Of course I’ll still come and see you. You’re my brother.’
‘Whatever. Don’t do me any favours.’ Lizzie heard a set of keys being jangled. ‘Well, I’m going to get on my way. No point hanging around here.’
‘Don’t you want to finish your breakfast?’
‘No. I’ve lost my appetite.’
The sound of footsteps grew louder, and Lizzie realised she needed to move quickly before she was caught eavesdropping. She tried to head back up the stairs, but a floorboard creaked and gave her away.
‘Is someone there?’ called out Alex.
Busted. She turned around and plodded back down the stairs, more loudly this time, in the hope that they would think she’d just woken up. ‘It’s only me,’ she said. ‘Maybe I’ll have some of that bacon after all.’
‘Here Lizzie, you can have my seat,’ Connor said awkwardly. ‘I was just going to fetch Andi and get on the road.’
‘Are you sure you can’t stay a while?’ she said, trying to play peacekeeper. She knew how close Alex was to his brother, and she wanted them to work this thing out before it came between them. Before I come between them, she suddenly realised.
‘No, I can’t today, I’m afraid. Stuff to do,’ he said, not quite looking at her. ‘I’d better head off.’
She caught sight of Alex’s crestfallen face out of the corner of her eye, but there was nothing more they could do this morning.
Connor will get over it. He just needs a few days to cool off.
‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Thanks for everything yesterday. We’ll see you again soon.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, mumbling to himself as he headed for the front door and pulled it shut behind him. She couldn’t quite make out his reply, especially with her woolly head. ‘What did he say?’ she asked Alex.
‘Nothing,’ he said.
She knew that wasn’t the truth. To her, it almost sounded like, ‘Don’t count on it.’
15
6 weeks to go …
Delving around in the back of her desk drawer, Lizzie pulled out a dried highlighter with no lid and a half-eaten chocolate bar. Yuk. She aimed for Naomi’s bin, basketball style, and quietly punched the air as both items went in. There was no one else around to witness her good shot apart from Serious Will the accountant, but she knew better than to distract him. He wouldn’t be impressed.