With the song coming to an end, I half expected her to vanish as quickly as she had appeared like some fanciful spectre of my imagination, but no - to my joy she remained and continued to dance, so captivated that I don't think she even noticed that one song had ended and another begun. I continued watching for two or three songs during which I decided that absolutely nothing was going to prevent me from offering myself to this girl. Offering I thought, because this was not a girl you pick up with some cheap chat-up line, not a girl who could be bought with a few drinks. She was an altar before which you should lay bare your soul.
Plucking up courage had never been one of my strong points, so I continued to watch her, too enthralled to be self-conscious but too shy to act. Perhaps five or six more songs had come and gone, through which I had been oblivious to everything but her. She had neither spoken to or looked at anyone but me all the while. How long we would have continued in this mutual stasis I have no idea, but suddenly as the music changed I was struck by one of those musical epiphanies, one of those moments when a song seems to be whispering the exact words you need to hear. Looking back, I guess I would not have been alone in succumbing to the seduction of Madonna's ‘Crazy for You’ back in the eighties, but those simple lyrics remain with me today, a work of genius.
As the song began, I was compelled, beyond the crippling shyness, to weave my way past the loners leaving the dance floor and between the now embracing couples. Standing mere inches away from this mysterious and enigmatic siren, I opened my mouth with no idea of what I was going to say. As I stood there, mouth agape, she simply placed her finger against my lips to silence me and then slowly pulled me close enough to wrap her arms lightly around my waist, her hands resting on my hips.
For the second time that night the universe seemed to tumble in on itself leaving only she, I, the music and the delicate but intoxicating smell of her hair and skin. As our bodies gently moved in time a warmth seemed to envelop us. We stayed that way, not speaking but just holding each other until the music drew to a close. Before I could even consider what to do next, she had clasped my hand in hers and begun gently leading me away from the dance floor toward the exit. Once again she halted me before I could utter a word. She spoke quietly,
"There's no need to talk. Who I am, who you are isn’t important. On a beautiful night like this, we should be under the stars."
I didn't have to think twice, I knew exactly what to do. I merely replied, "it's a bit of a walk"
Silently we walked, my arm resting on her shoulder pulling her close.
She didn't seem the slightest bit concerned as eventually we left the path and wound our way through dark foliage to the edge of the cliff. When we reached the spot where I had spent the previous night, I gestured down at the floor and we both sat.
"I came here wondering what it was all for," I said sweeping my arm across the sky, "now I understand - it's for you... and I"
She turned to me and smiled the most beautiful smile, "and so now, we both know."
She kissed me and we made love there, under the stars.
Afterwards she said, “Remember this always. Nothing can ever spoil this night; neither you nor I. Even death itself cannot erase our time together. Whatever happens in our lives, these hours we have shared will transcend all bounds. Though we cannot see or re-live them, these moments we spent together will remain, as perfect as they were, until time itself ceases to exist."
I looked up at the night sky and pictured the fabric of time flowing away, flooding the gaps between the stars on its journey to the edge of the universe.
We fell asleep in our embrace and when I awoke she was gone. There was no sense of loss. As she said, our time together will transcend.
Lou Wellman, Editor and Administrator of the UK Kindle Users Forum
Lou has written several short stories published in anthologies similar to this and is planning to write his first novel in 2012.
Puppy Love
By David G Pearce
Christopher sat in his dressing room and looked at his primary school magazine and remembered Rebecca, his first girlfriend. It seemed like centuries ago given all that had happened to him, but just the sight of her slight figure and long brown hair held in place by an Alice Band was enough to send him right back there.
They had both started at St Joseph’s at the beginning of the Second year juniors. He had been moved there by his upwardly mobile parents because the local primary school followed a ‘progressive’ teaching curriculum. This boiled down to leaving the children to get into groups to decide who was going to do which part of a project. Christopher was the best reader in the group so he always looked up the information and told the rest of the group. This meant that his reading was three years ahead but his writing was barely legible because of lack of practice. The Headmaster of St Joseph’s tutted sympathetically as he reviewed Christopher’s performance in the entrance test.
‘Some real potential here, but his writing is a disaster. Cannot spell even the simplest words, can you Christopher? Not his fault, of course. The problem is with those damn progressive types trying to ruin our system from the ground up. Don’t worry, Mister Parker, we will bring him up to speed before the end of this year. You will find it hard work at first, Christopher, but keep at it and make some friends and you will settle in no time.’
He smiled as he remembered his first meeting with the Headmaster, Commander Allan, a man who would become as influential as any in his life.
On the first day both Christopher and Rebecca stood nervously at the front of the class. Rebecca looked so pretty in her maroon blazer and grey skirt that Christopher couldn’t take his eyes off her. She looked across and smiled at him and from that moment on his heart belonged to her. He couldn’t remember much else about the day, although Max Endicott could recall perfectly the moment he volunteered to show Christopher around, starting a friendship that was still the longest lasting and most important in Christopher’s life. He never admitted to Max that he could only remember Rebecca, because he felt sure that Max wouldn’t understand and may even be annoyed at such disloyalty.
St Joseph’s was a common entrance or 11 plus factory. All of the children, whose parents paid good money to send them here, were expected to be amongst the brightest or, failing that, good enough to make use of the contacts private education would give them. Despite that, the school did its best to treat each child as important and to develop their skills in whatever direction they wanted to go. Max was an excellent artist who was constantly encouraged to put his paintings into art shows, while Christopher was a talented actor who was always given the choice of parts at school plays. Rebecca was a very different case, quiet and shy but a girl who could turn heads effortlessly. She seemed to be happy to stay out of the limelight, but Christopher had other ideas. He was determined to find out what made her special then tell everyone else.
On a cold October morning the second years were enduring morning break, huddled in groups near the buildings to get away from the insistent wind that whistled around the enclosed playground. Rebecca was standing on her own, as she usually did, almost challenging Christopher to pluck up the courage to go over. This morning he decided to take up the challenge. He turned to Max.
‘I’m just going to see Rebecca, so I’ll see you in Art.’
‘I’ll just start taking bets on how long it takes you to kiss her shall I?’
‘Oh, be quiet Max! I knew you’d make fun of me.’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you … or your girlfriend!’
‘She is NOT my girlfriend. She’s just a friend who’s a girl!’
Christopher ran off, blushing angrily at Max’s amazing ability to understand what was going on in his head and the way he could wind Christopher up whenever he wanted to! He forced himself to calm down by the time he got over to Rebecca.
‘Hi, Rebecca. Are you alright? I saw you on your own and … would you like to walk round the playground or stay here?’
&nbs
p; ‘We’ll stay here. Thanks for coming over. It’s really sweet of you.’ She grinned as Christopher went the colour of the Manchester United football top he was so proud of! ‘What do you think of St. Joseph’s?’
‘It’s brilliant! My old school was horrible and the other kids didn’t like me. I was so pleased when my Dad said I was coming here. What about you?’
He watched her brush her hair away from her ear. He wasn’t sure why, but it gave him a really strange feeling whenever he watched it. He could spend whole lessons gazing at her, whole playtimes committing her movements to memory. He thought he had seen all of her movements, but he was wrong. Instead of answering him she carefully moved her right hand up to her eye to brush away the tear that had started to fall. Christopher felt a sudden tightening in his chest and an uncomfortable lump in his throat that made it difficult to swallow. He had to say something or he was afraid he’d lose her.
‘Don’t you like the school then?’ Rebecca’s only reply was a quick shake of the head which dislodged another tear from her cheek. ‘You can talk to me if you want. I won’t tell anyone, cross my heart and hope to die!’
‘Thank you, Christopher.’
She gave him a watery smile that seemed to send something like a jolt of electricity through his body. Confused and speechless he stood there awkwardly waiting for her to continue.
‘I don’t want to talk about it now. I will tell you, I promise, cross my heart and hope to die.’
The bell rang out across the playground and they walked back to class together ignoring the buzz of conversation about them as Max started to pass on the news about Christopher’s new girlfriend!
At lunchtime Rebecca retreated to the safety of the headmaster’s garden. She seemed to be there every day weeding the flowerbeds. Christopher had thought she just really enjoyed gardening, but now he knew there was more to it. Today, it was Max’s turn to clear up after lunch. Christopher wouldn’t have a better chance to see her without his best friend’s teasing getting him annoyed.
The headmaster gave Christopher an amused look as he asked if there was anything he could do in the garden.
‘I didn’t know you enjoyed gardening, Parker. I’m glad for the help though. Take a trowel and you can tackle that flowerbed with young Miss Smart.’
He watched as Christopher almost ran over to where Rebecca was already studiously removing weeds. So, Miss Greaves was right when she said that there was a serious case of puppy love in the Second year! Walking away, he decided it would be very good for Miss Smart, but possibly not for young Master Parker who was already having problems concentrating in class!
‘I’m helping you with the weeding, Rebecca.’ Christopher announced as he joined her. ‘You’ll have to tell me what to dig up. Mum won’t let me do anything in the garden, because I keep digging up her flowers.’
‘Start with the dandelions then.’ Rebecca looked at Christopher’s blank face. ‘You really don’t know what you’re doing do you? They’re the ones you blow when we walk to the swimming pool.’
He was determined to do a good job because he knew if he pulled up the Head’s flowers he’d never be allowed in the garden again. His serious expression made Rebecca laugh. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh and he knew that as long as he lived he’d never hear a nicer sound.
They weeded together in silence. Christopher somehow knew that he shouldn’t talk to her at that moment. After five minutes, that seemed like forever, Rebecca started to speak.
‘I used to be at school in Dover. It was a private school like this and I loved it. Everyone was really nice to me. I’m not saying that people aren’t nice to me here’ she added quickly, ‘but it’s not the same. I came up here with my Mum after my parents divorced. I was told I was leaving St. Augustine’s and Dad on the same day. They only told me two days before the end of summer term so I didn’t have time to say a proper goodbye to any of my friends. They said they’d write, but it’s been three months and only Ruth has written. If she stops there won’t be anyone who I can talk to about this.’
‘You can talk to me.’ Christopher blurted out. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.’
‘I know I can talk to you. Isn’t that what I’m doing now?’
He looked over to see Rebecca’s teasing smile and the Man United blush was back!
‘I’m going back there at Christmas. We break up two days before St. Augustine’s, but I know things won’t be the same. Dad’s trying really hard to make things nice for me. He’s gone totally mad on presents and he’s arranged for me to go back to St Augustine’s. Maybe I won’t go. Maybe I’ll see them before Christmas out of school. I probably won’t see them at all because I know I’ll just be Rebecca who they used to know. They’ll be interested in what I’m doing but they won’t even remember me next Christmas.’
The silent tears were back and, because he didn’t know what else to do, Christopher reached out for Rebecca’s hand. He expected her to take it away, but he wanted her to know he cared. To his surprise she didn’t take it away. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand to say thank you making him start in surprise. The electricity from that squeeze could have kept Old Trafford’s floodlights going for a whole game!
After that lunchtime they were a permanent fixture in the Headmaster’s garden. He told Rebecca that he wanted to be an actor when he grew up and she was the first person who didn’t laugh or pat him on the head. When she said he could do it, he believed it. Miss Greaves eventually decided to give up the fight and she allowed them to sit together. Now he wasn’t wasting his time looking longingly across the classroom, Christopher improved in every subject. Well, every subject apart from art, but even love couldn’t make him draw properly! Rebecca now showed that she had a wicked sense of fun to go with her brains and her beauty. Even Max had to admit that Rebecca was really good fun, even if Max himself was NEVER going to have a girlfriend! They were far too soppy to bother with!
One lunchtime in the garden they were walking along holding hands, when suddenly Rebecca stopped and looked deeply into Christopher’s eyes. He wondered if he’d got a smudge of dirt on his face and raised his hand to brush away whatever it was. Rebecca just laughed that soft musical laugh and kissed him on the lips. Christopher didn’t know how to react so he just stood there with his eyes wide open in surprise. When he saw Rebecca’s eyes close he decided he’d better do the same. All he could feel then was the soft moistness of her lips and his stomach performing somersaults of joy. Their first kiss had been totally natural and even getting a reaction from an audience couldn’t compete with the complete joy of that moment. They were nine years old and in love and nothing else mattered.
The following morning Rebecca sealed her devilish reputation by repeating the kiss in front of the whole class! The first kiss had been perfect. Their second was just for fun to see what the other kids would think. It certainly worked as they were the talk of the school for the next two weeks! Just being together, holding hands and sharing secrets was enough for them. He bought a Christmas present for Rebecca that year, the first one he’d paid for with his own money, the single of Puppy Love by Donny Osmond. She rang him up on Christmas Day from her Dad’s house and he could hear it playing in the background. His stomach started doing flips all over again.
‘I can’t believe I was so worried about going back. The girls were amazing and Ruth was so pleased to see me. I told her about you and she said you sounded really sweet. I bet you’re blushing now!’
‘Stop it! If Dad sees me blushing when I’m talking to you he won’t let me forget it!’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you after the holidays.’
When Christopher put the phone down he had visions of how much fun the next three years would be with Rebecca sitting next to him. It kept him going through the long holidays and he couldn’t wait to go back to school. The shared secrets, the whispered jokes and the occasional kiss made school the most amazing time of his lif
e. He bought her a Milky Bar Easter Egg at the end of that term and she had insisted on sharing it with him. Everything was perfect. Then, a few days into summer term Rebecca dropped a bombshell that completely turned his world upside down.
‘I’ve got something to tell you.’ The sudden tears appearing in the corner of her eyes made his chest tighten as if someone was tying a knot around his heart. ‘I’m going to go back to my Dad’s in August.’
‘That’s OK. I’ll miss you but I’ll see you in September.’
‘No, Christopher, I’m going back there to live. I’m going back to St. Augustine’s. Mum is going to move to France and she can’t take me with her. I’m leaving St. Joseph’s at the end of this term.’
For the first time, Christopher started to cry in front of her. Rebecca took his hand, but he angrily removed it and ran off to the boys’ toilets to finish crying in private.
How could she do this to him? Why did her Mum have to take that stupid job? Didn’t she know how much he loved Rebecca? It wasn’t fair. He went to the nurse and told her he’d been sick and he needed to go home. He couldn’t sit next to her, not today anyway.
After he had calmed down, on his second day at home, he talked to his Mum about Rebecca and how much he loved her. He asked if she could stay at their house so she could still go to school with him. His Mum just laughed and started singing ‘Puppy Love’.
‘I hate you!’
‘How dare you speak to me like that! You are just being stupid. How can you know anything about love? You’re only nine years old. You won’t even remember her in a few years time. You’re back to school tomorrow, whether you like it or not!’
Hearts and Arrows Page 4