The Boy I Loved Before

by Jenny Colgan

  Justin smiled.

  ‘Well, I’d better get downstairs and back into my double life,’ said Ethan with a big sigh. He wiped off his tears in the mirror and reapplied his mascara.

  ‘You’re going to be just fine,’ I said, patting him on the back.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Justin.

  I followed the boys downstairs to the kitchen. Fallon was holding court by the fridge.

  ‘Ooh, Ethan,’ she cooed when she saw him, ‘come stand by me, baby. I want to feed you some fruit.’

  He did, and she fussed and patted round him.

  ‘Ooh, don’t stop, darling,’ he said.

  I wandered into the back garden, to stop myself accidentally kicking her in the tits. Was I old enough to get done for GBH?

  The air was heavy with woodsmoke, the residue of a bonfire set up there earlier, which was still crackling away. Boys were dancing around it at the far end of the garden, swigging heavily from enormous two-litre bottles of cheap cider. Suddenly I felt a touch on my elbow. I turned round. It was Justin.

  ‘Thanks again for … in there,’ he said gruffly. ‘I thought he was going to have, like, hysterics or something.’

  ‘You sound like the general of the army,’ I said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. You’ll grow out of it.’

  He looked at the ground. Then he looked at me, leaning on his arm against a tree. His big grey eyes were appealing to me. He smelled of youth; of cigarettes, cheap beer, cheap aftershave and woodsmoke. It went straight to my head. He blinked nervously.

  ‘Flo …’ he said. Then he leaned in, looking at me all the time, desperate not to misread the signals, constantly waiting for the confused messages, the outright no, the slap on the face. There was none. Very tentatively, very softly, almost trembling with nerves, he started to kiss me. At first I was shocked, then suddenly found myself desperately wanting to give in to his soft young lips …

  ‘Flo,’ Justin was saying, gulping, and grabbing at me with increasing strength.

  ‘FLORA!’ came a shouting voice. The spell was broken instantly and I jumped back.

  ‘Fuck, that’s my brother,’ said Justin.

  ‘He’s meant to be walking me home,’ I said, stuttering, trying to straighten my top.

  ‘I’ll walk you home,’ said Justin.

  ‘Um, that’s OK,’ I said, wondering what Clell might say to that particular little arrangement.

  ‘Ummm …’

  ‘FLORA!’

  ‘I’d better go,’ I said. ‘I promised my dad.’

  Justin kissed me. Then he kissed me again. Then the whole thing started taking off again …

  ‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘I have to.’

  I kissed him absolutely definitely for the last time. Then once or twice more for luck. Then once more for the road. Then I reappeared, breathless, inside the kitchen door.

  Clelland was standing there looking annoyed.

  ‘Where the devil have you been?’

  ‘Looks like someone’s been out behind the bushes,’ said Fallon, clocking my fevered cheeks and racing breathing.

  ‘I’m ready,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t forget your hymen!’ sang Fallon gaily.

  ‘Listen, you useless, anorexic sack of shit,’ I said, turning on her suddenly. ‘You know how when parents divorce they say it’s never the child’s fault? Maybe in your case you should re-examine that clause.’

  She stepped back as if I’d slapped her. I remembered at the last minute that you never ever diss anyone’s parents. Fortunately I’m very mature and in control of myself. Equal psychic scarrings for everyone tonight.

  ‘Are they fighting for anti-custody of who doesn’t get you?’

  ‘Shut up,’ she said. ‘Shut up shut up shut up.’

  ‘Well, stop coming it with me, fat tits.’

  ‘Ethan!’ she said, her huge eyes wet with tears.

  ‘Oh, hi, Flora,’ said Ethan. ‘Have a good night?’

  ‘Hey,’ I said.

  ‘Watch out for yourself,’ he said.

  ‘WHAT?’ said Fallon.

  I turned round and looked at Clelland. ‘Shall we go?’ I said.

  ‘Are those teenagers still fighting?’ said Madeleine, coming out from behind the door. ‘How terribly fascinating.’

  ‘I’m walking these two home,’ said Clelland. He looked next to me. ‘Oh God, where’s the other one? She was here a moment ago.’

  ‘Stanzi!’ I yelled. She appeared, staggering slightly, from the coats cupboard, closely followed by a de-spectacled Kendall, looking stunned. I couldn’t help smiling, and, smiling too, Clelland caught my eye.

  ‘Right!’ he said. ‘All out!’

  ‘Uh, Mr Clelland, sir …’

  We looked at each other again. It was Kendall.

  ‘Yes, what is it?’ said Clell, in his best exasperated teacher impersonation.

  ‘Can I walk Constanzia home, sir?’

  ‘Is she staying at yours?’ Clelland asked me. I nodded. ‘OK. If she’s agreeable, you can walk ten feet in front of us, fully visible at all times.’

  ‘Right, OK, great, thanks, mate,’ said Kendall, flustered.

  ‘I just went from “Mr Clelland” to “mate”,’ Clell complained to me.

  ‘Next stop, “wanker”!’ I said cheerfully.

  ‘Constanzia,’ Kendall was clearing his throat, ‘might I ask if I can walk you … ?’

  Stanzi had already leaped on him like a flying red and black bat and we had to usher them out the door glued to each other.

  ‘Hormones,’ Clelland said when we were finally out of the house, walking very slowly behind a stumbling, giggling StanziKendallphant. ‘Drive you crazy at that age … Christ, I keep forgetting. Hang on a minute …’

  I was scarcely listening, my pulse was racing so fast. I was still having trouble catching my breath. What on earth had I just done? ‘What?’

  ‘Are you really thirty-two?’

  I couldn’t work out why he was asking me. He didn’t suspect, surely.

  ‘What do you mean, am I thirty-two? Are you thirty-four? Anyway, how would you know? It’s not like you ever attend any of my birthday parties.’

  This seemed to put him off the scent and we walked in silence for a while. I snuck a sideways peek at him. He looked relatively unruffled, certainly not angry with me. Maybe I’d got away with it.

  ‘We’re walking round the block again!’ hollered Stanzi, disengaging suction. We followed.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt thirty-two,’ I said finally. ‘I think I’ve always felt like this.’

  ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Me too, probably. But if everyone behaved like that …’

  ‘There’d be a lot fewer wars.’

  ‘Are you joking? You and that gorgeous dark-haired girl would have let off nuclear weapons at each other by now.’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ I said. I hung my head in shame. Could I have behaved any worse than I had tonight? ‘Well, boys have no idea what it’s like at school. You have no idea how nasty people can be.’

  ‘Are you nuts? Don’t you remember me getting my head kicked in for wearing Robert Smith-style lipstick?’

  ‘You were asking for that.’

  ‘That’s unfair.’

  ‘Well, yes, but Tom Philmore kicked your head in, and you were playing football with him the next day.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Girls can make this kind of thing last for months. Also, psychological torture’s much worse than physical stuff.’

  ‘I’ll ask you about that again next time you’re about to get your head kicked in.’

  We’d reached the gate. Stanzi and Kendall were enmeshed in each other like a science project. I’d almost managed to clear my head of the stolen kiss.

  ‘Stanzi, we have to go before my dad comes out,’ I said. It was near the witching hour of one a.m.

  ‘You tell him, I kill you,’ she managed to get out without even coming up for air.

  Clelland a
nd I hovered for a while.

  ‘Sorry I lifted you up in the air,’ he said.

  ‘God, no. It could have got a bit unpleasant in there. Thanks for saving me from a baying acned mob.’

  ‘Anytime,’ he said.

  ‘Plus, I bet you liked doing it,’ I teased.

  ‘Only wish I’d thought of it earlier,’ he said. I looked at him in the light from the streetlamp. There was a little line between his eyebrows, just the tiniest furrow.

  A light went on upstairs in the house.

  ‘Now!’ I said to Stanzi, grabbing her. She popped off like a sucker from a car window.

  Clelland smiled ruefully. ‘Mind you don’t miss your curfew now,’ he said.

  ‘Hey! I get enough of this shit from Tashy, I refuse to take it from you.’

  ‘OK, OK. Go.’

  I looked up at him once again. And he smiled, pulled me over to him and gave me a kiss, right on the forehead.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he said softly.

  ‘You know,’ I said, ‘I’d like to say I had a good time tonight.’

  ‘Hurry up!’ said Stanzi as the hall light came on. Kendall had already scarpered.

  I went in, but it wasn’t my dad who was there to greet me. It was my mother.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I thought it was …’ Then she choked and turned her face away.

  ‘Mum? Mum!’ I said, genuinely concerned as her face crumpled up.

  Stanzi, silently disappeared to the spare room.

  ‘He’s …I thought he wasn’t going to be so late any more.’

  I looked at my watch. ‘What do you mean, “any more”? How often is he this late?’

  My mother bit her lip. ‘I’m not the bitch in this family, Flora. You have to believe that.’

  I made her a cup of tea. Her hands were shaking. Then I put my arms around her and I gave her a hug.

  ‘Ssh,’ she said. ‘It’s alright. Go to bed.’

  But it wasn’t alright. She shooed me up the stairs, where I lay on the bed, curled in a tight ball with my eyes closed, wishing and wishing and wishing this wasn’t happening; wishing it wasn’t my fault that my mother was going through this again.

  At two thirty, the front door opened. There were raised voices, then tears. Voices raised again, then hushed quickly. I heard ‘You’re never!’ and ‘Not the first time’. I put my fingers over my ears. The last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep was my father trying to calm my mother; saying, ‘It’s going to be alright.’ I wondered if she was convinced.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It is amazing how much you can get away with not mentioning in families. Amazing. And by the time Monday came around, it was a lovely day. What a nice day. Autumnal, crisp. I’d grown to hate lovely days over the last few years, resenting how they made staying in the office even worse, Dean breathing down my neck every five minutes, making sure nobody could have fun just because the sun was shining. It was pathetic how everyone sat in the concrete garden, desperate to eat our Pret à Manger in just a slice of sunlight. Olly and I always meant to go somewhere outside at the weekend, but by the time we’d read the papers and he’d worked and we’d bickered a bit and I’d got to the gym and … well, half the time it never happened. Actually, it never ever happened, even when we meant to.

  But this was one of those back-to-school days that requires a grey V-neck sweater and some nice fresh stationery. And I had both of those! Mum, quieter than ever, had even made porridge, which I secretly completely loved, as did my dad – as a consequence of which, she hadn’t made it in years. I tried not to think about the fact that I’d glanced at the calendar. And … well, I had twelve days till Tashy’s wedding. Twelve days till God knows what. Twelve days. And I badly wanted to make the most of them.

  ‘Good party then?’ my dad asked me.

  My mum glanced up at him immediately. I’d spent the entire day before barricaded in my room, simply so I could read the broadsheet papers without snorts of derision coming from my dad over the Mail on Sunday about who was getting all pretentious then, but maybe he thought I was swooning with love for some lad. Oh God. Well, when it came down to it, I had snogged him. Oh God. I was trying to pretend it was all a dream, like the rest of my life. Except – oh, this was ridiculous. I had butterflies. I hadn’t had those for years. Yes, his lips were very pink and very soft and he did smell dreamy, but this was just a combination of hormones and nostalgia. Wasn’t it? I told myself sternly. YES.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. Then I did a reflex I hadn’t done for years and would have sworn I couldn’t remember what it was. I put my hand up to my neck to check for lovebites.

  My dad shot my mother another look, but she wouldn’t respond.

  ‘I was very good,’ I said.

  ‘Was that sexy counsellor there? They should have sent her to keep an eye on things.’

  ‘Dad!’

  My dad had known Tashy since she was six! Kind of.

  ‘I just think she’s a good influence on you, that’s all.’

  ‘I think I’m going to walk. Gotta go!’

  I dawdled along, kicking leaves up in the air, forgetting for a moment that I was anything other than a kid on her way to school, thinking about English class, walking past Clelland’s house as usual. I remembered how I used to hang out, desperately hoping to see him walk past. Now I was trying to scuttle past quickly in case either Clelland brother happened to be there.

  Clelland senior was outside the garden gate.

  ‘Um, hi,’ I said.

  ‘Um, hi,’ he said, looking a bit flustered. I don’t know why; I went to school at the same time every day, didn’t I? No, no, I didn’t. I was an adult with different routines and choices, I tried to remind myself.

  ‘Have you moved back home?’ I asked.

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Touché,’ I said.

  ‘No, it’s just, Maddie doesn’t really like her parents thinking we … you know. While we’re in the country.’

  ‘Are they God botherers?’

  ‘And how. I mean, no, not … just Christians, you know, perfectly normal.’

  Suddenly Justin came out of the front door. My heart started to palpitate again. He saw me and immediately went red from the tips of his ears to his shirt collar. Oh, for goodness’ sake.

  ‘Come on, small bear,’ shouted Clelland.

  I looked at them both.

  ‘He’s not walking me to school,’ said Justin sullenly. ‘He just won’t leave me alone.’

  ‘I’ve been in Africa for two years,’ said Clelland. ‘Is a little bit of bonding too much to ask?’

  ‘Bonding, not babysitting,’ said Justin crossly. ‘And your stupid girlfriend keeps gubbing on about Africa. Are you going or aren’t you?’

  Clelland suddenly turned a bit tight-lipped.

  ‘Shall we go?’ he said.

  There was no way round it. I had to walk in between them. Clelland was looking at me with some amusement.

  ‘So what do you have at school today, little lady?’

  ‘I’m selling drugs behind the science block, destroying the fabric of society, failing to vote, expecting the world to owe me a living and sleeping with the PE teacher,’ I said grumpily. Justin kept sneaking peeks at me and brushing my hand, and I had no idea what to do about it.

  ‘You obviously love school,’ said Clelland.

  ‘Ever since they did away with corporal punishment it’s just not the same,’ I said.

  Clelland laughed down his nose at me and shook his head.

  Stanzi met me at the front gates. She had a gigantic hickey down one side of her neck.

  ‘Stanz,’ I said, ‘you look like a pram face.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ she said proudly. ‘I’ve never had one before.’

  ‘I don’t think you want to advertise every single stage of your secondary sexual development,’ I said. ‘Necessarily.’

  ‘Ooh, there’s Kendall,’ she said, waving furiously. OK. Maybe there were a few long roads of wis
dom to womanhood she had to set foot on.

  Kendall beamed his head off when he saw her and came running over. Oh. Maybe not.

  They giggled and pawed each other quietly and I pretended not to care as we wandered towards English.

  ‘Miss Scurrison.’

  I looked up to see the teacher standing over me.

  ‘Hi,’ I said. ‘How are you?’

  The rest of the class laughed, thinking this was just cheek. I realised I was just trying to be normal. Teachers aren’t normal. I was aware that I kept making mistakes like this, like those aliens in science-fiction films who are trying to pass as humans but keep eating the cutlery. Last week I’d been caught listening to early choral music.

  ‘I’m fine, thank you, Miss Scurrison,’ said Miss Syzlack sarcastically. ‘I’m always fine on Monday mornings after I’ve spent the entire weekend marking.’

  I picked up the essay she’d put in front of me. An A! I’d never had a straight A in my life! I was a compulsive B student. This was great.

  ‘Thanks!’ I said.

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ said the teacher.

  ‘Swotto lesbo,’ said Fallon quietly from the back.

  I turned round as Miss Syzlack walked back to the front.

  ‘Are you starting?’

  She gazed at me for a minute.

  ‘No,’ she said sullenly, and went back to doodling on her folder.

  ‘Yes, Flora got the only A in the class,’ said Miss Syzlack.

  I couldn’t help it, I beamed with pride. They should do this at work. If you spend weeks on a report, with proper colour graphs and everything, you should get a big mark for it and everyone should be impressed, rather than leafing through them and throwing them in the bin immediately.

  ‘She’s the only person who didn’t clearly cut and paste the entire thing from the Internet. It’s about original thinking, guys.’

  A groan went up from the whole class – including me, when I realised how much time I’d wasted on the damn thing. But I didn’t care. I was still glowing. And all I had to do that afternoon was three hours of art, then five of us (including Ethan and Kendall) were off for Coke floats and a lengthy party post-mortem. Hurrah! I’d forgotten that these could take weeks and would involve much embroidery. I was really going to drop Fallon in it this time.