The Boy I Loved Before

by Jenny Colgan

  My heart plummeted suddenly. Oh God, my poor mother. I had offered my mother the chance of happiness then dragged it away from her. I blinked back the tears from my eyes. But that wasn’t my world to live in, was it? Was it? I would be so, so good to her now …

  ‘Flora?’ It was my mother’s voice.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Nothing, you just looked a bit sick there, and your dad and me wondered if you were alright.’

  She came into the bathroom. I stared and stared. Was this my mum? She was older again too, but not in the same way; not a bit of it. Her hair was nice and set, and she was trim and shapely-looking, not horribly bent over and skinny. She was wearing her wedding ring.

  ‘MUM!’ I burst into tears and flung my arms around her neck.

  ‘There, there,’ she said. ‘You’ve done so well, pretending you don’t mind your best friend marrying your ex-boyfriend, but I know there must be some strain, eventually …’

  ‘I really don’t mind,’ I said honestly. ‘I’m chuffed for them, I really am.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘It’ll be your turn next.’

  ‘You always say that,’ I said.

  ‘Well, me and your dad, we always want the best for you. Come on out, he’ll be worried about you, and we don’t want to worry him, do we?’

  ‘No,’ I said. I let her guide me out of the bathroom like a small child.

  ‘Hey, pet,’ said my dad, looking more rotund and jovial than ever. ‘Here’s my two most beautiful girls, eh?’

  My mother mock slapped him down.

  They were interrupted by Olly coming up and grabbing me in a huge bear hug.

  ‘You,’ he said in my ear, his voice choking with emotion, ‘are the best wolverine in the whole world.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ I said.

  ‘You’re not pissed off with us? Not that …I mean, I really didn’t know this was going to happen.’

  I grinned so wildly my face hurt. ‘It’s been that kind of month. Twice. Oh, Olly, I’m so chuffed. I’m so … I had no idea you two were in love.’

  ‘That’s because you were a self-obsessed teenage idiot,’ said Olly.

  ‘Oh, yeah.’

  ‘And I’m the luckiest man on earth,’ said Olly. Then he hugged my mother. ‘Mrs Scurrison, you are gorgeous as ever.’

  ‘Get away with you,’ said my mother. ‘And you be as good to that young lady as you were to Flora, now, do you hear?’

  We all sobered up a little at that.

  ‘I’ll try,’ said Olly.

  ‘You’ll succeed,’ I said.

  ‘Go see her,’ said Ol. ‘She’s in floods of tears, eating cake. Um, happy tears.’

  ‘She hasn’t eaten for six months,’ I said. ‘The cake probably got to her just in time.’

  ‘Go.’

  ‘Just a minute,’ I said. ‘There’s someone I have to see.’

  As I left, I could hear Oliver announcing to the crowd, ‘My wife and I …’

  As inconspicuously as I could, I left through the French windows. And there he was, still lying asleep in the grass by the fountain. Still beautiful and, gosh, so young. He stirred as my shadow fell upon him.

  ‘Er, yeah?’ he said, springing awake and jumping up. ‘Uh, sorry, have I missed something? Just dozed off for a second …’

  Fully standing, he stared at me. I don’t know what I expected. Well, I did. But just for a second I thought he might …

  He looked as if he almost did.

  ‘Sorry, you look really familiar to me.’

  Of course, he’d said that before. He’d guess in a minute.

  ‘Maybe you were having a dream,’ I said.

  ‘Huh.’ He shook down his new blue suit. ‘It was a nice dream.’ He coloured slightly.

  ‘How nice?’ I asked.

  ‘Um, er. Hi there.’ He stuck out his hand. ‘I’m Justin Clelland.’

  I nearly laughed. To keep from crying.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m Flora Scurrison.’ I paused. ‘I’m a friend of your brother’s.’

  His brow furrowed. ‘That sounds familiar. Didn’t you used to live near us?’

  ‘Something like that,’ I said.

  ‘Well, nice to meet you.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, swallowing hard. Then, there was a gentle touch on my shoulder, as the fountain tippled away endlessly, round and round for ever, in front of me.

  ‘You know,’ said the low voice behind me, rather similar to the one in front of me. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’

  I looked up at him, his wonderfully familiar face looking into mine, and felt a huge rush of relief.

  ‘Justin, scrammify,’ said Clelland over my shoulder.

  ‘Yawn yawn yawn,’ said Justin, and wandered off, muttering about not wanting to spend time with a couple of oldies anyway. I watched him go.

  ‘God, he seems such a baby!’ I said. Then, just at the last minute, he whipped round and stared at me. His face was a picture: quizzical and delighted. He stared at me. Then he raised an eyebrow. I winked at him. He stared for one more second then walked on, shaking his head in confusion. He knew.

  ‘So were you.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ I felt myself blushing, and smiling.

  He put his hand up to my face, then retracted it, as if it would be too intimate.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said.

  ‘It’s just … it’s so incredibly weird. Really, I haven’t seen you for sixteen years. Are you taller?’

  ‘I can’t believe you never ever contacted me. Not once, after all that time.’

  He shook his head. ‘Me neither. Life …’

  ‘And … Jeez, things have changed.’

  We started to walk away from the fountain, away from the formal garden.

  ‘Have you spoken to the bride and groom?’ I asked.

  ‘They are the happiest people in the history of the world. I think we’re agreeing to keep the whole thing quiet.’

  ‘I think that’s a good idea. Where’s Max?’

  ‘Oh, he’s at home. Tashy phoned him, just to check. Says some really young girl picked up the phone, so she reckons he’s getting over it.’

  ‘And it goes on,’ I said.

  ‘What about you?’ he said. ‘Have you changed?’

  ‘Apart from the crow’s-feet and the rather nifty trouser suit?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘No, I mean, in yourself. Everyone else has.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. No, not really. But I was practically perfect to begin with.’

  ‘Hmm. But I don’t know.’

  ‘Check your wallet.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know, but Tashy’s had a picture of Olly where Max’s used to be.’

  ‘Yeah, but I bet she’s had that for ages.’

  Nonetheless, I pulled it out of my small bag – with, bliss of blisses, my house keys and my credit card. Oh, I could never have dreamed of being so happy to see plastic and metal.

  ‘What’s this?’ I said suddenly, loudly, drawing a card out of my wallet. I held it up to the light. ‘Fuck! Clell, it says I’m a nut!’

  On the card, it did, in big black letters. N.U.T.

  Oh God. Was this a mental hospital? Had I dreamed the whole thing? Was I having psychotic episodes? Was Clelland my doctor? I mean, what had happened … it was impossible. Maybe I was in maximum security. Maybe …

  ‘Calm down,’ said Clelland, examining it, and seeing what was going through my head. ‘You’re not a nut.’

  ‘Are you sure? Maybe I’m babbling right now.’

  ‘You are. And just wait till you see this.’ He handed it over. ‘Look at it carefully.’

  I did. Clelland was eyeing me closely, waiting for my reaction. It started the birds from the trees.

  ‘National Union of TEACHERS!!!!’

  He started laughing.

  ‘I’m a TEACHER!!!!??????’

  ‘Beats accountancy, for sure.’

  ‘I’m a TEACHE
R!!!!????’

  ‘Oh, come on, think of the holidays.’

  He felt for my hand and took it as we strolled in amongst the trees.

  ‘I’d better be a fucking art teacher.’

  He giggled. ‘You’d better stop flirting with your charges.’

  ‘Fuck!!’

  My phone rang. The ringtone was ‘Colourblind’.

  ‘I think you’ve got one of your student’s phones.’

  ‘I think not,’ I said, promptly switching it off. ‘He’s a doctor and a Persian king, you know. Good mix.’

  He smiled. ‘Well, beats an old charity worker like me.’

  ‘Who’s old?’ I said.

  I glanced behind us into the twilight. The entire wedding party, it seemed, were out looking for us. Tashy’s gown was catching the last rays of the light of the Indian summer evening. I could see Justin in the distance. He was chasing Kathleen, Tash’s little niece, obviously restored to brides-maiding duties in the lovely empire dress, through a meadow. Their screams of laughter reached us. I smiled at him and suddenly felt peaceful. I’d spent all this time being torn in two, between two lives, between two worlds, between two sets of people, between family and friends.

  There were two of us here. But I didn’t feel torn at all.

  ‘Fancy a little bit of hide and seek?’ I winked at him.

  ‘Yes, miss!’

  So we hid behind the tree. And he took me in his arms and I didn’t object. And then I kissed him, and was kissed, properly. Like a grown-up. Without guidance and without restraint, just with sheer, perfect, fitting-together passion, without need for talking; without even a need to think. To paraphrase the Spice Girls, a band Stanzi didn’t even remember: two became one.

  Later, for sheer naughtiness, and because it’s what teenagers do, we carved our initials on the tree. So they’ll still be there this year, when we go back. For a special occasion of our own. That I’m hoping is going to be just as special as Olly and Tashy’s but in a very, very, very different way.

  I think I’ll stick to profiteroles.

  By the same author:

  Amanda’s Wedding

  Talking to Addison

  Looking for Andrew McCarthy

  Working Wonders

  Acclaim for Working Wonders:

  ‘Funny, magical and moving, this is a rewarding read.’

  Time Out

  ‘We laughed a lot.’

  Heat

  ‘A delicious comedy. Will melt even the hardest of hearts.’

  Red

  ‘Colgan’s witty book perfectly captures the frustrations and petty vexations of office life.’

  She

  ‘Hugely entertaining and very funny.’

  Cosmopolitan

  ‘A funny, clever page-turner.’

  Closer

  ‘Fans of The Office will love this witty tale.’

  Woman’s Own

  ‘A quirky tale of love, work and the meaning of life.’

  Company

  ‘If you think David Brent causes mayhem in The Office wait till you see what town-planner Arthur and his team get up to in Jenny Colgan’s comic romp.’

  In Style

  Looking for Andrew McCarthy:

  ‘Colgan is on top form in this, her latest outrageous romp.’

  Cosmopolitan

  ‘Jenny Colgan is one of the leaders of the pack and this, her third novel, will delight her legions of admirers. Fast-paced, funny, poignant and well-observed it reads as a pastiche of the movies she loved … If a time capsule were buried to capture the world at the turn of the 21st century, this would be a candidate for inclusion: her sense of time and place are that authentic.’

  Daily Mail

  ‘Looking for Andrew McCarthy will strike a chord with anyone who did their growing up in the 80s. Wonderful, warm and resonant for anyone who ever wondered what happened to teenage dreams.’

  Hello

  ‘That’s Life meets This Life, with Once in a Lifetime thrown in, all talking heads, witty one-liners and angst-ridden relationships … Did I like this book? Well, d’uh! Do hedgehogs have quills? A pure belter of a novel.’

  Glasgow Herald

  ‘Colgan’s enjoyable new bestseller investigates the notion that having it all can sometimes mean having precisely nothing at all.’

  Marie Claire

  ‘Colgan’s Looking for Andrew McCarthy is sharp, well-observed and hilarious.’

  New Statesman

  ‘Colgan’s got an ear for sarky dialogue and a humour that gives her more options … retro-irony, perfect for a conscientious objector’s beach holiday.’

  ID

  ‘Jenny Colgan delivers the goods with her new novel … absolutely brilliant! What really sets Jenny apart from most of her contemporaries is this: she is very, very funny, so much so that this book had me laughing out loud.’

  Express

  ‘There’s razor-sharp wit to this tale of romantic confusion.’

  Cosmopolitan

  Amanda’s Wedding:

  ‘Amanda’s Wedding is a scream.’

  Elle

  ‘Four Weddings and a Funeral meets Friends.’

  Tatler

  ‘Compulsively comical.’

  Cosmopolitan

  ‘Funny and insightful.’

  Mail on Sunday

  Jenny Colgan was born in 1972 in Ayrshire. After Edinburgh University, she worked for six years in the health service, moonlighting as a cartoonist and stand-up comic. She is the author of four previous bestselling novels: Amanda’s Wedding, Talking to Addison, Looking for Andrew McCarthy and Working Wonders, all of which are in development for film and TV. Jenny is married, lives in London and is working on her sixth novel. For more information, visit her website at www.jennycolgan.com.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  THE BOY I LOVED BEFORE. Copyright © 2004 by Jenny Colgan. All rights reserved No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  First published in Great Britain under the title Do You Remember the First Time? by HarperCollinsPublishers

  eISBN 9781466819429

  First eBook Edition : April 2012

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  ISBN 0-312-33198-3

  EAN 978-0312-33198-6