The Secret Story

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘Right,’ said Mum when we had all gathered. ‘Everyone’s here. Anyone want a cup of tea?’

  ‘Mum,’ I groaned. ‘If you wait another second, I swear I am going to explode.’

  ‘OK. What do you want first?’ Mum asked. ‘The good or the bad news?’

  ‘Bad news,’ said Dad. ‘Let’s get that over with.’

  ‘OK,’ said Mum. ‘The bad news is that Mrs Finkelstein died just after Christmas.’

  Lal couldn’t contain himself any longer. ‘And the good news is that she left me some money.’

  As soon as he’d told us how much, what he intended to do with it and we’d picked ourselves up off the floor, I raced to the phone and had to wrestle Steve for it. I won!

  I called Nesta first. ‘Oh my gorgonzola. I am coming to Florence!’ I blurted. ‘Some old dear left Lal some dosh for being kind to her cat and he’s going to give each of us two grand. Two grand! Yabadabadoodah. Mum and Dad said I can come to Florence with you guys. Oo, what to wear? OK, got to go, got to tell the others immedi-issimo.’

  Blissimo, I thought as I hung up and dialled Izzie’s number. Just goes to show in life that you never know what’s around the next corner. Life can be rubbish one minute then something amazing happens.

  It was half term and I was working on the computer when the photographs from Nesta in Italy came through. The girls had been gone just for a few days and apart from one call from Nesta to say that she’d arrived safely, we had heard nothing. Not that Mum and Dad were worried. They knew that there were teachers on the trip too. I had hoped that Lucy might have got in touch. I had been missing her and had begun to regret the night when we broke up. I was beginning to think that I’d rather be with her with no ‘extra-curricular activity’ than without her. I kept remembering how upset she’d looked the night we’d finished and I hoped that it hadn’t overshadowed her Italian trip, although I had a feeling that it might have done. She was clearly well cut up.

  I pressed the button to open the pictures and, as they began to download on to my computer, my phone bleeped that I had a text. I glanced at it to see who it was from. Andrea Morton, again. Pretty, slim, long blond hair, great body, seventeen and a laugh. Old mate of Hannah’s. We almost got it together last summer at a barbecue. I’d meant to get in touch, but never got round to it because she lives in Brighton now so she wasn’t exactly on my radar, and then Lucy happened.

  Andrea’s text was an invite to go to a rock weekend down near her. I was tempted. Apparently her parents were away. Rob and Hannah had already gone, but I’d stayed behind to get ahead with work. However, I’d been studying for days and was beginning to get brain overload – like I was reading the pages, but it wasn’t going in.

  I was about to text back Maybe next time (no harm in keeping the door open) when I glanced at the photos on my screen. I smiled when I saw pics of Izzie larking about doing a Buddha pose on a bed. Looks very posh for a school trip dorm, I thought as I looked at the plush room she was in – like some really posh hotel. Next was a pic of Nesta in her dark glasses sprawled across the bed with a cocktail glass in her hand. Typical Nesta, I thought. Probably got in with some rich tourists and blagged her way into their rooms. And then there she was. Lucy, pictured peeking out from behind a curtain, and then . . . I froze. What? Who? Photos of Lucy appeared with some tall blond guy. He was clearly well into her because he was kneeling at her feet with a stupid rose in his mouth, looking up at her adoringly and she was grinning like an idiot, clearly not missing me one bit. A couple more pics came through. None of Izzie or TJ or Nesta, just Lucy and the boy. I felt gutted and wasn’t sure if I was mad jealous or just mad mad that I’d been sitting here moping when the rest of the world was out having a life. I wondered if Nesta had sent the photographs on purpose – as if to say, ‘Lucy’s moved on, so should you.’

  Message received and understood, I thought as I picked up my phone to send Andrea a reply to her invite. I’ve been an idiot sitting here thinking that Lucy has been out there pining over me when actually it was me pining over her. Well, not for much longer. I’m nobody’s sucker. Brighton and Andrea, here I come.

  Lucy’s Diary

  25th February

  I am writing this on the plane coming home from Florence, Italy, Earth, the universe, etc, etc. I have had an unforgettable week. Italy is gorgissimo. We did all the sites, the Duomo (puff puff, about a million steps to get to the top), the Uffizi (loads of art, loads of tourists trying to see the art and me being short had to peer through people’s armpits in order to see anything), the Ponte Vecchio (loads of shops, need loads of money), Palazzo Vecchio (loads of painted walls). So – lots of art, lots of great ice cream, lots of marble statues with bare bottoms – and their willies showing too. Oo er. The most famous is David by Michelangelo, he is fit and a half Great bum. All very stunning, but as Izzie said by the end of it, we were totally frescoed out – we’ve decided to say that in future instead of freaked out – like, I’m so frescoed out about . . .

  Best of all though, I had a holiday romance with an American boy called Teddy who is a bit of a Michelangelo masterpiece himself – but a clothed one. We had our first kiss in Fiesole, a village up on the hill overlooking Florence. It was soooo romantic and I shall remember it and him for ever. I hope he writes and stays in touch. I think he will. One of the reasons that it was so great to hang out with him was because he took my mind off Tony and showed me that there are other boys that I fancy and there will be other boys that I have strong feelings for and boys who can show me different aspects of life. I guess like Nesta has always said, there are lots of different types of fruit in the basket and no one can say that one is better than the other, they’re just different. It’s like that with boys – pears, oranges, melons, mangoes and some that are plain bananas! All different. Back in the UK, I was beginning to think that Tony was the only one I would ever feel anything for. But now I feel renewed and refreshed and ready to start again. A life without Tony. Tadah.

  Izzie had a holiday romance too, with a gorgeous Indian boy called Jay. I think they will be an item when they get to the UK. Nesta got off with an Italian boy called Marco on the last night, it wasn’t exactly a holiday romance but a bit of fun. TJ was the only one of us who didn’t get off with anyone. She met a guy called Liam who was into her, but she didn’t fancy him. I think she still has feelings for Luke although she doesn’t say much and —

  ‘WARGH!’ I cried as the plane took a sudden dip. Seconds after came an announcement that we had hit some turbulence and should fasten our seat belts. That put a stop to my writing. The plane lurched again and someone screamed at the back of the cabin as the plane shuddered. The next twenty minutes were pure hell. Everyone looked well frescoed out as the plane bounced around in the air, even the air hostesses looked worried – one sat in a seat behind us and we could hear her swearing under her breath.

  Izzie leaned forward from the seat behind. ‘Hold hands,’ she insisted. Izzie, Nesta, TJ and I grabbed hands and encouraged each other to stay calm. Izzie suggested begging or praying. TJ suggested song lyrics for plane crashes, like Ah, ah, ah, staying alive. All I could think was Please God, let us land safely, and please let me see my mum and dad, brothers and Tony. Please, please let me see Tony again.

  The sun was shining, cold and bright and Andrea was waiting for me at the train station with Rob and Hannah by the ticket desk as we’d arranged. Just what the doctor ordered, I thought as she linked her arm through mine. She looked good in a three-quarter-length velvet coat, skinny jeans and long blond hair flowing loose past her shoulders. I noticed a couple of guys checking her out, but she only had eyes for me. We caught a bus to her house so that I could dump my stuff and, once there, I saw that it was understood that I’d be sharing with her because Rob was in with Hannah in the spare room. Can do, I thought as I left my stuff on Andrea’s bedroom floor next to the sleeping bag that had been laid out for me, not that I thought I’d be actually sleeping in it, judging by the flirty glance
s that Andrea had been giving me. The house wasn’t far out of town, a big place, detached in acres of garden, and the venue where the music was happening was a stone’s throw away. All very comfy cosy.

  The gig was rocking when we got there, three floors with a few different bands in what used to be a textile warehouse but was now empty apart from events like this. The rest of the day passed in a pleasant haze of music. We drifted around like everyone else, going from room to room listening to who was on, eating whatever took our fancy from the stalls located in various corridors which sold all sorts – from berry smoothies and alfalfa sprout salads to greasy burgers and chips. It felt great to be away from my books, chilling with a top-looking girl on my arm. Some of the bands in the smaller rooms were dire, but the act on the main stage on the ground floor was the business. Circle of Five topped the bill and the lead singer was a brilliant performer, dancing between three mikes and giving it his all vocally. After they’d finished, we had a few drinks at the bar then made our way back to Andrea’s place.

  ‘Um. I’m going to keep some clothes on,’ I said as I snuggled down into the sleeping bag. It was a chilly night and the house was cold after the heating had gone off. It wasn’t long before Andrea had snuggled in besides me. I knew she would – either that or she’d invite me into her bed, but the floor was fine by me. I obliged by cuddling her back. After having held myself back with Lucy, I was well ready for a girl who wasn’t going to change her mind at the last minute, and, from the signals Andrea had been giving me all day, it was party time. We kissed and fooled around for a while and she began to nuzzle into my neck and . . . I just couldn’t get into it. I tried again. It felt flat. She felt wrong. She smelled wrong and although there was nothing actually wrong with her and her perfume was OK, it was just . . . How does that song go? I asked myself. Dad’s always playing it . . . by some old geezer? ‘Though your lips are lovely, they’re the wrong lips.’ I wanted Lucy. Lucy’s lips. She’d got me. Even at thousands of miles away I could feel her pulling me. What I had with her was for real.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Andrea.

  I gently pushed her away.

  ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ I said.

  She sighed. ‘That old line.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. Just . . . I’ve been involved with someone lately and . . . this just doesn’t seem right.’

  ‘Am I hearing right? The love meister’s in love?’ she asked, then laughed. ‘Don’t think I don’t know your reputation. You never stay with one girl for long.’

  ‘So many girls, so little time,’ I quoted one of my favourite lines.

  ‘So why not you and me?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be fair on you, Andrea. And I do like you, I really do . . .’

  ‘Just you like this other girl more,’ she finished for me.

  I paused a minute. I hadn’t even realised myself. ‘I guess I do,’ I said.

  Andrea snuggled in again and gave me a hug. ‘She’s a lucky girl then whoever she is,’ she said, then she crawled out of the bag and into her own bed. ‘Night, Costello.’

  ‘Night, Morton,’ I replied. ‘Bad timing, hey?’

  ‘Sure,’ she said.

  She was cool. Shame. So many girls, only one for me. As I fell asleep, I decided that it wasn’t over with Lucy and I. Not by a long shot. I wasn’t going to admit defeat just because of a photo of some bloke she had only just met over in Italy.

  A few days later, I arrived at the airport half an hour before Lucy’s plane came in to land. I browsed the shops looking for the best flowers then finally settled for two dozen white roses. I had a cup of coffee then, flowers in hand, I went to stand near the arrival doors. As I was making my way there, two blonde girls spotted me.

  ‘And what have you done, you naughty boy?’ asked one with a cheeky grin.

  The other linked her arm through mine. ‘Never mind her. Are those for me?’

  I grinned at both of them. ‘I haven’t done anything, I’ve been a good boy —’

  ‘Yeah right,’ said the taller of the two.

  I smiled again. ‘Honest.’

  The arrival board said that the flight from Florence had landed so I positioned myself near the doors where she would be able to see me when she came through. As I waited, I felt a sudden flood of doubts. You idiot, said a voice in my head. She may have another boyfriend by now – the one in the photo. What if he’s with her? What if he was on the same flight? How’s it going to look? Me standing here like a dodo with a bunch of flowers. She might think I am a total loser. Maybe I should go now before I make a fool of myself.

  The doors opened and people began to come through: an old man, a young couple, a girl in black – very Italian sophisticated – then I spotted someone from Lucy’s school, then a bunch of them, then there she was – Lucy. She was pushing a trolley and talking to Izzie, Nesta and TJ were behind. Phew, no sign of the blond boy, I thought. I felt myself beginning to grin from ear to ear when the girls looked over. I put the flowers up so they couldn’t see my face then peeked through. They were all staring and then Lucy realised that it was me. I needn’t have worried about her reaction. She abandoned the trolley, ran over and literally leaped at me. She hugged me with tears in her eyes.

  ‘Wow, so you missed me, huh?’ I asked.

  ‘No. Crap flight,’ she said. ‘Really crap flight. God, it’s so good to see you. It’s so good to be on the ground. I thought I might never see you again.’

  I laughed. She missed me all right.

  Seconds later, Nesta came and flung herself at me too. ‘Ohmigod, Tony. We almost di-ed. It was the worst moment of our whole lives.’

  By this time, TJ and Izzie had caught up and joined in the group hug too. ‘We’re so glad to be on the land,’ said TJ. ‘I swear, everyone got off that flight with their hair standing on end like Marge Simpson, it was so freaky out there.’

  Izzie giggled. ‘We were so frescoed out.’

  And then they all started giggling, then hugged me again.

  At that moment, the two blonde girls who had commented earlier on the flowers walked past.

  ‘Hey, naughty boy,’ the tall one called. ‘You’re popular. What is it? Your aftershave?’

  I grinned over at them. ‘Just natural charisma, darling, some of us got it, some of us ain’t.’

  The group hug at the airport with Tony didn’t last long because Mrs Elwes, our art teacher, came through the arrival doors soon after and ushered us girls on to the coach. We all pleaded for Tony to be able to come too and when she realised that he was Nesta’s brother, she relented. It was hysterical. He was totally in his element to be surrounded by so many girls and of course, they were all checking him out and looking well impressed. I felt so chuffed that he was so clearly with me because as soon as we were all on the coach, he beckoned me to go and sit with him at the back.

  ‘Missed you, Lovering,’ he said as he put his arm around me and gave me the lightest of kisses on my lips.

  ‘Me too,’ I said, though it was a lie. I hadn’t exactly missed him until I thought that the plane was going down because there was so much happening and of course Teddy had been a major distraction. ‘How was the weekend in Brighton?’

  ‘How did you know about that?’

  ‘Nesta. Think your mum told her where you were when she called home one night.’

  He took my hands and we linked fingers. ‘Brighton? Hmm. Interesting,’ he said and gave me an enigmatic smile. I wasn’t going to ask. I knew he had been with a girl. ‘And how was Florence?’

  ‘Hmm. Also interesting,’ I replied and gave him what I hoped was an enigmatic smile back. Two can play at that game, I thought. He grinned back at me because he knew I’d got him. We didn’t get much chance to talk after that because Mrs Elwes had clocked that we were at the back on our own, so she called Nesta to go and sit with us. She came to join us, along with Izzie and TJ, and we spent the rest of the coach ride filling him in on the sights we’d been to see. He held my hand all
the time though.

  Mum was waiting to collect Izzie and I once we’d got back to the school, and Nesta’s dad was waiting for her. He seemed surprised to see Tony there with us. We unloaded our cases and bags and as everyone dispersed, Tony pulled me aside.

  ‘Catch you later?’ he asked. ‘Call me when you’ve settled in.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Wow, what’s come over him?’ asked Izzie. ‘He’s come over all Mr Keen.’

  And Mr Keen he was. He turned up just after supper. I hadn’t called him because I was feeling queasy and had gone up to bed early. It might have been due to the landing, but it might also have been due to a bout of food poisoning that I’d had in Florence.

  Tony sat on the end of my bed.

  ‘It’s not catching,’ I said. ‘I think it was a dodgy prawn I had in Italy.’

  Tony nodded. ‘Ah yes, for we are all prawns in the chess game of life, are we not?’

  ‘Very funny,’ I said. ‘Prawns in the cocktail of life.’

  We sat in an amiable silence for a while then Tony got up and began to pace the room. ‘So, Lovering. What next?’ He pointed at himself then at me.

  ‘I thought we’d agreed: friends,’ I said.

  Tony grimaced. ‘What if I wanted more?’ he began.

  I pulled the duvet up to my neck and put on a prissy girlie voice. ‘But that’s aways the probwem, you are a naughty naughty boy and I am a chaste ickle girl.’

  Tony smiled and came and lay next to me. I shoved him off and he landed on the floor with a thump.

  ‘Some girls would love to have me on their bed,’ he said.

  ‘And in it,’ I replied and then I realised that he had been serious. He was saying that he wanted us to get back together. I wasn’t ready. I still wasn’t ready. Not to go further in the bedroom department and I knew it wasn’t really feasible to have him as a steady boyfriend again. It would be a step back and I was sure the same old stuff would come up again. Now that we’d been down on land for a few hours, my earlier resolve had returned and I knew that I didn’t want things to go back to how they were.