Just a Girl, Standing in Front of a Boy

by Lucy-Anne Holmes

  ‘I love a theory.’

  ‘Of course you do, because I do too.’

  ‘Tell me this theory,’ I say, turning in my seat slightly so I can look at him.

  ‘Well, I think we’re made for each other. I think the universe, God, the powers of fate or whatever is at work, made us for each other, and we had to go on our own paths and then, when we least expected it, we had to meet. Even though you were engaged to someone else, and I was working in a chemist in a small town in Tiddlesbury because I’d come to avoid distractions and stay with my uncle in the ramshackle cottage that he’d just bought and write an album. So, we had to meet. And the universe, fate, blah blah whatever didn’t want us to miss each other, so they had us wearing the same clothes, you know, so we’d pay attention, and they had you on your knees singing a rock classic. We were made the same right down to the silly names so that there’d be no doubt that we were meant to be together when we met.’

  He stops speaking and I can tell he’s pleased with his theory.

  ‘What?’ he asks.

  ‘I didn’t say anything,’ I whisper. ‘I’m too busy smiling.’

  ‘Tell me everything about yourself.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell.’

  ‘Ah, well, there’s no rush. You’ve got the rest of your life to tell me.’

  I look at him and he winks. I laugh, but then I stop laughing.

  ‘There is one thing I have to tell you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I slept with Al, the other night. I don’t know why I’m telling you except I suppose I don’t really like secrets.’

  ‘I know about you and Al.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He told me.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘He felt bad because he thought we liked each other.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Yeah, I like Al, brilliant bloke.’

  ‘Hmm. We had a thing before Matt, and I think we were just putting it to bed.’

  ‘Literally.’

  ‘Yeah. But I just don’t want you to think I’m a slut. I’m not a slut. Well, Matt thinks I am. But can you be a slut if you’ve only slept with three people and one of them did it for a dare? Do you think less of me?’

  ‘Nooo, Fanny. Even if you’d slept with a hundred people I’d still think you were the most awesome woman on the planet. We’ve both got stories and histories, that’s life.’

  ‘I think you’re letting me off quite lightly. I mean I slept with my flatmate when I was engaged to someone else and daydreaming about you.’

  ‘Well.’ He laughs. ‘I was a bit surprised when Al called me and told me. I don’t know what I thought he was going to say but I definitely wasn’t expecting that. But do you know what, Fan, I tell you honestly. I got off the phone and laughed. One thing you’re not is dull. I admit, part of my male pride wished you’d been confused and jumped into bed with me. But I sort of just loved the impetuousness of it and I love your honesty now. Jenny Taylor, I’m not playing very hard to get. I need to work on that. I need to be a bit harder to read.’

  I smile.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I didn’t say anything. I’m too busy smiling. Where are we?’

  ‘Ah, do you not know my secret spot?’

  ‘That could be misconstrued.’

  ‘Cheeky.’

  ‘How can you have a secret spot when you’ve only just moved here?’

  ‘Have van will find secret spot so can sit underneath tree and write songs about girl with pink hair. What colour is your hair naturally?’

  ‘Same as yours.’

  ‘Of course.’ He parks. I go to open my door.

  ‘Wait! Wait! I do that.’ And he hops out of the car and races round to my side to open the door. ‘Madam,’ he says, giving me his arm to help me get up. ‘I just need to get some bits from the boot.’

  He trots away and reappears with a guitar strapped to his back and holding a cool box.

  ‘Can I take something?’

  ‘Nope, the lady goes hands free,’ he says as though he’s knackered and it’s heavy. ‘I can manage.’

  We walk along a tiny path, squeeze through a gap between two hedges and then make our way past some trees and suddenly we’re in front of a lake. It’s not a huge lake and it’s overgrown on all sides, but there’s not a soul around and it’s so peaceful. There is no sign of man or anything man-made. It feels as though we’ve stepped back in time.

  ‘How did you find it?’ I ask.

  ‘I saw it on a map of the area. I miss the sea. I normally live by the sea. And I like a bit of water. It’s calming.’

  ‘My mum likes being by the sea.’

  ‘Yeah, there’s something powerful about standing on the edge of the land.’

  ‘On the Edge of the Land. You could call your album that.’

  ‘Bloody hell, I may just do that. It sort of perfectly sums up how I’m feeling at the moment.’

  I was thinking the same thing.

  ‘Although the working title I’m using at the moment is…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘No, can’t tell you, need to play it cooler. So, anyway, I saw on the map that there was a lake here, I thought it would probably be used for fishing. It took me a few trips to find. But I persevered and one day here she was. And I’ve never seen anyone else here, which strikes me as a bit odd, so we might be attacked by dogs or shot at by snipers. For which I apologise profusely.’

  ‘How can you tell if it’s safe to swim in a lake?’

  ‘I think you have to swim in it and see if you die.’

  I turn my head to look at him.

  ‘Shall we?’ he says as if reading my mind.

  I nod.

  He unbuttons his shirt. I can’t take my eyes off him. I kick my sandals off. He takes his shorts off. He’s just down to his black pants. I toss my hat off and pull my dress over my head. I stand in front of him in just my white pants and strapless bra.

  ‘Jenny Taylor, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.’

  ‘Joe King, I think I’ve…’ Been in love with you since I first set eyes on you. But I don’t say it. I run and I make a bomb into the water instead. When I come up, he’s still on the land.

  ‘What’s it like?’ he asks stepping nearer.

  ‘Ah, ah! Eels,’ I shriek, flinging my arms about.

  ‘Oh, my God, are you all right?’ he pants, hopping toward me through the reeds.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine, I was just doing some incredibly good acting,’ I say, standing up, so just the tops of my shoulders are out of the water.

  Joe wades out to where I am. He stops and stands gazing at me.

  ‘I would just like to say,’ he says, stopping and looking up at the blue sky for a moment. ‘God, universe, whatever is at work here, I would just like to say, thank you.’

  I smile at him.

  ‘Do we wait to kiss or do we kiss now?’ he whispers.

  ‘Let’s wait,’ I whisper back.

  He nods.

  ‘For five minutes,’ I instruct.

  ‘I don’t know whether I can.’ He makes an ‘eek’ face.

  ‘Me neither,’ I whisper.

  ‘Shall I time it on my waterproof watch?’

  I nod.

  And we look at each other for five minutes. We just look into each other’s eyes and listen to each other breathing, and you’d think it would be rubbish, but it’s glorious and sexy and as though we’re merging into one, somehow.

  ‘That’s actually five minutes and thirteen seconds,’ he says eventually. And he steps forward and cups my face in his hands. At first he kisses my forehead, so softly, then my cheeks, then he tilts my face ever so slightly, so his mouth is near mine. And I can’t tell which is his heart or mine or whose breath is whose, and then his lips touch mine and I feel like I’m spinning. I cling onto his back, his shoulders, his hair.

  We stand and kiss, until our skin starts to feel like dried fruit and we begin to shiver. He takes my hand a
nd leads me out of the water.

  We stop for a moment, there, on the edge of the land, with the sun warming our skin. Joe starts to fidget, he moves some of my sodden hair away from my eyes, he’s murmuring words, but he’s not looking at me. I can’t catch what it is he’s saying.

  ‘What was that?’ I whisper.

  ‘I was just telling you the working title of my album, it’s…’ He stops, looks straight into my eyes. ‘It’s Love at First Sight.’

  Chapter 48

  Mother’s still not home! I’ve been trying to be cool, I really have. I know she needs her independence. I know I can’t keep her close to me all the time. And, yes, I know, as Philippa says, that she has needs. I texted Simon the Plasterer three times, he told me she was safe. But then I thought, Of course, he’s going to tell you she’s safe, Fanny, you tool, while he’s ripping up his kitchen floor and burying your mother there. So then I called and asked, well, he said demanded, but I think I was polite but firm, that he put Mum on the phone. And Mum did sound fine, a little sleepy, because it was 8 a.m., but I’m not going to feel bad, it was the second night she’d stayed out. So I spoke to her to arrange the plan for the funeral ambush (her words), but she said she didn’t want to help with the funeral today.

  ‘I just don’t think I can handle a whole day to do with death, Jenny,’ she said. And I sort of get her point. She’s menopausal and emotional so she’d probably be a blubbing mess, and she’s done so much work already, organising today, that I couldn’t bring myself to persuade her. Still it feels like quite a lot of pressure on me now. Al can’t take today as a holiday from work. Philippa only has a few hours off to sort out the golf club presentation. So I’ll be setting up the entire community centre on my own. It is doable. I hope. I’ll just miss Mum, that’s all. I’ve been really enjoying hanging out with my mum recently. I feel as though we’ve become a little army of two. I never imagined we’d have this friendship. It’s like receiving the best present and it’s not even my birthday or Christmas. And obviously I want her to be here right now so I can tell her all about the most wonderful man in the universe. Mr Love At First Sight. Ooh, talk of the handsome devil. A text!

  I think you said you had some time off work. Would you like to practise kissing today? Xx

  I’m ambushing a funeral. Would you like to come? Xx

  Did I just read what I thought I read?

  We can practise kissing there.

  I love kissing at funerals. When do I pick you up?

  Half ten.

  That’s in 20 mins!

  And can you dress as though you’re someone from the movie Grease.

  You what?

  Very important. A dying woman’s wishes. Think tight black T-shirt and trousers like Danny wears at the end. Sexy… Xx

  Will you be in the black catsuit? xx

  Might be.

  Is it right to be this excited about a funeral?

  Chapter 49

  ‘You’re the one that I want,’ Joe sings, as he Blu-Tacks a Doris picture to the wall.

  I had to ring round all the patients I knew who had been friends with Doris to find the pictures, then Mum took them to Snappy Snaps in Nunstone and had them blown up. I think we did well. One lady knew Doris from the sixties and gave us a lovely photo of her in a minidress eating an ice cream in Brighton. Mum got some extras of that one. She said, ‘I made the executive decision that she’d want to be remembered like this, young and smiling, so had a few more done and then I saw the offer they were doing on the personalised badges!’ Mum couldn’t believe the offer on the badges so now we’ve two hundred Doris badges with this picture on as well.

  ‘You better shape up!’ I sing, well, sing-ish. I walk around the food table, checking we’ve got everything. ‘Right, what’s the time? Could you look at your waterproof watch?’

  ‘Shall I just kiss you first? It’s the blonde wig. It’s getting me going.’

  Well, it’s impossible to do Sandy with raspberry hair, you can only do Frenchie, and no one chooses to go to a Grease party as Frenchie, so I’m wearing my blonde wig. I love a wig and I’m very excited that Joe King does too.

  ‘Yes, I thought you’d never ask, it’s been about four minutes since you last kissed me.’

  ‘It’s quite hard to control myself for four minutes with you in that catsuit.’

  He walks across the empty community centre dance floor, kicking some balloons out of the way as he goes. He reaches me and we stand smiling at each other.

  ‘I think I’ve spent my whole life waiting for your smile,’ he whispers and then he puts his lips on mine. ‘Hmmm,’ he says. ‘Was that a bit cheesy? You’re making me very cheesy, Jenny Taylor.’

  We kiss some more.

  ‘I think you’re a little bit more handsome than you were four minutes ago,’ I whisper, because I have completely turned into a tool. I speak a load of tosh and most of the time I speak it as though I am five. ‘Ooh, what time did you say it was?’

  ‘Um, um, half past one.’

  ‘I think we’ve done everything we can for now. The Rod Stewart impersonator should be here at two.’

  ‘You’ve got a Rod Stewart impersonator coming?’

  ‘Yep, every good funeral should have one. And Doris loved him. Well, she loved the real thing but we couldn’t get him. We did try.’

  ‘That I am looking forward to seeing.’

  ‘Ah, well, we won’t see him. We have to go now.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Dunno. Wherever you want?’

  ‘But you’ve organised this, aren’t you going to stay?’

  I shake my head. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why? I think Doris would want you to be here.’

  ‘Ah well, yes, she would. But… Hmm… It’s complicated.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘I’ve been asked to steer clear of the family. They’re hoping to sue the surgery.’

  ‘But you were so close to her…’

  ‘Wait, it gets even more complicated. Doris’ grandson broke my heart when I was seventeen and as if that wasn’t enough, he married the girl in my year who used to bully me.’

  ‘Oh, baby, come here.’

  He holds me.

  ‘If you want to face them, I’d hold your hand.’

  I love that he said that. But…

  ‘Ah, well, it’s not so much a question of me getting the courage to face them now, as me not wanting to get thumped. You see, the thing is, they’ve booked a tea at the golf club. They think the reception is going to be at the golf club. But Doris couldn’t stand the golf club and she wanted a full-on boozy bash, and I did tell them but there was a non-refundable deposit on the sodding golf club and they wouldn’t change it. So Philippa had to chat up a guy who works on the bar there and pretend she was a relative, and, anyway, when everyone gets there they’re going to play a video of Doris talking about the big bash she planned. Then Philippa will tell them all to come here. Hence the ambush.’

  ‘Wow. Yeah, that was complicated.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Wow,’ he says again, I can tell he’s trying to get it all straight in his head.

  ‘Hmmmm.’

  ‘It’s pretty massive what you’re doing,’ Joe whispers.

  ‘I know. Let’s just think positive.’

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ he says stroking my back. ‘It’ll be fine.’

  ‘Yeah, hopefully.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘No, I was wowing you that time.’

  ‘How do you mean?”

  ‘I didn’t think anyone as awesome as you existed, Jenny Taylor.’

  He kisses my nose. I can’t speak because I’m smiling.

  Chapter 50

  I’ve had only two texts from Philippa today. The first one said:

  Screen’s up. Video’s ready. Bar guy who’s 17 just asked if he could touch my boob!!!

  The second one said:

  Played video. Michelle KICKED OFF
… got to get back to work… they’re driving a RAGE Rover… watch out! Gd luck! xxx

  I got that fouteen minutes ago, and the first few cars are pulling up now. Joe’s inside, the Rod Stewart impersonator is late so he’s putting on a Rod Stewart CD to tide us over. I’m standing by Joe’s van in the far corner of the car park, watching in the wings. I lean my head against the cool bodywork and close my eyes for a moment.

  ‘Hey, Doris,’ I whisper. ‘I hope I did the right thing. I hope you enjoy your party.’

  When I open my eyes again Joe’s standing in the doorway of the community centre doing a drinking sign. I put my thumb up in response and shout the word champagne. He darts back inside. A man with long blonde hair, a lot of fake tan and a white suit gets out of an old Escort. Here’s Rod! He walks to his car boot and takes out some black equipment boxes. I look down the road and I can’t see a Range Rover so I dash quickly across the car park to help Rod with his equipment. Oo-er.

  ‘Hello, I think you spoke to my mum on the phone. I’m Fanny.’

  ‘Mick, pleased to meet you.’

  I try to take one of his bags.

  ‘No, you’re all right, love. Just lead the way.’

  He stands waiting for me to show him where to go. But I freeze. I’ve just spied a Range Rover driving too fast in this direction.

  ‘Oh, just go through those doors and you’ll see the stage. People should start arriving in a minute,’ I say, already jogging away from him.

  ‘Ah, hello there, mate,’ I hear Joe call out. ‘Come in here. Let’s take a bag off you.’

  I stand back against the van, catching my breath. I don’t know what to do. If I get in the van I might draw attention to myself. But then again if they look over here, I’ve nowhere to hide.

  The Range Rover parks very near the hall. Michelle Cullet flies out of the driver’s seat, slamming the door. She’s inside in seconds. Steve walks slowly round the back of the car and stops. He’s looking in this direction. I’m wearing a blonde wig and I’m dressed as Sandy from Grease, he might not know it’s me. God, he looks sad. He looks as though he can barely lift his limbs. I know that feeling. I could almost sympathise. He takes a step towards me, and then another. I used to love his face. During the entire time I was at secondary school, Steve Wilmot had his picture in the school magazine twice, once when he was fourteen and once when he was sixteen. I cut out both pictures and kept them under my bed. I knew his face so well. I wonder whether Michelle loves him as I would have loved him.