by Isobel Hart
“I don’t think so,” I said with a laugh. “Anyway, I won’t want them.”
“Won’t you?”
“I don’t think so, no,” I said. He rested his forehead against mine.
“Hardy?” Clarissa’s voice, closer now, was an unwelcome intrusion. He flinched and took a step away from me, and it hurt to see him do so after what he’d just said.
“In here,” he called. She appeared round the corner, suspicious to find the pair of us alone. She was right to be.
“What are you doing… here…with her?” She couldn’t have made the ‘her’ sound more of an insult if she’d tried.
“Give it a rest, Clarissa, it’s family business. Nothing to do with you.” He marched past her, leaving the two of us alone together.
She looked at me for a moment then circled me while I just stood there, hoping she’d lose interest and go. I wished I’d never allowed Emily to persuade me to come to this party.
“You’re pretty, I’ll give you that,” she finally said, “but cheap. It’ll never be enough for him. He might tell you he wants you, but he just wants to have you – then he’ll dump you, like all the others. Do everyone a favour and stay away. Keep your slutty little baby claws off of him. Mine are a lot sharper. You really don’t want to take me on, not if you know what’s good for you. You seem to have snagged Charles’ interest, so make do with that. That is unless you want me to destroy you?”
I laughed, mainly because she sounded so fantastically sinister. Like a Cambridgeshire version of a Bond villain. I half expected her to fall about laughing too. But she didn’t. Instead my laughter incensed her further, and she slapped me hard across the cheek. Stunned, I lifted my hand to touch the tender area and winced as she spun on her designer heel and marched away. No one had ever hit me – ever. I didn’t like it one bit.
Chapter 6
I returned to the pool and spent the rest of the afternoon lying on a sunbed on my own. I ignored every offer of company made to me, including Charles and Emily. Emily didn’t really try, happy to be dragged quickly away by one of her male admirers. Charles was the most persistent, but eventually even he gave up. I could have sworn I heard him say ‘fucking Hardy Somerville’ under his breath as he left.
I was miserable and wanted to go home. I contemplated calling Ma to come and get me.
“Come on,” Emily’s excited voice broke into my thoughts as the sun began to wane. “We need to get showered and changed before dinner. There’s going to be a massive barbecue. They all want you to play and sing again.”
“I don’t know. I’m not in the mood.”
“Oh for god’s sake, snap out of it. You could have your pick of the guys here, and yet you’re moping around like someone just died. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you. Hardy Somerville’s no better, apparently. You should hear Clarissa bitching about him and his bad mood.” She looked at me, noticing the spike in my interest at the mention of his name. “Hey, did something happen between you two?”
“No,” I said defensively. She just smirked. “Look, I told you, I’m not interested in any of them. I’m only at this party because you insisted I’d ruin your life if I didn’t come. These people are not our friends. They’d trample their own grannies if they thought there was something good at the other end. I don’t know what you like about them.”
“Look around,” Emily said. I looked over at the pool and the house beyond. It was an idyllic setting. “I want this life,” she continued. “I don’t want to be like my mum and dad, doing a shit job for shit pay just to scrape by, never having enough for holidays or extras. I want money, and I don’t care how I get it. These guys have loads,” she said, nodding over at the gaggle of guys who still remained round the pool. “I want some of it spent on me. Who knows, maybe one day one of them will decide he can’t live without me, but either way I don’t really care as long as I get treated nicely.” I couldn’t hide my shock. “Always so holier than thou, Delilah. Well, grow up. Life’s not all fairy tales, you know.” She didn’t have to tell me that – I knew firsthand. It didn’t mean I wasn’t still shocked at her ‘money at any cost’ mentality. “So anyway, I need you tonight. They want your little performance again. After that you can do whatever you like – call your mum to come and get you, or go to bed – whatever you want. Until then I need you to hurry your virgin white arse upstairs and get dressed. I have a man to snag, and I need you to help me make it happen.”
*
An hour later I was dressed, sitting on the bed waiting for Emily to finish her make-up. I’d picked another maxi dress, black this time and slightly more fitted over the bust. I’d borrowed the denim jacket again and my hair was loose around my shoulders. I watched as Emily put smoky make-up around her eyes, making the pretty blue pop. It was amazing… she was really quite talented at it. “Will you do that for me one day?” I asked. It was the first exchange we’d had since she’d revealed her dastardly master plan. She looked at me through the mirror, and I saw her face soften a bit.
“Sure. But you don’t really need it with your freaky long eyelashes. Some of us have to make a bit more effort to scrub up okay.”
“I need it,” I argued.
“Sure,” she said again. She added some lip gloss and pulled on her own dress; it was a sheer pink number that was, for once, quite decent, merely suggesting at what lay beneath rather than trumpeting it.
“You look lovely,” I said, and meant it.
“You look like a rock chick, with all that dark hair and denim. Charles is going to blow his load when he gets a look at you. Charles Taylor…” She whistled. “I didn’t know you had it in you. The boys at school always said you were too geeky… too thin. They thought you were kind of ugly. What happened to you this summer?” she asked, sounding irritated. “You seem to have blossomed. It’s like you don’t even have to try to get the boys to look at you now.”
“Who do you like?” I asked, determined to get her attention off me.
“Well, given between you and Clarissa the two best guys are already taken, I quite like Jamie.”
“Was he the one you were on the shoulders of in the pool?”
“Yeah. He’s fit. Nice body. He’s a rower – planning to go to Cambridge next term. He’s minted from what he was saying about the holidays he goes on.” The poor guy didn’t stand a chance, I thought. “Shall we go?” Emily asked. The mood between us was still a little awkward. I got the feeling that me getting the attention she sought was not in her plan, and it annoyed her, no matter how much I assured her I wasn’t looking for it. “Don’t forget the guitar,” she reminded me. I grabbed it from the bed and followed her down the stairs.
The smell of roasting meat wafted towards us as we approached the pool area. A huge barbecue had been set up, and in addition there was a whole baby pig on a spit roast. These guys sure liked their meat – there was enough being cooked to feed a small army. The beers were flowing, and several people already looked the worse for wear after what they’d put away this afternoon. I had a feeling the night was going to get messy.
The evening was drawing in, and a rosy hue lit the sky promising more fine weather the next day. Charles was directing people to build a bonfire. “Delilah, can you help me get some more wood?” I heard a voice behind me ask. It was Hardy.
“Sure,” I said with a shrug. I put my guitar down and followed him through the garden until we reached a barn. Inside there was a log pile big enough to keep them going for about the next ten years.
“Mind out for spiders,” he warned me.
“I’m not bothered by them,” I told him, reaching for some logs.
“Here, let me load you up,” he said. “Put your arms out.” I did as he asked, and he began layering logs into my arms. “Let me know when it gets too heavy,” he instructed. I nodded, silenced by the dizzying effect of his presence. “You’re strong,” he remarked when my arms were full of logs and I’d still not said anything. He began to grab some logs of his own to car
ry back. “You always were a tough little thing.” He smiled, looking at me. “I remember when you fell off that swing and bashed your eye; you never made a peep. Keep your arms up, so you don’t drop them,” he said, looking at the logs tilting in my arms as I lost focus on my task, caught up in the tractor beam of his gaze.
“And I remember you were always bossy. Always telling me what to do,” I bit back, embarrassed. He grinned, and I smiled back, feeling a warm glow when I saw he still had those dimples. “It’s still there,” I said.
“What is?”
“The treehouse. It’s still there. I spent hours in there playing the guitar. I still do. The trapeze bust a few years ago, though. I never got around to fixing it.”
“I can’t believe it’s still standing,” he said with a laugh as we turned and walked back up to the designated bonfire area. “And I can’t believe you didn’t break your neck on that trapeze. I worried about that for years.” We were both laughing when we reached the others.
“Delilah, I think you’re carrying more than Hardy,” Charles said as soon as he saw us. He walked over and took some of the logs from my arms. “He’s not much of a gentleman, letting you get covered in shit like that,” he said when all the logs were in a pile. He reached out and gently brushed some of the cobwebs from my dress.
“Oh, I’m not bothered. I’m not much of a lady, anyway,” I said. And then I blushed as I realised how it sounded. “I mean…”
“It’s okay, Delilah, we know what you meant,” Hardy said with a laugh. Even Charles was smiling at me, and I grinned back.
They escorted me over to where the burgers were beginning to be dished out. It was quite a production line. Both Charles and Hardy worried over me, making sure I had enough to eat before filling their own plates and seeing me settled on a chair beside the slowly building fire. It was nice. Comfortable. For once it didn’t feel competitive between them. I liked listening to the banter they had, teasing each other about some rugby match they’d played recently. Then Charles started teasing Hardy about Clarissa. “What about you, Delilah, have you got a boyfriend?” Although it was Charles who asked, I could tell by the intensity of Hardy’s gaze that he was just as keen to hear the answer.
“No.” I was embarrassed to admit just how sheltered my life had been up until now.
“I find that hard to believe,” Charles prodded. “A girl like you. They must be all over you at school.” Hardy frowned.
“Don’t be silly.” I said, blushing. “I’m the weird one. Too into music. Too tall and skinny. Just about everyone steers clear.”
“Wow,” Charles replied, looking genuinely amazed. “They must be blind as well as stupid if they can’t see what’s right in front of them now. You’re going to be a stunner in my opinion…” I began to protest, but he stopped me. “Seriously, Delilah, believe me, I’m quite an expert on the female form.” That made me smile. “Ignore the fools at your school. I’ve got a feeling you’re destined for great things.” It was sweet, and he seemed earnest, so I smiled again appreciatively at him. Then I caught sight of Hardy’s face. He was scowling at us, and my smile dropped. “How about some music now?” Charles asked, oblivious to his friend’s feelings. I nodded and moved to where I’d left my guitar, carefully removing it from its case when I sat back down and started to tune it.
“You don’t need the tuner now?” Hardy asked.
I smiled, remembering his gift all those years ago. I was glad to see his expression was softer again as he watched me prepare to sing. “No, I can manage by ear most of the time now, unless I’m playing with other people.”
“Tuner?” Charles asked.
“It’s Hardy I have to thank for being able to play the guitar at all. He bought me my first guitar for my birthday when I was eight. Made me promise to get good at playing it. Gave me a tuner too, and I used it for years.”
“You did us all a favour, man,” Charles said, giving him a quick smile.
Hardy never stopped watching me. I could feel his eyes upon me the whole time, even when Clarissa arrived and planted herself on his lap. She looked over and scowled at me.
“What are you going to play?” Charles asked.
“I don’t know. What do you want? I can play most things if I’ve heard them, but I might not know all the lyrics. I’m happy to take requests.”
“How about you sing something that means something to you?” Charles suggested. I was stumped for a moment and then thought of the perfect song.
“Okay.” I reached for my water and took a sip before closing my eyes and starting to strum the opening chords for Jessie J’s ‘Who You Are’. The song had meant a lot to me when I first heard it. I’d been at a particularly low point at school, and I was blown away to hear lyrics that described the way I felt. It had given me hope that things could get better, and I’d immediately spent the next week learning how to play it. I’d never played it in front of anyone else, though. Hell, apart from the party the previous weekend, I’d never played much in front of any audience besides Mr Morgan and Emily. Once again I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall into the music.
My voice rang out in the evening air, the chatter around me quieting before I reached the middle of the first verse. I soared easily into the chorus, the words now pouring from me like a prayer as I allowed all my insecurities and loneliness to shade the music. I knew I was baring my soul. I also knew I was doing it for Hardy. It was the only way I could show him how I’d felt all those years. When I finished the last chorus and strummed the final chords I finally opened my eyes. The applause was instant and loud. The whole party seemed to have gathered round to listen, and I couldn’t take in all the praise as they threw it at me. It was Hardy I looked at. His gaze was on me, his face stunned, his eyes bright. When he saw me looking he turned away, embarrassed. I thought I saw him lift a hand to brush something from his cheek, and I wondered if I’d imagined it until I saw Clarissa scowl and whisper angrily in his ear before she stood up and strode into the house.
“That was great, Delilah,” Charles said, pulling my attention away from Hardy and Clarissa. “Seriously, I think you could be a professional singer if you wanted to.” He sounded genuinely excited, as if he’d discovered me or something. It was a sweet thing to say, and I smiled. ”Sing something else,” he pleaded as several others joined in.
I looked over at Hardy again. He hadn’t turned back to look at me since I’d seen him rub at his eyes. I wanted his attention on me, especially now Clarissa had left. Without thinking I started to play ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ by Simon and Garfunkel. It sounded better with someone else on harmony, I knew, but I was singing it for a reason. It had been our song. The one he had asked me to sing every day that summer. Whatever else I sang, he’d always wanted that one. I’d convinced myself he’d thought the words were about us, that he intended to be my bridge over troubled water. But then he hadn’t come back, and I’d had to let the dream go.
The lyrics were beautiful. For once I kept my eyes open because I wanted to see what he did. As I’d hoped he would, his face swung to mine the moment I began, his eyes raw with emotion. He held my gaze as I sang about someone who would always protect, always support, always be there. In the end it was too much, and he stood abruptly and walked away. I watched as he vanished in the same direction as Clarissa while I sang the last notes. Again the applause was instantaneous, but Hardy’s reaction had meant more.
“This is all getting a bit heavy,” Charles said, with a quick glance in the direction Hardy had taken. I grabbed my water and took a swig before starting the Carly Rae Jepsen song ‘Call Me Maybe’. It had been a massive hit recently. Emily had insisted I learn it, although personally I loathed it, and as the party joined in with the chorus I was glad I had. No one could ever call it heavy, but given the massive grin on Charles’ face I worried he’d read more into the lyrics than I’d intended. When I finished he leaned over while the crowd applauded and told me there was no way he’d be losing my number. I smil
ed awkwardly and excused myself to go to the bathroom, slipping off into the house.
When I entered the hallway I could hear shouting coming from somewhere within the house. It was hard not to listen, although I felt guilty for doing it, as I stood there in the darkness. Not guilty enough not to, though.
“I can’t believe you’d humiliate me like this,” I heard a girl say. It sounded like Clarissa. “Dumping me at a party.”
“I’m not dumping you. We were never that serious.” I recognised Hardy’s voice and felt my heart beat faster.
“You know you don’t mean it. We’re good together. You still want me.” The voices stopped, and I could only imagine what she was doing to persuade him to change his mind.
“Clarissa, I mean it. No.”
“You can’t mean to do this now… here. In front of all our friends,” I heard Clarissa shriek.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but we were always only casual. You knew that – we discussed it. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend.”
“It’s her, isn’t it? You want the little singer. You and Charles are scrapping over her like two dogs over a bone. It’s pathetic.”
“She has nothing to do with this,” I heard Hardy say, but it didn’t sound sincere, even to me. The warm glow in my chest blossomed at the thought he wanted to be with me. It lasted until another voice broke into my happy thoughts.
“Delilah?” It was Charles.
Chapter 7
He stepped through the doorway. “There you are,” he said with a smile when he saw me. “Hey, are you okay? You look a bit flushed. Why are you lurking here in the dark?”
“I’m just a bit freaked,” I improvised. “I got lost looking for the bathroom. It frightened me a bit. Your house is too big.”
He smiled. “Come on, your fans are asking for you,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me back outside. I felt bad about holding his hand after what I’d just heard Hardy say, and pulled away as soon as I was able, pulling my guitar onto my lap as the excuse for letting go.