9781789543087 If I Can't Have You

by Federica Bosco

  Paul yawned and scratched his head while Mum busied herself taking a placemat and a napkin from the drawer. Then she filled a glass with orange juice, and placed the butter and jam neatly in front of it. Next thing you knew she’d be offering to pop to the shop for fresh croissants.

  ‘Have you got any croissants?’ Asked the man in his pants.

  ‘No, sorry. If you want I can pop to the shop and get some,’ Mum replied.

  ‘No, don’t worry... do you have sweeteners, though?’

  ‘Er no, we don’t use them.’ said Mum.

  I couldn’t resist. ‘I heard they make men grow boobs. There was a man in the paper who’d gone up to a C-cup before he realised what was doing it’

  ‘Really?’ He actually glanced down at his chest! ‘Maybe I’ll just have half a sugar.’

  What an idiot! It really was too easy.

  ‘Sorry, Mamma,’ I whispered as I walked past, picking up my bag and going out from the kitchen, ‘I did try! Really!’

  She swatted me on the bum and sang, ‘Mia loooves Ca-arl!’

  ‘Don’t! I take it back, it’s not worth it!’ I said, laughing and covering my ears.

  ‘Mia loooves Ca-arl!’ She kept on singing it until I left for school. Fair enough, I deserved it. Now for the difficult part: going to school and seeing Carl.

  Nina continued the inquisition where Mum had left off.

  ‘Well? How did it go?’ she whispered over to me during English.

  ‘Don’t you start! Mum was going on about it for the whole of breakfast.’

  ‘But I’m not your Mum, I’m your best friend and I need details!’ she insisted.

  ‘We kissed... I think.’

  ‘REALLY?’

  ‘Nina, what was I saying?’ asked Mrs Meyer.

  ‘That Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales are inspired by Boccaccio’s Decameron, and satirise the class structure of the Middle Ages,’ Nina concluded impeccably.

  ‘Very good, Nina,’ said Mrs Meyer, a little stricken.

  ‘How the hell did you do that?’ I hissed at her.

  ‘I don’t know, I just have this weird ability to follow two or three conversations at the same time,’ she answered with a shrug.’ Anyway, you were saying? We’d just got to the kissing scene.’

  ‘There wasn’t a ‘kissing scene’, it was just a quick thing before I got out of the car.’

  ‘Okay, let me guess: you went out for dinner, he was really nice to you and tried to make conversation, you answered in monosyllables and ate almost nothing, then you started yawning and he took you home, right? ‘

  ‘Am I really so predictable?’ I asked, frowning.

  ‘I know you too well!’ she grinned, ‘But tell me about the kiss!’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell. We parked in front of the house, said goodbye, and he kind of stroked my cheek and then leaned over and kissed me.’

  ‘With tongues?’

  ‘No, not with tongues!’ I burst out, far too loudly,

  ‘Mia, perhaps you can tell me what I was saying?’ Mrs Meyer asked asked wearily.

  Nina tried her best to help me out. ‘Say that Chaucer was first to write in the vernacular!’ she said out of the corner of her mouth.

  ‘That...Chaucer wrote in Cockney rhyming slang?’ I stammered.

  ‘That’s right, Mia. Knees Up Mother Brown is one of his finest works,’ Mrs Meyer concluded drily.

  The whole class burst out laughing.

  ‘Mia!’ Nina exclaimed, collapsing with her forehead on the desk in defeat.

  ‘I thought that was what that meant!’ I replied, discouraged.

  There was no sign of Carl at break. I didn’t want to go and look for him, but at the same time I did want to see him. I didn’t know how to decipher these conflicting sensations. Meanwhile Nina didn’t stop teasing me about it all day. I could hardly wait to go and see Claire, who would just scold me for two hours without asking me anything.

  When I went over to my locker, there was a letter with my name on stuck to the door. I looked around to see if I could spot the person who wrote it, and quickly took it down before anyone noticed it. It said:

  I have two tickets in the second row for Sylvia this Friday. If you’re not interested, I can always go with Thomas. I hear he’s been introduced to ballet recently! C.

  Tickets for Sylvia?

  In the version that Ashton had created specially for Margot Fonteyn in ‘52?

  In the second row?

  Everything was spinning, I had to sit down. Carl was out of his mind, those tickets cost over a hundred pounds each. Of course I couldn’t accept. But I wanted to accept! I ran over to tell Nina.

  ‘But that’s amazing Mia! You’ve always wanted to see Sylvia, what an amazing gift!’ she cried, hugging me.

  ‘But you don’t understand!’ I protested. ‘Those tickets are ridiculously expensive! No seventeen-year-old boy could possibly afford it unless he’s a drug-dealer or minor royalty!

  ‘He must have saved up or borrowed the money from his parents. It’s not like he’s stolen them!’

  ‘But it’s too demanding a gift, I don’t know how to interpret it.’

  ‘Seriously? Mia? Are you in there? If he asked you out, then kissed you, then bought expensive tickets for your favourite show, he obviously likes you! How else can you interpret it?’

  I sagged helplessly against the wall. ‘What do you think I should do?’

  ‘You should go! It’s so romantic! I wish…’ A shadow crossed her face, but she banished it immediately. ‘Seriously, just go, and don’t think about anything except what an incredible time you’re going to have!’

  ‘But if I accept, will that mean we’re going out? I’ve never done this before, I don’t understand all these weird relationship rules.’

  ‘Don’t ask me! If it had happened when our mums were young, it probably would have meant he was about to propose, but in the twenty-first century, nothing means anything. Not even sleeping together,’ she finished bitterly.

  ‘So you don’t think by going to the ballet with him I’ll automatically become his girlfriend?’

  Nina frowned, ‘But why don’t you want that? I thought you liked him. He really is cute, and you can’t bury your head in the sand and avoid all relationships for the rest of your life.’

  I supposed she was right, although I wished I could. I felt like if I started going out with a ‘real’ boy, I would officially enter the adult world, and be faced with all those grey areas and compromises my mother had talked about.

  We went back to class and I tried my best to concentrate on double chemistry, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Sylvia and what I was going to say to Carl. I loved that ballet. I dreamed that one day I too would perform it with the Royal Ballet.

  Many years ago, Mum had taken me to see The Nutcracker at De Montfort Hall and it felt like I had actually gone out of my mind. There were no famous names on the bill, but still I remained transfixed and open-mouthed for over two hours and at the end clapped so hard I thought my hands would bleed. I had never been to the ballet since. It was too expensive, so I made do with my DVDs and whatever I could find on YouTube. A show at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden was the closest thing to the happiness I could imagine. If it had only been Patrick who had invited me my life would have been complete.

  At the end of the day, I walked past Carl’s locker and stuck a note on the door with chewing gum that said, ‘Okay.’

  Back home, I locked myself in my room and threw myself onto the bed. It had started raining outside and I felt strange, melancholy and confused. I hugged my pillow and curled into a fetal position, trying to imagine what my evening with Carl would be like. What we would talk about in the car, whether we would go for dinner before the show, and above all, if he tried to kiss me again, would I let him?

  I wondered what Patrick was doing now. He hadn’t updated Facebook for ages, but there were some new photos that showed him on the ship along with the other cadets. He was always
smiling and looked so handsome and proud.

  The only positive thing to come from that horrible night of the party was that I now had his number stored in my phone. Every now and then I selected it and looked at it for tens of minutes, sometimes imagining it would ring, and sometimes daring myself to call it.

  And what? Hang up as soon as he answered? It was absurd. Carl would sell his granny for a phone call from me, while I dreamed of calling a man who barely knew I existed. Perhaps agreeing to go out with Carl, who was objectively a sweet and nice boy, was the only way to get Patrick out of my head once and for all.

  I pulled myself up from the bed, inadvertently resting my elbow on my phone keypad, and reached for the history book on my desk. A few seconds later I heard a distant voice calling my name. Was I dreaming? It sounded like Patrick!

  ‘Mia? Mia, is that you? Are you okay?’

  This was unhealthy. I had to stop thinking about him so much. I looked around, bewildered, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. When I realised it was coming from my phone, my heart stopped. Without thinking, I pushed the red button and hung up.

  I stared at my phone in horrified shame. How could I have been so stupid? I had barely finished the thought when my phone began to ring and vibrate. I instinctively buried it under a pillow.

  Okay, breathe. Patrick was calling me back and I needed to answer the phone and tell him I’d called him by mistake. But who still called people by accident in the 21st century? He’d think I was an idiot!

  ‘Come on,’ I told myself, ‘Bite the bullet, get it over with.’

  ‘Hello?’ I tried to sound nonchalant.

  ‘Mia! It that you? I think you called me by mistake!’ I felt him smile.

  ‘Er, who is this?’ I said, banging my head against the pillow.

  ‘Mia, It’s Patrick! Don’t you know my voice? One of these days you will explain to me what I’ve done to upset you! Am I really so terrible?’

  I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought I was going to spontaneously combust. I could have sworn I could see smoke coming out of my ears.

  ‘Oh hello! I…er…didn’t recognize the number. This phone is so old, it probably called you by itself!’ I heard my voice saying, somewhere a long way away.

  ‘An old phone? I thought you had that new one that filters out background noise,’ he laughed.

  God, I really was a moron.

  ‘How’s it going? Are you preparing for your exams?’ he asked.

  I would be if I wasn’t thinking about you twenty-four hours a day.

  ‘Yes, er, I’m doing a lot of studying. We’re.Nina and I are studying.a lot.’

  You know, in between fighting sixth formers and making an idiot of myself.

  ‘Well, you’re really clever, you’ll do great. Do you know what you’re doing next year?’

  ‘No, I’m still undecided .’

  Between getting electric shock therapy and locking myself in a convent.

  ‘If I can give you advice, I’d pick a couple of options, so you have more choice later on.’

  ‘Okay, I will. When are you coming back?’ I asked quickly, without thinking and then immediately regretted it. It was too personal a question.

  ‘I’ve got more leave on Thursday. I’m doing some crazy shifts, but this way I get to accumulate days off so I can come home more often.’

  Thursday? This Thursday?

  I imagined Carl handing over the tickets and saying, ‘Here, Mia, these are for you, take whoever you want, I don’t want them,’ and I would give the other ticket to Patrick.

  ‘Thursday.’ I repeated in a trance.

  Of all the days in the year, the only one when I have something to do!

  ‘Are you coming to dinner with us?’

  TO DINNER WITH YOU? This was not happening!

  ‘Oh. But... I can’t... Yes, okay!’ I replied.

  Idiot. A hopeless moron.

  ‘Great! And this time you have to promise you’ll sit next to me and try to talk to me for ten minutes at least!’

  ‘If it’s only for ten minutes I might be able to force myself, but I’m not promising anything.’

  Or I could sit on your lap and talk to no-one but you for the next thirty years.

  ‘See you Thursday, then! Take care!’

  Sure. I’ll just be here reliving this call for the rest of my life.

  I hung up and covered my face with the pillow. What had I done? I told him I was going to dinner with them, when I was supposed to be going to London with Carl. Why was everything so complicated? I wanted to go to dinner with him and see Sylvia. But instead I had to choose between the two most important events of my stupid life?

  I was finished. I didn’t know how to get out of it.

  My lesson with Claire was a catastrophe.

  ‘What is wrong with you today, have you been bitten by a tarantula? Why are you so upset? Have you been drinking coffee again? I told you to stay away from that stuff, you’re too young! Green tea, get Elena to buy you some green tea. It’s full of vitamins! Right, let’s start again! ‘

  I was bathed in sweat like never before, the thought of Patrick bounced around between my heart and my head like a crazy pinball machine. I tried my best to focus on dancing, but I was slow and inattentive and I kept missing the beat. Not even the pain of the blisters on my feet could bring me back to reality. I could think of other things for no more than three minutes, before the memory of his voice overwhelmed me without warning and I was struck with the power of an avalanche by a surge of unstoppable and violent emotion that left me without strength.

  This wasn’t normal, I didn’t recognise myself anymore. I was in the grip of an uncontrollable euphoria that made me smile for no reason and wracked my body with mysterious and delicious shivers. It was as if someone had violently shaken a bottle of coke kept cautiously in the fridge for years and then removed the lid. I realised that my feelings for Patrick were no longer the same as they were when I was five, ten or even thirteen. No, what I felt now was something completely different, something almost dangerous.

  I had to find a way to tell Nina about the call and the invitation to dinner. I didn’t want to, but I knew Patrick would mention it like it was a funny story, instead of the tragic mistake that it was, and I certainly couldn’t just turn up at dinner and say, ‘Oh hi, your brother invited me!’ I was at a loss to explain why I had been unable to say the simple words: ‘I’m sorry, I’m busy on Thursday.’ But no, I had to make everything as difficult for myself as possible.

  And what would I say Carl? Could I ask him to change the tickets? He probably wouldn’t be happy about it, but one day was the same as another for him, where for me the difference was vital. I had to find a way to do both, it was impossible to decide between them.

  I just couldn’t choose.

  6

  Next morning I was sitting on the bench in the school gym, waiting for my turn to play volleyball, when Carl came and sat next to me. I started as only people with a guilty conscience do.

  ‘So, are we still on for Thursday?’ he asked, unable to completely hide the excitement in his voice.

  If I was going to ask him to postpone, now was the time to do it, but I didn’t know if

  I had the courage.

  ‘Yes, I suppose, although...’ I pretended to be engrossed in the game. I couldn’t look at him.

  ‘Although what?’

  ‘My mum asked me to stay at home and help her with a big dinner for…YES! GET IN!’ I leapt out of my seat, cheering for the wrong team.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ he hesitated. ‘Is it really important?’

  ‘Kind of. It’s...a dinner for the people who do the Avon catalogue. They’re giving her a promotion, I think.’

  I don’t know what made me think of that. Mum’s friend Betty sold stuff for Avon, and was always trying to offload cyclamen pink lipsticks and pearly nail varnishes, which Mum hated but bought anyway to help her out. Did Avon even give people promotions?


  ‘Oh. Okay. Well, maybe another time then,’ he replied, disappointed.

  ‘Could we move the date, maybe?’ I tried to sound casual, keeping my eyes on the volleyball.

  ‘Ah, no, they’ve sold out. It was hard enough finding these tickets, they were the last seats available. But if you can’t, you can’t, don’t worry,’ he said, obviously trying to hide his disappointment.

  I turned and made the colossal mistake of looking him in the eye, where I saw all his dignified sadness, disguised as understanding. And I was screwed.

  ‘No, come on! I’ll find a way around it! I wouldn’t miss this for the world!’

  ‘Are you sure? What about your mum?’

  ‘She’ll manage. She’ll probably be glad I’m not there dropping the plates!’

  At that moment Nina appeared, red in the face and soaked in sweat, and sat down between us.

  ‘We lost! I sucked, and you cheered for the other team! Hi Carl, did you see that? Some friend! And you go inviting her to ballets…’

  Carl smiled.

  Then I was called over to play, and I stood up reluctantly, not liking the idea of leaving them together to talk. I didn’t want Carl to ask if my mother really worked for Avon and, even worse, Nina would wonder what I was up to. I hadn’t told her about Patrick’s call.

  Patrick. Just the thought of him set my heart thumping in my ears and turned my brain to pulp, so I didn’t see the ball coming from nowhere at the speed of light until it had hit me in the face and knocked me to the ground. Well, at least I had found a way to separate them.

  I heard my name called several times, and saw the other kids crowded around me. My nose hurt like hell. Nina was by my side right away, and I could hear Carl saying dramatically, ‘Call a doctor, call a doctor!’

  I didn’t realise what had happened until I saw Thomas standing over me with a hateful grin and the ball in his hand. ‘Sorry, my bad,’ he smirked, I didn’t do it on purpose!’

  I glared at him and rested my head back on the ground, looking up at the worried faces of my companions.

  ‘What an idiot!’ said Nina, distraught, ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Oh, forget it. You reap what you sow, I guess!’