by Vivien Brown
‘What? Colin, you mean?’ I could feel myself redden just at the sound of his name. ‘I never said he was bothering me, Eve. Just that he sort of, well, likes me.’
She pulled the pouffe across from beside the sofa and climbed up onto it to put the fairy on top of the tree. ‘There we are. The finishing touch. I made that fairy, do you remember? In primary school. Time we got a new one really. Her wings are getting a bit tatty.’
‘I suppose. Be a shame to change things though, wouldn’t it? She’s a part of our lives, our childhood …’
‘Things change, Sarah. Not much we can do about that. I mean, look at you, all grown up. I swear you’re at least two inches taller than when I left.’ She sat down beside me on the carpet and linked her arm through mine. ‘So, how do you feel about him, this Colin? You said he was younger than you. And a bit on the chubby side? He’s not really boyfriend material, is he? And you are still a bit young …’
‘Just forget I ever mentioned him, all right?’ I squirmed away from her and stood up. She was just going to mock me, wasn’t she? Silly little Sarah, too young to be interested in boys, or for any boy to be showing an interest back. It was typical of Eve, playing the seemingly protective, but-really-I-know-best, big-sister card. But things do change, she was right about that. I had no intention of being Little Sarah, forever in her shadow, any longer. Or of settling for Colin Grant who, let’s face it, was only fourteen, and probably still wore Superman pyjamas and took a hot water bottle to bed. There were girls in my year at school who were already on the pill. Dating sixth formers. Wearing C-cup bras and blagging their way into nightclubs. I looked down at my still disappointingly flat chest and horribly skinny knees. Okay, so I didn’t quite look the part yet, but it wouldn’t be long …
‘I’m going to see if Mum needs any help in the kitchen,’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘You can walk Buster for a change. After all these weeks of me having to do it on my own, it’s definitely your turn.’
‘Where is he anyway? I haven’t seen him since we got back.’
‘Upstairs on your bed, probably. He’s taken to sleeping there quite a bit since you’ve been gone. Your quilt’s got a bit hairy, but never mind, eh?’
‘Yuck!’ She pulled a face and headed for the stairs, taking her suitcase with her, and muttering under her breath, ‘I just hope he hasn’t got fleas.’
Mum was making shepherd’s pie for tea. It was one of Eve’s favourites, and I knew full well that the next couple of weeks were going to be all about Eve. By the time I joined Mum in the kitchen she had already peeled the potatoes and they were bubbling away in a pan on the stove.
‘Anything I can do?’
‘No, Love. You go and make the most of having your sister home. Have a girly chat, swap make-up, play some music in your room, whatever you girls like to do. I know how much you’ve missed her.’
‘Actually, I think she’s about to walk the dog. And it’s cold out there. I’d rather stay at home. Plenty of time to catch up later.’
‘Homework then? I’m sure they must have given you some to do over the holidays, and you don’t want to leave it to the last minute, do you?’
Given the choice of dog walking or homework, I knew which I preferred. It may have been cold outside, but not that cold. I grabbed Buster’s lead from behind the back door and went to find my coat, and my sister, in the hall.
Buster’s route around the block was as good as set in stone. I sometimes thought we could have opened the front door and sent him off out by himself and he’d have trundled from tree to lamp post and back again without even realising there was no lead attached to his collar and no human attached to the other end. Still, I never dared try it. Much as I might moan about Buster and the need to take him out in all weathers, I loved that old dog and couldn’t bear the thought of anything bad happening to him.
‘So, what have you been up to then, while I’ve been away?’ Eve and I fell into step and trailed along, slowly, behind the dog.
‘Not a lot.’
‘How’s school?’
‘I hate school. You know that.’
‘Well, you won’t get to uni by hating school. You’ve got to knuckle down for your exams next summer, and get the grades, or you won’t even get to do the A levels you want. Which subjects do you fancy, by the way?’
‘Can’t say I fancy any of them, actually. Now, Paul Jacobs … I do fancy him!’
Eve laughed. ‘Boys aren’t the be all and end all, you know. Look at me. Still young, free and single, and I don’t ever feel there’s a gaping great hole in my life.’
‘You’re different. You’re clever and sensible, and you love studying, and books. You’ll probably marry some nerdy swot when you’re thirty-five and go off to live in a library, and end up with a row of little kids who all wear glasses. Going to uni is all you ever dreamed of. I haven’t got a hope in hell of doing as well in my exams as you did, and then Dad’ll be on my back about throwing my future away, and Mum’ll be trying to get me onto some typing course, and I’ll end up being some no-hope office junior for ever.’
‘God, Sarah, you sound like you’ve given up already. There must be something you want to do, something you’re good enough at that you could build a career around. And you said you wanted to know all about uni, so you must at least like the idea of going there yourself.’
‘Yeah, to get away from home, meet people, party …’
‘We do have to study as well, you know. It’s not all fun and games. And some of it is just like the school you say you hate so much. Lectures, and assignments, and deadlines. Don’t put yourself through all that just to be allowed to stay up late and drink yourself stupid. You can do that anywhere.’
‘Try telling Mum and Dad that!’
‘Well, I don’t mean now, obviously. Not while you’re still only fifteen.’
‘Sixteen next month.’
‘Yes, okay. Not yet, is all I meant. But later on, when you’re earning, when you can get your own place …’
‘Which, without an education and a decent job, I will never be able to afford. It’s like some nasty evil masterplan, isn’t it? The only way you have any hope of getting what you really want is to have to do the very thing you don’t want to do at all.’
‘Like work hard, you mean? Pass exams? Get a career? That’s how the world works. It doesn’t just land in your lap.’
‘You do know you sound just like Mum, don’t you? But there’s always the other way, isn’t there? Meet someone rich, have babies, never have to work at all …’
‘And how often does that happen? Prince Edward isn’t about to pop up at the corner shop, is he?’
‘Prince Edward? For heaven’s sake, Eve, credit me with some taste. He may be royal and all that, but he’s ancient.’
‘So you want rich and young, do you? And with film-star looks too, I suppose?’
‘Of course. I was thinking someone more like Ronan Keating or Robbie Williams …’
‘Dream on, Kid! Besides, Ronan’s just got married, hasn’t he? You’ve missed the boat there. But if there’s one thing that really is good about uni it’s the number of available boys. You’d be spoilt for choice.’
‘All poor though, living on student grants and baked beans.’
‘Maybe. But with prospects, at least.’
‘So, where’s yours then? Your boy with prospects? Because I can’t see him anywhere.’
‘That’s because he doesn’t exist. Because I’m not looking for him. But that’s not to say I couldn’t find him if I was.’
‘Oh, yeah? Go on then. Prove it.’
‘I don’t want to.’ She turned to face me, her expression suddenly serious. ‘It’s all about priorities, isn’t it? Concentrating on my course instead of going on some kind of frantic manhunt is my choice. Just like whether to try for uni or not is yours. I’m not going to tell you what to do, even if Mum and Dad might try to.’
We stood in silence, watching Buster as he snuffled out a big
stick from the base of a tree. Eve bent down to pull it out of his mouth. She threw it up high, trying to start a game, and we watched as it landed on the pavement a few yards away, but clearly Buster didn’t want it enough to make the effort to run and retrieve it. Somehow, I knew exactly how he felt.
Chapter 5
EVE
There was a strange noise coming from Fran’s room. I had come in from my last lecture of the day, tired and cold and fancying a quick slice of toast before working out what to eat for my dinner, but I had forgotten I didn’t have any butter left. I really couldn’t face the walk back to the shop, so I took a peek on the other girls’ shelves in the big communal fridges, which were looking badly in need of a good wipe down although I felt no great urge to tackle the job myself. I was just about to pinch a scrape of Annie’s margarine and a sneaky spoon of Ruth’s strawberry jam, when I heard what sounded very much like someone trying to suppress a scream.
I froze. What on earth was that? I tiptoed out into the hall and waited. There it was again, and it was coming from Fran’s room, right opposite the kitchen. A kind of gasping sound I had never heard her make before. Was she ill? Hurt? I felt my heart start to race and was about to rap on her door to see if she was all right when I distinctly heard her laugh. Well, I suppose it was more of a giggle really. And then a male voice, deep and low, saying something I couldn’t quite make out – in fact it was almost definitely in a foreign language – followed a few seconds later by a slow rhythmic banging, like something hitting hard against the wall, that just seemed to get louder and faster, and more and more blindingly obvious, the longer I stood there, my feet inexplicably glued to the floor.
Fran had a man in there, and they were … well, I was pretty sure they were having sex.
Another gasp filtered through the wall. It was no good. I didn’t want to listen. I might be tired and hungry, but I just wanted to get out of there so I didn’t have to hear any more. Flicking the toaster switch off, with the slice of bread still inside, I grabbed my coat and bag from where I’d left them on the back of a chair and ran for the stairs.
It was a chilly January evening, already dark, and I had no real plan, so I just put my head down to keep the wind out of my face and headed towards the centre of campus, and the shop. I might as well buy that butter I needed so I wouldn’t have to pinch any more from the others. I can’t say I was too keen on that awful margarine that Annie used anyway. And maybe I could run to a bottle of wine, just a cheap one. Suddenly, I felt like I really needed a drink. And a pair of ear plugs, but I doubted they sold them.
Lenny was in his usual spot behind the counter.
‘Hello, Evie Peevie. What can we get you today, my lovely?’
‘Hi, Lenny. I’ll just grab a basket and have a browse, I think. See what takes my fancy.’
‘You do know I’m spoken for, don’t you?’ he said, giving me an exaggerated wink. ‘And you’d need a considerably bigger basket …’
‘I didn’t mean you! As well you know.’ I laughed, giving him a friendly punch on the arm, and made my way down the booze aisle which was, I suppose unsurprisingly considering the shopping priorities of the average student, almost as big as all the food ones put together.
‘What’re you up to later?’ Lenny had followed me to the wine shelves and was hovering at my side, pushing his floppy hair back out of his eyes. Oh God, I hoped he had only been joking and he wasn’t about to ask me out or something.
‘Not a lot. I’ve got a book I’m supposed to have read and haven’t. And my dinner to sort out.’
‘Come out with us. Beth and me. Have a few drinks, get a burger …’
‘You sure she wouldn’t mind?’ The idea certainly appealed, but I hesitated. ‘I really don’t want to be some sort of gooseberry, elbowing in on your date.’
‘Course not! She’d love to see you. It’s not as if we were planning some romantic twosome. I’m sure there’ll be others about. It usually turns into a bit of a group thing on a Friday night. Beth’s science crowd mostly. And I think there’s a band on, in the bar. Not exactly Take That, but it’s a chance to have a dance, a bit of a laugh, you know …’
Since getting back after Christmas, I hadn’t been out much. Too cold, too busy. I was in danger of becoming a hermit, and I knew it. I didn’t have a lot else to do that night which didn’t involve either studying or being an unwilling witness to someone else’s love life, so why not?
‘Okay. When were you thinking of meeting up? And where?’
‘Look, my shift ends in about ten minutes, so why not hang around now? Keep me company, and then we can walk to Beth’s place together. Unless you wanted to go back and get changed or anything?’
I looked down at myself. Clean jeans, a T-shirt and baggy cardi. My warm coat, and a pair of trainers, not too scuffed. I was presentable enough. Not quite nightclub wear, but this was uni, and everyone dressed pretty much the same way, whatever the occasion. And I always carried a toothbrush and a basic make-up kit in my bag. I’d do.
I put my empty basket down. The last thing I’d want if I was staying out for the evening was to drag a slab of butter about with me. I could already imagine it getting warm in the heat of the bar and squashed to a pulp at the bottom of my bag. An excuse not to go back to the flat, and to whatever was going on in Fran’s room, was just what I needed.
‘No, that’s okay. I’ll come now.’
‘Great. As soon as my replacement turns up, we’ll go. Burgers first, yeah? Plenty of chunky chips. Can’t beat ’em. I never can face a night of drinking on an empty stomach.’
‘Absolutely!’
Within a quarter of an hour we were walking side by side along one of the narrow pathways that spread out, spider-like, towards the outer reaches of the campus, and out through the gates. Lenny’s big boots scrunched hard on the pavement, his breath billowing out in long airy puffs as he spoke.
‘Bloody cold tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get some snow.’
‘Really?’
‘It’s expected, so they say. Means my dad’ll have to get out to the sheep if we do.’
‘Oh, yeah. I forgot you’re from a farming family. Must be tough, having to worry about the animals. We’ve only got a dog, and taking him out in the snow’s bad enough, but sheep …’
‘Well, they do tend to look after themselves, most of the time. Woolly coats and all that. It’s just making sure they have food. But right now, it’s feeding myself that’s top of the list. I hope Beth’s ready. I could eat a horse!’
‘You wouldn’t though, would you? Eat a horse, I mean.’
‘Don’t see why not. Cows, sheep, pigs, what’s the difference? If they’re bred for meat. You surely don’t think we farmers give them all names and treat them as pets?’
‘Of course not.’ Suddenly I felt a bit stupid. The city girl, with no idea about country life at all.
‘Don’t go turning vegetarian on me, Evie, or you and me will be seriously falling out! Can put us out of business, an attitude like that …’
‘Veggie? Me? No way.’ I linked my arm through his, to show we were still mates. ‘Bring on the burgers!’
***
The bar was crowded that night, and we were lucky to get seats. Beth was drinking at least two vodkas to every one of my glasses of wine and I could see her getting slowly more and more giggly, even though, above all the noise, I could hardly hear a word she said.
The band were okay. Not exactly hit-record prospects, but they managed to keep the place buzzing, with plenty of bodies bopping about on the dancefloor. There were the usual puddles of spilt drink to negotiate as I picked my way through the semi-darkness to the toilets, where the sudden bright light glaring above the mirror and the weird silence when I closed the door behind me brought on an almost instant headache. Or maybe that was the booze, which my body was no longer accustomed to in such quantities. I stood for a while, splashing cold water over my over-heated face, then leaned on the sink, letting my mind clear a b
it before going back in. Perhaps it was time to call it a night, especially if I was going to have to get myself back to the flat. Any more to drink and I would have trouble walking in a straight line.
Beth and Lenny were nowhere to be seen and my seat at the small table in the corner had already been occupied by someone else when I returned. ‘Sorry,’ I said, hoping to make myself heard, as I tried to ease my coat off the back of the chair. ‘Could I just …?’
It was only when he turned around that I saw who it was sitting in my seat.
‘Oh, I know you, don’t I?’ he said. ‘The girl with the cheese …’
‘Well, I’ve been called worse, I suppose. You’re Josh, aren’t you? Mr Can’t Be Bothered. From that party …’
‘Is that really the impression I gave? Can’t be bothered? And there’s me thinking it was my charm and stunning good looks that the ladies remember me by!’
‘I’m sorry. I can hardly hear a word you’re saying. Something about good books?’
‘Oh, trust you! I remember now. Eve, studying English, right? Bit of a bookworm …’
I bent closer, and a whiff of the most delicious aftershave hit me. ‘Sorry, Josh, if I could just grab my coat, I was about to leave.’
‘By yourself?’
‘Yep. Time to get home to bed.’
I saw his eyes light up, shining with mischief. ‘Mmm, now there’s an offer I don’t get every day.’
‘I didn’t mean that! About bed. Well, not together …’ God, he was maddening. How did he manage to make me feel so flustered?
‘Of course you didn’t. How about a dance though? Before you go. We’re getting into the slow ones now, and I’d look a right prat dancing on my own. I’ll walk you back after, eh? Don’t like to think of a lady out alone at night.’
‘I don’t know about that.’
‘About the dance, or the walking back? Because they’re not mutually exclusive, you know. You can pick one with no obligation to take the other.’
I couldn’t help but smile. Talking like that, he was either extremely sober, or extremely drunk, and I had no way of knowing which.