The Islanders

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The Islanders Page 14

by FJ Campbell


  ‘Oh, it’s a long story. Check your mirror. Indicate.’

  A song came on the radio, Come On Eileen, and they sang along to it. When it had finished, Milo said, ‘So, is that an old song or a new song, would you say? The speed limit’s thirty here.’

  ‘Well, out here in the sticks, it’s brand new, because you’re all so behind the times, but in London it’s an oldie.’

  ‘What’re the kids listening to in London, then? You can’t overtake here.’

  ‘Dunno, I’ll tell you next week.’ She heard Milo chuckle. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Not so much funny, really. I was thinking, for you this song is old. For me, it’s quite new. Some people at school think that everything old is rubbish – old music, old clothes, old books, old people – but if you think about it, everything gets old sooner or later. As soon as something’s happened, it starts to get old.’

  ‘Yeah, but what makes it good is not that it’s new, but that it’s original. Something that makes you feel like you’ve never felt before. It’s exciting.’

  ‘But that’s just perception. Really, there is nothing new. Everything is a rearrangement of the same words, the same notes, the same colours. That’s not original, it’s just a new version. Same stars, different constellation.’

  ‘How poetic. Also, how depressing. Or are you going to tell me you think that’s reassuring too?’ She turned her head quickly to Milo.

  He was grinning. ‘Yep, I reckon. Don’t look at me, look at the road.’

  *

  When they arrived at Beth’s house, Milo came in to say hello to Anne and then left to catch the bus back to The Island. Later that afternoon, the phone rang. Anne answered it.

  ‘Oh, hello… Edward? Let me see…’ She held out the phone to Beth but, seeing her niece shake her head, continued, ‘Edward, sorry, she’s not in at the moment. Yes, I’ll tell her, tomorrow evening…? At home – OK, goodbye.’ She put down the phone. ‘Edward would like you to call him tomorrow evening at home.’

  ‘Is he back from Berlin?’

  ‘He’s flying in tomorrow, and will be in Cornwall by the evening.’

  ‘Oh, shame. I’m getting the first train to London tomorrow.’

  Anne gave her a searching look. ‘Tomorrow? I thought you were going on Monday?’

  ‘Changed my mind.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Just now.’

  ‘I see. Well, far be it from me to interfere in your love life. Have fun, but make sure you don’t go anywhere near Brixton. There’s a whole heap of trouble brewing around the poll tax demonstrations.’

  ‘How do you know about all these raves and riots and stuff?’ Beth said, in awe of her aunt.

  ‘It’s called the real world, Beth.’

  *

  She was going to check in at James’ flat in Clapham and meet up with Zack after she’d done some shopping. The party was on Monday night. When she stepped off the train at Waterloo station, the first person she saw was Edward. It was too late to turn around or hide – he’d seen her too. She forced a smile onto her face and walked slowly towards him.

  ‘Hello, Edward, how are you?’

  ‘Beth. Hello.’ His smile was nervous; he looked pale and had dark circles under his eyes. ‘I was going to call you later. I got your letter. I had to speak to you. Do you have time to talk? My train home doesn’t leave for another hour.’

  They found a café and sat down in the window, opposite each other. Edward sat silently for a minute, stirring his coffee. Beth lit a cigarette.

  She broke the ice. ‘How was Berlin?’

  ‘Fascinating. Euphoric. Agitated. How was The Island?’

  Beth thought, Strangely enough, exactly the same. But she said nothing.

  ‘I’ll get to the point. About Zachary Smythe. I think you’re making a big mistake. He’s—’

  ‘Edward, excuse me. I think you should be careful what you say now. I’m not going to sit here and listen to you insult my boyfriend.’

  He winced at the word, and she tried to be gentle.

  ‘I never promised you anything, only that I’d think about it. And I thought about it, and I don’t want to go out with you. I chose Zack.’

  ‘I can’t let this happen again…’

  ‘Again? What do you mean, again?’

  ‘He’s promiscuous. He doesn’t respect girls. He’s a sexual deviant.’

  ‘A what? Are you joking? Oh, you’re not joking. But… a sexual deviant? Edward, you should hear yourself.’ She softened her voice. ‘Look, I’ve already had this lecture from Milo. He’s worried about me, you’re worried about me. I get it. But I feel good about this. I’m happy. And I don’t care that Zack’s slept with loads of girls. Like I told Milo, I can take care of myself.’

  ‘Is there no way I can change your mind? Come with me to Cornwall. Spend half-term with me. We can ride, get away from it all.’

  ‘I don’t want to get away from it all. I want to get into it all. I want to spend half-term in London with Zack. I don’t care what you say. It’s my choice.’

  She stubbed out her cigarette and stood up to go. Edward’s hand flashed onto hers. She tried to pull away, but he gripped her hard.

  ‘Have you slept with him?’

  ‘What? I’m not going to answer that.’

  ‘Then you have.’ His shoulders drooped. The shadows under his eyes gave him a haunted look. Still gripping her hand, he muttered something under his breath and stood up, pulling her to him. When she raised her eyes to his, she saw with a jolt that they were cruel and bitter.

  ‘I won’t let it happen. I’ll do anything to stop it. You stay away from him or I’ll get him expelled.’ His voice was cold and frightening.

  ‘For what? Edward, expelled for what? I don’t understand why you’re so bothered about this.’

  She managed to pull away from him, and he muttered again under his breath.

  ‘What – what’s wrong?’ She was frightened, but in his eyes she saw something desperate and wretched and couldn’t be angry with him.

  ‘He’d better keep his hands off you. Tell him that from me. If he doesn’t, and I catch him, tell him – and use these words – this is the end.’

  He left the café, and Beth lit up another cigarette, ordered another coffee and sat staring into space. By the time she’d finished them, her hands had stopped shaking and her thoughts had turned to her favourite subject: Zack.

  *

  That night, Beth went alone to the cinema on the King’s Road and watched Dead Poets Society, which she’d been meaning to see since Christmas. She stayed overnight at James’ flat, had a bath and went to bed early. She had a strange dream. She was in a maze, and it was a frightening place, full of shadows and unknown dangers. She was struggling to breathe; the air was stifling. She understood that the maze wasn’t safe for her. She didn’t know where to turn. Three figures loomed in front of her: Milo, Edward and Zack. They beckoned to her silently, and she knew that one of them would help her escape the terrors of the maze. She looked from one to the next, at their outstretched hands, and slowly walked towards Zack. The dream ended and she woke up, her breath coming in great gasps as she tried to calm down.

  So much for beauty sleep, she thought ruefully.

  The next day she shopped and afterwards went back to James’ for another bath. She wanted to look her best when she saw Zack that evening. They were having dinner with his mother. As she made her way over to Notting Hill in a taxi, she wondered about the dream and about what Edward and Milo had said to her. Why were both of them so worked up about Zack? Perhaps they’d heard some of the same rumours that Livvy had heard. But Beth was mad about Zack and knew he was telling the truth. He was right for her.

  The dinner with Zack’s mother was fairly nerve-racking. Madame Smythe was charming, but the way she looked at Beth, as if searching for something, made her feel like she was being investigated.

  ‘You are a very beautiful girl, Beth. We must try to get you signed
up with an agency when you’ve finished school,’ she declared matter-of-factly.

  ‘An agency?’ Beth said.

  ‘Modelling. Or acting. You would be fabulous, a big success.’

  ‘Oh, no, no, I don’t want to be a model. I would hate it. I hate the thought of all those strangers staring at me.’

  ‘Really? Shame. I would have thought you’d be a natural.’ Again, that searching stare.

  Beth felt a flicker of fear about the direction this conversation was taking. James and Anne had warned her that there might be people of their generation who would remember her parents. Anyone with a decent memory would see the resemblance between her and her mother.

  ‘Actually, I want to direct. Films,’ she said.

  Madame Smythe clapped her hands together. ‘What a wonderful thing. And you know, Zachary wants to act. I am sure you will be a wonderful couple, so famous, so beautiful.’

  Zack lit a cigarette and offered one to Beth. She glanced at Zack’s mother, who was also lighting up, and took it.

  ‘Well, Maman, that’s enough planning our shining future together. Didn’t you say you were going somewhere this evening?’

  Madame Smythe rose, kissed his cheek and left the room.

  ‘Sorry about that, she gets a bit carried away,’ he drawled.

  ‘She’s… umm… nice.’

  ‘Nice? She’s old. She’s sad.’

  ‘Well, it’s something that she cares about you, your future.’

  ‘Huh. It’s always the same thing with these oldsters. All they do is drone on about the past and the future. Who gives a shit? Today – that’s all there is.’

  ‘Carpe diem?’

  ‘You’re not going to get anywhere with me by quoting Latin. Talking of getting anywhere with me, would you like to see my bedroom?’ He smiled, stubbed out his cigarette and grabbed her hand as she stood up.

  He led her downstairs into the cellar. Beth loved his room: it was huge, with photos and posters all over the walls, a TV in one corner, and on the floor a stereo with tapes and CDs strewn around it. She looked around for somewhere to sit, but there was only the double bed. Zack switched on a couple of lamps, put on a Lenny Kravitz CD and, holding her forearm, walked Beth towards the bed. Her heart was pounding; he must surely be able to hear it. She sat on his lap and he kissed her, his hand sliding down the side of her hip to the bottom of her skirt. She pulled her face away from his and pressed her legs together. His eyes met hers, asking the question.

  ‘I… I wasn’t going to stay tonight. I didn’t bring anything… I don’t have a toothbrush,’ she said lamely.

  ‘We could share?’

  Beth chewed her bottom lip. ‘Won’t your mother mind?’

  Zack’s hand left her leg and he wriggled out from underneath her. ‘Is there a problem? I’ve been waiting for you to make up your mind about this. It’s always too cold, we’re going to get caught, it’s not private enough…’ He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I do want to, it’s just…’

  ‘Just what?’

  Beth swallowed. ‘Nothing. Yes. I want to.’ She felt brave and grown-up.

  Mollified, Zack leant over to her, kissed her again and pushed her gently back onto the bed, sliding his hand slowly up her skirt. She couldn’t help it – she groaned with pleasure.

  ‘I really do love this skirt,’ he mumbled into her neck.

  His hand circled around to the backs of her thighs and pulled down her knickers. She helped him with her skirt and his jeans, and they both took off their T-shirts. Beth unhooked her bra and he moved closer to her again. He kissed and stroked her all over. She’d never felt so warm and so alive. He moved closer again and she thought her skin would burn. He put his hand between her legs. She gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.

  ‘It’s OK, you can do what you want here.’

  She smiled at him, eyes wide open. ‘Do you… have a…?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ He rolled away from her and opened a drawer in the bedside table. His back tensed. ‘Oh, fuck.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sodding Justin. I said he and Melanie could come here yesterday and look.’ He held out an empty pack of condoms.

  They looked at each other, and he said, ‘I’ll be careful, I’ll pull out in time.’ Beth shook her head miserably. Zack groaned in frustration and rolled onto his back. There was a stony silence.

  ‘Isn’t there… anything else we can do, for tonight?’ she asked in a hopeful voice.

  Zack rolled to her. The smile was back. So was the hand. Now they were kissing harder and she couldn’t think straight, and she was so hot and felt his finger inside her rubbing and she was lifting her hips, arching her back and there were hundreds of tiny explosions all over her body, electrifying her. Eyelids half closed, she kissed him again as he took her hand and put it on him.

  ‘Hold it here. Move it up and down. Yes, slowly, that’s it.’

  Afterwards, they fell asleep in each other’s arms. Beth forgot to brush her teeth.

  She woke up in the morning and felt the soft underneath part of his upper arm around her neck.

  ‘Zack?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘You know all that stuff we did last night?’

  ‘Mmm?’ He opened one eye.

  ‘Can we please do it again now?’

  *

  Later that evening, after Beth had been back to James’ to shower and change, and Zack had gone condom shopping, they met at Holland Park tube station and walked for a few minutes to a crescent road of white four-storey houses with white pillars outside each front door. Zack rang the bell of number five and a tall, blonde girl peeked round the door.

  ‘We brought champagne. And drugs,’ said Zack.

  ‘Then you may enter,’ replied the girl, grinning. ‘Hi, who are you?’ she said to Beth.

  Beth glanced at Zack, who shrugged. ‘I’m Beth, Zack’s girlfriend,’ she mumbled, annoyed that Zack hadn’t told the girl about her.

  ‘Are you indeed? I’m Annabel.’ She grabbed Zack’s hand and gave him a quick kiss on his mouth. She pushed him inside and turned to Beth. She looked her up and down and Beth squirmed with embarrassment. She raised her eyes from the pavement and was amazed to see the girl laughing.

  ‘What? What’s so fucking funny?’

  ‘Temper, temper, young lady. Look, come.’ Annabel beckoned Beth through the door and made her stand beside her opposite a full-length mirror that dominated the hallway. Beth gazed at their reflections: both the same height, the same build, the same long, slim legs clad in miniskirts, the same shape all the way up and down. Only, Annabel’s hair was bright blonde and her skin was deeply tanned and Beth’s dark hair contrasted with her pale skin and the faint blush on her cheeks.

  Beth finally got the joke and turned to Annabel. ‘We’re like negatives of each other.’

  Annabel put her arm through Beth’s and they left the hallway and entered the high-ceilinged living room, full of people and noise.

  ‘Finally,’ said Annabel.

  ‘Finally, what?’

  ‘Finally, someone I can swap clothes with.’

  *

  A few hours later, Beth sat on a sofa wedged between two people she didn’t know, who were talking over her as if she weren’t there. She stifled a yawn, looked around for Zack but couldn’t see him anywhere, and took in the room. Guests were draped on the floor, on windowsills, on a coffee table, on a piano, in an empty fireplace, on an expensive-looking antique sideboard. Someone was even sitting in what looked like a magazine rack. The doorbell rang and finally she saw Zack when he went to answer it. He came back in with Justin, talking intently in his ear, with one arm slung around his shoulder. Justin nodded a couple of times and peeled away from Zack when he saw Beth looking at him.

  ‘Lucky I can lip-read,’ she said when Zack finally made it over to her.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he said sharply, momentarily losing his usual composure.

  ‘You and Justin. Up to no good.
’ She smiled, and made room on the sofa for him. He looked at her closely and flopped down beside her.

  ‘Yeah, we’re planning to take over the world in approximately…’ he checked his watch, ‘three hours, fifty minutes and twelve seconds. We needed to get a few final plans straight. Want a drink?’ He jumped up again from the sofa and headed off in the direction of the kitchen.

  Beth sighed and sipped her full glass. This party wasn’t exactly what she’d been expecting. Zack hadn’t introduced her to anyone, not even the hostess really, and everyone here was much older and more sophisticated than her. Even Justin was avoiding her, with that shifty look of his. She didn’t know what to talk about; everyone else knew each other and they were talking about a whole other bunch of people she didn’t know. She felt miserable and out of her depth. Also, she had a humungous zit on her forehead.

  She saw Zack disappear for the millionth time towards the kitchen and went to find him, if only for something to do. As she pushed open the door, she froze. Annabel was sitting on his knee at the table, his hand on her thigh, doing a line of coke. They both smiled at her, completely unperturbed. Annabel handed the twenty-pound note she’d used to Zack, slid towards the fridge and pulled out a new bottle of champagne. She asked Beth to open it for her while she fetched some glasses.

  Beth peeled back the foil and twisted the cork. The bottle exploded all over her hair and clothes. She screamed, standing in the middle of the kitchen, everyone around her laughing. Zack was smiling at her in a knowing way. Knowing her temper would get the better of her and she’d start shouting at someone. Beth took a deep breath and tried to smile. She knew it was more like a grimace but it was the best she could do. She thought she saw Annabel wink at Zack, but ignored it. Her voice came out higher than usual.

  ‘Annabel, could I borrow some clothes please?’

  ‘Of course, darling. No probs. Up the stairs, third room on the left. Take anything you like.’

  Beth wandered through the quiet upper floor of the house and finally found the right room. She checked the wardrobe and found some clothes she thought might fit her. There was a four-poster double bed against the back wall. Why do all these rich kids have double beds? she thought. Do their parents actually want them to have sex all the time? As she approached the bed, she saw a piece of paper placed on one of the pillows which read, Don’t even think about it, Zack. Oh, great.

 

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