A Family Affair (38 page)

‘What time will you be home?' Carrie asked.

‘I don't know.'

‘Well – no later than half past ten, I hope,' Carrie said. ‘Your dad and I will want to go to bed.'

But at least Carrie allowed her to go out with boys now. Thank goodness! She couldn't have stood to go through all that hole and corner stuff again.

She half expected him to be waiting but he wasn't. She checked her watch. Two minutes after half past seven. Her heart thudded uneasily. Marilyn had said he probably wouldn't turn up. But then, supposing he'd arrived on time or even early and
she
hadn't been there. He might have thought she wasn't coming and gone again, especially if he'd thought it was later than it was. Or what if something had happened to his motorbike – a breakdown – a puncture …

A leather-jacketed figure materialised around the corner of the pub building, coming towards her. Jenny's heart leaped again.

‘Hi,' he said.

‘Oh!' she said stupidly. ‘Where's your motorbike?'

‘I parked it around the corner.'

‘Oh – aren't we going on it, then?'

‘You don't want to go on it, do you?'

‘I love motorbikes!'

‘Mine's only a 350. Anyway, I can't take passengers. I haven't passed my test.'

‘Oh.' She felt a bit let down.

‘I never seem to have time to take it,' he said. ‘What with training and everything.' He looked in the direction of the Jolly Collier. ‘We could have a drink here, couldn't we?'

‘Well yes, I suppose so.' Jenny thought she might feel a bit awkward so close to home.

The lounge bar this early in the evening was half empty. Bryn looked so handsome in his black leather jacket that Jenny actually felt a little disappointed that there were so few people there to see them. He bought her a rum and blackcurrant –
he remembered my drink!
she thought, pleased, and a pint of bitter for himself, and they sat side by side on one of the overstuffed leatherette sofas by the fire. And talked. And talked.

He told her his home was a village just outside Maidstone, that he was nineteen years old and his trade in the RAF was fitter. Unlike some, he didn't mind having to do National Service, in fact he thought he might sign on as a Regular when his two-year stint was up.

‘Unless I get an offer to go professional as a boxer. But if not, the forces are pretty good to sportsmen. They let you have time off for training and stuff – they like it when you can represent them and get them some kudos.'

She told him about her dream of writing for a top newspaper, and about the tragedy of Linda's death. That wasn't something she'd meant to talk about, it was hardly the sort of conversational gambit to make a first date go with a swing, but there was an ease between them – Jenny felt as if she'd known him all her life – that went far beyond physical attraction, strong as that was. As she talked, he covered her hand with his, gently stroking her fingers, and she thought that nothing before had ever felt so right.

‘It must have been awful,' he said.

She nodded, staring into her rum and black.

‘You just don't expect someone more or less your own age to die,' she said. ‘It was bad enough when it was Grandpa, but at least he was old.'

‘I know.' And he told her about a friend he'd joined up with who had been killed in an accident and again she felt that he understood, that they were communicating on the same level.

‘Shall we go for a walk?' he asked when they had finished their drinks, and she got up without answering because she wanted to be alone with him, really alone, more than anything in the world.

He put his arm around her and she leaned against him, loving the feel of his strong body, loving the smell of his leather jacket, feeling a need she had never felt before and could scarcely put a name to, so strongly that it drove all other thoughts from her mind. As soon as they were off the main road, away from the lights of the pub and away from the passing traffic, he kissed her and immediately her body was pulsing with urgency and the desire to be close to him, closer than it seemed possible two people could ever be whilst still inside their own skins. And it seemed he felt the same, for he unzipped his jacket and folded them both inside it, pressing the whole length of his body against hers. She could feel the swell of his desire in the hollow between her legs and the sweet sharp response it evoked in her was a delightful surprise. She pressed back against him and the sensation grew until it was almost unbearable in its sweetness and urgency. She opened her lips to his, tasting the softness, drinking it in. The world around was lost to her, the sounds of the night, the traffic passing a few feet away on the main road, an owl hooting somewhere in the distance, went unnoticed. They might have been alone, the only two people on the entire planet and the sweetness of the sensations of the flesh entered her heart, making it sing with happiness.

After a while they walked again, past the row of back-to-back cottages where the lighted windows behind their drawn curtains dotted the darkness with small oases of brightness, stopping frequently to kiss again because they could not get enough of one another. A cat leaped from a wall and crossed their path, a man in cap and muffler passed them, heading for the pub, and they only looked at one another and smiled, their eyes meeting in the private world made rosy by the glow of the street lamps.

The football field was deserted, the grandstand a dark cavernous shell. Beneath their feet the perimeter grass crackled with frost. Jenny could feel the cold sharp and aching on her face but the whole of her body was aglow. She showed him the hut with the flat roof that was her secret place and they kissed again, Bryn leaning against its wall, Jenny leaning against him.

‘When can I see you again?' he asked.

‘Whenever.'

‘Thursday? I think I could get down again on Thursday.'

But Thursday seemed a lifetime away – two whole days when she wouldn't see him. She was missing him already.

‘I'm going to have to go now,' he said. ‘I have to get back. I'll walk you home.'

He walked with his arm around her and when they reached Alder Road Jenny worried a little that someone would see and tell Carrie. But there was no way she was going to tell him to remove it.

Outside her gate he kissed her again, but this time it was a light, chaste kiss, and Jenny, with one eye on the front-room curtains in case Carrie was looking out, was grateful if frustrated.

At the point where the path curved around the house to the side door she paused, looking back to watch him walking back along the road. She felt sick with happiness and excitement and slightly unreal, as if she was living a dream.

Jenny knew, without a shadow of doubt, that she was in love.

They met as often as they could, and Jenny felt as if she was living in a dream world where everything was wonderful and yet somehow not quite real. She had to tell someone – the way she felt she was bursting with it – and the person she most wanted to tell was Heather. Whenever she mentioned Bryn to Marilyn she acted strangely, pretending cool indifference, and there was no question of talking to Carrie. She'd already said she was of the opinion that Jenny was seeing far too much of Bryn and no good would come of it, and though she no longer actually prevented Jenny from going out with a boy, her disapproving manner cast a dark cloud. Once, Jenny had asked Bryn in for a coffee when he took her home after a date and Carrie's stiffness was almost as embarrassing as David, moping in the chair and contributing nothing to the conversation – David had moved back home following Linda's death. Jenny hadn't asked Bryn in again – the atmosphere only spoiled for her what had been a lovely evening. No, she certainly didn't want to tell Carrie about the way she felt. But Heather – Heather would understand. Heather would be pleased for her.

Jenny called to see her one evening on her way home from college.

Steve, who now worked at the RN depot at Copenacre with Joe, travelling to and fro on the same coach, was not home yet, and Glad had taken to her bed with a fluey cold, which meant extra work for Heather. But at least the sisters were on their own, except for Vanessa, who was playing with the doll's house Steve had made her.

‘You look full of the joys of spring,' Heather said as Jenny followed her into the kitchen where she was buttering bread for tea. ‘You're really enjoying this course, aren't you?'

‘Yes, but …' Jenny hesitated, torn, now that the moment had come, between wanting to share it and wanting to hug it to herself. Eventually her need to talk about Bryn won. ‘It's not just that. I've met this boy, Heather. He's absolutely … oh, I can't tell you … just super!'

Heather smiled indulgently. ‘Oh yes! Who is he? Someone at college?'

‘No, he's …' Jenny explained, and to her dismay saw Heather's face change.

Inexplicably, her own reaction was anger. ‘Oh, not you too!' she exploded. ‘Can't
anybody
be pleased for me?'

‘Oh, Jenny, if you're happy of course I'm pleased! Tell me all about him …'

Jenny did, but she felt defensive suddenly, so that she could hear herself sounding over-eager, anticipating the objections and over-compensating for them. It wasn't what she'd planned, and Heather's reaction wasn't what she'd expected either.

‘You will be careful, won't you, Jenny?' Heather said, cutting another slice from the loaf.

Jenny frowned. ‘You sound just like Mum!'

‘Well, she has a point. I know she goes too far – tries to wrap you up in cotton wool – but it's only because she's thinking of your good. It's all too easy to get carried away when your feelings are this strong, and do something you'll regret. And it isn't like it's a local boy. You don't really know anything about him, do you? All you know is what he's told you. And he's a lot older than you. I mean … he could be married or anything. You wouldn't know.'

Jenny was staggered. ‘Of course he's not married!'

‘He could be. It's not impossible. He could be taking advantage of the fact that he's away from home to have a fling.'

‘I don't believe this!' Jenny said. ‘I wanted to tell you because I'm so happy and all you're doing is trying to spoil everything!'

‘No, I'm not. Honestly, darling, I want you to be happy more than anything in the world. I just don't want to see you hurt. And I certainly don't want to see you throw away the chance of really doing well, having the sort of career you really want.' She turned the gas on under the kettle and poured milk into a saucepan to warm for Vanessa. ‘It's very important, Jenny, to give yourself the best chance in life.'

‘I don't see what that's got to do with anything,' Jenny retorted.

‘Well, it has. Look at me …'

‘What's wrong with you? You've got a really nice life!'

For a brief moment there was an expression on Heather's face Jenny did not understand.

‘I've been lucky, yes,' she said after a moment. The gas flared beneath the milk pan as she touched it with the ignition torch. ‘Luckier than I deserve, perhaps. But you don't know the half of it. There are things I live with …' Her voice tailed away, then she seemed to gather herself together. ‘Look – you've had a good education, you've got the chance to really make something of yourself. I never had that chance. I worked in a glove factory, on a machine, for a pittance, and now I do gloving here, when I'm dog tired, for even less. I don't even own my own home. But you … the world's your oyster. You can be anything you want.'

‘What I want right now is to go out with Bryn. And everybody seems determined to spoil it!'

‘That's not what we want at all, Jenny. We can see a bit further into the future, that's all. You've got a really good opportunity to really make something of yourself. But you've got to pass your exams and then put your whole heart and soul into getting where you want to be.'

‘I can't see why going out with Bryn need make any difference.'

‘It needn't, of course. All I'm saying is – be careful. Don't do anything you might regret.'

‘You mean getting pregnant,' Jenny said. ‘That's what you mean, isn't it? Why is everyone so sure I'm going to get myself pregnant? Because you did, I suppose.'

Heather whitened. Her whole face went into a mask of frozen shock.

‘But you were years older than I am now!' Jenny rushed on. ‘And you and Steve were in love. He was the right one for you. So what did it matter? Anyway, I'm certainly not going to get pregnant. And I don't need you or anyone to remind me I need to get my qualifications. Going out with Bryn doesn't mean I won't still work hard. That matters to me too.'

But she knew, even as she said it, she wasn't being entirely truthful. Since she had met him nothing else seemed as real or important. Her homework
had
been taking a back seat.

‘That's all right then,' Heather said. ‘And truly, Jenny, the only thing I care about is you being happy. It's just that I'm scared for you. I know how easy it is to get carried away when you feel like that about someone.'

‘I'm not stupid,' Jenny said. But again she admitted the truth to herself; it would be all too easy to give in to that overwhelming need she felt when she was with Bryn, to forget the possible consequences, forget everything, simply
not care.
Even now, away from him, a part of her was yearning to know what it would feel like to make love to him properly, go the whole way.

Heather turned to her, smiling now, and unexpectedly hugged her.

‘Of course you're not stupid, Jenny! You're very bright – much brighter than me. You'll go far. And I'm really glad you're so happy.'

Jenny hugged her back, her annoyance forgotten. She hated quarrelling with Heather; could never stay angry with her for long.