Soul Love (5 page)

It’s amazing how motivating being bored out of your skull can be. The counter was polished to within an inch of its life. I also made sure that I was looking sophisticated at all times,
keeping a half-opened Penguin Classic on the counter. I’d also discovered a dusty poetry book called
Vintage Verse
, and I was actually enjoying puzzling over lines of poetry.
That’s how bad it had got on the boredom front. Typical that when I was looking gorgeous and ready for him, Torso Boy was nowhere to be seen.

But this particular Saturday morning went by quickly, as there were actually some customers. When she was helping them, Sarah became a different person. She seemed more confident. She knew a lot
about old books too. Mrs MacLean from the chemist’s was in seventh heaven because Sarah had tracked down an out-of-print book for her.

The only thing she wasn’t good at was remembering to eat. So at about half past twelve I said, ‘Think I’ll go over to the café for a quick lunch break.’

The café was light and airy and I ordered a coffee and some internet time. The waitress had a trendy haircut and was unfriendly enough to work in London. I started to
smile, then stopped and scowled back at her. Her coldness was a relief. It can be exhausting smiling and acknowledging everyone. Besides, I wanted some time to myself.

I sent Mum an e-mail telling her that I was fine and that Sarah was hoping to get the phone reconnected soon. I hoped she was having a fantastic holiday and said not to worry about me as I was
being kept busy working in the shop and cooking and cleaning for Sarah. That should get some guilt money into the pot.

I spent a long time composing Mia’s e-mail. I told her that I was sharing a cottage with and working for my aunt Sarah, who treated me like an adult. That Netherby was a funky place with
its own summer festival. I also hinted that there was a mystery boy I was interested in. I said I hoped that her mum was not putting her under too much pressure over the schoolwork and that her dad
would hurry up and return from his business trip so that she could get on with owning up to her part in what we had done.

Charlie and Freddie came into the café just as I was finishing my e-mail to Mia. They were wearing matching beanie hats and Freddie was wearing a hideous pair of tinted sunshades. When he
saw me he raised his fist and said, ‘It’s Jenna, my homegirl,’ then sprawled himself out on the chair next to me and puffed himself into a mean pose. When he saw that Charlie had
bought himself a cake he whined, ‘Didn’t you get me a cake? That’s not fair!’

Charlie grinned at me and asked pointedly, ‘Would you like something to eat, Jenna?’

I shook my head.

Freddie said, ‘How about another coffee, innit? I’ll order you one.’ He sprang out of his seat and swaggered to the counter.

‘How long will this hip-hop slang phase last?’ I asked Charlie.

‘Too long,’ Charlie said, laughing. ‘The worst thing is that because he’s taller than me, people assume he’s the oldest. But I’m the one who’s seventeen
and he’s two years younger than me.’

‘That must be tough. Marcus, my brother, is only eight so I don’t have that problem,’ I said.

‘He drives me crazy sometimes,’ he said, ‘and sometimes he just makes me laugh. He is a great guitarist, though. He stays in his room practising for hours and hours, which is
great for the band. What’s not so great is having to ring Mum every night to let her know he’s OK.’

The Ice Maiden brought my coffee over. She had slopped the coffee into the saucer.

‘Hi Cleo, have you met Jenna?’ Charlie said.

She nodded and opened her lips just wide enough to let out a strained hello.

‘She’s staying at Sarah’s,’ Freddie explained whilst stuffing a large bite of Charlie’s cake in his mouth.

‘I’m working at the bookshop,’ I added. For some reason, part of me wanted to impress her.

Cleo looked at me like I just announced I was a cleaner in the local sewage works and said, ‘I never buy second-hand books.’

‘I got a great cricket book there ...’ Freddie began, then he checked himself and reverted to his ‘gansta mode’. ‘Second-hand books aren’t bling-bling
enough!’

‘I like working there!’ I snapped back at both of them and angrily slurped my coffee.

Just then, another voice joined in. ‘Second-hand bookshops are amazing places. You never know what you might find in them.’

My mind flashed back to the sight of his naked chest and I choked on my coffee. Charlie made matters worse by very helpfully thumping on my back.

At the sight of Torso Boy, Cleo transformed from Ice Maiden to Red-Hot Babe. Her eyes lit up and she gave him a long, touchy-feely, sick-making hug. She whispered something in his ear and was
all over him like a rash. He didn’t seem to be complaining either. Cleo whisked him off to show him something ‘really important’ at the other end of the café, leaving me to
watch him from a distance.

I sipped my coffee and pretended to stare in the middle distance as my brain focused on Torso Boy. He was about my height, with a compact build and black hair that was in need of a cut. His
T-shirt was too tight and his trainers were battered. His nose was long and poked out in a funny way. His mouth seemed too big for his face. He twitched a lot when he was talking.

The total effect was devastating.

Chapter Eight

I
t wasn’t just the heat that unsettled me as Sarah and I trudged up to Netherby Hall that afternoon. Images
of Torso Boy kept jumping into my head, making me feel restless. Why had I even hinted to Mia about him? And hadn’t I made up my mind not to bother about boys?

There was something different about Sarah. It took me ages to figure out what it was. Then it hit me – she wasn’t jangling. I looked at her. She wasn’t wearing her bracelets or
her rings. I don’t think I’d ever seen her without jewellery in my whole life.

She noticed me looking. ‘Fancied a change of image, so I sold them. Look, there’s Julius.’

She marched off before I could say anything.

Julius was busy ‘organising’ a group of boy scouts with buckets of water and sponges on the lawn.

He waved us over and said, ‘You win a prize if you can hit me bang on the nose with a sponge. Great fun!’ He pulled on a clown’s nose.

‘It’s a picture of the Incredible Hulk with the face cut out,’ one of the scouts piped up.

‘Always fancied myself as a green muscle-bound monster,’ Julius said, ‘so I’m going to be the one who risks life and limb, or rather, life and noggin by poking my head
through the hole.’

Julius stroked his whiskers with glee. A few of the scouts looked crestfallen. ‘Tell you what,’ he added, ‘we’ll take turns at poking our heads through. An old man like
me can only take so many soakings.’

That seemed to cheer them up a bit. They reminded me of Marcus. My brother loved any excuse to get soaked. I felt a pang. Never in a thousand years did I ever think that I could miss my
eight-year-old brother! All I really ever cared about was hanging out with my friends. I could tell you how Mia was feeling every second of the day because we were always together. Jackson’s
thoughts were harder to fathom, but it was always fun trying to work him out.

I didn’t have a single friend here, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to be around for much longer and no friends meant that there was no one to hurt you.

The lawn was getting crowded. I took a closer look at Netherby Hall. It was a huge mansion house, built in a crumbling pink stone. There were two large bay windows at the front and a huge front
door. The vast front lawn was filled with stalls and had a brass band in one corner. Someone had lit a barbecue and small curls of white smoke and a smell of fried onions filled the air.

I felt a claw-like grip on my arm.

‘Hello, Ava,’ I said.

She prodded me and nudged me towards the house. ‘Hurry up. I’ve saved you a place. You can pay me later.’

I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. I frowned. ‘I’m not having my face painted.’

‘What are you going on about? We’re going on a tour of the house. Hugh Netherby opens it only once a year. It’s a real bun-struggle to get a place, so come on.’

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I couldn’t care less what the inside of Netherby Hall looked like.

Ava began chatting to the two ladies from the charity shop. She introduced them as Muriel and Gina from the Rampant Romantics. It was hard to tell who was who because they had identical
hairstyles.

I made a mental note never to go to Ava’s for a haircut, then asked, ‘Who are the Netherbys?’ I’d never got round to asking Julius.

Ava explained. ‘The Netherby family has lived on the site for centuries. They own most of the land round here, which is why everything is called after them. There was a wobble in the
nineteenth century following the tragic early death of Eveline. The estate passed on to some distant cousin who’d been working as a poor clerk in London.’

‘Eveline was a famous beauty, but she died before she could marry and provide a son and heir. Struck down by consumption, she was. Just faded away,’ Muriel added, shaking her head
sadly.

‘I can never understand why women couldn’t inherit,’ I said, as we walked into the main entrance hall.

‘We are the weaker sex, don’t you know!’ Muriel said, and they all giggled.

Ava nudged me and whispered, ‘That’s why both their husbands died years ago and we’re still tough as old boots.’ She ran her finger across a piece of furniture and
tutted.

Gina nodded in agreement. ‘Needs a good clean.’

The entrance hall had a dusty, shabby look, but it was still pretty amazing. The walls were covered in a dark wood panelling and the flagstone floor was covered with faded Turkish rugs.

Our tour guide, Sheila, arrived. We were allowed to see the private garden, salon, dining room and a long gallery. After a while, I got fed up of being herded around, so I left the
‘gals’ clucking over a hideous china tea set and sneaked back to take a closer look at the gallery.

Although the room was deserted it didn’t feel empty. It had absorbed so much life over the centuries that it was filled with atmosphere. The sunlight shone through the windows, causing the
specks of dust to flicker and dance in its beams. My footsteps creaked on the floorboards as I walked down the long gallery.

I stopped at the portrait of Eveline Netherby. She was dressed up in a fantastic ball-gown and jewels, but there was no aristocratic smugness about her. One of her hands lightly grasped a fan
that looked as if it was about to fall. The fingers of her other hand gently touched a jewelled brooch that was pinned to her dress close to her heart. She was smiling, but her eyes ached with
sadness.

A floorboard creaked. I assumed that it was Ava, come to get me.

‘Do you think she knew she was going to die?’ I said.

There was a pause, then a familiar voice – but not Ava’s. ‘We all die one day.’

‘Not me!’ I said jokingly as I turned round to see Torso Boy standing in a pool of sunlight, holding a bunch of beautiful white roses. For a moment, before he smiled at me, it seemed
to me that his eyes had the same sadness as Eveline’s. There was something unreal about his pose, like he was a portrait that had suddenly come to life.

The sight of him made everything inside me work in slow motion, except my heart, which went into fast-forward.

His laughter broke the spell as he came close and looked at the portrait. ‘It’s a great painting, but I prefer this one.’

He walked over to the other side of the room towards a portrait of a big fat man with laughing eyes and an equally round dog. Beside them was a large telescope.

‘That’s Septimus Netherby, a rogue who spent all his youth gambling and spending the family fortune. A bad attack of the gout turned his mind to gardening and star-gazing. He planted
most of the trees around here and built the grotto and Greek temple in the garden. His best friend was Brutus, his dog. When Brutus died he built a huge mausoleum in the grounds. It’s twice
as large as the one he had built for his wife. His telescope is still in the library.’

‘You know a lot,’ I said, trying not to look at him.

‘I spend a lot of time here.’

‘I’d better go and catch up with Ava,’ I said, but I didn’t move. It was like he was a magnet and I was a lump of metal.

There was an awkward silence. He looked down at the roses and said, ‘I’d better do something with these.’

We both turned away at the same time. He put the flowers in a large Chinese vase and we left the gallery by separate exits.

At least I wasn’t wearing a cobweb headdress or spluttering this time.

I caught up with Ava and the gals in the gardens behind the house. Sheila, our tour guide, was explaining in great detail about the grotto and the temple and how they were called follies. I
wasn’t really listening and neither were Ava and the gals. They were swanning round the small Greek-style temple, pretending they were in a costume drama.

‘Oh, Mr Darcy,’ Ava said with a sigh, and wrung her hands. The others giggled.

A few people gave them dirty looks and Sheila went ‘SSH!’, but they just ignored them and carried on.

I wandered back to the front of the house and around the stalls for a while. There was a cosy, warm atmosphere, as everyone seemed to know each other. If Mia had been here we would have formed a
tight unit and I’d probably be laughing now at how boring and childish it all was. Mia always hated events like this.

Someone tugged at my sleeve. ‘Jenna, you have to have a go on my stall,’ said Aurora, looking desperate. ‘Everyone else is chicken.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ I said.

‘You have to try and eat one of my special doughnuts in eight seconds.’ She held up a large sugar-coated ring doughnut.

‘Easy,’ I said. I was feeling a bit hungry anyway.

‘Without licking your lips,’ Aurora added. ‘If you do it, you win a pound.’

‘Easy . . .’ I said, a bit less convincingly this time. Fortunately, Aurora’s stall was in a quiet corner and there weren’t many people about.

As I began to bite into the largest, sugariest doughnut I’d ever seen, a group of scouts appeared and Aurora led them in a loud chorus of, ‘Go Jenna, go Jenna!’