Authors: Jenny Downham
‘Well, I’m sorry anyway.’ She meant for everything – the cottage, Karyn, all of it. None of it was fair. She wiped her face with her sleeve and gave him what she hoped was an upbeat smile. ‘So, what shall we do now?’
He laughed. ‘Wait there. I’ll be back.’
He went out of the lounge, down the hallway and out the door. She heard him scrunch down the gravelled path towards the gate. She sat on her gran’s chair by the empty fireplace and waited for what would happen next. He wasn’t long, came back in with a pile of newspaper and some logs and sticks in a basket.
‘I noticed the shed when we came in,’ he said. ‘I thought there might be wood.’
He ripped up sheets of paper, screwed them into balls and put them in the grate. He built a pyramid around them with twigs and stacked larger sticks around that.
She leaned forward on the chair watching him. ‘How do you always know what to do?’
He grinned. ‘Every bloke knows how to build a fire.’
She didn’t think that was true.
Mikey got out his lighter and lit the paper. She sat next to him on the rug as the flames took hold.
‘There’s plenty of wood,’ he said. ‘We can dry our clothes as well.’
He began to unlace his trainers. She wondered if his heart was slamming as fast as hers.
All
her clothes were wet. How many were they taking off? She pulled her own trainers off and placed them next to his on the hearth. They peeled off their socks and laid them next to their shoes. She unzipped the jacket he’d lent her, knew he was looking as she carefully hung it over the chair so the heat could reach it. She watched him pull his hoodie off and spread it out on the floor. He was only wearing a vest top underneath.
‘Is that a tattoo?’
A small green snake with a red tongue writhed on his shoulder as he lifted his arm to show her. She traced the tattoo with her finger and he watched her. His skin was soft and she didn’t want to stop touching him. But she couldn’t go on for ever, so she pulled her hand away and put it back on her lap.
They sat there looking at each other. He looked away first.
‘You think there’s any food hidden away?’ he said.
‘I doubt it.’
He smiled as if he didn’t believe her. ‘Show me.’
He was right. There were some potatoes in a basket at the bottom of the larder. He wrapped them in silver foil and shoved them under the fire. They played childish games while they waited for them – Noughts and Crosses and Hangman. She found a pack of cards and taught him to play Rummy and he taught her Go Fish. It was like a siege and they were hostages.
When they got bored of games, they lay next to the fire on their backs and looked at the ceiling. Spider webs shivered in each of the four corners. There were cracks all over the plaster and the paint was yellow from her grandfather’s pipe. It made Ellie sad. They lay there for ages not saying a word, not touching at all. She cheered herself up by sneaking looks at him. There was something about him that made her dizzy – the dark of his hair, the brown of his eyes, the angles of him lying next to her.
This is real
, she thought.
This is real
.
She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to say,
Kiss me, please, do it soon
.
But if she said that, then he’d think she was easy.
Instead she said, ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’
He was thinking she’d probably never been with a boy before. He was thinking he’d never been with a girl who’d never been with anyone else. He was wondering why that was freaking him out. Lying next to her in front of the fire was stirring him up, and the longer they lay, the more he wanted to touch her. But what if he made a move and he’d mis-read the signs and she didn’t want him at all? Or what if he made a move and she
did
want him, but then he was rubbish and she hated it? Whenever she was asked about her very first time she’d say,
Oh, it was shit
.
She treated her body as if it was really special. He’d noticed it at the river and again today – how she kept changing the position of a strap or pulling buttons shut or yanking her dress lower so he couldn’t see bits of her. It was like she had something hidden and if you got in there, you’d be really privileged. It made him think of that line in the Spider-Man movie about power and responsibility. It was doing his head in.
‘I was thinking,’ he said, ‘about those potatoes. You reckon they’re ready?’
He dug them out with a fork while Ellie got plates from the kitchen. She came back with salt, pepper and, by some miracle, an unopened tube of cheese spread.
‘Found it in the herb rack,’ she said. She looked proud. Her face lit up with it.
They sat together on the carpet to eat, their plates on their knees. The potatoes were delicious.
‘This was a good idea,’ she said.
‘Coming here, or eating?’
‘Both.’
They smiled at each other. There was a sweet shyness about her that he really liked. It was as if his heart got rubbed clean looking at her, like it was possible to start again.
You’re so pretty
, he wanted to say. But he didn’t, because that didn’t seem enough.
‘I’m not sure about the cheese spread,’ she said. ‘It tastes like it’s only a molecule away from plastic. You know, if you put a pot of margarine on the lawn, not a single insect will touch it because it doesn’t recognize it as food?’
He laughed. ‘How do you know that?’
‘From Science.’
‘I don’t remember anything from school. The only lesson I liked was Food Tech and the rest was the most boring rubbish I ever had to listen to.’
‘You hated it that much?’
‘Don’t you?’
She shrugged. ‘Some things I like and the rest I put up with. Did you take any exams?’
‘They put me in for five, but I only got Food Tech and ICT.’
‘Did you revise?’
‘Not really. There was always something going on that seemed more important. You know – with my mum and sisters and everything.’
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
‘Pass your plate,’ he said. ‘I’ll take it out if you’re done.’
He might not have hundreds of GCSEs, but he could build a fire, make food, clear up, which had to be worth something.
The water hadn’t been disconnected, but it came out rust-coloured and he had to run the tap for ages. He rinsed the plates, gave them a shake and put them back in the cupboard. If anyone noticed they’d been here, they might not be able to come again, and he wanted to. There was a pint glass in the cupboard and he filled it with tap water and drank it straight down. It tasted fine, even though the colour was still weird. He filled the glass again and took it in for her.
‘Here,’ he said.
He sat back down on the carpet and watched her drink. He liked the way her throat moved, the sound of water falling into her. He liked it so much that he leaned right over and laid his head on her shoulder.
She laughed. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Listening to you.’
He could feel her breath on his face.
‘What do I sound like?’ she whispered.
‘Beautiful.’
He felt like a junkie might feel as he leaned in to kiss her.
She’d thought of it, dreamed of it, and here it was – like a slow drowning as his lips touched hers. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, could hear the pulse at her own neck thundering. It was how it should’ve been all along, and why had they wasted hours without touching at all?
Kissing Mikey McKenzie on the carpet in her grandparents’ cottage, the world felt more intimate and more exactly right than Ellie had ever guessed it could. It was like a shape had chosen her and shifted her from ordinary to special. She’d run like an animal through the rain and gone to find him. She’d caught a bus and brought him here.
It began to get gloomy outside. It would get darker and darker and later and later. It was a long bus ride back. There was no landline or mobile signal, there were no neighbours and nobody knew they were there.
Every now and then a picture of home would leak in – her father’s furious face, her mother’s disappointed one, the stabbed look in Tom’s eyes. The three of them would have eaten Sunday lunch with the solicitor by now. They’d be drinking coffee and talking about her, wondering where she was.
But the longer she kissed Mikey, the less important these things became.
He stroked her hair. She dared to touch his hip. There was a crazy flare under her fingers where her skin touched his. She buried herself in his neck and breathed in the boy smell of him.
‘I can’t get close enough to you,’ she said.
He looked at her with dark eyes, his breathing like an engine. He looked like he was sinking, like he couldn’t help himself as he reached to kiss her again. It made her want to laugh out loud. She did this to him.
She
did. Ellie Parker. Never, ever had she dreamed she could feel so alive.
She said, ‘I haven’t ever …’ as he began to unbutton her dress, but then she gave up, because, in fact, she wanted him to unbutton it. It shocked her that this was true. How could she want this when she’d never done anything more than kiss a boy before?
He said, ‘You want me to stop?’
She shook her head.
‘We can just kiss,’ he said. ‘We don’t have to do anything else.’
‘I don’t want to stop.’
Every girl knows if you get into a situation with a boy who has had sex already, then he will want to have sex with you. He will push at your boundaries. If you say no to a boy like this, he will try and get you to change your mind.
But she wasn’t saying no.
She’d broken into her grandparents’ cottage and her rules were crumbling to dust. She’d known Mikey for less than eight weeks and this was only their second date.
‘Are you sure?’ he said.
She nodded.
Then.
He was on his knees and he held out his hand to her. She sat up and together they slid the dress from her shoulders. It was the blue dress she’d worn at the party the first time she’d spoken to him properly. That felt like years ago, like another life.
And how easy that life slipped off.
He knew he was supposed to take it slow, but all she had left was bra, jeans, knickers. Three things. He was burning with how much he wanted her. He reached out for the buckle on her belt.
‘Wait,’ she said.
She put her hand over his. Had he gone too far? Too fast? If this was Sienna, they’d have done the business by now and be having a fag and talking about nothing. But it was different with Ellie. He was whimpering like a dog inside, and the only way forward was to let her decide what happened next. He wanted to yank those jeans right off her. He wanted to know if her knickers matched the black lace of her bra. He wanted to tell her he probably had a condom somewhere and that everything was under control. But he didn’t want to scare her.
He said, ‘Am I going too fast?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not that.’
‘What is it then?’
‘I lied to the police.’
His heart sank. Why wasn’t anything ever simple? She was in front of him, confessing, and he didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to kiss her.
‘When I made my first statement I said I was asleep all night, and I wasn’t. I’m scared that when you know how important that is, you’re going to hate me.’
‘I won’t ever hate you.’
‘I hope not.’ She touched his belly. Up. Gently. Her fingers ran over the ridges of his ribcage. ‘I want to help Karyn.’
‘I know that.’
She said, ‘So you think this is a good idea then, you and me?’
He said, ‘Yes.’
Then he said, ‘But only if you think so.’
She leaned in close and kissed his chin, the end of his nose, each eyelid.
She said, ‘I missed you so much. I’ve been wanting to touch you for days.’
And he was worth something. Just like that.
Her breath on his face was salt and wood smoke and something underneath that, something sweet and pulsing. He sat very still as her kisses moved to his neck, as her right hand explored his back, all the way down his spine to his belt. If he moved, she might stop and he didn’t want her to stop.
It had never crossed his mind that his body might be special too. No girl had ever taken the time to show him. Or was it that he just hadn’t let them?
Whichever it was, it was like a pulse rising.
Ellie put her hand against his chest and felt his heart through his T-shirt. He was watching her and she knew she had to decide what happened next.
For the rest of her life, he’d be her first and nothing could ever change it. And if he hated her later because of what she knew about his sister and Tom, then she’d have to live with it. It was now that mattered. Right now. Right here. She watched herself move her hand down to the edge of his T-shirt.
She’d thought it would be like speaking different languages, because he was experienced and she wasn’t. But she knew what she wanted and somehow she knew what to do. She dared to lift his T-shirt and he raised his arms like an obedient child and she pulled it over his head. She loved the feeling of power as he melted towards her, the way his breathing changed under her fingers.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ she said.
He shook his head.
They smiled at each other.
They both got it. That’s what was so great. Ellie had never known it was possible for two people to want the exact same thing at the same time.
‘Is this how it is for everyone?’ she whispered.
‘No.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I just do. I’ve never felt this with anyone before.’
‘Serious?’
‘Serious. That isn’t a line.’
‘Kiss me,’ she said.
He did. Everywhere.
Afterwards, he stroked her. It made her shiver and he liked the way her eyes got serious as he stroked the bit where her leg joined her bum. All the little hairs at the top of her thigh stood up under his fingers.
‘You cried,’ he said.
She put her hands over her face. ‘Doesn’t everyone?’
‘Only in songs.’
‘I’m embarrassed!’
‘Don’t be, it’s good. Other girls aren’t like that.’
She peered at him from between her fingers. ‘What are other girls like?’