A Kiss in the Dark (12 page)

‘Shhh! Don’t let Tallulah hear you talk that way! I don’t want her worrying about her parents splitting up.’ Kate covered Tallulah’s ears with her mittened hands.

‘So let me get this straight. Tallulah the snowpig is our …
baby
? How exactly does that work? Actually, now you mention it … she
does
look a little like you. There’s a definite similarity in the nose area …’

Kate grabbed a handful of snow and started packing it into a ball between her hands so I did the same. ‘Say that one more time and I guarantee this
snowball is headed right for your face. Also, Tallulah’s adopted, but I really didn’t want her to find out this way. Look, she’s crying little icy tears. How could you do this to our baby?!’

I threw my snowball first. Not very hard and I made sure not to aim for her face. It hit her shoulder and she looked outraged. She threw hers and it missed by a mile. Her next shot hit me right in the face though. She’d packed the snow pretty hard so it hurt a bit. I decided to make the most of the situation and fell over as if I’d been shot. I pretended to gasp for air. ‘Tell … tell Tallulah I’m sorry and I love her … I … I could never have asked for a better snowpig. I …’ Then I closed my eyes and let my head loll to the side.

Kate fell to her knees next to me. ‘Noooooooo!’ I sneaked a look out of one eye to see her shaking her fist at the sky. ‘Why, God, whyyyyy? How could you do this to me?! How could you leave me all alone to raise our little pig?! I’ll never forget you, Alex! And I’ll make sure Tallulah grows up knowing exactly the kind of man you were. Rest in peace, my darling.’ She kissed my lips and I grabbed her and kissed her back, hard. We rolled around in the snow, laughing and kissing. I didn’t even care that there were people around; I was so wrapped up in the magic of us.

Kate started trying to tickle my armpits, which wasn’t that easy when she was wearing gloves and I was wrapped up in about a million layers. I tried to grab her hands but somehow she managed to pin me down – she was stronger than she looked, that girl.

So there we were, lying in the snow on top of Calton Hill, cold wetness starting to seep into my jeans. And Kate suddenly stopped laughing so I stopped laughing too. Then she said the exact words that had been about to come tumbling out of my mouth. ‘I love you.’ Kate looked almost surprised by her own words, but then she nodded, as if to confirm that she meant them.

I looked up at her. Her face was framed by the perfectly blue winter sky, her nose was red as Rudolph’s and her hat was almost falling off her head. I wondered if I blinked really hard whether I could take a mental picture and store it in my brain to bring out whenever life was bleak.

‘I love you too.’ There was no hint of uncertainty in my voice.

I’ve never seen a smile more beautiful in my life. Her eyes were sparkling, practically fizzing with happiness. Then she got this mischievous look in her eyes and said, ‘Really?’

And I said, ‘No, not really. I actually find you kind of repulsive.’

Kate grabbed a fistful of snow and shoved it in my face.

*

I was in love with a girl and she was in love with me.
This
was what people talked about, what songs were written about, what made the world go round, apparently. Now I could understand what all the fuss was about. I wanted to stop random people in the street and tell them I was in love. But I didn’t, because that would have been weird. I couldn’t tell
anyone
. I’ve never been much of a talker, but I suddenly wished I did have someone to talk to – someone other than Kate. I had no one. Jonni and Fitz hadn’t been in touch for weeks and there were no likely candidates at school.

I wished I had a best friend to confide in, someone I could bore senseless with how amazing Kate was. It was strange – being in love somehow made me feel more like a girl. I wanted to gossip over steaming mugs of hot chocolate and laugh about how lame I was and maybe have someone to help me choose a Christmas present for Kate. But then I remembered that Kate’s ‘best’ friend was Astrid, and sometimes no one is infinitely preferable to the wrong someone.

Kate told me that Astrid had been really nice
recently, which made me wonder why you’d be friends with someone whose niceness was so rare that it was worth commenting on. Stella was out of favour, apparently. Astrid reckoned she was jealous that Kate and her both had boyfriends now. Kate didn’t think that was the case, but she’d always been closer to Astrid than to Stella so she wasn’t all that bothered.

It was hard to work out how Kate felt about Astrid. When she told me some of the ridiculous things Astrid said, you could tell she
knew
they were ridiculous. But I think being friends with Astrid was so ingrained in her that she thought she had to put up with her forever. I guess that’s what happens when you choose your best friend the first day of primary school (or in Kate’s case, your best friend chooses you).

Astrid asked a lot of questions about me, apparently. She hadn’t been all that interested before we met – too wrapped up in Justin – but that all changed. Suddenly she was keen to know where Kate and I met and exactly how we got together. Kate thought that her best friend had suddenly realized how a best friend should act and was trying to make up for her previous lack of interest. I wasn’t so sure. I was 99% sure that she hadn’t suspected the truth,
because if she had she’d have said something to Kate, surely? Still, there was that nagging nugget of doubt I couldn’t quite shift. I had a bad feeling about that girl.

I managed to see Kate a lot at the start of the Christmas holidays – I told my parents I was spending loads of time at the library and by some miracle they believed me. Lying was second nature now.

The snow had turned to slush within a couple of days and now there were only a few patches of dirty grey ice here and there. No chance of a white Christmas if the weather forecast was to be believed. Dad always kept me up to date on the weather forecast – his favourite thing in the world was moaning when they got it wrong (which according to him was almost all the time). I’ve never really understood old people’s obsession with the weather. Who cares if it’s raining or windy or cold? Put a coat on and stop whining.

Kate and I had arranged to exchange presents on Christmas Eve. It was hard to escape the house
because Mum was so adamant that Christmas was family time, and various relatives were due to descend on our house and eat everything in sight. Lucky for me Mum had forgotten to buy the chipolatas to make the pigs in blankets to go with the turkey. I volunteered to get them from M&S. It had to be M&S or Waitrose – no other chipolatas would do, according to Mum. Jamie had been in bed with a severe case of man flu since he’d got back from uni so I didn’t have to worry about him wanting to tag along. He called out from his sick bed in the most pathetic voice imaginable, asking me to get him some orange juice – ‘the proper stuff … with bits in!’

So I put Kate’s presents in my courier bag and legged it up the hill to Marks. It was carnage. It seemed like there was only one turkey left in the whole shop; the woman who’d bagged it was cradling it in her arms like it was her first-born child and Rumpelstiltskin was hot on her heels. I managed to get the chipolatas and the orange juice, along with an impulse-buy chocolate snowman for Kate. Then I ran up the stairs two at a time and escaped into the relative calm of Princes Street. ‘Calm’ wasn’t exactly the word though. I swear you could see the panic in the eyes of most of the shoppers as they tried to find something (ANYTHING) to buy. People wasting their money all
around me, trying to prove they loved their wives or husbands or whoever. Everyone should just hand over all their spare cash to charity and be done with it; the world would be a better place for it.

Kate was already there when I arrived at the cafe on Cockburn Street. A bunch of tourists were just leaving – they looked like they were dressed for an arctic expedition. There was a flashing red and green sign up behind the counter saying ‘Erry Christ as!’ due to a few blown bulbs. A massive plastic reindeer with peeling fur stood next to the fake fire. It was a pretty ropey-looking place, but the pastries were out of this world and Kate had recently developed a serious weakness for pain au chocolat.

Kate was facing away from the door so she didn’t see me come in. I leaned over and brushed her hair to the side, kissing her neck. She jumped and squealed. I hadn’t noticed she was wearing headphones. ‘Oh my gosh, you scared the life out of me! I thought one of those Italian guys had taken a liking to me!’ I loved it when she said things like ‘oh my gosh’ like she was straight out of an Enid Blyton book.

‘They’d have had me to answer to if they had.’ I sat down on the sofa next to her.

‘Awwww, my little tough guy, ready to protect my honour!’ She pinched my cheek. ‘Can I have my
present now? Please please please? The suspense is killing me!’

I laughed. ‘Patience, patience. Also … I told you not to get your hopes up! I’m rubbish at presents.’ I shrugged out of my coat but left the beanie on. The fake fire wasn’t exactly giving out much heat.

‘I find it very hard to believe that someone as thoughtful as you is rubbish at buying presents. Let me get you a drink and then we’ll just see about that, OK?’

I asked for a tea and a pain au chocolat and Kate looked at me suspiciously. ‘You’re just ordering that so I can have some of yours, aren’t you?’

I grinned. ‘Well,
one
pain au chocolat never seems to be quite enough for you, so I figured one and half might do the trick.’

‘Noooo! I need to fast before tomorrow. I don’t know why Mum insists on cooking enough Christmas dinner for a small army when there’s just the two of us.’

‘My dad’s just as bad. He likes to cook extra just in case there are unexpected guests. As if that’s something that ever actually happens at Christmas.’

‘I wish
I
could come to your house for Christmas dinner.’ Even though I knew it was never going to happen, the thought still made me feel panicky.

‘It’s total chaos – you’d hate it.’

‘I wouldn’t.’ She suddenly looked a bit melancholy, which was the last thing I wanted.

‘Anyway … why don’t I go and order and you just sit there and lower your expectations. I can’t deal with all this pressure.’ I smiled and kissed her quickly.

That seemed to snap Kate out of whatever she was thinking. Kate reached up to her ear and made a twisting motion with her fingers. ‘OK, expectations have been dialled down. I would now officially be thrilled to bits with one of those toilet-roll holders … you know the ones? There’s a little doll on top and you put the loo roll under her dress?’

I stood up, shaking my head and smiling. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, so I’m afraid you’re all out of luck when it comes to toilet roll holders.’

‘Boo! I’ve always wanted one.’

‘Seriously?’

‘No.’

I rolled my eyes and went up to the counter. The guy told me they were closing in forty-five minutes so he’d only serve us if we’d be gone by then. Not exactly brimming with Christmas spirit. You’d think he’d have been in a hurry to serve me but he did everything at snail’s pace – like he was punishing me for stopping him closing up early.

I made Kate wait until we’d finished our pastries. She tried to pretend she didn’t want half of mine, but she caved after thirty seconds.

‘I think you should open your presents first.’ She was clapping her hands in excitement. ‘Oh my word, I hope you like them …’

‘
Them
? I thought we’d agreed we’d only get each other
one
present?’

‘I know, I know, but one of them didn’t cost anything so I thought that didn’t really count. I mean, it counts … because … well, I hope you like it. But anyway, don’t be annoyed, OK?’

‘I’m not annoyed.’ I paused and smiled. ‘Because I got you two presents as well.’

Kate beamed. ‘I
knew
it! Good job we’re as bad as each other, isn’t it?’ She handed me two parcels: a tiny one and a bigger, squishy one. The wrapping paper had snowmen on it and she’d drawn a snowpig next to a snowman on the bigger parcel. ‘Open the little one first.’

I felt nervous as I struggled to open the parcel – she’d really gone to town on the Sellotape. I worried my reaction wouldn’t be right. If I wasn’t enthusiastic enough, Kate would think I hated the present and if I was
too
enthusiastic she’d also think I hated it and was overcompensating. It was lose/lose.

It was a USB flash drive keyring in the shape of Yoda; Kate knew I was a massive Star Wars fan. It was pretty cool. Kate was watching me closely so I smiled as genuinely as I could and told her I loved it. She started laughing so I figured I’d well and truly failed the reaction test. ‘What’s so funny?!’

‘Your face! You do know it’s not just a flash drive, right? There’s something
on
the flash drive, you numpty.’

I could feel myself blushing. ‘Oh. Yeah, I knew that. Of course. Um … what is it?’

‘Yeah right, sure you did.’ She rummaged in her bag to take out her phone. ‘I have a copy on here. I thought we could listen to it together. It’s not very good or anything. I just thought you might like it. And you said you wanted to …’ Now Kate was the one blushing. She was right – we really were as bad as each other.

We each took an earbud and Kate fiddled with her phone. Before she hit ‘play’ she said, ‘I really hope you like it but it’s totally OK if you don’t. You don’t need to pretend or anything. We can just forget this ever happened and you can open your other present, because I’m almost sure you’ll like that one–’ I grabbed the phone from her and pressed ‘play’ myself. Otherwise we’d have been there all night. Or
at least until old Scrooge behind the counter chucked us out.

I recognized the song straightaway, even though the version I knew kicked off with thumping drums. It was a piano arrangement of the last song Saving Serenity had played at the gig the night we met. The song we both loved, which had become ‘our’ song, after much debate over milkshakes one day.

I closed my eyes and listened right to the end. Then I hit play and listened again, even though I could see Kate looking at me anxiously out of the corner of my eye. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.