Expecting to Fly (2 page)

‘OK, so what about you, Zahrah?’ asked Brook. ‘What do you want to be really?’

‘Lawyer, I think. I want to make a difference. I want to be independent, that’s for sure.’

‘And you, Leela? You’re being very quiet,’ Brook said.

Leela shrugged. ‘Big decision. Maybe medicine. I don’t think I want to work as a pharmacist like Mum and Dad. Like you Zahrah, I’d like to make a difference. Maybe go abroad,
help in a poorer country.’

I was beginning to feel inadequate. I had no idea what I wanted to do or be, never mind do anything so worthy-sounding. I hadn’t given much thought to the future – to goals or
careers. In the last few years, my family had moved around so much that my main concern had been settling in one place, and that goal had only been achieved so recently that I was still enjoying it
too much to think about what was next.

My phone bleeped that I had a message. I picked it up from the table and glanced at the screen.

Cn U meet me? Have smthng I wnt to say. Joe X

Joe X?
I thought.
Hmm. Interesting. X? What does he mean by that?
He’d never signed himself
Joe X
before. Always Joe. Just Joe. No
X
. I felt my mind go into
overdrive. What could he want? Whenever we’d got close before, he’d backed off big time or given me the ‘I don’t do commitment’ speech, sometimes before getting
involved with some older pretty girl so that I got the message – he didn’t do commitment with
me
. So what now? I felt my stomach turn over. I so hoped that I wasn’t going
to get dumped before anything had even got started.

Joe asked me to meet him in Starbucks on the High Road. Curiously, it was where I had first seen him when I came to live in London in the summer. He had been sitting in the
window looking über-cool and handsome and I had put my shades on so that he wouldn’t notice me looking at him, then I had snapped a photo of him to send to my mate Erin in Ireland. She
had made me promise to send pics of the local talent. As I approached the café this time, there he was again, in exactly the same place and looking every bit as cute, though his hair was
shorter now – it had been on his shoulders back then. I remembered thinking what great bone structure he had and how he looked thoughtful, like he’d be interesting to talk to and he is.
Funny how life turns out
, I thought as I went in to join him.
Almost eight months later and he’s so familiar to me now
. I felt my stomach tighten as he looked up, saw me and
smiled. He’d had the same effect on me since day one. I melt inside and feel light-headed. I so hoped he wasn’t going to give me the ‘let’s be friends’ line. I’d
heard that first after we’d got close in the autumn term – he’d backed off big time and given me a speech about not wanting to get involved with someone whose aunt was a friend of
his mother in case it didn’t work out and I got hurt blah de blah.
What now?
I asked myself.
Maybe I should come out with the ‘I don’t want to do commitment’ line
first in order to save face
.

Joe got up from the couch and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek at the moment I sat down. His lips skimmed the top of my head as I slid into my seat. ‘Oops, sorry, hello,’ I said and
bobbed up to kiss him on the cheek, but he leaned down again at the same time and my head banged into his chin. ‘Er, oops again,’ I said.

Joe laughed. ‘Smooth, Ruspoli.’

‘That’s me,’ I said, as I flopped back on to the couch. ‘Silver-tongued, smooth as a . . . smooth as a . . .’

‘Baby’s bottom?’

‘Not the words I was looking for. Smooth as a —’

‘Smoothie?’

‘Smooth thing. Person. Type who doesn’t bang heads, teeth —’

I didn’t finish the sentence, because Joe leaned over, put his hand firmly on the back of my neck, pulled me to him and kissed me. Properly. On the mouth. Whoa. In front of everyone. Fab.
Any body part that hadn’t melted before, now turned to mush. I was a mush smoothie. When we drew back to catch our breath, he grinned. ‘Third time lucky.’

‘Oomf,’ I replied. I could always be relied on for scintillating conversation when Joe turned the charm on.

He didn’t appear to notice that I had turned into a puddle. He pointed at the counter in the middle of the café. ‘Drink?’

‘Muh. Chocolate milkshake,’ I said and groped in my pocket to find my purse.

‘My treat,’ said Joe and set off for the counter.

What the heckity hoola?
I thought.
What’s going on?
I could see two girls, Nicky and Ruby, from my year at school over at a table at the back of the café. Joe had
kissed me in public – that would soon get round seeing as he is easily in the top five boy babes in the Sixth Form. As he stood in the queue, I heard a phone ring. It was his. I clearly heard
him say, ‘Oh hi, Mia.’ He gestured to me that he was going outside to take the call. I nodded.
Now what?
I wondered. Mia was one of his exes. Why was she phoning him? And why had
he gone outside to take the call? I could see him at the bus stop outside talking. He had his back turned to me so I couldn’t see his expression. Was this why he had contacted me? To tell me
that he was getting back together with Mia? They had dated for a while then broke up not long after term started last year. Was she calling to check that he was telling me to back off or something?
He glanced round to see if I was watching him. I immediately looked away.
Must look busy, cool, lalalala
, I told myself and pulled out my mobile so that I had something to do. I had a bit of
money left on it so I called Erin. Luckily, she was there and I quickly filled her in on the situation. As well as being my best mate, she was good at giving advice.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Maintain cool. I have been reading a self-help book that my aunt Mary gave me for Christmas. It says we girls must be independent in order to be free. Not to
fear solitude.’

I knew I could rely on Erin to talk some New Age gobbledegook to distract me. She chatted away while I watched Joe re-enter the café and take his place in the queue again. He looked over
and gave me the thumbs-up. I nodded back like I was oh-so-busy with my phone call, too.

‘Call me later with all the details,’ said Erin. ‘Remember, we are free. We don’t need boys. We are independent free spirits.’

‘Free. Independent,’ I agreed, but I crossed my fingers as I said it. ‘Call you later.’ I didn’t want to be free. I wanted to be Joe’s love slave and I bet
she was only saying that anyway because there was no one she fancied in Ireland at the moment. I remembered what Brook had said earlier about Joe falling under my spell. Maybe that’s what I
should do. Put a spell on him, do some magic or witchcraft.
Trouble is
, I thought,
I don’t know how
. I closed my eyes and made a wish instead.
I wish I was Joe’s
girlfriend. I wish I was Joe’s girlfriend. I wish I was Joe’s girlfriend. Hocus pocus, eeny meeny miney mo and catch a falling star. Amen.

He reappeared minutes later holding a tray with two chocolate milkshakes and a huge double-choc chip cookie.

‘Death by chocolate,’ he said as he sat down next to me.

‘Only way to go.’

‘Who were you talking to?’ he asked.

‘Oh no one. You?’

‘Mia,’ he replied. ‘I’d borrowed a pile of her art books and she needs them back. Sometimes the signal in here is weak. Yours worked, did it?’

I nodded.

‘I’m surprised. Mine never does in here – that’s why I went outside. Different networks, I guess.’

Hmm. He appeared to be on the level. No mention of getting back together with Mia. Just art books.

‘So. Ruspoli,’ Joe said, after we had drunk some of our milkshakes. ‘Down to business. I’ve been thinking. I have a proposition for you.’

‘Oh. OK, shoot,’ I said. Last year we’d worked on the same team painting scenery for the school show. Maybe he wanted me to do something like that again.

‘Me. You. How about it?’ he asked and looked right into my eyes in an intense way that made my toes curl. I got the feeling it was my turn to say something, but my brain was trying
to take in what he had said and work out if there was a catch.

‘Me. You. How about what?’

He pointed at himself then at me. ‘Couple. Us. Let’s go for it. I’ve been thinking. New year, new chapter – all that bollards,’ he said, then slid down on to one
knee. ‘Oh Ruspoli,’ he said in a silly high voice. ‘I cannot resist your seductive charms any longer. I give in. I am yours to do with what you like.’

I glanced over my shoulder. Nicky and Ruby were staring, taking it all in. Part of me was delighted that they’d seen, they are such gossips. This would definitely get around school. I
turned back to Joe.

‘Serious?’ I asked.

He got back up on to the couch. ‘Serious. No more messing.’

Heckity hoola
, I thought as I drained my glass. Heaven. Joe. Chocolate. It didn’t get any better.

‘So?’ he asked.

Be cool, be cool
, I told myself. ‘I may need time to consider —’

He leaned forward and kissed me again. Mush. Chocolate mush. My brain was chocolate mush.

‘OK,’ I said or, rather, I tried to say. It came out as a squeak. But yay, New Year’s resolution number one. Sorted. Maybe Brook was right. Maybe I am witchee woman.

I could hear voices coming from the kitchen when I got home from seeing Joe. I crossed the hall and listened at the door.

‘Of course he must come,’ I heard Mum say. ‘Sarah, this is your home, not ours. We always knew that it was a temporary arrangement.’

‘But where will you go? No, Fleur, family comes first.’ Aunt Sarah’s voice.

I didn’t mean to stay and eavesdrop; I’d intended to race upstairs to tell my news about Joe to Leela, Zahrah and Brook (I’d already told Erin as soon as I’d left Joe
outside the café) but Aunt Sarah’s words made me freeze. ‘Where will you go?’ she’d asked. Go? You? Where? I had to find out what she and Mum were talking about.
Please God, don’t let whatever it is mean that we have to move again
, I prayed. That would be just my luck. Joe wants to go out with me and Mum and Dad make plans to move to the other
side of the planet again.

‘You’ve been more than generous and patient,’ said Mum. ‘It can’t have been easy having the four of us invade your space, plus Ethan, Jess and the twins and Lewis
at weekends.’

‘I’ve loved having you,’ said Aunt Sarah. ‘This house is meant for a family. It was far too big for Kate and me and as you know, even though she’s only in the Sixth
Form, she’s rarely home these days.’

‘Exactly,’ said Mum. ‘Meant for a family and so it will be when Tom and his boys move in with you.’

Ah
, I thought,
that’s what it’s about. Tom. Aunt Sarah’s new boyfriend
. She’d been seeing him since the autumn and had kept quiet about it at first. Said
she didn’t want to jinx things by introducing him too soon, but he seems to have lasted the course. We met him briefly at Christmas and again for a longer time at New Year. He was OK, clearly
taken with Aunt Sarah. His wife died five years ago leaving him with two boys, aged ten and eight. We haven’t met them yet. They live in Wimbledon, I think. It had been nice to see Aunt Sarah
happy with someone. She hadn’t dated much since she split up with Kate’s dad, which had always seemed a waste to me because Aunt Sarah’s so stylish and attractive.
But why
would Tom and the boys move in here?
I wondered.

I pushed the door open and Mum and Aunt Sarah jumped, like they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t.

‘What are you talking about?’ I asked.

‘Oh nothing,’ said Mum.

For sisters, they look completely different. Mum takes after Grandma and is a tall English rose with light auburn hair, whereas Sarah takes after Grandpa and is smaller and curvier with dark
hair. Their style is different too. Mum’s boho hippie in velvets and jeans, whereas Aunt Sarah wears well-cut linen or wrap dresses with expensive jewellery.

‘I heard you. You were talking about moving.’

Mum got up from the chair by the Aga, came over and gave me a hug. ‘Hey, don’t worry, hon.’

‘Don’t worry? Don’t
worry
? Dylan and I have only just got settled at school. I’ve only just made friends. Do you know how difficult that is when you’re the
new girl in any year after Year Seven? And, and . . .’ I wasn’t going to say, And I’ve just been asked to go steady with the one person I’ve fancied since last summer who
happens to be one of the most sought-after boys at our school, because I felt tears come to my eyes. A wave of anxiety flooded over me and, even though I knew I’d sounded whiney, I
couldn’t help it.