Just a Girl, Standing in Front of a Boy (21 page)

‘Bit of a work in progress that. But it’s your song,’ he says, when he’s finished. ‘Your other song.’

I climb out of bed and I get down on the floor. I can’t do crossed-legged because my skirt is too short, so I kneel. I look into his eyes, his green eyes that are flecked with brown, and I feel my heart beating. I’m experiencing such a longing for him I must look as though I’m in pain. I’m just a girl standing, well, kneeling, in front of a boy asking him to love her. Oddly enough, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. I cup my hand to the side of his face and I lean in. Sod it, let’s see if Cher is right. We could all be dead tomorrow and then I’d at least have this moment. This kiss.

‘Jenny Taylor,’ he says softly pushing me away from him. My breath catches and already I can tell there are tears in my eyes. He doesn’t want to kiss me. How have I got this wrong? Even
I
couldn’t have got this wrong!

‘Jenny Taylor, I could kiss you all night. I would love to kiss you all night, but what I’d really like to do now is ask you out on a date tomorrow.’

‘A date!’ I gasp.

‘Yes, would you come on a date with me tomorrow?’

‘I’d love to.’

‘Do you have a preference for what we do or shall I surprise you with the itinerary.’

‘The itinerary!’ I nearly have a kitten.

‘Yes, the sequence of the day.’

‘Oh, surprise me! If you’d like to.’

‘I’d love to… I shall pick you up at midday.’

I am only capable of smiling sappily at him.

It’s really, really hot. It’s that one randomly baking day in mid June that will end up being summer. And I’m going on a date. I’m wearing a white dress, opportunity for disaster high, but at least I’ll be cool. It’s a gypsy dress, off the shoulder and above the knee and I’m wearing a battered cowboy hat and sandals. I hope I look all right. Oh, God, there he is. I race down the stairs and meet him on the street. He’s wearing a cowboy hat too. And a short-sleeved blue shirt and shorts. I want to kiss him right now, sod the date. I want to haul him back upstairs to bed. The bed that my mother didn’t sleep in last night. I know!

‘I think we must have the same stylist,’ I say, but I’m feeling shy.

‘Sack her. She’s got this one look that she gives all her clients.’

‘Does she give you the Mickey Mouse T-shirt too?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, and the grey hoodie with everything.’

‘And the lacy hot pants.’

‘Always the lacy hot pants!’ He shakes his head and laughs. ‘These are for you.’

He hands me flowers. A tumble of lilacs, pinks and greens.

‘I picked them. I wasn’t being a tight git. But I thought they’d be nice.’

‘They’re beautiful. Thank you.’

‘I would very much like to see you in those lacy hot pants. Sorry. Pervert. So,’ he runs to open the passenger door of the van for me. ‘Your carriage awaits. You look beautiful by the way.’

‘So do you,’ I whisper.

‘I organised the weather,’ he says once we’re both seated in the van. ‘Blue sky and sun, now belt up and enjoy the ride. How are you feeling musically? Sunday morning chilled? A little of bit reggae as the sun’s out? Or maybe some rock?’

‘Um.’ I think for a moment. ‘A little bit of reggae as the sun’s out.’

He flicks his eyes to me.

‘Of course, because that’s what’s in there, that’s what I had playing on the way over here. Crazy this, our similarities, don’t you think?’ Joe smiles.

‘Yeah.’

‘Good crazy or just crazy crazy?’ he asks.

‘Definitely good crazy.’ I nod. ‘I’ve just never had it before.’

‘Me neither.’

‘So why do you think we’re so alike?’

‘Well, I have a theory,’ he says.

‘I love a theory.’

‘Of course you do, because I do too.’

‘Tell me this theory,’ I say, turning in my seat slightly so I can look at him.

‘Well, I think we’re made for each other. I think the universe, God, the powers of fate or whatever is at work, made us for each other, and we had to go on our own paths and then, when we least expected it, we had to meet. Even though you were engaged to someone else, and I was working in a chemist in a small town in Tiddlesbury because I’d come to avoid distractions and stay with my uncle in the ramshackle cottage that he’d just bought and write an album. So, we had to meet. And the universe, fate, blah blah whatever didn’t want us to miss each other, so they had us wearing the same clothes, you know, so we’d pay attention, and they had you on your knees singing a rock classic. We were made the same right down to the silly names so that there’d be no doubt that we were meant to be together when we met.’

He stops speaking and I can tell he’s pleased with his theory.

‘What?’ he asks.

‘I didn’t say anything,’ I whisper. ‘I’m too busy smiling.’

‘Tell me everything about yourself.’

‘There’s nothing to tell.’

‘Ah, well, there’s no rush. You’ve got the rest of your life to tell me.’

I look at him and he winks. I laugh, but then I stop laughing.

‘There is one thing I have to tell you.’

‘What?’

‘I slept with Al, the other night. I don’t know why I’m telling you except I suppose I don’t really like secrets.’

‘I know about you and Al.’

‘How?’

‘He told me.’

‘Oh.’

‘He felt bad because he thought we liked each other.’

‘Ah.’

‘Yeah, I like Al, brilliant bloke.’

‘Hmm. We had a thing before Matt, and I think we were just putting it to bed.’

‘Literally.’

‘Yeah. But I just don’t want you to think I’m a slut. I’m not a slut. Well, Matt thinks I am. But can you be a slut if you’ve only slept with three people and one of them did it for a dare? Do you think less of me?’

‘Nooo, Fanny. Even if you’d slept with a hundred people I’d still think you were the most awesome woman on the planet. We’ve both got stories and histories, that’s life.’

‘I think you’re letting me off quite lightly. I mean I slept with my flatmate when I was engaged to someone else and daydreaming about you.’

‘Well.’ He laughs. ‘I was a bit surprised when Al called me and told me. I don’t know what I thought he was going to say but I definitely wasn’t expecting that. But do you know what, Fan, I tell you honestly. I got off the phone and laughed. One thing you’re not is dull. I admit, part of my male pride wished you’d been confused and jumped into bed with me. But I sort of just loved the impetuousness of it and I love your honesty now. Jenny Taylor, I’m not playing very hard to get. I need to work on that. I need to be a bit harder to read.’

I smile.

‘What?’

‘I didn’t say anything. I’m too busy smiling. Where are we?’

‘Ah, do you not know my secret spot?’

‘That could be misconstrued.’

‘Cheeky.’

‘How can you have a secret spot when you’ve only just moved here?’

‘Have van will find secret spot so can sit underneath tree and write songs about girl with pink hair. What colour is your hair naturally?’

‘Same as yours.’

‘Of course.’ He parks. I go to open my door.

‘Wait! Wait! I do that.’ And he hops out of the car and races round to my side to open the door. ‘Madam,’ he says, giving me his arm to help me get up. ‘I just need to get some bits from the boot.’

He trots away and reappears with a guitar strapped to his back and holding a cool box.

‘Can I take something?’

‘Nope, the lady goes hands free,’ he says as though he’s knackered and it’s heavy. ‘I can manage.’

We walk along a tiny path, squeeze through a gap between two hedges and then make our way past some trees and suddenly we’re in front of a lake. It’s not a huge lake and it’s overgrown on all sides, but there’s not a soul around and it’s so peaceful. There is no sign of man or anything man-made. It feels as though we’ve stepped back in time.

‘How did you find it?’ I ask.

‘I saw it on a map of the area. I miss the sea. I normally live by the sea. And I like a bit of water. It’s calming.’

‘My mum likes being by the sea.’

‘Yeah, there’s something powerful about standing on the edge of the land.’

‘
On the Edge of the Land
. You could call your album that.’

‘Bloody hell, I may just do that. It sort of perfectly sums up how I’m feeling at the moment.’

I was thinking the same thing.

‘Although the working title I’m using at the moment is…’

‘What?’

‘No, can’t tell you, need to play it cooler. So, anyway, I saw on the map that there was a lake here, I thought it would probably be used for fishing. It took me a few trips to find. But I persevered and one day here she was. And I’ve never seen anyone else here, which strikes me as a bit odd, so we might be attacked by dogs or shot at by snipers. For which I apologise profusely.’

‘How can you tell if it’s safe to swim in a lake?’

‘I think you have to swim in it and see if you die.’

I turn my head to look at him.

‘Shall we?’ he says as if reading my mind.

I nod.

He unbuttons his shirt. I can’t take my eyes off him. I kick my sandals off. He takes his shorts off. He’s just down to his black pants. I toss my hat off and pull my dress over my head. I stand in front of him in just my white pants and strapless bra.

‘Jenny Taylor, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.’

‘Joe King, I think I’ve…’ Been in love with you since I first set eyes on you. But I don’t say it. I run and I make a bomb into the water instead. When I come up, he’s still on the land.

‘What’s it like?’ he asks stepping nearer.

‘Ah, ah! Eels,’ I shriek, flinging my arms about.

‘Oh, my God, are you all right?’ he pants, hopping toward me through the reeds.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, I was just doing some incredibly good acting,’ I say, standing up, so just the tops of my shoulders are out of the water.

Joe wades out to where I am. He stops and stands gazing at me.

‘I would just like to say,’ he says, stopping and looking up at the blue sky for a moment. ‘God, universe, whatever is at work here, I would just like to say, thank you.’

I smile at him.

‘Do we wait to kiss or do we kiss now?’ he whispers.

‘Let’s wait,’ I whisper back.

He nods.

‘For five minutes,’ I instruct.

‘I don’t know whether I can.’ He makes an ‘eek’ face.

‘Me neither,’ I whisper.

‘Shall I time it on my waterproof watch?’

I nod.

And we look at each other for five minutes. We just look into each other’s eyes and listen to each other breathing, and you’d think it would be rubbish, but it’s glorious and sexy and as though we’re merging into one, somehow.

‘That’s actually five minutes and thirteen seconds,’ he says eventually. And he steps forward and cups my face in his hands. At first he kisses my forehead, so softly, then my cheeks, then he tilts my face ever so slightly, so his mouth is near mine. And I can’t tell which is his heart or mine or whose breath is whose, and then his lips touch mine and I feel like I’m spinning. I cling onto his back, his shoulders, his hair.

We stand and kiss, until our skin starts to feel like dried fruit and we begin to shiver. He takes my hand and leads me out of the water.

We stop for a moment, there, on the edge of the land, with the sun warming our skin. Joe starts to fidget, he moves some of my sodden hair away from my eyes, he’s murmuring words, but he’s not looking at me. I can’t catch what it is he’s saying.

‘What was that?’ I whisper.

‘I was just telling you the working title of my album, it’s…’ He stops, looks straight into my eyes. ‘It’s
Love at First Sight
.’

Mother’s still not home! I’ve been trying to be cool, I really have. I know she needs her independence. I know I can’t keep her close to me all the time. And, yes, I know, as Philippa says, that she has needs. I texted Simon the Plasterer three times, he told me she was safe. But then I thought, Of course, he’s going to tell you she’s safe, Fanny, you tool, while he’s ripping up his kitchen floor and burying your mother there. So then I called and asked, well, he said demanded, but I think I was polite but firm, that he put Mum on the phone. And Mum did sound fine, a little sleepy, because it was 8 a.m., but I’m not going to feel bad, it was the second night she’d stayed out. So I spoke to her to arrange the plan for the funeral ambush (her words), but she said she didn’t want to help with the funeral today.

‘I just don’t think I can handle a whole day to do with death, Jenny,’ she said. And I sort of get her point. She’s menopausal and emotional so she’d probably be a blubbing mess, and she’s done so much work already, organising today, that I couldn’t bring myself to persuade her. Still it feels like quite a lot of pressure on me now. Al can’t take today as a holiday from work. Philippa only has a few hours off to sort out the golf club presentation. So I’ll be setting up the entire community centre on my own. It is doable. I hope. I’ll just miss Mum, that’s all. I’ve been really enjoying hanging out with my mum recently. I feel as though we’ve become a little army of two. I never imagined we’d have this friendship. It’s like receiving the best present and it’s not even my birthday or Christmas. And obviously I want her to be here right now so I can tell her all about the most wonderful man in the universe. Mr Love At First Sight. Ooh, talk of the handsome devil. A text!