Kept (23 page)

‘No!’ gasps Obélix. He nearly knocks over his pint glass
as he slams down his hand on the table.

‘Umm, yes.’ Why would I make something like
this
up? I’m certifiable if these are my
fantasies when there are much more exciting things I could be dreaming up.

‘That’s crazy, Arielle.’

‘I know.’
 
And really,
I know more than anyone else exactly how crazy all this is.

‘Peter won’t be too pleased when he hears about this.’

‘Peter?’ I ask incredulously. ‘What on Earth has that loser
got to do with any of this?’

‘Oh, everything, Arielle.’ Infuriatingly he won’t expand on
his useless snippet that Noah’s little brother won’t be pleased that Noah is
finally returning home. It’s about time anyway that those boys bury whatever
stupid reason caused them to fall out.

It’s no concern of mine but if I did attribute blame, I’d
blame Peter. I’ve never liked him, not really, which might have been made
obvious to him when I bumped into him a few weeks ago. Embarrassingly I had
been putting the rubbish out in my quirky David and Goliath cow pyjamas when he
spotted me. He’d tried to talk to me but I had lied, claimed my toast was
burning – I didn’t want to be bored any longer than absolutely necessary. He
called back round later that day but I made Mum tell him I was in Bournemouth,
spending the weekend with Obélix. He left his number, said it was urgent that I
phoned him, but I binned the number.

 
Anyway, Peter is not
the issue here, and I indicate this to Obélix with a dismissive “whatever”. I
certainly don’t want the topic to turn to Peter and his delusions – those could
fill up an evening’s conversation and who cares about Peter Penrose. Not me.

‘So?’ Ob asks.

‘What?’ Honestly, it’s sometimes very confusing talking to
Obélix, me not being a mind-reader. Felicity would be his ideal woman with her
vagueness if she wasn’t old enough to be our mum.

‘What’s Lara like?’ he asks like I’m the dumbest person
ever
for not being able to figure out
that
was his question. I blame the fact
he spends most of his days talking to cows and sheep as opposed to actual human
beings for his lack of realisation of how the human race
actually
communicates.

‘She’s a
mother
,
Obélix,’ I remind him.
 

‘And? Mums are hot. Y’know MILFS?’

I roll my eyes. I can’t imagine ever aspiring to want to
become a mother some boy would like to…
you
know
. It’s plain wrong.

‘She left Noah to get back with her son’s
father
. She’s not free,’ I tell him
slowly. It’s like talking to a child.

‘Oh, I forgot about that.’

‘Conveniently,’ I mutter. Honestly, men have such selective
memories.

‘You can’t blame me for trying, can you?’

‘Lonely nights, Ob?’ I ask sympathetically. Now is not the
time for sheep and cow jokes. He looks crestfallen.

‘You could say that.’ He sounds defeated, but perks up
immediately. ‘Anyway, we’re here to talk about you. Your messes always cheer me
up. They make me grateful that even if I don’t have a love life, well, at least
I don’t have your train wreck.’

I ignore this. I need to demonstrate to Obélix how he needs
to behave in polite company and maybe that way he’ll get somewhere with women,
if he ever manages to get a date.

‘You can talk to me about your problems, Ob,’ I say kindly.

‘We’ll get you sorted first Arielle, then we’ll work on me.’

‘Go on then,’ I concede. I think we both know my love life
will always be a screw-up and Obélix will be spared from my interference as
we’ll never sort me out. Best not to elaborate on
that
depressing thought. Instead, Obélix asks me about the shop.

‘It’s fizzling out,’ I admit.

‘I thought you were fully booked up?’ He looks surprised.

‘We are for the next two months but, let’s face it, there
are only so many women in the area who will want consultations. Then what? We
won’t get much tourist trade in this climate and I get the impression Felicity
is still planning to close the shop sooner rather than later. I can’t blame her
for closing on a high – it’s great for her. Trouble is, it’s really crap for
me,’ I glumly confide.

‘There’s your course though. You knew you wouldn’t be
staying there forever and you’ll want to get back to London. And Piers,’ he
adds, probably thinking this will cheer me up but he looks a little guilty. I
can’t understand why.

‘I never applied,’ I admit, ignoring his odd face. At least
I no longer have to ignore his odd clothing. He let me pick him out a new
wardrobe. I can’t tell you how much I came to hate the plaid shirts he insisted
on wearing
all the time.
If I can
sort out his weirdness, his lack of communication skills and get him a date,
some woman will find Mr Thomas quite the catch!

‘Arielle!’

‘I know, I know.’ And really, I do know. I’ve been too busy
enjoying the now to think about the future, but that’s no surprise – I’ve
always expertly avoided my future. This admission shouldn’t shock Obélix.

‘Well what’s the plan if there’s no course and Felicity does
shut shop?’

‘I have no idea. To be honest, I can’t really think beyond
tomorrow,’ I admit.
  

Tomorrow is when Noah is New Forest-bound. I texted Lara,
thanking her for telling me the truth that she and Noah were separated and I
wasn’t actually a horrible marriage-destroying bitch. She replied asking if I
would see Noah if he came to Brockenhurst. After she pleaded his case, I
relented and said yes, but I know Ob doesn’t approve of this meeting tomorrow.
He’s not told me, but I’ve known him a lifetime – I can read his mind with his
eyes alone, yet I still can’t place this sense of guilt I’m getting from them.

‘Well think,’ he admonishes me. ‘What do you want?
Career-wise, that is, not romantically.’

Surprisingly, for once, I don’t want to think about romance,
but I do know what I want career-wise. I never expected that reversal.

‘My own place, I guess. In London though,’ I add quickly.

‘So, why not go for it?’

‘No money, no experience.’

‘You turned around Felicity’s from your very first day,
Arielle. I admit money could be an issue but you can’t claim you don’t have the
experience. Experience will cover the money issue because you can get a loan.’

‘No bank would lend me money,’ I huff. And really, with my
credit history and the way the economy is heading, no bank would.

‘You can try though, you
must
try, Arielle,’ he says sternly, looking directly into my eyes. Most unnerving.
He wears the most unnatural-coloured contact lenses – purple today.

 
As I start to list
all the reasons why no bank will lend me money, my phone, sat next to my glass
of wine, starts to flash telling me I have a call. I feel sick at the name it’s
alerting me to.

‘Piers.’ I groan.

‘That would be pretty low asking Piers for a loan, Arielle.
Especially considering I know you might even believe what lies Noah Penrose
will cook up tomorrow… No, no, don’t interrupt,’ he says holding up his hand.
‘Piers should be the one you talk to properly, who you should be with, yet
you’re... Oh, Piers,’ he says finally noticing I’m looking at my phone that is
flashing up Piers’ name.

‘Piers is on the phone,’ I explain lamely in case he’s not
twigged that is who is phoning, a stupid delaying tactic.

‘Are you going to answer that?’

‘Umm.’ I have no idea. Push and pull, that’s how I feel.
Curiosity and nerves have emerged from Noah’s upcoming visit home, his visit to
me,
and I think I’m doing that stupid
thing again where I plan on dealing with Noah first, then I’ll deal with Piers.
Except look how well that turned out last time.

‘Arielle.’ Obélix nudges me.

I hit the reject button and switch off my phone, faking
battery death. Such. A. Coward.

‘Arielle Demi Lockley!’

‘What?’

He glares at me at this. I don’t know why Obélix is
championing Piers of late – he’s never even met the man, maybe never will – but
I get he hates Noah Penrose, get that he doesn’t approve of me agreeing to talk
to Noah tomorrow when I am fobbing off Piers.

‘You need to talk to Piers, Arielle. You can’t keep brushing
him off.’

I know he’s right but I’m terrified that Piers is going to
tell me that he’s found someone else, that we’ll only ever be friends from this
point forward.

‘Sod off,’ I snap rudely. ‘Get yourself a girlfriend and
stop interfering in my love life.’

He looks devastated, and I feel like the biggest bitch there
is. Still, I say nothing further and let him storm out of the pub. Looks like
it’s time for another walk home in silence with only my twisted thoughts to
keep me company. Fab.

In the end I couldn’t let Ob storm home when I knew he was
right. I apologised, promised to make him his favourite red velvet cake to make
up for my rudeness, and also promised I would call Piers once I got home. It
went to his voicemail, so I left a quick message saying I was home and my phone
had died before I could pick up.

I had a text message waiting for me when I woke up saying
that he had been out entertaining a client, that he missed me, and he wished I
was at our home waiting for him to return. Why I am sat here under next door’s
tree house watching Noah Penrose approach me instead of being on a train back
to London and Piers to see if we have a future together is beyond me. Still,
one problem at a time. I need to tell Noah now that I am not interested, that
he’s wasting his time, and finally draw a line under the stupid teenage crush I
once had.

‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ He sits down.

‘How’ve you been?’

‘Well... Yourself?’ I ask after he doesn’t make any effort
to further this hideous attempt at conversation.

‘Yes, yes. I hear Arielle’s is a roaring success.’ He keeps
in touch with Lara then. I tightly smile in response and fiddle with the charms
on my Pandora bracelet. My fingers keep getting drawn to the
murano
glass charm Piers gave me for my last birthday.

Of course Piers is in my head; he never left my heart and
I’m starting to hope that the text message meant that my future is in London,
shop-wise and Piers-wise. I sneak a peek at Noah. He’s dressed in dark jeans,
sandy Caterpillar boots and a thick grey jumper. It’s funny, he looks as
baby-faced as he did when we first got together. He was dressed a bit differently
back then though...

‘What are you doing out in the cold, Arielle?’

‘Escaping from your brother,’ I replied sullenly. I didn’t
want to talk to anyone, I wanted to go home, but I’d stupidly stormed out of
the Penrose house without a key and didn’t want to go back in
there
. Hiding out by the tree house was
better than being near
him
, even if
it was freezing. The usual cool summer night felt icy.

‘What’s Peter done this time?’ he laughed.

‘Don’t laugh like that,’ I spluttered angrily at him like
the hormonal sixteen-year-old I was, one who could get worked up over the
smallest thing. Not that this was small, oh no. Far from it. This was
life-shattering.
My life was over.

‘Like what?’

‘Like it’s OK for your stupid brother to chase after me like
he does and I don’t get any say in the matter like… like I’m just some toy he
plays with when it suits him. I am not a toy!’ I practically roared at poor
Noah. I think it was the longest I had ever spoken to him since puberty had
kicked in. I was usually so in awe of him that I could barely formulate a
response. Peter was cute, but Noah was…
hot
.
So hot.

‘No,’ he seriously acknowledged my declaration. ‘You’re
not.’

‘Don’t you mock me too, Noah Penrose,’ I seethed.

‘Arielle,’ he answered softly, ‘I wouldn’t.’

‘You’re doing it now!’ I squealed, all sorts of confusion
swirling around my head.

With that I turned around and started to climb up the tree
house, desperate to put some distance between me and the infuriating Penrose
brothers. I didn’t know which one was worse. I could work out Peter’s teasing
at least but I couldn’t understand why Noah was wasting his time talking to me
when he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to be nice. I was just the stupid, dumb
girl from next-door and he was a man of the world now. He was
twenty
. I felt stupid around him but he
was nice enough not to notice my stupidity.
That
only made me feel stupider.

‘Be careful,’ Noah called up to me as I began the climb
nervously. ‘It’s dark.’

‘I’m not a baby,’ I called down, but inside my heart was trembling.
Triple-nerves: the tree house
was
high, it
was
very dark, and Noah
Penrose was hot.

I may have hated Peter for teasing me with his kisses and
hating him with as much passion as I could muster up, but something new was
sparking inside me as I climbed into the tree house – a new sort of passion. It
was like an awakening. I made it safely on to the platform, triumphant even
though I had been scared of falling. From here I could see my bedroom window,
which made sense as I could see the tree house from my window.

A few seconds later, Noah appeared making the tree house
seem tiny because Noah was so… big. Adult-sized.

‘Hey!’ I protested. He was so close to me, too close for my
stammering heart. I’m certain he could hear it, and I felt foolish – more so than
how Peter had made me feel earlier.

‘It’s my tree house.’

‘Fine, I’ll leave,’ I said angrily, trying to scramble over
him to climb down.

He wouldn’t let me though. He pushed me back down, and I
realised how strong he was as my hands reached up to grab his arms and caught
hold of his biceps. Oh. Wow.

‘Noah,’ I spluttered. ‘Let me go.’

‘You could hurt yourself, Arielle. At least let me go down
first to help you.’

‘I’m not a baby,’ I hotly remarked. I did not need his help.

‘I know. Nor a toy,’ he added cheekily. ‘But still, I
wouldn’t want you to get hurt.’

I went as scarlet as the tea dress I was wearing, relieved
it was dark as I was certain he’d be able to feel the heat off my face given we
were in such close proximity. I was
burning
,
plus I felt breathless like I’d just done cross-country at school. I was
mortified we were touching, but he didn’t seem too bothered.

I looked up. ‘Noah! Look at the stars!’ I exclaimed, all
thoughts of embarrassment out of my head. ‘They’re so pretty and twinkly!’ I marvelled.
I really was a
young
sixteen-year-old.

He swivelled around so he could lie on his back next to me,
staring up at the sky. ‘They are beautiful,’ he agreed. ‘But not as beautiful
as you.’

‘Noah!’ I was on fire.

‘You should take it as a compliment, Arielle.’

‘Well, thank you then,’ I managed to answer formally,
cringing at how uncool I sounded.

He just laughed. ‘Are you cold?’ he finally asked me,
breaking the silence.

‘A little,’ I admitted. My tea dress was thin and I had left
my cardigan inside when I had stormed out on Peter Penrose and the stupid girl
he was kissing. I couldn’t believe he’d deliberately pulled some girl in front
of me – the daughter of one of his parent’s friends, a girl I didn’t know but
who had the longest, straightest, most perfect blonde hair I’d ever seen – it
was so mean. Didn’t I mean anything to him?
 

‘Would you like my jacket?’ He sat up and took it off before
I had a chance to reply. Noah was wearing a suit, the first time I had ever
seen him in one, and he looked like a model, albeit a baby-faced one. He hadn’t
discovered the art of designer stubble at this point.

‘Thanks.’ I sat up too so he could put it on my shoulders.

I could see him clearly now we were sat up, so I knew he
could see me. Our eyes must have become accustomed to the dark, and all my
senses felt heightened.

‘You’re blushing!’

‘No!’ I protested, blushing further.
  

‘Yes, you are. Right here.’

He leaned in and traced his fingers over my cheek which made
them burn even more and caused a strange sensation to wash over me. I suddenly
didn’t care that I was still a schoolgirl and Noah was at university, that I
was seeing his brother when he wasn’t kissing stupid, perfect, blonde-haired
girls. For some crazy reason this thought made me lean in and kiss him, spurred
on by this uncontrollable feeling and a want for revenge on Peter, but I soon
realised he wasn’t kissing me back.

‘What?’ I asked trying to control my hysterics and tears.
‘Have I done something wrong?’

He was still sat there frozen but he let out this
animal-like groan which thrilled me and before I knew it, I was overwhelmed
with this unknown desire to lap up his skin bare, flesh-to-flesh, which was a
little surprising considering I would have rather died than let a boy – no, a
man – see me naked, or anyone else for that matter. I hated school medicals.
They were awful, yet this was something different. This would be nothing like a
school medical.

I wanted to hear that animal-like sound again from him, just
to make sure I hadn’t imagined it. Except Noah wasn’t saying anything or making
any noises at all. He was frozen.
  

‘What’s wrong?’ I wailed, the tears now pouring down my
face. I thought he hated me. I wanted to disappear or die. I felt humiliated.
This was a thousand times worse than Peter. I was so stupid.

‘Oh, Arielle. No. Please don’t cry,’ he said wiping my tears
away with his thumb suddenly springing to life at my wails. ‘We can’t. Please
don’t be upset,’ he said in the loveliest tone I’ve ever heard. I’d have done
anything he asked of me with that tone.

‘Why not?’ I asked unsure why we couldn’t. It was only
kissing.

‘You’re too young,’ he exclaimed and I could hear a note of
panic in his voice as my age must have sunk into the sensible part of his
brain. ‘I’m too old for you and you’re too young for
that
.’

‘There’s eight years difference between you and your
parents,’ I pointed out. A snippet of information I’d only learnt that evening
because the reason we were at the Penroses’ was to celebrate his parents’
wedding anniversary. Anyway, I wasn’t too young to kiss! I’d kissed plenty of
boys… OK, three. Naïvely I didn’t realise what Noah was implying.
 

‘Arielle,’ he said warningly, but I could hear a slight note
of uncertainty, like he really didn’t believe his warnings, like he was only saying
them as he felt it was his duty to warn me. If I chose not to adhere to his
warnings… that was something completely different.

‘It’s my choice,’ I hotly replied, spurred on by the wild
thing’s approval inside me. ‘I want you,’ I added silkily. I didn’t realise the
magnitude and implication of my words, especially using a pouty tone to a man
of Noah’s age. I was clueless.

‘You can’t,’ he replied trying to break free of me and leave
the tree house.

‘Yes, I can,’ I determinedly answered, grabbing him back. ‘I
want you,’ I stressed, causing him to face me.

That’s when I started kissing him once again because I
didn’t want him to leave, I wanted him to want me. A few seconds later he
succumbed and started kissing me back and I was flooded with that naked sensation
again. I wanted, no
needed
him, and
as a twenty-year-old man being offered it he clearly felt the same way.

That was the night that started all of this, the night I
lost my virginity to Noah Penrose underneath the twinkling stars without even
realising the magnitude of what we had done until it was over and we were still
under the twinkling stars, except panting, naked and entwined.

I hurt, but it felt wonderful. His sweetness afterwards made
me suspect I was head-over-heels in love with him, though I agreed we wouldn’t
tell anyone about us as they wouldn’t understand our love. Not that he told me
he loved me but my sixteen-year-old self saw this to be something it clearly
wasn’t. It now seems very fitting that we’re back at the scene of that crime,
sat underneath the same twinkling stars, possibly about to repeat history all
over again.