The Boy I Loved Before (24 page)

Read The Boy I Loved Before Online

Authors: Jenny Colgan

BOOK: The Boy I Loved Before
11.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 
 
I went in, but it wasn't my dad who was there to greet me. It was my mother.
‘Oh,' she said. ‘I thought it was …' Then she choked and turned her face away.
‘Mum?
Mum!
' I said, genuinely concerned as her face crumpled up.
Stanzi, silently disappeared to the spare room.
‘He's …I thought he wasn't going to be so late any more.'
I looked at my watch. ‘What do you mean, “any more”? How often is he this late?'
My mother bit her lip. ‘I'm not the bitch in this family, Flora. You have to believe that.'
I made her a cup of tea. Her hands were shaking. Then I put my arms around her and I gave her a hug.
‘Ssh,' she said. ‘It's alright. Go to bed.'
But it wasn't alright. She shooed me up the stairs, where I lay on the bed, curled in a tight ball with my eyes closed,
wishing and wishing and wishing this wasn't happening; wishing it wasn't my fault that my mother was going through this again.
At two thirty, the front door opened. There were raised voices, then tears. Voices raised again, then hushed quickly. I heard ‘You're never!' and ‘Not the first time'. I put my fingers over my ears. The last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep was my father trying to calm my mother; saying, ‘It's going to be alright.' I wondered if she was convinced.
It is amazing how much you can get away with not mentioning in families. Amazing. And by the time Monday came around, it was a lovely day. What a nice day. Autumnal, crisp. I'd grown to hate lovely days over the last few years, resenting how they made staying in the office even worse, Dean breathing down my neck every five minutes, making sure nobody could have fun just because the sun was shining. It was pathetic how everyone sat in the concrete garden, desperate to eat our Pret à Manger in just a slice of sunlight. Olly and I always meant to go somewhere outside at the weekend, but by the time we'd read the papers and he'd worked and we'd bickered a bit and I'd got to the gym and … well, half the time it never happened. Actually, it never ever happened, even when we meant to.
But this was one of those back-to-school days that requires a grey V-neck sweater and some nice fresh stationery. And I had both of those! Mum, quieter than ever, had even made porridge, which I secretly completely loved, as did my dad
– as a consequence of which, she hadn't made it in years. I tried not to think about the fact that I'd glanced at the calendar. And … well, I had twelve days till Tashy's wedding. Twelve days till God knows what. Twelve days. And I badly wanted to make the most of them.
‘Good party then?' my dad asked me.
My mum glanced up at him immediately. I'd spent the entire day before barricaded in my room, simply so I could read the broadsheet papers without snorts of derision coming from my dad over the
Mail on Sunday
about who was getting all pretentious then, but maybe he thought I was swooning with love for some lad. Oh God. Well, when it came down to it, I had snogged him. Oh God. I was trying to pretend it was all a dream, like the rest of my life. Except – oh, this was ridiculous. I had butterflies. I hadn't had those for years. Yes, his lips were very pink and very soft and he did smell dreamy, but this was just a combination of hormones and nostalgia. Wasn't it? I told myself sternly. YES.
‘Yes,' I said. Then I did a reflex I hadn't done for years and would have sworn I couldn't remember what it was. I put my hand up to my neck to check for lovebites.
My dad shot my mother another look, but she wouldn't respond.
‘I was very good,' I said.
‘Was that sexy counsellor there? They should have sent her to keep an eye on things.'
‘Dad!'
My dad had known Tashy since she was six! Kind of.
‘I just think she's a good influence on you, that's all.'
‘I think I'm going to walk. Gotta go!'
 
 
I dawdled along, kicking leaves up in the air, forgetting for a moment that I was anything other than a kid on her way to school, thinking about English class, walking past Clelland's house as usual. I remembered how I used to hang out, desperately hoping to see him walk past. Now I was trying to scuttle past quickly in case either Clelland brother happened to be there.
Clelland senior was outside the garden gate.
‘Um, hi,' I said.
‘Um, hi,' he said, looking a bit flustered. I don't know why; I went to school at the same time every day, didn't I? No, no, I didn't. I was an adult with different routines and choices, I tried to remind myself.
‘Have you moved back home?' I asked.
‘Have you?'
‘
Touché
,' I said.
‘No, it's just, Maddie doesn't really like her parents thinking we … you know. While we're in the country.'
‘Are they God botherers?'
‘And how. I mean, no, not … just Christians, you know, perfectly normal.'
Suddenly Justin came out of the front door. My heart started to palpitate again. He saw me and immediately went red from the tips of his ears to his shirt collar. Oh, for goodness' sake.
‘Come on, small bear,' shouted Clelland.
I looked at them both.
‘He's not walking me to school,' said Justin sullenly. ‘He just won't leave me alone.'
‘I've been in Africa for two years,' said Clelland. ‘Is a little bit of bonding too much to ask?'
‘Bonding, not babysitting,' said Justin crossly. ‘And your stupid girlfriend keeps gubbing on about Africa. Are you going or aren't you?'
Clelland suddenly turned a bit tight-lipped.
‘Shall we go?' he said.
There was no way round it. I had to walk in between them. Clelland was looking at me with some amusement.
‘So what do you have at school today, little lady?'
‘I'm selling drugs behind the science block, destroying the fabric of society, failing to vote, expecting the world to owe me a living and sleeping with the PE teacher,' I said grumpily. Justin kept sneaking peeks at me and brushing my hand, and I had no idea what to do about it.
‘You obviously love school,' said Clelland.
‘Ever since they did away with corporal punishment it's just not the same,' I said.
Clelland laughed down his nose at me and shook his head.
 
 
Stanzi met me at the front gates. She had a gigantic hickey down one side of her neck.
‘Stanz,' I said, ‘you look like a pram face.'
‘I don't care,' she said proudly. ‘I've never had one before.'
‘I don't think you want to advertise every single stage of your secondary sexual development,' I said. ‘Necessarily.'
‘Ooh, there's Kendall,' she said, waving furiously. OK. Maybe there were a few long roads of wisdom to womanhood she had to set foot on.
Kendall beamed his head off when he saw her and came running over. Oh. Maybe not.
They giggled and pawed each other quietly and I pretended not to care as we wandered towards English.
 
 
‘Miss Scurrison.'
I looked up to see the teacher standing over me.
‘Hi,' I said. ‘How are you?'
The rest of the class laughed, thinking this was just cheek. I realised I was just trying to be normal. Teachers aren't normal. I was aware that I kept making mistakes like this, like those aliens in science-fiction films who are trying to pass as humans but keep eating the cutlery. Last week I'd been caught listening to early choral music.
‘I'm fine, thank you, Miss Scurrison,' said Miss Syzlack sarcastically. ‘I'm always fine on Monday mornings after I've spent the entire weekend marking.'
I picked up the essay she'd put in front of me. An A! I'd never had a straight A in my life! I was a compulsive B student. This was great.
‘Thanks!' I said.
‘Don't mention it,' said the teacher.
‘Swotto lesbo,' said Fallon quietly from the back.
I turned round as Miss Syzlack walked back to the front.
‘Are you starting?'
She gazed at me for a minute.
‘No,' she said sullenly, and went back to doodling on her folder.
‘Yes, Flora got the only A in the class,' said Miss Syzlack.
I couldn't help it, I beamed with pride. They should do this at work. If you spend weeks on a report, with proper colour graphs and everything, you should get a big mark for
it and everyone should be impressed, rather than leafing through them and throwing them in the bin immediately.
‘She's the only person who didn't clearly cut and paste the entire thing from the Internet. It's about original thinking, guys.'
A groan went up from the whole class – including me, when I realised how much time I'd wasted on the damn thing. But I didn't care. I was still glowing. And all I had to do that afternoon was three hours of art, then five of us (including Ethan and Kendall) were off for Coke floats and a lengthy party post-mortem. Hurrah! I'd forgotten that these could take weeks and would involve much embroidery. I was really going to drop Fallon in it this time.
 
 
I escaped at lunchtime. I'd forgotten in all the excitement that I'd arranged to meet Tashy. I was becoming an expert at slipping out of the school gates, but really, sneakily, I'd kind of wanted to catch up on all the gossip, and spread some.
I ferociously wolfed down a cheese toastie and a chocolate milkshake – I was
so
hungry, all the time – while Tashy looked on miserably sitting in the small condensation-filled atmosphere of the little caff.
‘Do you remember when I used to be the jolly one and you used to be the worrier?' she said.
I pulled myself back from my obsessive thoughts about having snogged a seventeen-year-old.
‘I am worried!' I said quickly. ‘I have twelve days before I meet up with myself again and evaporate. Or maybe my
other self will adopt me. Can I have another toastie? Have I told you about my A?'
Tashy looked away and let out a big sigh.
‘Can we talk about this, or are you just going to stuff your face and act like you have no responsibilities in the world?'
‘OK, Tash,' I said. ‘Don't marry him. Please. Don't. You'll meet someone else; of course you will.'
‘It's not that,' she said.
‘People call off weddings all the time. After a few years it becomes an amusing story.'
‘It's not that,' she repeated. ‘Stop being so … so
young
.'
I stuck out my lower lip.
‘Do you know what?' she went on. ‘I'd almost say fuck the thirteen thousand pounds.'
‘Thirteen thousand pounds!' I said. ‘Are you nuts? You could have gone round the world sixteen times for that!'
‘Yes, thank you. Olly pointed that out too. You try telling my mother to de-invite Aunt Nesta.'
‘Well, it's money well spent,' I said hurriedly. ‘And Nesta gets drunk and falls over during the speeches.'
‘Really? Well, that does make it all worth it, I suppose.' Tashy's tone was hard.
‘Yeah,' I said.
‘No,' she said suddenly, ferociously playing with the Sweetex. ‘It's not that. It's none of that. I see that now. I spent all night crying, just lying beside Max. He'd spent the entire evening on the phone geeking off to one of his friends about computers.'
‘Communications skills,' I said.
‘And I thought: I can't put up with this. I can't do it. I
can't go to supper with this man, or take him out to meet friends and have him be so dull, and so unsupportive and so un-me.'
I reached out and took her hand.
‘Your hand is very greasy,' she said, glancing round in case she looked like a preying paedophile.
‘Sorry,' I said. I wiped them on my school skirt, feeling as if I'd been given a telling-off by a grown-up. Then I realised I was being daft.
‘OK then, do it,' I said. ‘Look at me. It's obvious the world is full of surprises. There are twists of fate every step of the way. You have to follow—'
‘Flora,' she said, her tone serious. ‘This is important. Do you want to come back?'
This took me by surprise. ‘I thought we were talking about your life,' I grumbled.
‘I mean it, Flo. This is very important.'
And I thought about it. Hard. I thought about the accountancy firm. And I thought about my thirty-two-year-old body. And I thought about art school. And I thought about Justin. And I thought about Clelland. And I thought about possibilities — to do it differently, to change it. But most of all I thought about my mum and dad.
‘Oh God,' I said.
‘What?' said Tashy. ‘What?'
‘Well, yeah,' I said. ‘I mean, sure.'
Tashy didn't say anything for a moment, just kept staring at me with an unnerving intensity. Then: ‘You don't sound so sure.'
‘But my mum, Tash. My mum. I haven't seen her like this … I mean, you know her, but you don't have to deal
with her like I do. All those tears, all those calls … I think my dad is leaving – the first time round I left her alone. I went to university and left her to it. I nearly destroyed her.'
We stared at each other.
‘So what are you saying?'
I realised we were both leaning over, desperately sincere about this. It was serious – very serious.
I thought of Clelland's amused-looking face at my predicaments. He would be off to Africa again soon with Madeleine and I'd never see him again anyway, and I'd be back to Belsize Park, completely on my own, spinster city beckoning …

Other books

Death of Yesterday by M. C. Beaton
Hunt the Wolf by Don Mann, Ralph Pezzullo
The Bernini Bust by Iain Pears
Black Widow by Nikki Turner
First Impressions by Nora Roberts
Hollywood Husbands by Jackie Collins
A Rope--In Case by Lillian Beckwith
Theatre by W Somerset Maugham
The Sorcerer's Dragon (Book 2) by Julius St. Clair
Treasures from Grandma's Attic by Arleta Richardson