I knew I wouldn’t bottle it again, wouldn’t let Sophie down. I was sure then that I’d made the right decision, sticking with Sophie and the others. I saw Maria having lunch with Esther most days. She’d be fine. Esther was probably a better friend for her anyway.
The next big party was at Sam’s house. I was properly invited this time, and not just because of Sophie. In fact Sophie said Sam had specifically asked her if she could bring me. I tried not to read too much into that. I got ready at Sophie’s again, and we walked there from hers. I had no idea where his house was, so when we turned right by the fish and chip shop and started walking up Coombe Road, I was surprised. Not in a snobby way; I just never realised he lived up there. We walked past a gang of grubby little boys playing football on the street. One of them called out something rude to us but we ignored them.
When Sam opened the door his pupils were so large that his eyes looked nearly black. He enveloped both of us in a huge hug and then danced off back down the hall.
‘God, he’s having a good time already, isn’t he?’ I said to Sophie. I was hoping to convey my coolness, to let her know that I understood that he was on something, but she pursed her lips. The floor was carpeted in a sickly green and the wallpaper looked as though it had been there since the 1970s. Sophie pulled me down the corridor and into the kitchen at the back of the house. If the wallpaper was from the 1970s, the kitchen appeared to date from even earlier than that. Sophie sat me down at the Formica table, which had a sheen of dust and several burns on it. Her face was serious.
‘Listen, we need to have a talk.’
I said nothing, picking with my fingernail at a chip on the surface of the table. Surely she wasn’t going to pull away again, after I’d just got her back?
‘We’ve noticed that you have a bit of an attitude about drugs.’
Who’s ‘we’? I thought, but didn’t say.
‘If you don’t want to try anything, then, of course, that’s up to you. But if you are going to be hanging around with us more, then that’s what we do, you know? I wouldn’t want you to feel left out.’
I thought fast.
‘It’s not that I have an attitude. More that I’ve never done anything except smoke a bit of weed, so I’m a bit unsure. What’s E like then?’
‘Oh my God, it’s amazing. You’d love it. Everything’s really beautiful and all the colours are really bright and you love everyone, and you just feel extraordinary. Light and happy. Like you could float away.’
‘Sounds good,’ I said lamely, embarrassed by my shameful naivety.
‘It’s more than good. Do you want to try one tonight?’
‘Tonight? What, here? Oh, I don’t know…’ I was frightened of drugs, frightened of losing control, of embarrassing myself.
She shrugged, unsmiling. ‘Like I said, it’s up to you. I’m going to go and find Claire.’
She walked out of the room and left me sitting alone at the kitchen table. From the window I could see into the scrubby back garden. There were a couple of torn and rusty sunbeds, one of them lying on its side. I remembered how Maria and I had lain in the garden at Matt’s house, and how relaxed I had felt in her company, alternating between desultory conversation and easy silence. I squeezed the inside of my mouth between my back teeth, chewing on the soft flesh, clawed by indecision. Was it too late to save what I had so nearly had with Maria? A proper friend – someone funny and interesting, who liked me for who I was. She’d forgiven me once – might she not do so again? I had tried to warn her, after all, about the tampon. All I had to do was walk out of this house, go home, and call her. It would be my final chance, I knew that, but still I felt she might give it to me.
The door flew open and I looked up, expecting to see Sophie back again, but my heart sank when I saw Tim Weston, closely followed by Matt Lewis’s older brother. Tim ground to an abrupt halt when he saw me.
‘Oh. I didn’t know you were here.’
‘Put these in the fridge, would you, mate?’ Matt’s brother said to Tim, shoving a couple of four-packs of lager into his hands and turning back to the party.
I pushed my chair as far into the table as it would go as Tim squeezed past me in silence. He removed one of the cans and put the rest in the fridge. He was halfway out of the door when he seemed to make up his mind about something and turned back to me.
‘Look, stay away from my sister, OK?’
‘Don’t worry, I’m going to.’ The harshness of my voice dismayed me, and I looked down, fiddling with the zip of my top. ‘Is she here?’ I asked more softly.
‘No, of course she’s not here,’ he said, throwing himself down in the chair opposite me and banging his can down on the table, causing lager to splash from the hole. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done?’
‘What d’you mean?’ I said, not daring to meet his eye.
‘She tells me stuff. I know what you’ve done to her. You may not know what she went through in London, but I do. This is the last thing she needs.’
‘She’s got Esther, hasn’t she?’ I muttered.
‘Yes, and thank God she has, but you know as well as I do that being friends with Esther means she’s cut herself off from ninety per cent of the rest of the year. And anyway, she wanted you. She liked you. And you let her down. And for what? That slapper in there?’ He jerked his hand in the direction of the front room where the music was pounding. ‘I hope you think it’s worth it.’ He stood up and pushed his chair back with a jerk, the legs screeching against the worn lino.
I sat at the table for a few minutes, not sure whether my legs would carry me if I stood up. Eventually I stepped towards the door, decision made, wondering only whether to tell Sophie I was leaving. However, just as I’d decided to try and sneak away without anyone noticing, the door opened again. I steeled myself for another conversation with Tim, but my stomach gave a foolish flip when I realised that it was Sam. His dirty blond hair was flopping into his eyes, the blue of which was almost entirely obscured by his dilated pupils.
‘Lovely Louise! There you are!’ he cried, causing a blush to spread up my neck, even though I knew that the affection he felt for me was purely chemical. He pulled me close and I hugged him back, feeling the heat of his body against my chest, my hands pressed into his back. I kept my eyes closed and inhaled, breathing in a mix of his worn leather jacket, a sweet and sharp citrusy smell and something else indefinable. An unfamiliar feeling rose in me, a desperate wanting that I could hardly name.
‘Sit down with me?’ Sam asked.
We sat down opposite each other and he smiled, reaching out for my hand. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to fly up out of my throat.
‘Sorry about all this,’ he said, looking around the kitchen.
‘What do you mean?’ I looked around at the rusty sink, the ancient yellow kitchen units, one door hanging off and a drawer completely missing, the chipped and stained worktop.
‘You know what I mean. It’s a shithole.’