Sighing, I reached into my wallet for a tenner and held it out between my index and middle fingers.
She smiled and whipped it away from me. ‘Thank you.’ She blew me a kiss, spun round on the spot and walked back to the bar, earning herself admiring glances from several huddles of blokes as she did, all of whom she completely ignored.
I got my phone back out – another notification. I opened it and caught my breath. I had to blink a couple of times.
I was wondering if you needed a house call? Monday lunchtime?
My mouth fell open. WTAF?
That would be great if it’s not too much trouble? My address is—
* * *
I spent the whole weekend unable to think about anything else. I had no message to look back at, so I wasn’t sure if it had even happened, or I’d dreamt it. Even if she HAD sent it, she was bound to have sobered up on Saturday morning and thought twice. Maybe she actually meant she was genuinely going to come and check on my leg? But then, I’d have had to have gone through the doctors officially, wouldn’t I? I checked my chats religiously, but nothing more came through from her at all. I wasn’t going to take any chances though, so on Monday morning I appeared at breakfast in my T-shirt and trackie bums.
‘Mum, I don’t feel well. Do you mind if I don’t go in today?’
‘Oh baby!’ Mum was sat at the breakfast bar fully made-up, hair done and dressed for work, but held out her arms to me. I walked over and leant my head down so she could rest her lips on my forehead – which I’d just held a hot flannel to, up in the bathroom. The same trick, since I was ten years old.
‘You do feel warm.’ She pulled a sympathetic face. ‘Your leg isn’t playing up?’ She glared at Dad, who sighed crossly, got up and put his bowl in the dishwasher, adjusting his suit trousers and glancing at his Rolex. ‘Come on, Chris, we’ve got the planners meeting. I don’t want to be late.’
‘My leg is fine,’ I told Mum truthfully.
‘Are your sugars OK?’
I nodded. ‘I just feel a bit dizzy, that’s all.’
‘You’re going to have something to eat now though?’
‘Yes. Of course.’
‘I’m not back until four, sweetheart.’ She looked worried. ‘You’ll be all right looking after yourself until then?’
I nodded. ‘I’ll at least open some soup later. I promise.’
‘You’re practically Bear Grylls,’ said Ruby, getting up, snapping her phone shut and shoving it in her handbag.
I gave her a fake smile to which she stuck her tongue out. ‘I’m off. I’ll see you all later.’ She kissed Dad’s cheek as she passed him.
‘Have a good one, bub,’ he said, pleased. ‘You look very nice today. Very professional.’
‘Thank you!’ She struck a pose, briefly. ‘Media agency expert Ruby Day, at your service.’ She laughed, happily. ‘Hope you feel “better” later.’ She looked at me pointedly and ignored my narrowed eyes as she spun round and tick tacked out of the room.
‘Shoes, Ruby! Walk on tiptoe and not the heel!’ Dad threw his arms open, exasperated, then looked at his watch again. ‘Christine, please! Can we GO!’
‘Don’t call me that!’ Mum said sharply but got up. ‘Bye, love. I’ll have my phone on all day.’ She kissed me and looked at Dad, pointing a warning finger at him. ‘If you’re going to be like this, I’m not coming. Have a word with yourself, all right?’
‘Fine, fine.’ Dad held his hands up. ‘I’m sorry. Now can we please just go? Bye, Jonny. Stay out of trouble, please.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ I said absently, checking my phone again. Still nothing. I was starting to feel like a bit of a knob. Had I just skived off for no reason whatsoever? I made some good use of my time though, updating my Instagram with pictures of me lying in bed, shirt off. After five minutes of posting I hadn’t had any likes at all though, not even Cherry, so I deleted them in a mood, got up and got ready, showering and choosing a white T-shirt and jeans. Then I put clean sheets on the bed.
At quarter to one, just as I’d given up hope, Angel began to bark and, my heart stopping, I jumped up off the bed, went over to the window and looked down. It was her car. She had actually come. Fuck.
She climbed out of the car dressed in a navy skirt and jacket and was holding a black bag. She half smiled as I opened the front door and walked slowly across the gravel to the front door.
‘Hi.’
‘You’re here,’ I said foolishly, and she smiled a little wider.
‘I am. Can I come in then?’
She walked past me into the hallway and looked down at the floor. ‘Do you want me to take my shoes off?’
I thought about Dad. ‘No, you don’t have to. It’s fine. Everyone is at work, by the way. It’s just me.’
She chewed her lip and looked around her, almost as if she was confused. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing here,’ she said softly.
I hesitated and, feeling so nervous I wanted to puke, I walked over to her, bent my head and kissed her. She stood very still, at first, but then she started to kiss me back.
We had sex in my bed. I’ve slept with plenty of girls, but I’m not going to lie, I was nervous. It was a bit vanilla, which is not a criticism – just straightforward and quick, but I think she came. I definitely did, as she lay under me. We didn’t talk as she dressed and sorted her hair out, but she smiled at me, and I honestly thought I was going to wake up at any moment.
‘Is that it now?’ I blurted.
She’d looked amused. ‘Do you want it to be?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I’d like to see you again.’
She stood up, hesitated and said: ‘How about Friday night? Ten p.m? I could meet you for a bit. At the bottom of the hill by Calverly Park?’
‘OK,’ I agreed eagerly.
I walked her out to her car, and then didn’t know if I should kiss her or not, and ended up standing there awkwardly instead, like a twat.
She smiled. ‘See you Friday then.’
I watched her drive off and went back into the house, closing the door behind me in amazement. That had actually just happened?
I’d just gone upstairs again, when the doorbell rang, making me jump. Had she forgotten something? I went back as fast as I could, smiling widely, and flung the door open, but bloody Cherry was on the doorstep.
‘Hey, you’re up and about! I bought you lunch!’ She held up a Pret bag and bounced in past me. ‘Look at you all pleased to see me. You’re the cutest. C’mon. Let’s eat!’
At the time I felt relieved; now I wish she’d been just five minutes earlier, because she would have seen Alex leaving the house. It would have proved she was there. To be honest, I spent the next four days wondering if it had happened at all. It was the unrealness that I couldn’t handle, the feeling I’d made the whole thing up in my head.
I couldn’t concentrate in class at all and got bollocked more than usual for not paying attention, although I honestly couldn’t see what the problem was; under the new system, nothing counts at all until our exams at the end of Year 13 – a whole year away. I had plenty of time. They’d started banging on about making a head start on my uni choices before the summer holidays, saying I had to devise a long list of courses, going along to some open days and thinking about a personal statement. None of it mattered. I couldn’t think about anything but Alex, naked and under me.
* * *
By ten to ten in the pub on Friday, I was slightly more than my usual two drinks up, purely from nerves. I told the others I was going to get some more cash out and staggered down the hill that ran parallel and behind the high street’s glossy shop fronts, walking past all of the fire escapes and waste bins. It wasn’t lit by street lights and I nearly fell once or twice, bouncing off one of the bumper-to-bumper parked cars. Part of me was convinced she wouldn’t be there and it had all been a fantasy; but, sure enough, there was the BMW sitting on a double yellow in the black, lights and engine off.
I got in but she didn’t even smile, just looked around her to make sure no one was looking. ‘How long have you got?’