Kiss Read online

  'No, that's private too,' I said.

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  'Don't be silly, Sylvie, it's j u s t glass. And I've contributed to his collection, haven't I? I want to see where he's put my paperweight.'

  'But it's Carl's private place. He doesn't want anyone to go there, especially without him,' I said.

  'You go there. And he's t a k e n Paul there too.

  So why can't I go? I won't touch anything, I just w a n t to look. Where is it?' She squinted down t h e bottom of the garden to the yew hedge.

  'Behind the hedge!' she said. She marched off, bottom waggling beneath h e r short net skirt.

  'Come back here, Miranda,' said Mick. He said it quietly, but there was a steely tone to his voice.

  She took a few more steps forward defiantly, b u t then stopped. She t u r n e d her head, flipping back h e r hair, her cheeks flushed. 'Mm?' she said, as if she hadn't quite heard.

  'The Glass H u t is Carl's. It's private, as Sylvie says. No one goes there unless Carl expressly invites them. I think you'll have to wait for your invitation, Miranda.'

  M i r a n d a raised h e r eyebrows b u t didn't argue. She nibbled her lip, suddenly looking childish. Then she walked back to J a k e and tucked her h a n d into the crook of his elbow.

  'It looks like I'm settling for a tour of your paintings as I'm denied a glimpse of the famous glass collection,' she said.

  'Sure,' said Jake.

  She started tugging him towards the house.

  It didn't look as if I was included in this 224

  invitation. Then Jake turned, nearly at the house.

  'Aren't you coming too, Sylvie?'

  'In a minute,' I mumbled.

  I waited until they'd both gone in the back door. Then I looked at Mick. He was gathering his essays, tapping them on his lap, getting them neatly squared up. He caught my eye and went 'Phew!' cartoon style, blowing up into his own nostrils.

  T o u r friend Miranda makes quite an impact, Sylvie,' he said.

  'I know,' I said. 'I'm sorry I didn't ask you and Jules about h e r coming to lunch. She j u s t kind of asked h e r s e l f

  'I can well believe t h a t . She's a bit full-on, isn't she? I'm not sure our J a k e can handle h e r

  – a l t h o u g h I g a t h e r it's Carl she's really interested in.'

  I shrugged.

  'Well, she's wasting her time,' said Mick, and he reached out and gave my shoulder a little pat. Then he paused, his h a n d resting lightly on my arm. 'Sylvie, I don't know what's going on with Carl. Is he j u s t being a bit of a d r a m a queen, s h u t t i n g himself away like this, barely talking to anyone? Or is he really u n h a p p y about something serious?'

  'I don't know,' I said miserably. 'He doesn't seem to w a n t to tell me stuff any more.'

  Miranda a n d I stayed to lunch. Carl didn't join us. Jules p u t his meal on a tray.

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  'I'll t a k e it up to him if you like,' said Miranda.

  'Thank you, dear, but I think Sylvie h a d better do it,' said Jules.

  I j u m p e d up quickly a n d took t h e t r a y upstairs. I put it down outside Carl's door. I didn't knock. I simply p u t my mouth to the door and said, 'Here's your lunch, Carl. I've left it j u s t outside. I'm so sorry t h a t we came and banged on your door. I promise we'll leave you alone now.'

  I wanted to add, I love you. I mouthed the words, but didn't dare say them out loud.

  Miranda left shortly after lunch. She didn't like Mick and Jules being firm with her and she got bored of flirting with J a k e . I left too. We went back to my house b u t Miranda was still fidgety and restless.

  'Maybe I'll phone Paul.'

  'I thought he was going to phone you.'

  Yes, but you know w h a t boys are like. They say they'll phone but they never do.'

  'Do you want to go out with Paul again?'

  Yes. Well. Not really, b u t he'll do until someone more exciting comes along.'

  'I don't like him one bit,' I said. I paused, rehearsing the next words in my head, needing t h e m to come out as casually as possible. 'Why do you think Carl likes Paul?'

  'Because he's . . .' Miranda waved her h a n d s around for inspiration. 'He's a lad. He's good looking and he's sporty a n d he likes a laugh.

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  He's j u s t got this cheeky fun thing about him. I know you don't like him, Sylvie, b u t don't you think he's pretty fit looking?'

  'He's nowhere n e a r as good looking as Carl.'

  'Mm. Yes. B u t Carl's more your blond choirboy good looking. I t h i n k Paul's more sexy.'

  'Even though he couldn't do it properly?'

  'Well, most boys are hopeless at it at first.'

  'In your wide experience,' I said.

  'It's a whole lot wider t h a n yours,' said Miranda.

  She tried dialling Paul. He didn't answer, so she left a message.

  'Hey, you, it's Miranda, and it's three o'clock and I'm bored bored bored. Do you w a n t to get together somewhere? Call me then, asap.'

  Tou're bored bored bored?' I said.

  'I was j u s t saying t h a t as an excuse to ring him, silly,' she said. 'Still, I'd better go home, in case he comes round calling for me. Plus the parents might actually be a bit twitchy seeing as I promised to be back by lunch time.'

  I felt relieved when she went. I was starting to wish we h a d n ' t made friends. I didn't w a n t to be friends with Lucy either. I j u s t wanted Carl for my best friend.

  I lay down on my bed. Albert Bear was on my pillow b u t I flicked him overboard. I reached out for my old teddies on my windowsill and remembered the games Carl and I had first played together when we were little. We were jungle explorers a n d t h e s e t a t t e r e d nursery-world 227

  creatures, pink teddy, baby blue ted, a Scottie dog with a t a r t a n ribbon and a floppy sheep t h a t looked as if it had been r u n over – they were our wild animals.

  The softest and littlest, baby blue ted, was the most lethal. One bite from him h a d a devast-ating effect. We took it in t u r n s to froth at the m o u t h and fit while t h e other performed complex medical procedures with a spoon and a pair of plastic scissors and a skipping-rope stethoscope.

  My soft animal collection sometimes morphed into our children, Alice Pink, Benjamin Blue, Charlie Scottie, who threw terrible barking tantrums, and Michael Sheep, who was very very stupid but sweet-natured. We must have had our four children out of wedlock because we sometimes played Weddings. I made Alice a bridesmaid's dress out of a pink silk scarf.

  Benjamin, Charlie and Michael were pageboys until we got to church, and then Benjamin became a very short vicar, wearing a black glove over a white tissue so t h a t he had a proper clerical collar.

  Carl did Benjamin's voice and asked if I wanted to m a r r y Carl Anthony Johnson. I stood there in my white nightie with a bouquet of dandelions and said, I do, I do, I do, promising to love a n d obey h i m u n t i l d e a t h did us part.

  I wondered if Carl was still lying on his bed on t h e other side of the wall. Maybe he was even 228

  remembering t h e same games, thinking the same thoughts.

  My mobile w e n t ching-ching. I j u m p e d and pressed the message key, h e a r t leaping, but it was only Mum asking if I was OK and h a d I h a d a good lunch at Jules's. She promised she'd definitely be back by tea time and how did I feel about h e r bringing Gerry back to meet me?

  Oh God. I texted back: PERHAPS NOT. LOVE S.

  I lay back on my pillow and felt so lonely I started to cry a little, tears seeping slowly sideways. Then I fell asleep and dreamed about Carl. We were in Kew Gardens. I was lost again and I was running, running, running, trampling my way through jungle plants, Chihuly glass smashing all around me, and there, j u s t ahead of me, I saw Carl. He was r u n n i n g too, away from me. I couldn't catch up with him, t r y as I might. He dodged up the spiral staircase in the glasshouse a n d I pounded after him, hauling myself up two steps at a time. Then I was at the very top, r u n n i