A Quiet Kind of Thunder(35)

He kisses my painted black nose, softly so it won’t smudge. You look amazing.

Thanks! I take a step back and gesture to Tem, who is watching us in the same kind of way a bird would after its chicks had managed to fly for the first time. ‘This is Tem.’ I say the words out loud and sign them.

‘Hi!’ Tem says, bounding forward.

Rhys grins. ‘Hi,’ he says out loud. To me, he adds, Panda number two?

I laugh. ‘I’m Panda number two. Tem is number one.’

He shakes his head. Not to me.

It’s cheesy. It’s silly. But I beam as if my whole body has been filled with happy juice.

‘Shall we go in?’ I suggest.

Tem looks at me as if I’ve just sprouted wings right in front of her. ‘Since when are you so keen?’

Rhys takes my hand and smiles at me, nodding his head in the direction of the house. Yes, he is saying without words. Let’s go in.

‘Come on,’ I say to Tem. My bubbling happiness comes out as laughter. ‘We don’t want to miss the party.’

My bravado fades as soon as I get inside the front door. The house is almost humming it’s so loud, with music pumping from somewhere further inside. There are people everywhere, all of them total strangers, drinking, smoking and talking. Talking loudly.

I pull my hood up right over my head and peek out under it. My heart is pounding inside my throat.

‘Holy shit!’ someone shouts, and for a second I think they’re talking to me. But of course they’re directing the words at Tem. ‘That is some fucking costume.’

Tem grins. ‘Oh, this old thing?’ She reaches out both her arms and the guy who spoke – he’s dressed as Elsa from Frozen – lifts her into an elaborate hug.

‘Damn,’ he says, putting his hands on her hips and surveying the whole outfit. ‘When you said panda, I thought you meant, like . . .’ He searches for the word, spots me and clicks his fingers. ‘Like that!’

I want to raise my eyebrows and say sarcastically, Thanks, dude. But I can’t. The words just aren’t there; that’s what it feels like. As if the words I form in my brain have got stuck there instead of zipping down the neural superhighway to my mouth.

‘That’s what I was going to wear,’ Tem says, filling my silence as always, so naturally no one who wasn’t me would notice anything unusual. ‘But Steffi got there first, so I had to make do. Max, this is Steffi.’

‘Ah, the famous Steffi,’ Max says, beaming at me. ‘You make a very fine panda.’

I give him a thumbs up to cover the fact that I can’t reply and he grins, amiable.

‘And this is Rhys,’ Tem adds, gesturing.

‘Awesome costume.’ Max nods.

‘Thanks,’ Rhys says. I feel his hand take hold of mine and give it a quick squeeze before letting go.

‘Where are the drinks?’ Tem asks.

‘Kitchen,’ Max says. ‘Follow me, my lady.’

‘I can’t believe you’re wearing that,’ Tem says as she starts to follow him. Rhys and I glance at each other, then fall into step behind her.

‘Elsa is queen,’ Max says. He throws a grin over his shoulder. ‘And so am I.’

The kitchen seems to have more people in it than the rest of the house combined and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. I wonder if I can pour myself a glass of water without attracting any attention, but when I turn I find Rhys standing next to me, carefully pouring a can of Coke into a cup for me. He presents it, smiling.

Thank you. I make the sign as pronounced as I can for emphasis.

He puts his bottle of cider on the counter to free his hands, then quickly asks, Shall we go outside?

I nod, then reach out a finger to poke Tem. ‘Want to come outside with us?’

‘Sure,’ she says gamely. ‘See you later, Max.’

‘Where’s Karam?’ I ask her as we go.

She shrugs. ‘I’m sure we’ll find him soon.’

We do, eventually. After about half an hour of the three of us sitting on a blanket laid out on the grass and making a three-way conversation about mimes and pandas, her whole posture suddenly changes and she stops mid-sentence.

The boy she’s looking at has appeared on the patio with a couple of other guys, a beer in hand. He has the easy command of everyone around him, the way some people seem to be able to do effortlessly. His dark hair is messy, but in a constructed way, and the stubble on his chin makes him look older than the eighteen years Tem described. Even though he’s smiling there’s a seriousness to his face, a perma-crease in his forehead. As he walks in our direction, flanked by friends, I see a thin silver chain round his neck, falling beneath his plain T-shirt.

He doesn’t look like a boy, is what I mean. He looks like a man.

‘Oh, hey,’ he says, pausing as he passes us, spotting Tem. ‘You made it.’

‘Hi,’ Tem says, her voice higher than usual. She jumps to her feet to stand beside him, but neither makes a move to kiss hello. ‘Come meet my friends?’ There’s a hopefulness in her voice that surprises me, as if she is steeling herself for a no.

‘Of course,’ he says, smiling as he turns to us. He drops casually to his knees on the blanket. ‘Hiya. I’m Karam.’

‘This is Steffi,’ Tem says, pointing at me.