Cross Her Heart(21)

I hadn’t thought about it. I haven’t answered Courtney’s messages but there’s no need for him to know that. Not while he’s clearly worrying about it. This isn’t how I expected love to be when I was little. I thought people fell in love and everything was perfect. I should have realised that wasn’t the case from my own family, but no one ever told me how selfish love is. How it eats you up. How many games you have to play to get what you want.

I don’t want you to see him, but that’s not fair on you.

My heart leaps.

Why? Are you jealous?

It’s too direct.

I’m annoyed at myself but I have to know. I don’t want him thinking I’ve been trying to make him jealous, which obviously I have.

A bit. He seems too young for you. You’re too mature for a boy like him. He’s not going to make you happy.

No, I answer. You make me happy. But you’re not here. We’ve never met. Courtney’s here.

I’m proud of myself. I’m making this his fault.

We should meet.

The words shock me so much that for a minute the screen blurs slightly. My palms sweat with a surge of adrenaline.

When?

Does that sound too demanding? But I want to know. I want to meet him now. I’d get out of bed and go anywhere he asked to see him in the flesh and talk to him and all the other stuff.

After your exams are over. About ten days? I’ll sort out a time and place and let you know. Will have to be at night, though. Is that okay?

Is that okay? I’m grinning so hard I think my face will split.

Yes, yes yes! xxxxxxxxx

I’m too excited for any more games. And it’s good for him to know how happy this makes me.

But keep it secret okay? Just us. It’ll be fun. No pressure.

My heart is exploding.

I promise I won’t tell a soul.

And I mean it. I won’t. Maybe afterwards I’ll tell the girls – if there’s something to tell – but not before. They’d probably want to come with me, and no way is that happening.

For a few moments he says nothing and then:

Sorry, gotta go. Miss you, Beautiful. See you soon. Xx

I sign off with about a hundred kisses and flop back on my pillows. We’re going to meet. We’re actually going to meet.

This is the best thing ever.





15


LISA

It’s been over a week and though I’ve started each day with a horrible worry about what it might bring, there’s been no more Frankie Vein, no more soggy rabbits in the street, no more missing pictures. For a few nights I upped my sleeping tablets, drowning myself in darkness and leaving my mornings fuzzy, but now, at last, the glue in my stomach is slowly coming unstuck. The weather has improved too, the rain making way for bright, warm sunshine. In this light and joy of summer it’s easier to convince myself it’s all been a coincidence.

Life has also settled down here at work with the new staff at PKR. It’s odd how quickly a set of people can become the status quo. Those gone to the new branch are like ghosts in my memory now and it’s quietly comforting – how easily people can be forgotten.

A giggle – quickly covered up – comes from across the room. Despite my initial thoughts that Stacey was too smart to fall for Toby’s smooth patter, it looks like I was wrong and their flirting is becoming quite obvious. Heat fills the spaces between them, a warm ocean undercurrent if you walk through it. Still, I can hardly comment, given that I’m going out for dinner with Simon tonight.

Dinner with Simon Manning. I feel sick with nerves. Not just nerves. It’s excitement too. A distraction from this unease – this fear – which has gripped me. But now I still have the fear and also all this. All this emotion. I’m not used to it. I have lived a dampened life. It’s been easier that way.

I haven’t told Marilyn yet and I should. I will. But I know how excited she’ll be which will add to the pressure for it to be something when I’m telling myself it’s only a friendly meal. Plus, the last thing I need is for any of the others here to pick up on something. I’m not keeping it exactly a secret, but I’m not telling anyone. I don’t think he has either.

I look at the clock. It’s nearly two o’clock. Ava will be in her final exam now – the last of her GCSEs. I still find it hard to believe my baby is nearly a sixth former. I imagine after the past few days she can’t wait for those last two years to fly by. It’s not been a good week for us. I’ve been too clingy – that song going round and round and round in my head tightening like a vice on my nerves, and I’ve been terrified every time she’s left my sight. I tried to look at her phone and iPad while she slept, but she has passwords on both. In return, she’s bitten my head off at every opportunity. I can hardly blame her.

I get my phone out and send her a quick text.

Hope the last exam went well! I’ve got some money for you in case you want to go out and celebrate with the girls. Remind me when I get home. Xx

I’ll give her fifty pounds. It’s a stupid amount, I know, and I ignore the voice in my head warning me that at her age it’s more likely to be bottles of vodka she’ll spend the money on. At least this way she and her friends can line their stomachs with a cheap pizza first. Anyway, they’re sporty girls. They wouldn’t risk their swimming by doing anything stupidly unhealthy. This is what I tell myself. The floating branch I cling to in the energetic uncontrollable torrent of my daughter’s life.