Seven Days(50)

‘She didn’t fall for my charm,’ Pablo said. ‘I think she prefers the younger ones. Like Jimmy here.’ He nodded towards the house. ‘You have a go. Ask to use the loo. Leave the door unlocked and she’ll be in there after you. She’s a proper horny housewife.’

‘You watch too much porn,’ Ricky said.

‘You can’t watch too much porn,’ Pablo replied. ‘Gotta keep the pipes clean. So, you going to have a go or not, Jimmy lad?’

James felt his cheeks flush. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘She’s a bit, I dunno, a bit old for me.’

Ricky laughed. ‘I remember when I could afford to be choosy. You got a girlfriend? That bird you were talking to last night in the pub?’

James shook his head. ‘That was a friend. My ex, actually.’

‘She was all right, mate,’ Pablo said. ‘You dump her or did she give you the elbow?’

She was Louise, and she had given him the elbow the summer before. Looking back, he could see she’d been right to. They’d been together a while and he’d become obsessed with her. He thought about her all the time. Every morning he called her before school; after school he made sure they met so he could walk her home. He started to hate it if she went out without him; he couldn’t stop himself calling and texting to see how she was.

Mainly to see where she was, if he was honest. Who she was with.

Whether she was with another guy.

And when he saw her again he would interrogate her.

Where were you?

Out with my friends.

Which friends?

My friends. The ones I’m always with.

Were there any other guys there?

In the pub? Yes. Of course. But—

I can’t believe it. You were flirting with other guys?

No!

And so it would go on. She would retreat from his questioning and he would interpret her retreat as evasiveness and ask more questions. It wasn’t an excuse, but the truth was he was terrified of losing her, like he had lost Maggie, and in the end that had driven her away.

After she dumped him, things hadn’t gone very well. He’d been sure he could talk her round, if only he had the chance. She didn’t want to give him the chance, so he had called her a few times. Sent some letters and emails. Text messages, too.

Quite a few.

A lot, in truth. Six or seven a day, along with a handful of unannounced visits to her house, the last of them after a night in the pub the week before he started his last year of school.

He managed to hit her window with some pebbles, but she didn’t respond.

Louise, he called in a loud whisper. I only want to say hello.

After a while, the porch light came on and the front door opened. Finally. He could talk to her.

Her dad came out in his pyjamas, his face hard and fixed.

James, he said. You need to leave. Now.

I just want to have a word with her.

He shook his head. No. And you have to stop harassing her. I like you, and I know you had a hard time, which is the only reason me and her mum haven’t called the police in the last few weeks – although Janet wanted to, I can tell you that – but it has to stop now. OK? Go and get on with the rest of your life.

Which was what James had done. He’d woken up the next morning, head throbbing, and reached for his phone – see if she’d called, maybe try her with a message – and then stopped himself.

He pictured himself outside her window, drunk and pathetic.

Her dad was right. It had to stop.

And so he resisted the urge to contact her for the next week, and then started school and his last year of A levels and a life without Louise.

He thought about her many times a day at first, but after a while she receded from his mind, her place taken by friends and nights out and beer and weed and whatever other distractions he could find.

But no other girlfriends. He couldn’t go through it again, couldn’t put himself in the position where he was so vulnerable. The loss of Maggie would never go away, but he was over Louise, finally, and he wasn’t going back.

And he was finally over her. It had taken a year, but now he could see her when he was out and he was OK with it. Like last night in the pub. She had come over and smiled.

Hi, she said. How are you? We haven’t talked in ages. It’s a shame.

Good. You?

OK. You getting ready to go to university?

Yeah. Engineering at Warwick.

I’m going to do English at Liverpool. She touched his arm. We should meet up before we go.

Meet up? For a long time hearing those words had been the thing he wanted most in the world, and now he had heard them, and he felt nothing.

The relief made him dizzy.

I don’t know, he said. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes. The last time she had heard from him he’d been begging to talk to her, and now he wasn’t interested in her offer of meeting up.

Sure, she said, her smile forced. I was only thinking of a coffee. Nothing serious. Not like a date or anything.

It’s not that, he said. It’s just – I have a girlfriend.

He didn’t, but it seemed the easiest excuse.

Louise gave a little shrug. Whatever. She glanced around until she saw a friend, Rachel. Enjoy summer. See you around.

He watched her go. Life had moved on. He had moved on.