Blood Sisters(45)

Suddenly I feel a surge of disappointment. Yes, my stalker’s calls seem to have stopped. But it’s been a while now, and I’ve heard nothing from Clive.

Work commitments? He could still text, couldn’t he?

Then again, why am I bothered? I’ve been stupid, I realize now, to imagine I have a chance of happiness. Even if I do find the right person, he’ll leave me. As soon as he finds out what I’ve done.





33


June 2001


Ali


The summer house was at the bottom of the garden. Crispin was still pulling on my hand, gently leading me. A glittering cluster of fairy lights – blue, green and red – strung along the trees overhead, marked the way. The shrubbery made it darker than the part we’d just gone through. The distance from the house meant it was quieter too.

The wooden door creaked as Crispin opened it. No one was inside. A spider scooted out from a corner. There was a smell of apples from a wooden box in the corner. I felt excited and scared all at the same time.

‘Isn’t Robin here?’ I asked, looking around at the wicker sofa and matching chairs with rose-patterned cushions.

‘No. It’s just you and me, Ali.’ Crispin’s voice had an edge of amusement to it.

‘What do you mean?’

But even as I spoke, I had an inkling. I just wasn’t certain. Man-boys like Crispin didn’t go for girls like me. They were attracted to older versions of Kitty. Confident. Beautiful. Poised.

‘Do you know,’ said Crispin, grasping my hand, ‘how gorgeous you are?’

Gorgeous? Me?

‘That’s why I wanted you here.’ His hand was cupping my face and his mouth was so close to mine that I could smell his breath. Minty. Clean. As if he’d prepared for this. ‘You’re the only girl at school who hasn’t thrown herself at me. Now why is that?’

Because you’re way above me, I wanted to say. And even though you are stunning and do something to my insides, you’re not my type. I hadn’t even thought of this before. But now we were so close and his intentions to kiss me were – I thought – becoming clearer, I realized it was true. Crispin was too sure of himself. Too cocky. But above all, I didn’t feel comfortable with him.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve got the hots for that squirt Robin.’

That wasn’t fair. ‘He’s not a squirt,’ I said. ‘He’s my –’

I was going to say the word ‘friend’ but Crispin’s mouth was on mine before I could finish my sentence.

I’d like to say that I pulled away, but, to my horror, my mouth responded hungrily. Often, I’d imagined what it would be like to be kissed. The nearest I’d come to it was a fumble at the school dance when I was fifteen and a boy had stuck his tongue into my mouth briefly at the end. It had made me want to be sick.

Sometimes, to be honest, I’d wondered if there was something wrong with me. But now I knew there wasn’t. Everything in my body was dissolving at Crispin’s touch. Even though my brain was shouting ‘NO! NO!’

‘Get off.’ I finally backed away as his hands started to undo my jeans belt.

‘Face it, Ali. I can tell that, deep down, you want me, even though you pretend not to.’

That wasn’t true. Was it? I certainly had no intention of going this far. I knew very little about sex except that Mum had always told me it was best to wait until I’d been through university. ‘You don’t want to get into trouble and ruin your future,’ she’d said on more than one occasion. ‘Imagine if all your hard work was wasted.’

Some people might have considered this old-fashioned. But our seaside town was like that. If girls did ‘get into trouble’, they married young, like one of my primary school contemporaries last year. I knew that wasn’t for me. I was going to read history. Everything else could wait.

‘Come on, Ali.’

‘I said no.’ I pushed his chest.

But his force was stronger than mine. Somehow he’d undone my jeans. They were halfway down my legs. Trying to pull them up, I fell backwards. Rolling to the side, I tried to get up. But he was over me. ‘You want me. I can tell that from your kiss just now.’ He was grinning in the dusk. For a minute, there was a glimpse of doubt in his face. Then it went.

‘Please.’ I began to cry. ‘I didn’t mean it. Let me go …’

After that, there were only flashes. His mouth on mine. His skin on mine. Pain. ‘You’re hurting me!’ His grunts. My whimpers. The tapping of the trees outside on the window. Focus on that, I remember telling myself.

The worst thing was that, otherwise, I did nothing. Just lay there. Too shocked to try and run away. Besides, he was much heavier.

When he’d finished, I came back to myself. ‘My mates were right,’ he said, standing over me and buckling up his jeans. ‘You’re nothing special after all. Maybe I should wait until that sister of yours grows up a bit. I only wanted to find out what that Robin kid sees in you. Can’t stand that swot who thinks he’s so clever. At my old school, I was the one at the top of my class.’

So he’d done this to get back at Robin for being my friend.

He pushed my clothes at me. ‘Perhaps you’d better go home now. And if you tell anyone, I’ll say what a slut you were.’ He spat on the ground. ‘You didn’t even try to stop me, so don’t pretend it was rape.’