Tutelam Venit : Book One – A Good Man
Marc Nobbs
Parkland Publishing
Northampton, UK
Smashwords Edition published 2011 by Parkland Publishing
Text © 2011 Marc Nobbs
Cover art © 2011 Marc Nobbs
This is a work of fiction and is intended for adults only. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Other Books by Marc Nobbs
Kissed by a Rose
Lost & Found
Charlotte’s Secret
Ladz Local Lovelies 56 : Laura
Ladz Local Lovelies 62 : Rebecca
Ladz Local Lovelies 65 : Carla
Prologue:You’re Going to Miss Him
JUNE 2048
I held out my hand to the elegant elderly lady in the long black dress, then stepped forward to kiss her cheek when she took it. Despite being in her seventies, Amy Brown had all the poise, grace and beauty of a woman at least half her age. She pulled me in for a hug and held me tight. I had a great deal affection for her, although I wasn’t as close to her as I was to her husband.
Will had been like a father to me from the time my real father was lost. But more than that—more than being my mentor, my teacher and then my business partner—he was also my friend. His death was not unexpected. He’d been ill for some time. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
I pulled away from Amy and held both her hands. “It was a beautiful service,” I said. “Will would’ve approved.”
She smiled and nodded, tears forming in her eyes. “He loved you,” she said. “You were the son he never had.”
“I loved him too.” I said, my voice faltering.
Death has played a significant part in my life. Yes, I’m a Probate Lawyer, so I deal with those left behind by Death every day, but that’s not what I mean. Death has haunted me, followed me and taunted me. I’ve lost ones I love. I’ve loved ones I lost. And when Death has interfered, it’s changed my life, sent it off in at a tangent. But if it weren’t for Death, I wouldn’t be the man I am today. Death made me stronger. Although it never felt that way at the time.
“Ready to go, Honey?” my wife asked as she touched my arm.
I looked into her eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that always seemed as if they were seeing right into my soul, even after all these years together. As I stared, she smiled the stunning smile that had captured my heart in our youth and never let go.
I nodded. “Yeah. Time to go.”
She addressed Amy and said, “If you need anything, just call. We’re here for you, whatever and whenever.”
Amy smiled in response. “Thank you.”
We left Meadowview Cottage and I drove us home to Blackthorpe. Nothing was said on the journey. Nothing needed to be said. After entering our large house, I closed the door behind us and tossed my keys on the shelf above the radiator in the hallway.
When I turned around, she wrapped her arms around my neck and reached up to kiss me. A sweet slow burning kiss. The kiss of two people still in love despite more than thirty years together.
“I love you,” she said.
“Love you too.”
“It’s days like today that remind me how much, you know?”
I nodded.
“You’re going to miss him, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
She took her arms from around my neck and held my hands instead then cocked her head towards the stairs. “Come on, I want to show you just how much you mean to me.”
I let her lead me up the stairs and into our bedroom, where she kissed me again. She undressed me while we kissed, then tipped her head back and sighed as I undressed her, lavishing each area of exposed skin with kisses until she was naked. Even at fifty-five she was a sight to behold. Her sunny blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders, straight and sleek with no hint of grey. Her eyes, still as vibrant and vividly blue as the day I met her, but these days edged with crow’s feet concealed by her delicate make-up, sparkled with love and lust. Her breasts, hanging heavier on her frame than when she was a young woman, nevertheless still looked good enough to eat. How could I resist?
She moaned her pleasure and held my head to her chest. She still had such responsive breasts—another thing that age could not diminish. We tumbled onto the bed and I slid a hand down her torso to dip into the source of her femininity. She moaned again and pulled my head away from her breast by my ears, and tugging me towards her face for another long, loving kiss.
“Make love to me, Paul,” she said in a voice only just more than a whisper. “Make love to me.”
*****
As we lay in each other’s arms afterwards, my mind drifted back in time, thinking back on the choices I’d made that led me to her. Death played its part, yes, but it was the choices I made that were more important.
And the choice that started it all?
Chapter 1:Mister not My Cester
AUGUST 2010
I’m Paul Robertson, I’m seventeen and I’m nothing special. I’m not rich. I’m not a sports hero or in the town’s brass band or a member down The Vic. I’m just me. I do okay in school but I’m not top of the class or anything—heaven forbid. Girls are allowed to be a brain, but not guys. We have to be good at football or cricket instead. Well, it would have to be football in my case—cricket is for the villagers, not the townies. Still, I do well enough in school that I’m confident of getting a place at decent university next autumn if I don’t mess up my exams. Vicky, my big sister, wants me to go to Westmouth since it’s so close. She says I could live at home and save some money. But, honestly, I want to get as far away from Micester as I can.
Still, that’s next autumn and I don’t have to decide where I’m going until the spring at the earliest. Hell, I could even leave it until the end of next summer and chance my hand through clearing. But this autumn, I got to go back to Micester High. Not something to look forward to. Of course, I didn’t realise that my whole world was about to be flipped on its axis and start rotating in the wrong direction, now did I?
*****
There can’t be many towns in Britain like Micester. And before you try and get your tongue around it, it’s pronounced ‘Mister’, as in ‘Mr Smith’, not “My Cester” or “Me Cester” or something like that. I can’t tell you how much it annoys the townsfolk when outsiders get it wrong. But anyway, where was I?
Oh, yeah. There can’t be many towns in Britain like Micester. The story goes that the town was originally a small Roman settlement, a stop off point on the road from Westmouth to London. That makes it as old as Westmouth and older than Walminster, the two biggest towns in Westmouthshire. But up until the mid-eighteen-hundreds it was nothing more than an insignificant village like so many other small insignificant villages across the country. Then in 1848—they drum the date into us from an early age at Micester’s primary schools—the local landowner, Lord Liddington, opened a textile factory with his partner from Westmouth, William Phipps.
The pair built a whole town for their workers around the new factory—houses, schools, a high street full of shops. Even a sports ground. They built them all. And they were pretty good bosses too by all accounts. The workers were treated a hell of lot better than most at that time. But over the past century and a half, even though Liddington-Phipps continued to operate, the town never grew above a population of ten thousand—meanwhile Westmouth grew to hundred thousand and Walminster even bigger.
Its relatively small size meant that the town has always been fairly close-knit, more like a big village really than a small town. Everyone knows everyone and everyone knows everyone’s business. And everyone certainly knows the business of the Liddington family, who still own a majority share of the factory that still dominates the town.
How do I know that? Well, it’s like I said, everyone knows. Liddington-Phipps is the biggest influence on the town and the surrounding villages. If you live in Micester, chances are you work at the factory or you’re related to someone who works at the factory or you work in a business that relies on the factory. Both my parents worked there, until the accident, and I think they expected me to walk straight onto the shop floor when I left school. But I have no intention of doing so. Not me. No sir. As soon as I can, I’m out of here.
*****
I worked part-time—weekends and a few weeknights if they needed me—waiting tables in the restaurant at Micester Hall, the one-time home of Lord Liddington vacated by the family in the eighties and converted into a country club and hotel, complete with spa and golf club. Vicky got me the job. She’s a junior chef in the restaurant. You don’t get any job in this town unless you have connections or are supremely talented. Lucky for Vic, she’s supremely talented. I expected she’d be head chef one day, she really was that good.
Over the summer, I’d taken every shift I could get—sometimes working lunch and dinner. The idea was to save as much money as I could to enable me to get out of Micester when the time came. The last weekend in August, a week before school was due to start, there was a big wedding at Micester Hall. Christine Liddington was marrying Jake Rogers, a minor local celebrity.
Micester had a semi-pro football team, Micester Town, that was very much part of the town’s identity. It was a couple of rungs down the ladder from the professional leagues, but that’s not surprising since part of the clubs constitution stated that all players had to be dyed-in-the-wool locals. Most of the players worked up at the factory and got special privileges for being part of the team. Jake Rogers had been one of only a handful of former players talent-spotted and bought by a bigger club. He’d played mostly in the second tier, but hit the big time for a couple of seasons in the mid-noughties. The town was certainly buzzing about that, I can tell you. I remember all the shops had posters of him in the windows. Now, he was back to be the player-manager of Micester Town and had big ambitions about taking the club higher up the pyramid. How the hell he’d managed to land the Liddington widow to boot was anybody’s guess. But he had.
I worked the reception, carrying plates of nibbles, serving Champagne and then finally waiting tables when the great and the good of East Westmouthshire sat down to eat. Most of them probably didn’t even register that I was there. I guess that type don’t notice the hired help. Not even Clarissa, who I’d shared classes with for the past six years. But then, why would she? She was a Liddington. One of The Villagers. The Head Villager. She was biding her time in school until she could pick from any number of rich suitors, settle down and punch out the next generation of the town’s elite.
After the meal, I helped clear the tables and as the bride and groom took their first dance, I went on my break. I grabbed a Coke and slipped out onto the patio behind the reception room. The velvet curtains were drawn so I couldn’t see what was going on inside and no-one inside could see me. That suited me just fine, thank you very much. I threw myself into a chair in the shadows away from the French doors, popped the can and tried to relax for the only twenty minutes I was going to get that night. Soon it would be back to topping up glasses and passing around trays of finger food.
About half way through my break, a commotion by the French doors drew my attention. Jake dragged Clarissa onto the patio by the arm as she put up a futile attempt to resist him. He looked around—to make sure no one was about, presumably. He either didn’t see me in the shadows or didn’t think one of the help was important enough to worry about. Still gripping her arm tightly, he yanked her around so that she was facing him and said, “You will do as you are told, young lady!”
“Ow. Let go, you’re hurting me.”
“And I’ll hurt you a lot more if you don’t do as you are told! You embarrassed me in there.”
“I told you, I’m not dancing with that ape. Or any of your other star players.”
“Now look here, you are my responsibility now and while you are living under my roof, you will do as I tell you. Now, get back in there and dance with Del, and with anyone else in the team that asks. Then next week, you and Del will start dating. It’s for the good of the team and the good of the town. Do you hear me Clarissa Rogers?”
She stopped struggling and stared back defiantly. “My name is Clarissa Liddington and you are not my father,” she spat, the venom of hatred dripping from every word. “You are just some man that Mom married. And it’s not your roof I’m living under, it’s Mom’s. You can’t tell me what to do.” She stamped her foot to emphasise her point.
Jake quickly raised his hand and slapped Clarissa across the face, making her yelp. That was the final straw. I stood and slid out of the shadows. As Jake raised his hand again, I said, with more confidence in my voice than I actually felt, “That’s enough!”
They both snapped their heads around to look at me. I can only imagine how I appeared to them coming out of the dark. I may not be the big sports hero type, but I’m not a small, skinny guy either. I drew myself up to my full six foot two, puffed out my chest and strode forward.
“Back off, son. This is none of your business,” Jake said as he pointed towards me.
“When I see some bloke hitting a girl, I make it my business.”
“I’ll say it again, this is none of your business. Walk away before you find yourself in it up to here.” He gestured to his throat. That must have been the moment he recognised my staff uniform because he added. “Don’t you have drinks to serve? Go back to work.”
Clarissa wrenched her arm from his grip and ran towards me. Jake made to come after her but I stepped forward and put myself between him and her and I nodded to the doors. “Go on, back inside. I’m sure your wife is wondering where you’ve gone.”
He bristled and visibly bit back a reply, then turned on his heel and walked towards the door. Before he rejoined the party, he added, “Big mistake, son. Big mistake.”
Behind me, Clarissa quietly sobbed. I turned around and said, “Are you okay?”
She shook her head. I opened my arms and she fell into them, her head on my chest as her tears wet my shirt. I didn’t say anything. I just held her.
I can’t tell you how many years I’d dreamed of holding Clarissa Liddington. Holding her close. Touching her. Caressing her. But I always knew it was an unobtainable fantasy. She was a Liddington. The Liddington. The Heiress. And now, here she was, in my arms. Only, I never imagined it would be like this. I didn’t caress her. Didn’t stroke her back. I just held her until she stopped crying.
She stepped back, stood up straight and took a deep breath. “I... I’d better go back. Mom will be looking me.”
I nodded. “My break’s just about over, so I better get back too.” I smiled. “You might want to visit the ladies room first though and fix your make-up.”
She nodded, smiled and was gone. Guess she figured comforting the beaten stepchild was just part of the help’s job.
Chapter 2:First Day of School
The first day back at school was exactly like it had been for the last six years. The new Year Seven kids looked scared, nervous and, this year in particular, really, really small, although I guess I was just bigger than I used to be. During the first two periods, we were given a bunch of forms to fill in and we had to work out our timetables.
As it turned out, my first classes of the week should have been periods one and two, but, obviously, they weren’t because we were too busy filling in the forms and shit. I had frees during periods three and four—sorry, I mean, I had self-directed study time during periods three and four—which meant my first proper class wasn’t until after lunch. English Lit with Miss Pattison.
My friends weren’t quite so lucky and all had lessons while I faced the prospect of sitting in the library alone for two hours with nothing to do. It wouldn’t be too bad once we got into the swing of things. I was doing four A-levels, each one taking up six of the thirty weekly timetabled periods. That left me with six frees—sorry, self-directed study periods—and having two of them together like this, when none of my friends were about, would mean I wouldn’t get distracted and would get more studying done. But on that first day, there wasn’t yet anything for me to study.
So, I had to find something to do while I waited for lunch on that first day. I decided to look through some of the university prospectuses that were kept in the library. I was pretty sure what I wanted to do at uni—Law. I guess the lawyer that sorted things out for Vicky and me after the accident inspired me. But I didn’t know where I wanted to go. Vicky kept on to me about how convenient Westmouth would be, and she was right, it would be convenient. And it wasn’t like it was a bad university. It had a good reputation but...
A delicate cough interrupted my thoughts. I looked up from the Westmouth prospectus to see Clarissa standing at the end of the table. Her loose golden curls perfectly framed an impossibly pretty face with high cheekbones, perfect button nose and piercing sapphire eyes. Yet despite her immaculate appearance—white blouse, black, knee-length skirt and matching heels—and her air of effortless elegance, she looked nervous, demure even, as she held her hands in front of her.
“Hi,” she said with a shy half-smile. “Mind if I sit with you?” There was something about her tone, although I wasn’t sure what it was. Fear? Hope? Or maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe she was just nervous. I certainly knew how that felt.
I shook my head and waved towards the empty seats, too dumbfounded to speak. In all the time we’d been in the same school, I couldn’t recall ever having a single conversation with Clarissa Liddington. It wasn’t done. I was a Townie after all.
There were two very clearly defined cliques at Micester High—The Villagers and the Townies. The Townies lived, as you can imagine, on the rabbit-warren estates in town. Their parents generally worked up at the factory or in one of the many businesses that serviced it. The Villagers, meanwhile, were the school’s upper crust. Their homes were in the outrageously expensive outlying villages and they were the sons and daughters of lawyers, accountants, city and bank managers or their parents were managers or board members of local businesses.
The Villagers and the Townies. Two cliques and never the twain shall meet. So Clarissa Liddington, The Head Villager, asking to sit at the same table as me? I’ll admit, it threw me.
She pulled out a chair and sat with a straight back and her hands together on the table in front of her. It wasn’t that she looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t look at ease either. Like I said, it was probably just nerves. And perhaps she was working out what to say. Or how to say it.
“Paul, I...” She paused and looked down at her hands. I’m ashamed to say I was surprised she even knew my name. I shouldn’t have been, we were in the same year after all, but I was. That’s the Great Divide for you.
She looked up at me and appeared to steel herself, taking a short breath before she said, “I never got to thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“For what you did at the wedding.”
“Oh. That’s okay. I was just—”
“You weren’t just anything.” Her eyes went wide as she interrupted me. “It took a lot of guts to stand up to Jake like that.”
I shrugged. Maybe it did, but he backed off a lot easier than I expected. Maybe his reputation wasn’t deserved.
“I mean it.” She reached out to touch my hand, but only for a second before she pulled away again quickly, as if she’d just stuck her hand in a fire. “I don’t know anyone else that would have done that. Then afterwards...” She held her hands in front of her again and stared at them as she shook her head. Then she looked up at me, holding my gaze and said, “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
The intensity of her stare was almost frightening. She meant what she was saying, that much was obvious. It was right there, in those penetrating blue eyes. “That all I needed was a hug. How did you know that? Most people would have kept asking if I was okay, or tried to get me to talk about it or...” She looked away and shuddered before looking back. “I can name more than a few guys who’d have tried to kop a feel. But you...”
A shrug. A tilt of her head. A softening of her eyes. Damn, she looked beautiful at that moment. Beautiful and vulnerable. I wanted to hug her again. To protect her. From what, I wasn’t sure, but from something. But instead, I sat still.
“I just wanted to say thank you.”
I nodded and said, “You’re welcome.”
She smiled.
I said she looked beautiful before, but it was nothing compared to when she smiled. It was a big, infectious, luminous smile. So bright and beautiful that I felt if I stared too long it would damage my eyes—like staring at the sun or something.
She didn’t just smile with her mouth, but with her whole face. Her whole body even. She seemed to glow. Damn, that smile was enough to make a grown man fall to his knees and give thanks to whichever God had blessed her with it. Seeing her smile, made you want to smile. Made you feel happy, if only for a short time. So knowing I was the one that had made her smile? That felt good. Really, really good.
“Great,” she said. “I, er... I guess I’ll see you later. You’ll be in Miss Pattison’s English class, right?”
“Yeah.”
“See you there then.” And she was gone. And just like that, the order of things at Micester High, or at least, what I thought was the order of things, had altered ever so slightly.
*****
With a free period right before lunch, I was naturally one of the first into the canteen. I sat at a table for four and soon enough Kevin Bootes and Billy Jackson, my two best friends, joined me.
“What up, Paul.”
“What up, yourself, Kev.”
“Hey, you see The High Princesses today? Totally hot, Slim.” Billy called everyone Slim, for some reason I’d never quite worked out. The High Princesses in question were Clarissa and her two best friends, Emily White and Grace Adams.
“Totally hot and totally unobtainable,” said Kevin. “The only Townie likely to get anywhere with one of those two is Del Stevens or one of Jake Rogers’ other hot-shots. Besides, you already have a girlfriend.”
“Hey, just ‘cause I got sweet little roadster don’t mean I can’t dream of test driving a Ferrari, now does it.”
“It does when the roadster in question will likely cut your dick off if you even think about it,” I said. “You don’t want to mess with Ellie. She’s a wild one.”
“And you’d know, Slim?”
“She dumped me, didn’t she? I showed you the bruises, right?”
“That you did,” said Kevin. “Man, I can’t believe you cheated on her, you dumb fuck.”
“Hey, I was fifteen. It’s not my fault.”
Ellie Wells and I had dated for about four months back in Year Ten before she caught me playing tonsil hockey with another girl at a party. Shit, was that ever a mistake. And one I learned from, I can assure you.
“Hey, you guys hear about the Quilters after match party in Del’s basement?” Billy asked. ‘The Quilters’ was Micester Town’s nickname because one of Liddington-Phipps’ main products was quilted bedspreads.
“Let me guess,” I said, “Del and a couple of the other blockheads on the team took some slut down there and banged hell out of her.” The after-match gangbangs weren’t exactly a secret, more of a team tradition.
“Not just any slut.”
“Who?”
Billy suddenly clammed up. He didn’t look as if he was going to share the name any time soon.
“Well? You can’t dangle something like that out there and then not tell me.”
“Kelly Anderson.”
“You’re shitting me,” said Kevin.
“You mean...? Not my Kelly Anderson.”
“How many Kelly Andersons do you think there are in this town, Slim.”
I glared at Billy.
“Well, she’s not really your Kelly any more is she?” said Kevin. “I mean, she dumped you, like, over a year ago.”
“I know, but, shit, man, we’re still friends. You’ve got to be wrong, Bils. There’s no way Kels would do something like that.”
“Ask her, man. She’s not exactly hiding it. She enjoyed it apparently.”
I stared towards the lunch queue, not really looking at it, lost in thought. Could Kelly really get into a gangbang with the Quilters? Surely not.
I scanned along the line, hoping to see Kelly. It was true that we were still friends, and I knew if I asked her outright she’d tell me the truth, but rather than Kelly, it was Clarissa that caught my eye. She smiled, lighting up the whole room, and waved. Still somewhat dazed, both by my little tête-à-tête with Clarissa in the library and the news about Kelly, I lifted my hand and waved back. Her grin grew even wider then she turned and started talking to Emily—a near carbon copy of Clarissa if not for her dark hair compared to Clarissa’s honey blonde.
“Slim, is it me or did The Head Villager just wave at you.”
I looked at Billy, stunned further by the extra degree on which the world’s axis had just tilted. “Sorry. What?”
“She did. Man, you’re in with The Lid!” He snapped his fingers together in mid air.
“Don’t be daft, Bils. She’s just being polite.”
“Slim, The Lid ain’t polite to anyone, much less a Townie like you. I mean, she don’t have to be does she? She’s The Head Villager for fuck’s sake. I tell you, Slim, you’re in. I mean, she’ll probably just bang you for a couple of weeks then move on, but what a couple of weeks, huh.”
“Bils,” said Kevin, “The Ice Princess over there doesn’t bang anyone. At least, not that anyone knows of. The way I hear it is that she has to be a virgin on her eighteenth birthday or she loses her inheritance. And her Daddy left her a hell of an inheritance.”
I tuned out Kevin and Billy as they discussed the town’s favourite topic. Truth was that no-one knew the conditions of her late father’s will or what her inheritance was likely to be. Except for her. That didn’t stop everyone in Micester from pretending they had inside information though.
Chapter 3:The World Turned on its Head
Periods five and six, the whole of the afternoon session, consisted of double English Literature. Hannah Pattison was a great teacher, one of my favourites and probably one of everyone else’s favourites too, and I always looked forward to her lessons. She had this way of prodding your thinking in the right direction so you could see stuff in a story that you would never have seen on your own, or rather you’d have seen it but not realised you’d seen it, if that makes any sense.
English Lit was probably the most subscribed of all the A-level courses so while in some of my lessons, like French, I could get a desk designed for two all to myself, there was no such luck in English.
Miss Pattison liked us to sit with one boy and one girl at each double desk for some reason. I asked her about it once after class last year expecting her to say it was something to do with controlling the behaviour in a class or something, but instead she told me that because the different sexes looked at literature from different angles and putting them together gave a more balanced picture. Then she laughed and said that if she could play matchmaker too it was a bonus.
I was one of the first to class that first day and sat at the desk I’d sat at the previous year, expecting Kelly to sit next to me like she had last year. Like I said, she might have dumped me but we were still good friends. And even if I didn’t get to talk to her about what did or didn’t happen at the weekend, I wanted her to know we were still friends no matter what.
But if Clarissa had made my day weird up to that point, she was about to flip it completely on its head.
She, Emily and Grace strode into the room with their usual air of confidence—although some would call it arrogance. There were more girls than boys in this class, so Miss Pattison’s ideal seating arrangements took a hit and last year, Clarissa had sat with Emily. But this year...
“This seat taken?” she asked, gesturing to the seat next to mine with her books.
I looked at her wide-eyed. “N... No. Not really. I mean, I thought that—”
“Do you mind?”
I shut up and shook my head. This wasn’t happening. Or if it was, she was setting me up for something. And if she was, there wasn’t a lot I could do about it. I mean, you didn’t tell Clarissa Liddington she couldn’t sit next to you. You didn’t tell Clarissa Liddington she couldn’t do anything.
“Great,” she said with a solar-bright smile as she sat down. Grace and Emily sat at the table in front of us. Clarissa flashed me another of those knockout smiles and said, “Thanks.”
In front of us, Grace and Emily giggled.
What the hell had just happened? Before I could work anything out, Kelly and most of the rest of the class came in. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me. Confusion spread across her face, then a hint of anger, and finally resignation. She raised her eyebrow in question and she quickly picked up on my own confusion from the look on my face, shrugged and found another seat.
Miss Pattison walked in carrying a pile of novels, which she immediately started passing out. She hesitated when she got to my desk, looked at me, at Clarissa and then at me again. Seems like I wasn’t the only one who thought there was something wrong with this picture. Still, Miss Pattison smiled and handed Clarissa two copies of the book. She passed one to me with another of her knockout smiles.
“I love Austen,” she said, enthusiastically. I looked at the cover. Pride & Prejudice, why was I not surprised? It seemed like a very Miss Pattison choice of book.
After Miss Pattison had finished handing out the books to the rest of the class and deposited the spare copies on her desk, she turned to face us, holding up her copy. “So, who’s read it?”
A whole bunch of hands went up, I didn’t count how many, but did notice they were all girls—including Clarissa.
“Anyone care to summarise the plot? Clarissa?”
Clarissa put her hand down and straightened her back. “It’s a love story. Basically, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy are destined to be together but neither of them can see it, or will admit it, because they don’t believe society would allow them to be a couple. She thinks he’s too good for her and he thinks she’s beneath him. Except that they don’t, not really, they just think like that because everybody thinks they should. It’s sort of complicated.”
“I hear that Chloe Goodman’s going to play Elizabeth in an American remake of the mini-series,” said Emily.
“Oh, she’d be perfect,” said someone from the other side of the room.
“Nah,” said another voice, “She’d be too old by now, wouldn’t she?”
“She still looks young though,” said someone else.
“Yes, yes,” said Miss Pattison, nodding. “Well, we shall see. I hear the project been put on hold, but we’re not here to talk about any television adaptations, we’re here to talk about the novel and it’s those complexities that Clarissa mentioned that we will explore. So, any volunteers to start the first chapter? Paul?”
Resigned, I nodded and opened the book. I’d have to read at some point because she always made everyone in the class read aloud at least once a week. She said it was good practice. Practice for what, I’m not entirely sure. I took a deep breath and began.
“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. However little known...”
*****
After the lesson, Clarissa smiled at me as she rose from her chair then hurried away with Emily and Grace. Kelly stood with her arms crossed across her chest, her eyebrow arched, as she waited for me to gather my stuff and cram it into my bag.
“Sitting with Clarissa Liddington?” she asked when I looked up. “I’m not good enough for you any more, huh?”
I gave her what I thought was my friendliest smile. “If I remember right, I wasn’t good enough for you. That’s why you dumped me. You, on the other hand, will always be good enough for me. Maybe too good.”
She rolled her eyes. “So when did up become down and the Head Villager start sitting with a Townie?”
“I don’t know. Last time I saw her before today I was waiting tables at the big wedding—”
“Bet that was fun.”
“—Then today she comes by to say hello, third period while I was in the library, and then she asks if she can sit next to me at the start of this lesson.” It wasn’t exactly the whole truth, but I wasn’t about to break Clarissa’s confidence about what happened at the wedding. There was always enough gossip going around the school without me adding to it.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll find out what her game is in good time.”
“Maybe she’s not playing any games.”
“You’re kidding, right? The Head Villager, not playing games? It’s all she does. It’s, like, her job or something.”
“Whatever.” I looked at my watch. “Walk home with me? Or do you have some after-school thing?”
“First day back? No way. So, yes, I’ll walk home with you. If you still want to be seen with me that is.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She smirked. “You can’t tell me you haven’t heard what happened on Saturday. Everyone else has.”
I nodded. “Billy might have mentioned it. So it’s true then?”
Her cheeks heated and she nodded. “Do you hate me?”
“Why would I?”
“For being a slut.”
“You’re not—”
“It’s what everyone’s saying. Kelly the Quilters Slut.”
“Yeah, well, when have I ever been known to listen to what everybody’s saying, let alone care?”
We’d wandered out of the classroom and walked towards the front of the building. Being the oldest in the school had its privileges and using the same main entrance as the teachers was one of them.
“So you really don’t hate me?”
I stopped walking. Kelly stopped too and faced me. “What?”
“I could never hate you. Never. You understand?”
“Even though I broke your heart.”
“It had to get broken for the first time by someone. I’m glad it was you. Glad because to get my heart broken I got to love you in the first place and glad because we were able to stay friends after it.”
She offered me one of the special smiles she used to save for me when we were going out. Even now, a year after she dumped me, those smiles still sent chills up my spine.
“Look, I’m sure you had a reason for doing whatever you did on Saturday, and before you start, I really don’t need to hear the details of what went on, okay?”
“Okay,” she said with a laugh.
“And whatever your reason... Well, you’re still my Kelly.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Your Kelly?”
“You’ll always be my Kelly. Even in fifty years when we’re both old and grey, suffering from dementia and being pushed around in a wheelchair by our respective spouses, you’ll still be my Kelly. You were my first love. No one can ever change that. You’ll always be special to me.”
“Even though we both know we’ll never end up together.”
“Especially because we know we’ll never end up together. You were right, if we’d stayed together, we’d have killed each other. And this school has enough gossip without a joint homicide.”
She shook her head. “I love you, you know. I mean... Not like that. But...”
We started walking again. When we were outside in the early evening September sun, I asked, “So what was the reason?”
“Huh?”
“Saturday. You had a reason, right? What was it?”
She thought for a second. “I guess... I guess I just wanted to try it. I mean... Look, you were good, real good, but...”
“It was one of your fantasies, wasn’t it? You told me that once, I’m sure you did.”
She blushed.
“It’s okay. I get it. I think.”
“I knew you would. I just wish everyone else would.”
“Don’t sweat it. It’ll be someone else next week. Someone else the week after that.”
“I guess. I just hope this doesn’t follow me around for the rest of my life.”
“It won’t.”
“You sound more confident about that than I feel.”
We walked on in silence for a few minutes then I asked, “So... How was it?”
She gave me a sideways glance. “I thought you didn’t want details.”
“I didn’t ask for details. Just... you know, in general, how was it?”
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“Fucking amazing!”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve never come so many times, or so hard. But you know what?”
“What?”
“I don’t think it was so much who I was doing it with, as what I was doing. Does that make sense?”
“Sort of. I guess.”
“It’s like... You made me come, you know that right? You took the time to learn how to touch me the way I liked to be touched and you could make me come like that!” She snapped her fingers. “But those guys, none of them would know how to find my clit if they had a fucking map. Or maybe it’s ‘cause they couldn’t be bothered to look. It was all about them, you know. Their pleasure. Getting their rocks off. I was just a convenient couple of orifices or three.”
“Three? You don’t mean?”
She grinned and nodded. “They call it being made watertight, right? Or is it airtight? But anyway, the only reason I came at all was because I was so excited by the situation. I think if it had been any one of them on their own...” She shrugged.
We’d reached my house, so said goodbye and I went inside. Kelly lived a way further up the same street. I sighed and leaned back against the door when I got in the house. It had been a very interesting first day back.
Chapter 4:There’s No Rule Against It
I woke earlier than usual on Tuesday morning having not had the best night’s sleep. Strange dreams which, as dreams do, faded so quickly that I couldn’t recall what had been so strange about them. I think they may have been about Clarissa. I may have kissed her. In the middle of the school canteen with everyone standing round watching, pointing and laughing.
I stared at the ceiling for ten minutes and tried to put the day before in to some kind of perspective. Clarissa had done her duty. She’d thanked me for being there when she needed someone (I’m not so arrogant as to think she needed me—she just needed someone that night at the wedding) and had then gone even further by gracing me with her presence for a couple of hours in the English class. In her world, that was more than enough thanks. I fully expected the world to right itself when I got to school and for everything to go back to what passed for normal at Micester High.
So when I sat down at our usual table that lunchtime to wait for Kevin and Billy, I was shocked when a voice behind me said, “This seat is free, right. It’s usually just the three of you.”
I turned my head and gave Clarissa what was fast becoming my default expression when she spoke to me—wide-eyed and open-mouthed bewilderment.
She put her plate on the table and took the seat next to me. “Paul, if we’re going to be friends, you really need to stop acting so surprised every time I talk to you.”
“Fr... Friends?”
“Yes, friends. Friends talk to each other, don’t they?”
“So we’re friends now.”
“Of course.”
“But... I mean... you’re...”
“The Head Villager. I know. Don’t remind me. And you’re a Townie. So what? We can be friends, can’t we? There’s no rule against it, is there?”
“I thought there was,” I said, having regained some control over my vocal cords. I don’t think my brain had quite re-engaged yet though judging from that banal remark.
“Well, you thought wrong.” She sounded weary—even more so after she sighed. “I get so sick of it all. Don’t you? The Great Divide or whatever they call it. Look, the truth is that I can trust you. I know that now. And if there’s someone you know you can trust then they’re your friend, right? That’s how friendship works. Sometimes.”
I shook my head. And I had expected the world to right itself. “How do you know you can trust me?”
She looked me in the eye and said, “Including you and me, how many people do you think know what happened on the patio at the wedding? Besides Jake, that is. He doesn’t count.”
I thought for a second. “Four. Me, you, Grace and Emily.”
Without taking her eyes from mine she said, “Two.”
“Two? But what about—”
“The biggest gossip in school? What do you think I am? Stupid? Don’t get me wrong, I love Grace to pieces, but I couldn’t trust her with something like this.”
“And Emily?”
“Emily’s my best friend. She’s like my sister, but you don’t have tell your sister everything, do you? Some things you need to keep to yourself.” She took a deep breath. “Look, after I took your advice and fixed my make-up, I went back to the reception, painted on a happy face and acted like everything was fine and dandy. I didn’t say anything to Emily because Grace was with her which would have guaranteed it would have gotten back to Mom and I couldn’t let it spoil her day. And I haven’t said anything to Emily since because… Well, I just never really thought I needed to. Honestly, I’d rather just forget the whole thing. Jake hasn’t said or done anything since so hopefully it was a one off.” She shrugged and I wondered if she was thinking the about the same phrase involving leopards and spots that I was.
With another of those dazzling smiles, she continued, “And I know you haven’t said anything to anyone, which is how I know I can trust you.”
“How do you—”
“Because it would have been all over the school like a rash, faster than you can blink if you had. That’s how I know.”
I didn’t say anything for a while then, “No, I haven’t said anything to anyone. Not even my sister. And I promise I never will.”
“There’s no need to promise. I already know you won’t. You’re a good man, Paul Robertson. Everyone says so. And now I know so. I trust you. And I could use a friend I know I can trust. So... Friends?”
She held out her hand to me. Without a moment’s thought and I took it and we shook to seal the deal. “Friends.”
“Bloody hell!” Kevin stopped dead in his tracks and nearly dropped his lunch tray. Billy, a few steps behind, almost ran into him.
“Hi, Kevin. Hi, Billy.” They both stared wordlessly before glancing from Clarissa to me and back again.
“Sit down, then. Your lunch will get cold.”
Without taking their eyes off Clarissa, Kevin and Billy sat and started eating.
“How’s the curry, Billy?” Clarissa asked. “I’ve never been brave enough to try it myself.”
“Er... It’s... It’s not bad. I’ve had worse. That place on the high street is pretty dodgy, isn’t it, Slim?”
“That it is, Bills,” I replied with a grin. Was that how I’d been? It was pretty funny to watch.
“Yes, I’d heard that,” Clarissa said. “If we want Indian we always go into Westmouth. There’s this one restaurant on the sea front that’s just fantastic.”
The world definitely hadn’t righted itself.
*****
After we’d finished eating, Clarissa walked with me back to the common room, leaving Billy and Kevin to suddenly engage in some pretty animated whispering as we went. When we entered the common room, a wave of shocked silence washed across the area as all eyes turned to us. This, I wasn’t used to. I was used to pleasant anonymity. No one ever turned to look when I entered a room, let alone stop talking.
“Thanks for letting me sit with you and the guys. It was fun. Different, but fun. You’ll be in McCarthy’s class later?”
I nodded.
“Great. Wait for me after registration and I’ll walk with you since Grace and Emily don’t do maths.”
“Sure.”
“Great. See you later.” She touched my shoulder in a gesture of goodbye and strode over to some her friends.
I glanced around the room at the people looking at me—most of whom quickly turned away and started whispering in their little groups. I shook my head to clear it and walked towards my usual corner where I could do some reading for Miss Pattison’s class, but I didn’t make it. I’d barely gone two steps when Kelly approached from the side and tapped my arm.
“You got a sec?”
“For you? Always.”
“In private?”
I nodded.
“Let’s find an empty classroom.”
The common room was opposite a row of general classrooms, all of which went unused at lunchtimes. We stepped into one, Kelly closed the door behind her and then turned to face me.
“So what’s going on with you and The Head Villager?”
“Is that...?” I sighed. Guess I’d have to get used to this if Clarissa and I were really going to be friends. “Nothing’s going on. She’s just being friendly.”
“Yeah, right. She’s never just friendly with anyone, and certainly not with a Townie.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that people might be wrong about her?”
“No. Look, just be careful, okay. I’d hate for you to get hurt. Anyway, that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
“I...” She glanced away from me and sucked in some air, then faced me again and said with a resolute tone, “I need a favour.”
“What sort of favour?”
“I need a date for Saturday night.”
“A date?” I pointed to my chest.
She nodded. “Yeah. You busy?”
“No. I’m not. I’ve got a lunchtime shift at The Hall but I’m free in the evening. Kev and me talked about catching a movie but nothing concrete.”
“So you can put him off, right?”
“Do you mind if I ask why? I mean, this is a little out of left field. Even for you.”
“I know, it’s just... You know Mike Thornton?”
“One of Del Stevens’ goons. Plays right-back, doesn’t he?”
Kelly nodded. “He was one of... he was there last Saturday. He’s kinda... But anyway—”
“Kinda what?”
She thought for a moment. “He’s kinda small. You know.” She held up her hand and wiggled her little finger. “But anyway, the point is, he called me last night and asked if I could provide the entertainment again this Saturday.”
“Oh. And you don’t want to?”
“God, no, what do you take me for?”
I gave her a stern look.
“Okay, so I enjoyed last week, that doesn’t make me a slut and doesn’t mean I want to do it again. I mean, I wanted to try it, not make it my lifestyle.”
“It’s okay, I understand. I don’t know if everyone else does, but I do.”
“I know you do. But do you see why I need a date for Saturday night? I need an excuse not to go. You know what they’re like, they won’t take no for an answer unless their stupid bro-code or whatever says so. So if I have a date, the code will let them drop it. Look, I’m not trying to get back together or anything, I just need someone I can trust to come out with me for one night. They’ll move on to someone else and they won’t bother me again.”
“So you thought of gullible old me?”
“No. I thought of the one guy in the whole world that I know I can trust.”
“Why is it that all the girls seem to trust me all of a sudden?”
“It’s not all of a sudden, Paul. I’ve always trusted you, ever since we were little kids playing in the paddling pool in The Rec. There’s just something... trustworthy about you. It’s the reason we went out in the first place, it’s the reason I... the reason I let you take my virginity and the reason I knew I could break up with you and we’d still be friends. You’re a good man, Paul Robertson.”
I half smiled.
“What?”
“You’re second person to call me a good man today.”
“Yeah? Then it must be true. Who was the other one?”
I looked deep into her eyes but said nothing.
“She didn’t?” Her eyes widened and she sounded genuinely shocked. “Really?”
I shrugged. “Look, this might not be a let’s-get-back-together date, but we’d still going to do things properly or it would look fishy.”
She smirked. “And those idiots would know we didn’t do things properly how, exactly?”
I shrugged and said, “The grapevine?” I matched her smirk briefly then said, “I’ll pick you at six-thirty. We’ll grab a pizza then hit the flicks. Wear something nice.”
She smiled. It wasn’t quite the killer smile that Clarissa had, but it was more than good enough for me.
“Oh, and er... Am I going to get laid?”
She arched an eyebrow.
“It’s just that I need to know so I can come appropriately equipped. I mean, it’s been a long time, you know. My stash is probably past its use-by date and I’ll need to stock up.” I grinned to show I was joking.
She slapped my arm. “You.” She walked to the door and opened it but before she left, she shrugged and said, “You never know your luck, Paul. Better to be safe than sorry, don’t you think.” I knew that look. Trouble is, I didn’t know if she was putting it on or not.
*****
“Dude,” I called to Kevin as I approached his locker. “We still on for Saturday night?”
“Far as I know. Why? You bugging out?”
“Actually, yeah.” I grimaced. Kevin was a mate and I hated letting him down.
He gave me a knowing grin. “Hot date? It’s about time. How long it’s been?”
“A while. But it’s not what you think. Kelly needs a date. Cover so that she can tell Del Stevens’ lot to take a running jump.”
“Eh?”
“They want her to perform again after the match.”
“Right. I get it.” There was something in his tone I didn’t like.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Mate, tell me. Jesus, it’s not like I’m gonna freak on you or something.”
He shrugged. “I just think…” He paused. “Just be careful, okay. Don’t go falling for her all over again. I had a hard enough job snapping you out of it last time, I don’t want to have to do it again.”
I nodded. The big guy might look like a bruiser but he had a soft centre.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It’s just a favour for a mate. That’s all.”
“Whatever. Just keep your guard up.”
“I will. See you later.”
Chapter 5:Something in Common
Clarissa re-joined Grace and Emily for lunch on Wednesday and Thursday but she made a point of walking with me to English Lit and Maths where we sat next to each other and helped each other with the work. This was actually a better arrangement for me than sitting with Kelly (in English) or Billy (in Maths) because Clarissa was much more at my level academically—which, I’ll be honest, surprised me. I mean, I’m not top of the class or anything but I’m way ahead of Kelly and Billy. And Kevin for that matter, but we didn’t share any classes. And while I knew Clarissa wasn’t as dumb as most people assumed, I didn’t realise just how bright she was. It was certainly a new experience for me to be corrected during a maths lesson than be the one doing the correcting.
Honestly, if you’d have said to me on Monday morning that by Thursday afternoon I’d have accepted Clarissa as a friend and would be as comfortable around her as any of my other friends, I’d have called for the men in white coats to come and get you. But, by the end of Thursday afternoon’s English class, we were chatting like we’d been friends forever as we walked back to the lockers in the common room to get our things.
“Do you want a lift home?” she asked as I took my coat out of my locker.
I closed the locker and stared at her. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it.”
“What about Grace and Emily? Don’t you usually take them home?”
“They’ll cope,” she said with a dismissive hand wave.
“They won’t be upset?”
“They might be. But it does them good to be reminded that I’m not their taxi service at least once a week.” She laughed. “Come on, let’s go. You can offer me a drink at your place.”
“Guess I don’t have a choice then.”
“No. You don’t.”