The One and Only Read online

  I closed my eyes.

  Her face was still in my head, imprinted against my eyelids.

  I pulled the pillow down, imagining I was holding her.

  Eve.

  6

  Looking after Sam

  Mum came home after four days, but Sam stayed in hospital for another week. Mum went back every day, spending hour after hour in the Special Baby Unit. I went with her a few times but it was phenomenally boring – and depressing too. Sam was fine, just a bit small, but some of the babies in there were really ill. There were always anxious parents padding about, often in tears.

  On top of that, Mum spent most of her time in the hospital trying to breastfeed. The first time, she just whipped out her boobs while I was standing there.

  ‘Mum,’ I hissed. ‘Stop.’

  She looked up at me, a slightly dazed expression in her eyes. ‘What’re you talking about?’ she said.

  ‘You can’t do that in front of all these people,’ I said.

  ‘For God’s sake, Luke, it’s perfectly natural. That’s what they’re there for. How do you think I fed you?’ She carried on unbuttoning her top.

  ‘Mu-um.’ I gritted my teeth. ‘OK, then I’m going home.’

  And I left.

  It’s all very well her saying it’s natural. There’s nothing natural for me about seeing my mum’s boobs in action. Ugh.

  Sam came home on Christmas Eve morning and Mum got all excited about us having a family Christmas together. We didn’t have much food in, so she sent me down to the shops to buy some cartons of soup and nice bread.

  But Christmas Day was a disaster. Firstly, the baby didn’t sleep at all the night before. Worse, he cried the whole time. A horrible, mewing cry like a drowning kitten. I shut my door and shoved two pillows over my head, but his bawling still woke me up about twenty times.

  Then Chloe phoned and said she couldn’t make it home after all – she’d been invited to lunch with one of the girls from her new flat. Mum came off the phone crying, and she didn’t really stop all day.

  Matt arrived at about eleven o’clock with loads of booze. Then he and Mum had a massive argument about the fact there was no Christmas lunch.

  ‘I can’t drink, I’m breastfeeding,’ she said. ‘And just when did you think I’d have time to shop for a turkey dinner?’ she said.

  ‘You brought Sam back over twenty-four hours ago,’ Matt said, staring at her blankly. ‘Surely you could have made it to the supermarket.’

  I wanted to hit him. Couldn’t he see how exhausted Mum was?

  And then Mum started apologising to him for everything being in such a mess and, frankly, I felt like hitting her.

  We ate soup and beans-on-toast for lunch, after which the baby finally went to sleep. Mum crashed out about two seconds later and Matt sat around, drinking and watching TV.

  I noticed he made no effort to wash up the lunch things so I did it, feeling very sorry for myself. Afterwards, as I wandered past the living-room door I heard Mum – clearly now awake – squeal with excitement.

  ‘Oh, look, Matt. He’s really latched on this time.’

  I could hear Matt grunting, uninterested.

  I grimaced. I knew from my hospital visits that ‘latched on’ was some kind of breastfeeding term. I headed for the stairs.

  ‘I think that means he’ll take a proper feed, now,’ Mum was saying. ‘Goodness, I never had this trouble with Chloe and Luke.’

  About an hour later they had another argument. I could hear them from my room. Mum was trying to persuade Matt to stay the night. He was explaining – entirely unconvincingly – that he had to pop in on some elderly relatives before it got too late.

  ‘You’ve never bothered with them before.’ Mum was sobbing. ‘Oh, Matt. Please stay. I’m exhausted. I really need your help.’

  She sounded so pitiful I couldn’t believe it when Matt started shouting again. ‘But it never lets up. We never get a break from him,’ he yelled.

  We? Where were you last night, while Mum and I were enduring the drowning kitten hours?

  Then Mum totally lost it. She started screaming at him for being selfish and cruel and not caring about her and the baby.

  I sat in my room, delighted she was finally standing up to him.

  You tell him, Mum.

  Then the front door slammed shut. Silence.

  After a few minutes I crept down and peered round the living-room door. Mum was sitting in Dad’s old armchair, rocking Sam in her arms. Her face was haggard and stained with tears.

  ‘I’m sorry, baby,’ she was saying. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

  I stood by the door, uncertain what to do. I hate seeing Mum cry. It makes me feel so helpless. And – if I’m honest – it’s scary, too. I wanted to go up to her, but I had no idea what to say. I desperately wished Dad was here.

  Or Chloe.

  Or Eve.

  ‘Mum?’ I said, hesitantly.

  She didn’t seem to hear me. Just carried on rocking.

  I did the only thing I could think of. I went into the kitchen and called Trisha.

  She was brilliant. She was in the middle of some big family Christmas on the other side of town, but she came straight over with Alice, her little girl. When she arrived, she took one look at Mum, still weeping in the living room, and sent her up to bed.

  ‘I’ll look after Sam for a bit,’ she said firmly. ‘You need some sleep.’

  Once Mum had dragged herself upstairs, Trisha smiled at my anxious face. ‘Thanks for calling me, Luke. Your mum’s lucky to have you. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. She’s just exhausted. And Matt the prat isn’t helping.’

  I grinned at her. I knew Trisha’s baby was due soon – she had this round bump that stuck out a long way in front – but she didn’t seem to have slowed down or cracked up like Mum.

  Then Sam woke up and started wailing again. We went into the kitchen so Trisha could make up a bottle of milk for him. She made me stay and watch how it was done. Then she got me to change his nappy.

  ‘So you can give your mum a break every now and then,’ she said. ‘OK?’

  I nodded. If anyone else had tried to give me baby-care lessons, I’d probably have told them where to shove it. But Trisha made it sound like we were equal partners trying to help Mum out. Changing the nappy wasn’t so difficult, either. Alice watched me, squatting down on her heels.

  Trisha looked round the kitchen. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘I realise you’ve done your best to stay on top of things, but it is a bit of a mess in here.’

  I looked round. ‘A bit of a mess’ was an understatement. Despite the fact that I had washed up the beans saucepan and the plates, there was baby stuff everywhere, plus some dirty bowls from two days ago I’d shoved in a corner – and piles and piles of clothes that needed washing.

  ‘You take Alice to the park,’ she said. ‘I’m going to have a clear up.’

  Alice held my hand as we went down to the park. She was a sweet little kid, really. Big shiny brown eyes like Trisha and wispy pigtails. She chattered on about her Christmas presents, telling me about the pregnant Barbie she’d been given. ‘It’s got a baby in its tummy and everything. Just like Mummy.’

  We wandered past the small pond and I thought of Eve. This was where we’d met up for those first few days we were together. Where we’d made out in the sunshine.

  ‘Luke.’ Alice tugged on my hand. ‘So what did you get?’

  ‘What?’ I tore myself away from a delicious memory of lying on the grass with Eve.

  ‘For Christmas. What presents did you get?’

  I realised with a jolt that I hadn’t had any presents. Well, Mum had promised me some money, but hadn’t actually got round to giving it to me. And Chloe had left me a scrawled IOU promising to buy me a drink when we next saw each other. But that was it. Mum’s parents were dead and she was an only child. And Mum had totally fallen out with the whole of Dad’s family when she’d started going out with Matt, so I’d just had a note
and a (small) cheque to share with Chloe from my grandparents in Scotland.

  ‘When you get bigger, sometimes you don’t get presents,’ I said.

  Or cards. Or anything from your girlfriend . . . How’s your Christmas holiday going, Eve?

  I pushed Alice on the swings in the children’s playground for a bit, then we wandered back home.

  Mum was still asleep. So, miraculously, was Sam. And the house was sparkling.

  Trisha pulled on her coat. ‘I left a bottle in the fridge for Sam. If he wakes up, heat it up like I showed you and feed him. And don’t take any crap from your Mum about how she’s a terrible mother if she doesn’t breastfeed every hour of the day. She’s so tired . . . I’m guessing she’s not eating enough to produce the milk she needs at the moment. So, make her rest and eat, and supplement with formula tonight, OK? I’ll call round tomorrow and the health visitor should be popping in, too.’

  I nodded, wondering how I could possibly have a conversation with Mum about breastfeeding without dying of embarrassment.

  In the end it wasn’t an issue. Sam woke. I fed him. It was a bit scary at first, but he sucked so hard on the bottle, his little jaws working furiously, that I decided he was probably stronger than I’d realised. He still looked kind of scrunched up and ugly though. More like an old man than my idea of a baby.

  Mum seemed better when she woke up. She was nearly in tears again when she realised how much Trisha had done – and that I’d fed Sam.

  ‘I’m so lucky to have you,’ she said. ‘And a good friend like Trisha.’

  As opposed to Matt the prat?

  I said nothing.

  Matt put in an appearance the next day. But he didn’t stay long. I noticed that he didn’t offer to help feed Sam or to get him off to sleep. In fact, he didn’t even seem to want to hold him. I mean, I didn’t particularly want to either. But Matt was his dad. Mum was depressed again after he’d gone. Still, she cheered up a bit when Trisha came round.

  Over the next few days I kept on helping out – changing nappies, giving Sam bottles of milk and running shopping errands for Mum. I met up with Ryan a few times. He’d had a great Christmas away at his uncle’s – making out with one of his cousin’s friends outside the church at some carol service on Christmas Eve.

  I asked him if he missed Chloe. Apparently they hadn’t spoken since she moved out a week ago. I’d tried to ring her myself a few times, basically to tell her to come home and help out, but she was avoiding my calls.

  ‘I sort of miss her.’ Ryan shrugged. ‘But this is what she wanted.’

  I couldn’t make sense of either of them.

  New Year’s Eve was a bad day. Eve and I had talked about it months ago – how much we both loved the idea of being together right at the start of the year. And here we were – miles apart. On top of which Matt demanded he and Mum go out for the evening – and then stormed out when Mum said Sam wasn’t settled enough to leave with a babysitter.

  Mum took Sam round to Trisha’s in floods of tears again.

  I trudged along to the Burger Bar at about nine. I knew Ryan would be in there with a crowd of friends. They were meeting up, then going back to someone’s house for an all-nighter. I was hardly in the mood for a party, but if anyone could cheer me up, it would be Ryan.

  He was slightly drunk when I arrived, his arms round two girls from my class. I didn’t like that much. Despite everything he and Chloe had said, it still felt weird seeing him with other people.

  ‘Luke, man, the party’s gonna be great. And I know at least three girls who’re desperate for you to be there,’ he bellowed, punching me in the shoulder.

  I winced. Everyone at the table was looking at me. I sat down opposite Ryan, my face burning.

  ‘One of them isn’t Hayley, is it?’ I whispered as soon as everyone turned away. The last thing I wanted was to see her again.

  Ryan tried to shrug and wink at the same time. ‘You’ll see,’ he said. We stayed in the Burger Bar until about ten-thirty, then everyone started fumbling about, getting their stuff together to go to the party. Half the girls at the table made a mass trip to the bathroom.

  I was seriously thinking about just going home. As I pulled my jacket from the pile on the floor, my phone fell out. Six missed calls. I didn’t recognise the number.

  ‘He’s fit.’ One of the girls still sitting at the table pointed towards the door. She giggled. ‘Can’t you ask him to come to the party, too?’

  I followed the girl’s pointing finger.

  A tall, good-looking guy in his late teens was standing in the doorway, looking anxiously round the room. His hair was dark and swept back off his strong, square-jawed face.

  ‘Hey.’ My eyes widened. ‘Look, Ry. It’s Alejandro.’

  Alejandro. This really sound guy we’d met in Spain in the summer. The guy I had mistakenly thought Eve had got off with one night. I hadn’t seen him since the day we’d left Jonno’s hotel at the end of August. He’d sent me and Ryan a couple of postcards from places where he and his band had been on tour this autumn.

  ‘NO WAY!’ Ryan’s yell was deafening. He leaped to his feet and headed for the doorway.

  The girls at the table were still gawping at Alejandro. ‘Can you believe Ry knows him?’ one of them said.

  ‘Can’t see a girlfriend, can you?’

  ‘Piss off. I saw him first.’

  I smiled to myself, wanting to tell them they had no chance. Alejandro was gay. I got up to go over, thinking how sorry Eve would be that she’d missed him.

  And then my breath caught in my throat. I knew Alejandro’s tour included lots of dates in Spain. Maybe he’d seen Eve. Maybe he knew where she was.

  I scrambled past the girls at the table and pushed my way over to the door. Alejandro saw me coming. As soon as I got near enough, we both started speaking at the same time.

  ‘What’s happened?’ I said. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘Thank God I have found you,’ Alejandro said. ‘We called and called and drove everywhere. Eve thought you might be here.’

  My heart leaped. ‘Eve? Have you spoken to her? Is she all right?’

  For the first time Alejandro’s face relaxed.

  ‘Better than that, man,’ Ryan slurred beside him.

  I stared at Alejandro, my heart now beating wildly. ‘What?’ I said. ‘What’s going on?’

  Alejandro grinned at me. ‘We will talk in the car. Come on.’

  He turned towards the door.

  I grabbed his arm. ‘Where’s Eve?’

  ‘Waiting for you.’ He pointed to the street. ‘Out there.’

  7

  Something in his jeans

  I followed Alejandro outside the Burger Bar, Ryan beside me. My eyes were everywhere, looking for Eve.

  I couldn’t believe she was really here.

  Alejandro stopped. He turned to Ryan.

  ‘It is better if you go back,’ he said.

  Ryan screwed up his face. ‘I want to see Eve too,’ he said.

  ‘No. She doesn’t want anyone knowing she’s here. You must go back. Stop anyone else coming out here. And don’t say you’ve seen her.’

  ‘What?’ Ryan said. ‘Why?’

  Alejandro frowned.

  ‘Because she’s run away, hasn’t she?’ I said. The whole situation suddenly made sense. ‘Her dad has no idea she’s here.’

  Alejandro nodded. ‘But here is the first place he will look,’ he said. ‘Ryan, you must do this. Please. Listen to Luke.’

  Ryan nodded solemnly. ‘OK, man. Not a word.’ He turned and slouched back to the Burger Bar.

  ‘Come on.’Alejandro checked the heavy gold watch that hung round his wrist. ‘We need to be going – we took so much time getting a hire car from the airport.’

  He crossed the road and disappeared round the first street on the right. I hurried after him, my heart pounding. Round the corner, Alejandro headed towards a white Ford Mondeo. I strained to see inside. It was too dark. My hands shook as I walk
ed towards it. Then the front passenger door opened. Eve? A pair of long, slim, jean-clad legs slid onto the pavement.

  She stood up. My stomach twisted.

  It was her. Really her. A little blue hat pulled down over her sleek, blonde hair. She was beyond beautiful. Beyond desirable.

  Eve. Smiling at me.

  I stopped, completely poleaxed by the shock of it. Of how she looked. Of how I felt.

  We stared at each other. My feet were stuck to the pavement, like I’d fall down if I took a single step.

  She was standing right in front of me. That perfect, heart-shaped face. Those pale blue eyes, glistening in the light from the street lamps, pulling me in. My heart raced as we leaned towards each other, our faces moving closer, almost touching, the whole world shrinking to the feel of her breath on my skin.

  I wound my arms round her. She was real. Warm. Clinging on to me, crying. I held her as tight as I could, feeling the curves of her body against mine. Her tears on my cheek.

  ‘It’s all right now. It’s . . .’ I whispered.

  But she was twisting round, searching for my mouth.

  The kiss exploded in my head. I forgot where I was. I forgot even that I was standing up.

  Eve didn’t stop kissing me. And I couldn’t let go of her.

  Eventually I registered that Alejandro was hopping up and down beside us, talking.

  ‘Listen. Luke. Eva. We have to go now. It is almost eleven.’

  I drew back a little, but I couldn’t look away from her. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Alejandro gesticulating wildly with his hands. ‘Get in the car.’ He ushered us towards the back seat. ‘Hijo de . . . God. You two. And please do not take your clothes off.’

  I grinned at Eve, then let her go. She slid across the back seat, then looked back, reaching out for me as I got in. We started making out again, our arms wrapped round each other.

  I could hear Alejandro getting into the front seat and starting the engine. My eyes were wide open, soaking in Eve’s blissed-out face as she kissed me.