He might not have hundreds of GCSEs, but he could build a fire, make food, clear up, which had to be worth something.
The water hadn’t been disconnected, but it came out rust-coloured and he had to run the tap for ages. He rinsed the plates, gave them a shake and put them back in the cupboard. If anyone noticed they’d been here, they might not be able to come again, and he wanted to. There was a pint glass in the cupboard and he filled it with tap water and drank it straight down. It tasted fine, even though the colour was still weird. He filled the glass again and took it in for her.
‘Here,’ he said.
He sat back down on the carpet and watched her drink. He liked the way her throat moved, the sound of water falling into her. He liked it so much that he leaned right over and laid his head on her shoulder.
She laughed. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Listening to you.’
He could feel her breath on his face.
‘What do I sound like?’ she whispered.
‘Beautiful.’
He felt like a junkie might feel as he leaned in to kiss her.
She’d thought of it, dreamed of it, and here it was – like a slow drowning as his lips touched hers. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, could hear the pulse at her own neck thundering. It was how it should’ve been all along, and why had they wasted hours without touching at all?
Kissing Mikey McKenzie on the carpet in her grandparents’ cottage, the world felt more intimate and more exactly right than Ellie had ever guessed it could. It was like a shape had chosen her and shifted her from ordinary to special. She’d run like an animal through the rain and gone to find him. She’d caught a bus and brought him here.
It began to get gloomy outside. It would get darker and darker and later and later. It was a long bus ride back. There was no landline or mobile signal, there were no neighbours and nobody knew they were there.
Every now and then a picture of home would leak in – her father’s furious face, her mother’s disappointed one, the stabbed look in Tom’s eyes. The three of them would have eaten Sunday lunch with the solicitor by now. They’d be drinking coffee and talking about her, wondering where she was.
But the longer she kissed Mikey, the less important these things became.
He stroked her hair. She dared to touch his hip. There was a crazy flare under her fingers where her skin touched his. She buried herself in his neck and breathed in the boy smell of him.
‘I can’t get close enough to you,’ she said.
He looked at her with dark eyes, his breathing like an engine. He looked like he was sinking, like he couldn’t help himself as he reached to kiss her again. It made her want to laugh out loud. She did this to him.
She said, ‘I haven’t ever…’ as he began to unbutton her dress, but then she gave up, because, in fact, she wanted him to unbutton it. It shocked her that this was true. How could she want this when she’d never done anything more than kiss a boy before?
He said, ‘You want me to stop?’
She shook her head.
‘We can just kiss,’ he said. ‘We don’t have to do anything else.’
‘I don’t want to stop.’
Every girl knows if you get into a situation with a boy who has had sex already, then he will want to have sex with you. He will push at your boundaries. If you say no to a boy like this, he will try and get you to change your mind.
But she wasn’t saying no.
She’d broken into her grandparents’ cottage and her rules were crumbling to dust. She’d known Mikey for less than eight weeks and this was only their second date.
‘Are you sure?’ he said.
She nodded.
Then.
He was on his knees and he held out his hand to her. She sat up and together they slid the dress from her shoulders. It was the blue dress she’d worn at the party the first time she’d spoken to him properly. That felt like years ago, like another life.
And how easy that life slipped off.
He knew he was supposed to take it slow, but all she had left was bra, jeans, knickers. Three things. He was burning with how much he wanted her. He reached out for the buckle on her belt.
‘Wait,’ she said.
She put her hand over his. Had he gone too far? Too fast? If this was Sienna, they’d have done the business by now and be having a fag and talking about nothing. But it was different with Ellie. He was whimpering like a dog inside, and the only way forward was to let her decide what happened next. He wanted to yank those jeans right off her. He wanted to know if her knickers matched the black lace of her bra. He wanted to tell her he probably had a condom somewhere and that everything was under control. But he didn’t want to scare her.
He said, ‘Am I going too fast?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not that.’
‘What is it then?’
‘I lied to the police.’
His heart sank. Why wasn’t anything ever simple? She was in front of him, confessing, and he didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to kiss her.
‘When I made my first statement I said I was asleep all night, and I wasn’t. I’m scared that when you know how important that is, you’re going to hate me.’
‘I won’t ever hate you.’
‘I hope not.’ She touched his belly. Up. Gently. Her fingers ran over the ridges of his ribcage. ‘I want to help Karyn.’
‘I know that.’
She said, ‘So you think this is a good idea then, you and me?’
He said, ‘Yes.’
Then he said, ‘But only if you think so.’
She leaned in close and kissed his chin, the end of his nose, each eyelid.
She said, ‘I missed you so much. I’ve been wanting to touch you for days.’
And he was worth something. Just like that.
Her breath on his face was salt and wood smoke and something underneath that, something sweet and pulsing. He sat very still as her kisses moved to his neck, as her right hand explored his back, all the way down his spine to his belt. If he moved, she might stop and he didn’t want her to stop.
It had never crossed his mind that his body might be special too. No girl had ever taken the time to show him. Or was it that he just hadn’t let them?
Whichever it was, it was like a pulse rising.
Ellie put her hand against his chest and felt his heart through his T-shirt. He was watching her and she knew she had to decide what happened next.
For the rest of her life, he’d be her first and nothing could ever change it. And if he hated her later because of what she knew about his sister and Tom, then she’d have to live with it. It was now that mattered. Right now. Right here. She watched herself move her hand down to the edge of his T-shirt.
She’d thought it would be like speaking different languages, because he was experienced and she wasn’t. But she knew what she wanted and somehow she knew what to do. She dared to lift his T-shirt and he raised his arms like an obedient child and she pulled it over his head. She loved the feeling of power as he melted towards her, the way his breathing changed under her fingers.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ she said.
He shook his head.
They smiled at each other.
