Forever Is Over (19 page)

I sat down next to her, not at all nervously, I felt like this was my
destiny and a huge smile overtook my face like a joyous revolution.

“
Hi!
”

“
Hello,
”
a reciprocal smile came back.

The world started turning again, but as soppy and clich
é
d as this
may sound, I knew my world would never be the same again.

“
Enjoying yourself?
”

“
I
’
m just people watching. It
’
s very entertaining. I was sitting here
with Amy but her attention has been caught by someone far better
looking than me!
”

Not true, I thought, no-one is better looking than you. No-one.
“
Well, I
’
m glad Eddie Garland
’
s grabbed her attention, it gives me
the chance to sit down!
”

Next to you, I meant, but luckily I stopped myself saying it.

“
Well as long as you don
’
t start singing along to Joey
’
s music, I
’
ll
be happy to
have you here!
”

I smiled. Kelly blushed. There was a brief awkward silence. I broke it.

“
How do you know Amy Perkins then?
”

“
She
’
s my sister
’
s best mate.
”

I was puzzled.

“
Your sister
’
s?
”

“
Jemma Watkinson. I
’
m her sister. Do you know her?
”

Once again the words I thought and
the words I said were a little
different.

I thought,
“
Yes she helps me sleep at night.
”

I said,
“
Yes, she
’
s in my year.
”

“
I know she is! I knew you knew her really.
”

“
Just teasing me?
”

“
A little! Sorry, I
’
m Kelly. Kelly Watkinson.
”

She extended her hand. It was soft and graceful. Holding it was
a
privilege.

“
I
’
m Richie Billingham.
”

“
I know who you are, Richie! I see you around at school all the time!
”

“
Kelly, if I
’
m being really honest, I can
’
t say the same. I
’
m
sure I
would
have noticed you if I
’
d seen you around.
”
Mild flirtation, I thought.
Test the waters!
Kelly swept her hand through her hair.

“
You will have seen me, but just been oblivious to me. I
’
m in the
third year.
”

My heart sank a little. I expected as much but confirmation was still
a bitter disappointment. A two year age gap is nothing for two adults,
but at this point it was a barrier. In my mind, if you were thirteen or
fourteen, you were a child. If you were fifteen or sixteen, you were
virtually an adult. I changed the subject from age.

“
So how come Jemma and Amy brought you here?
”

“
Long story!
”

“
You might as well tell me. I
’
m not going anywhere!
”

“
I won
’
t bore you with the whole story, but the shortened version is
that Jemma caught me drinking cider at the bus stop in Asmall Lane.
”

Kelly stopped and giggled to herself.

“
Actually no, that
’
s not right, Jemma saw me getting grilled by a
policeman after he caught me drinking cider at the bus stop on Asmall
Lane!
”

“
Not as innocent as you look then?
”

“
No! Not at all. My middle name
’
s Risk!
”

We smiled right at each other again. This was becoming a habit!
This time though we shared a look too. A long look into each other
’
s eyes.

“
Mills & Boon
”
, I thought to myself,
“
Mills & Boon!
”

My romantic intentions towards Kel
ly were temporarily put to the
back of my mind, however, when Nick Birch burst into the kitchen,
sliding along the linoleum like Marty McFly in Back to the Future.
He was looking for me.

“
Richie, you need to get into the lounge!
”

“
Why?
”

“
It
’
s your brother.
”

I sighed,
“
Bloody typical!
”
Anything involving me and girls, Jim
had a tendency to ruin.

“
What
’
s he done now?
”

“
It
’
s that girl who beat him at chess! There was a big argument,
things turned nasty, she threw a punch, you best get in there quick mate. I think he
’
s dead!
”

I remember thinking,
“
Michael Birch, you are a lifesaver! You may
look like one of Whitesnake and smell like
‘
Stig of the Dump
’
, but you
have some gorgeous friends!
”
Whether they were actually gorgeous or
just appeared gorgeous as the alcohol kicked in, destroying brain cells
and heightening libido, I can
’
t really be sure. I just know that at that
point, if girls had penises and boys vaginas, I could have picked my
nose with mine.

I was one-on-one with the guy with the
“
Alright?
”
chat up line.
What he lacked in opening gambits, he more than made up for in looks.
If God had put a young Patrick Swayze and a young Richard Gere into
a melting pot, to create teenage perfection, Matthew Coughlan would
have been the finished article. God
’
s masterpiece or the masterpiece of
Mr Coughlan
Senior
’
s scrotum and Mrs Coughlan
’
s ovary, depending
on your religious perspective. To put it bluntly, he was mega fit!

I discove
red Matthew was studying Chemic
al Engineering at
Warwick
University. Normally, swot
s were as big a turn off to me
as a power cut on a winter
’
s night, but if they looked like Matthew
Coughlan, I was willing to discard the rule book! I feigned interest in
his intellectual conversation but despite nodding and smiling, all my
drunken mind was trying to formulate was how long it would take
Sophie Leigh
’
s lipstick (on my lips) and Matthew Coughlan
’
s tongue
to ignite with passion. The answer to that question, should have been,
in all probability, six minutes, because, after five minutes, Matt (for his
name had been shortened as we had grown closer), had taken my two
hands in his, started stroking them gently and whispered in my ear,

“
Do you fancy coming upstairs to find somewhere a little quieter?
”
My brain answered,
“
D
o babies crap in their nappies?
”

L
uckily
this thought never reached my vocal chords and I just nodded an
d
smiled sweetly as he led me by the hand to the stairs.

Teenage parties are weird things. When adults have parties, all the
people tend to congregate in the lounge and kitchen, when teenagers have
parties, the prudent couples gather outside for a snog, the adventurous
couples find whatever room they can upstairs (bathrooms often being
number one choice due to the inside lock), the confident singles mingle
downstairs in the lou
nge and kitchen and the undesir
ables sit on the
stairs! Not surprisingly, the Birch
’
s stairs were full. Still holding hands,
Matt and I plotted a route up the stairs, trying not to stand on the
parties flotsam and jetsam.

It was pretty dark on the stairs so I
smelt him coming before I saw
him. In an instant, fear gripped me and my body turned goose pimply.
There was a reason for this, the rancid smell of a mixture of ouzo,
whiskey, brandy and vomit normally signalled the arrival of Vomit
Breath. For once in my life, Vomit Breath would have been a better
option. Staggering down the stairs was Billy McGregor. Why had I
not detected his presence earlier? Mrs.
Marple would not have been so
stupid when presented with the evidence before her. For starters, Eddie
Garland was there. Sidekick Eddie. Siamese twins had more alone
time than Billy and Eddie. Eddie wouldn
’
t fart without Billy striking
a match. The only time they spent apart was when they circled around
their female prey, like lions around bison. I have no idea where he
’
d been
throughout the party, but based on reputation, location and smell, I am
sure Mrs.
Marple would have deduced it involved copious amounts of
alcohol and perhaps (pre-vomit) a sexual encounter. As we encountered
Billy, Matt was leading me by the hand up the stairs. Billy fixed me
with a gaze that
“
Tut
”
had spent fifty years perfecting and then slurred
out his thoughts.

“
Good luck mate! You
’
ve got more chance of winning the pools than
you have of getting into her knickers. I
’
d wear gloves, pal, they
’
ll protect
you from the icicles down there!
”

Matt may have been blessed with the looks of Swayze and Gere,
but he was not blessed with their Hollywood characters ability to fight
to protect their lady
’
s honour. He looked like he wanted his mother to
appear at the top of the stairs armed
with a brolly and a handbag to
clobber Billy with and to tell him to leave her poor son alone. Weak
men are a turn off. If we had ever reached the top of the stairs, Matthew
Coughlan would not have reached first base let alone fourth. His grip
on my hand tightened and he tried to pull us to safety as quickly as he
could. Unfortunately for all concerned, M
att may avoid confrontation to
protect his moisturised beauty but pacifism isn
’
t a trait I have managed
to learn. I may try and calm a situation down which involves my
sister, Kelly and a trip to the police station, but when it involves Billy
McGregor, bring it on! As Billy and I met on the same step, he looked
at me with scorn and said.

“
I hope you get AIDS!
”

What a wanker! One minute he was implying my vagina was cold
enough to store freshly opened bottles of champagne in and now he
was hoping my
promiscuity would get me a terminal illness. The insult took a
couple of seconds to register and then I pulled away from Matt
’
s grip,
ignored his cry of,