Read The Girl With No Past Online

Authors: Kathryn Croft

The Girl With No Past (13 page)

Adam doesn’t seem bothered by my comment. ‘Don’t worry, Leah, I know what I’m doing.’

‘Yeah, Adam’s got more tricks to play on her,’ Corey says.

‘Like what?’ Imogen asks, seemingly forgetting her plan to be alone with Corey.

Not wanting to hear what Adam is planning, I go downstairs to get some drinks. I still like him – of course I do – but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything he does, like Corey and Imogen seem to. Mum and Dad always disagree on things but they’re still married so it’s not a deal-breaker. No, I still want Adam as much as ever.

While I’m grabbing a bottle of lemonade to take upstairs, I notice the time on the oven clock. It’s already five to nine so we have less than an hour left before the boys have to disappear. They have been here before, of course, but never without a parent being home. Mum would have a heart attack if she came back early and found them here. I’d never be allowed out again. But Adam is worth this risk.

When I get back upstairs, Adam is alone in my room, sitting on the bed with his back against the wall. He’s wearing loose jeans and a red hooded top tonight and I always find it strange seeing him out of uniform, even though I should be used to it by now.

‘Where are Imogen and Corey?’ I say.

‘I told them to have some time alone,’ he says, casually, as if he commands the world. ‘They’re in the spare room. That’s okay, isn’t it? Come and sit with me.’ I’m about to tell him that’s not a spare room, it’s Dad’s study, but think better of it.

For a second I wonder what he would do if I refused to sit with him. Became one of the first people – other than Miss Hollis – to resist him. But, of course, I could never do this, and before I think any further, my feet are urging me towards him. I flop onto the bed and push myself up to the wall, but make sure there is a gap between us. I don’t know how close he will want me.

I have to tell him now; this might be the only chance I get before we break up for summer. Adam has told us his parents are taking him to America for three weeks to visit family, so if I don’t open my mouth tonight then it will be too late. He could start to like someone at school – please don’t let it be Dionne – or he could meet someone in America. I can’t let that happen; he’s meant to be mine. And then I have an idea. I can test him out by asking if he likes any girls at school. If he says yes, I will know not to expose my feelings and therefore preserve my dignity.

But just as I open my mouth to speak, Adam beats me to it and launches into a tirade about how much he loathes Miss Hollis. I listen for a few minutes, to let him get it out of his system, but eventually I am exhausted by his rant. It is already quarter past nine and I don’t want to waste any more time.

This no longer seems the right moment to ask about girls, so I decide to find out more about Adam’s family instead. He rarely talks about them and all I know is his mum and dad are still together and he has an older brother who lives in New York.

‘What’s your brother doing in America?’ I blurt out, as soon as he pauses for breath.

‘Jeremy? Oh, he’s at uni. On a basketball scholarship. Lucky sod. I wish I could play.’

‘Can’t you?’ I ask, relieved I’ve distracted him from talking about Miss Hollis.

‘Um, well, a bit. Not that well, though. Not like him. He taught me a lot but I guess I’m more academic.’

It is funny to hear Adam describe himself this way. Even though everyone knows how clever he is, he plays it down and hates anyone mentioning it. But I like it. I’ll never tell him that, but I do.

‘Well, when you’ve finished school maybe you could go and live out there or something?’ I don’t know why I say this, Adam moving away is the last thing I want, but perhaps I am testing the waters.

He turns to me and I see something in his face I can’t work out. Sadness? Anger? A mixture of both? ‘No, my parents would never go for that. They’ve already said I’ve disrupted their lives enough by us having to move to Watford.’

Adam has never told me this, but I know from Corey that he had trouble at his old school in London so had to come to ours. I want to ask him what happened – what trouble could such a bright boy have got into? – but he’d tell me if he wanted me to know.

‘Mum and Dad are always giving me grief,’ he continues. ‘Just because I refused to go to a private school. I mean, what the hell? Why would I want to end up a snobby arsehole at one of those places? No way, I’m happy where I am. Even if some of the teachers are cunts.’

I balk at his language. I’ve never heard him use that horrible word before. Luckily he doesn’t seem to notice; the whole time he’s been speaking he hasn’t looked at me once. Instead, he plays with the zip on his hoody, pulling it up and down as if he can’t make up his mind what to do with it. Not wanting to hear another rant about Miss Hollis, I ask Adam what he wants to do when we leave school.

‘Uni of course,’ he says, as if I’ve asked a stupid question. ‘I want to be a lawyer.’ He looks at me now, so we’re clearly on a subject he feels comfortable with.

I’m surprised at his answer. I had no idea what Adam wanted to do, but it seems out of character. Not a stupid idea, though, because he’s clever enough, it’s just not something I can picture Adam doing.

‘That’s great,’ I say.

‘Well, what about you?’

I shrug. ‘Definitely uni. But then I’m not sure. Maybe a teacher. Or journalist.’

‘Yeah, I can see you being a journalist,’ Adam says, smiling. He says nothing about my teaching idea. ‘Hey, I wonder what Corey and Imogen are doing,’ he says, grinning.

I feel my face redden, just by what he is referring to. ‘Well, they better hurry up because you and Corey have to be out of here in less than half an hour.’

Adam snickers. ‘That’s plenty of time for Corey,’ he says, and we both erupt into laughter. I love being like this with him, sharing a joke which is only for us.

Now is the moment. I have to ask him about girls. Taking a deep breath, I begin. ‘Adam…’

But he interrupts me again. This time, pulling me towards him and kissing me on the lips. It is a strange sensation, not at all what I expected it to feel like, but nice anyway. His mouth is soft and smooth and I melt into him, trying to pretend I know what I’m doing.

TWELVE

The next day was Saturday and it had snowed overnight, covering the ground in a crisp white blanket. Staring out of my window, I shivered at the sight, even though I wore a thick towelling dressing gown and fleecy pyjamas. Winter already seemed as if it had lasted all year, and I longed to feel warm air on my skin. Across the road, three children were making a snowman, wide smiles stretched across their faces, their laughter piercing the air. I thought of the others then, how that was us once, a time long ago buried, and wondered what the future held for these three.

I should have been working but Sam had called to swap my days off. Although I needed the time at home – I had a list of things to do that seemed to be growing rather than shrinking – I wanted to be at the library. With people around me. At a distance, but still there. But when I thought about it, I was probably better off here because out in public I could easily be spied on. Here I was out of reach of prying eyes.

Despite my determination last night not to let the emailer get the better of me, I now felt uneasy, as if I was just waiting. For another email. For something worse to happen, because now I was convinced it would.

I had no plan, no idea about what to do, other than to wait for another assault and take it from there. My hopes of involving Mum had been shattered by her attitude yesterday, and there was nobody else except Dr Redfield I could talk to, so that was what I’d have to do.

But her phone went to voicemail when I called. I left a message, telling her I needed her advice quite urgently. I added the
quite
because I didn’t want to worry her unduly when she must have had other patients with more pressing issues. After leaving my message, it was just another waiting game I was forced to play.

This was not the only thing bothering me. Julian had asked me to meet up with him, and although I had stalled him for now with my story of a holiday with Mum, two weeks would pass quickly and then what? I was conflicted: if I put him off any longer he wouldn’t waste another second on me, but how could I start something with him when it would only mean sharing who I was? I needed time to think carefully about this, one mistake could have awful consequences.

Sitting on the floor by the radiator, which was only emitting a tiny amount of heat, I pushed thoughts of Julian aside for the moment and loaded up my laptop, preparing to check my email. There could well be another message and I would have to find a way to deal with it. But when I logged in to Hotmail, the only email I’d received was from Sam, reminding me to apply for the senior librarian position.

She had attached an application form so I spent the next hour filling it out, trying to be as thorough and detailed as I could, selling myself even though I felt every persuasive word I wrote was a lie. Sam had told me it was just a formality, but I still wanted to put in all my effort, to convince myself that maybe I would get the job on my merits, not just because Sam wanted me to have it. I wasn’t sure whether Maria was also applying, but hadn’t dared bring up the subject.

Once I’d completed the form and read it through twice, I emailed it to Sam and tried to forget about it. I knew better than to get my hopes up, just in case, but couldn’t help thinking the money would come in handy. Maybe I could redecorate the flat, or buy some new clothes. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gone shopping for anything other than food or toiletries, and I found the idea exciting. I’d probably order online, though; the thought of crowds was abhorrent to me, no matter how tempting the reward.

It was getting late by then and I still hadn’t heard from Dr Redfield. After a quick shower, I grabbed a bowl of cornflakes and sat at the kitchen table, my hair dripping, trying not to think about anything but eating my breakfast.

But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t push away the thoughts of Julian intruding into my head. How was it possible that a stranger could have me obsessing so much? I had never even met him. Yes, I’d seen his photo, but photos were only a tiny percentage of the real person. And what if I did meet up with him and he didn’t like me? There was no guarantee of anything so wasn’t it better to stay in this fantasy world?

I could tell him I wanted to keep things as they were, just until we knew each other better, surely he would understand that? But then again, that was a crazy idea when he moderated a dating website and had access to all the single women on there. There was nothing to stop him contacting one of them, just as he had found me. I didn’t like this feeling. It was like losing control and I’d had enough of that in my life. Not since Adam had I been so distracted by anyone or anything and it felt strange, much like everything had lately.

But no matter how much I hated the feeling of helplessness, I would try to meet up with him. Even if it didn’t work out, at least I would know I had tried.

I cleared away my cereal bowl and coffee mug and as I began washing up, my phone pinged with an email. I took a deep breath and opened my inbox. It was Julian.

Hope you still want to meet up?

I replied straight away, telling him I did, and then spent the rest of the morning wondering how the hell I would be able to keep the promise I had made to him and to myself.

To try and distract myself, fool myself into believing my life was as it should be, I tidied and cleaned my flat. There wasn’t much to do because I had so few belongings, other than books, so when I’d nearly finished I was still no nearer an answer.

I began dusting the tops of the last shelf of books when I noticed
Of Mice and Men
. It made me think of Ben and how nice it had been hearing someone else enthuse about the novel as much as I did. And that led me to an idea. A crazy one, one I was opposed to in many ways, but one that would help me find the confidence to meet up with Julian.

Ben’s business card was still in my coat pocket and I was relieved to see it had his mobile number on it. I didn’t want to have to call his house phone and end up speaking to his girlfriend. What was her name? Pippa. That was it.

He picked up straight away. ‘Ben? Hi, it’s Leah. From the library.’ I was surprised how easy I found it so far.

There was a moment’s hesitation before he spoke. ‘Leah? Hey, how are things? Everything okay?’

It shouldn’t have surprised me that Ben was so kind and friendly on the phone. Both times I’d seen him he’d been nothing but amiable. But I wasn’t used to talking to men so didn’t know what to expect; anything would be a surprise. This made me even more certain I was doing the right thing. I checked what his plans were that afternoon and when he said he had none, told him my idea.

‘Lunch? Yeah, that sounds good. How about the West End? I know it’s cold but the snow’s stopped and it’s not a bad day, is it? The sun’s out, at least.’

This threw me. I had been hoping to meet up in Wandsworth, or at least Putney, and didn’t want to venture further than that. I never went to the West End; it was too crowded and the thought of it terrified me.

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