Mum turned off the road and parked in front of the farmhouse, pulling up the handbrake with a loud rasp. She’d just met me off the train from the cottage in Dorset, where I’d spent two days with Amy.
She turned and looked me straight in the eyes.
“OK Jake,” she said. “Mother’s instinct – something’s not right. Something happened when you were with Amy. What’s wrong? Did you argue?”
My gaze fell and I prepared to deny it, to kick back with an admonishment to mind her own fucking business, but I faltered.
“Jake,” Mum said softly, “I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to help you. Believe me, I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but if I’ve learnt anything, then I know that talking is the best way to start dealing with whatever it is that’s troubling you.”
I looked down at my lap and took a deep breath. There had been a disagreement, but not really an argument between me and Amy, but that had been put to rest. No, it was Ritchie’s attempt to phone her that had put my head in a spin.
“There’s something I haven’t told you about the night that Amy and I got together,” I began. “Actually there’s a lot.”
“Go on,” said Mum.
“Do you remember Ritchie, the guy who played Romeo in the School Play?” I asked.
“Yes, Ritchie Gasson,” Mum said, “The boy with that awful pushy mother?”
“Yes that’s him,” I confirmed. “Anyway, we were at James’ party, the cast party after the end of last term, and he made a pass at Amy. And then he got a bit more aggressive and started harassing her and… I promise there wasn’t a fight, but, but I ended up stopping him doing anything to her.” I swallowed.
Mum was silent, but nodded supportively.
“So I drove her home and made sure she was OK. And that’s when she told me that it wasn’t Ritchie that she wanted to be with, it was, well it was me.” I smiled weakly.
“And then we had to go back to school for exams and stuff and we decided to keep our relationship secret, just to avoid any difficulties. Lauren found out and she told Danny. But it was only the four of us that knew — until the end of last week — when I told James.
“And then, when we were on the train home this afternoon,” I continued, “he phoned her. Ritchie phoned her. His name popped up on the screen when he rang and I saw it.”
“Did Amy answer it?” asked Mum.
“No, she rejected the call,” I explained. “She just said it was her mum calling, she didn’t realise that I’d seen it was Ritchie.” I swallowed. “It’s such a stupid little thing, but I wouldn’t be worrying if she’d told me the truth, if she’d said something like ‘Oh it’s Ritchie, what does he want? I’m not talking to that loser!’ It’s the fact she covered it up. What would she have to hide?”
Mum put her hand across my shoulders. “Has this happened before? Has she mentioned him recently at all?” she asked.
“No, I’m sure I’d remember if she had,” I replied.
“Do you know if he tried to contact her at the beginning, at Easter?” Mum asked, “Maybe to apologise or to try again?”
“If he did, she didn’t say anything. But I was expecting him to try,” I admitted. “Ritchie expects to get his own way. Most things just fall into his lap — being Head Boy, the lead in the School Play. His mother has a way of making things happen for him, even if someone else deserves them more.”
“So could he have found out about you and Amy? Might James or Danny have let something slip – accidently?”
“Danny doesn’t get on with Ritchie either,” I said. “And even if he did, he wouldn’t have told him, I’m sure. James was on the rugby team with him and it’s possible they could have talked since last week. But James is pretty loyal and I don’t think he’d betray my trust. I told him that we were keeping things quiet.”
“Have you or Amy seen Ritchie much since the, er, confrontation?” Mum asked.
“I’ve hardly seen him.” I replied. “We only had two weeks of normal lessons this term and he’s not in any of my classes. Then we had Study Leave and I only saw him a couple of times from a distance when we were taking exams. I don’t think we’ve actually talked to each other since Easter — he seemed to be actively avoiding me.”
“And Amy?” she prompted.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “They were in the same History and English groups, so they’d have seen each other a fair bit in the final two weeks of lessons. But she sat her exams in a separate room away from the rest. I did ask at the beginning if he’d said anything to her, but she just said he looked embarrassed and avoided her.”
Mum thought for a few seconds. “I’m not pretending to know, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. If Amy was doing anything behind your back, then she would at least have told Ritchie not to phone until this evening. I think you’re probably right that your secret is still safe, but sometimes people can say or type things without realising.”
She smiled weakly. “Could Ritchie have found out from somewhere else that Amy is going with you to the Prom?”
I paused. I hadn’t thought of that. It was possible that he’d seen the list of those who’d bought tickets — his mother was Chair of the Parent Teacher Association and they did a lot of the organisation for the event.
“He might have seen the seating plan,” I conceded. “Amy and I will be on the same table for the meal, but there’s eight of us together including Lauren and Danny. We were trying to look like a table of no-hoper singletons!” I attempted a laugh.
“Could Ritchie have been phoning to invite her to go with him? Ringing to apologise, blaming the stress of exams, wanting to turn over a new leaf? Maybe even offering to move her to another table?”
I shrugged. “Dunno,” I said, “it’s possible.” A shiver of concern ran through me. Would Ritchie act unilaterally to move Amy away from our table without asking? Surely not even he would dare to do that?
“Whatever the reason he phoned,” Mum continued, “I think that was the first time that he’d tried to contact her since the play. Amy was as surprised as you were to see his name pop up on her phone. She panicked, rejected the call and thought the best way of dealing with a name that both you and she had banished to the back of your minds was to say that it was just her mum waiting with the car.”
She paused and then went on, “I know you’re confused that she lied to you. But sometimes people lie to protect the people they love the most, to stop them finding out about things that they think might hurt them. I think she just acted on impulse.
“Jake, it’s not nice to be lied to by someone you love. But you have been and this won’t be the last time. No matter how perfect your relationship is, whether it’s with Amy or anyone else, you’ll tell your partner the odd white lie and they’ll do the same to you. Most of the time that won’t matter and you won’t find out. But occasionally you will and it will hurt you and it will make you suspicious.”
“So what should I do?” I asked. “Should I say something, bring it out into the open?”
Mum shook her head. “No,” she said. “Accusing her of deceiving you when she probably did what she thought was best at the time is not going to help anyone. Put it out of your mind. Focus on getting settled in to your work at the Campsite and then prepare to give her the evening of her life at the Prom.”
“And Ritchie?” I asked. “What happens when he finds out with everyone else at the Prom that Amy and I are together?”
“Well he’ll have to take it on the chin,” Mum said. “And if there are any problems, phone me and I will come and get you. With or without Amy. Is that clear?”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said.
“Does Lauren know what happened at the cast party?” she asked.
“She’s aware that someone else wanted to hook up with Amy and she’s probably guessed that that person was Ritchie,” I replied. “But no more than that.”
“Jake, I think you should tell Lauren,” Mum said. “Just in case. She can help keep her eyes out for the two if you.”
“I was trying to avoid that,” I said.
“Jake,” Mum said. “I love you very much and I’m really, really proud of you. You’ve achieved so much, you really have. Your Dad and I have brought you up to be very independent and, particularly with the farm, to take on a lot of responsibility. But there’s a flip side: You can’t solve every difficult situation on your own, sometimes a problem is too big even for you to deal with, without help.”
“Thanks Mum,” I said. “I love you too.”
“Whatever happens, Dad and I are always here for you,” she said. “Come on, let’s go inside and have supper.”
—
That evening, I sent a couple of texts to Amy, thanking her for a lovely time in Dorset and wishing her all the best for her first day of work at the Stables. She responded with the usual chatter and a barrage of photos that she’d taken over the weekend.
I have to admit to overanalysing everything that she wrote, but there was nothing to confirm any suspicion I might have had or wanted to have. Despite that, I stayed awake for an hour or so, raking over Ritchie’s attempt to contact her.
The call had thrown a different light on the events of our weekend away. Amy and I had hit our first bump in the road on the Friday evening, after I’d revealed that I’d told James (one of my oldest friends) about our relationship without consulting her first. Then the following night, as we cuddled in bed, she’d told me that she felt that our relationship was unbalanced and that she thought things could get better — that had stung a lot.
And now the phone call from Ritchie. Was Amy preparing to jump ship to him? Had she been keeping him interested, in reserve all along? During Study Leave, I’d been with her in the mornings, but what about the afternoons when I’d gone to the library with James? Had Ritchie been waiting round the corner, ready to slide into my chair at the dining room table, or worse into her bed? I had visions of her arriving at the Prom with me and leaving with him.
I was paranoid and suspicious, and I hated myself for it.
—
Monday dawned and I drove into town early to visit the florist. I wasn’t the first person from my school to be ordering a corsage and buttonhole for the Prom, but the rather fierce sales assistant told me that coming in almost a week in advance was the right thing to do, as I’d have a free choice, whereas anyone ordering on Friday afternoon or Saturday morning would “get what they were given.”
I explained Amy’s dress colour scheme and showed the assistant some of the photos which I’d found online, of corsages that I liked the look of. She seemed surprised that I’d done a little bit of homework before pitching up at the shop. I handed over the money and watched as she wrote the details down. As she tore off the receipt, I read the name of the other student who’d already placed an order for the Prom: ‘Derek Tan’. Lauren would be pleased, I thought.
Flowers ordered, I messaged Amy to wish her luck again on her first day at the Stables. She responded seconds later with a selfie of her with a horse. Plus ça change…
I’d arranged to meet Danny for a quick coffee in town that morning, partly because I needed to tell him that Amy and I were going out, but also because I wanted to give him the opportunity to tell me about him and Lauren, if he wanted to. The whole thing was a complete charade, as I found out that he knew about us when Amy and I had caught Lauren giving him a blowjob in one of the barns on the farm at the end of May. The only person who officially knew about both relationships was Lauren and she was unaware that I knew about her and Danny!
Danny and I duly exchanged revelations. He seemed a little concerned that I might disapprove of him dating my cousin, especially so soon after Becky had broken his heart by getting together with James, but I was genuinely happy for them both. We discussed our summer plans (Danny was trying to find a job in a shop or restaurant in town) and also the impending Prom. I passed James’ advice on buying a corsage for Lauren, although I was careful not to attribute the source.
“What are you doing after the Prom?” asked Danny.
“Rob – that’s Amy’s step-dad – is going to pick us up and will take us back to her house. I get to sleep on the airbed in the sitting room again,” I replied. I didn’t really want to know what he and Lauren were going to do that night, but it seemed very unlikely that Danny’s mother would let them share a bed together.
I walked back to the car and sent Lauren a message to congratulate her on coupling up with Danny. ‘How did you keep it a secret for so long?’ I asked…
—
I drove up to the Campsite, ready to begin the first day of my Summer job. I’d been looking forward to starting work there all term. Although I loved looking after animals, working on the farm could be a very solitary experience at times and it would be good to spend more time around real people, even if most of the customers for the first month would be primary school children aged around ten or eleven.
I’d been offered a reasonable mix of shifts, a balance between early starts to help get breakfast ready (which meant I could see Amy after her work at the Stables) and later finishes to help serve supper (which gave me an opportunity to help Dad out with the milking in the morning). A couple of nights each week, I’d have to sleep up at the campsite to be ‘on call’, but that wouldn’t start until after the Prom.
Most of the job was focused on running activities for the kids, setting treasure trails, helping them to pitch their own tents, supervising them on the assault course, refereeing football games – you get the general idea. The pay was reasonably good too, as I already had a first aid certificate. The fact that I could play the guitar meant that I could help lead the singing around the campfire in the evenings and spared me from washing up duty!
The first day passed fairly uneventfully, save for a couple of cuts and bruises from the kids who were staying with us. I was paired up with a guy called Charlie, who was a year older than me and had just completed his first year of his Engineering degree at Cambridge, although at a different college from the one I was heading to. We got on well from the start and I enjoyed hearing about his university experiences.
After supper, I had half an hour to kill before we had to gather round the fire, so I decided to give Amy a call.
“Hello my lovely!” she said as she answered on the first ring.
“Hello Amy,” I said. “How did it go today?”
“Fantastic,” she said, “it was really fun, but I’m so tired. I’ve never worked so hard in one day.”
“Oh well,” I said, “that’s life in the country for you. Now you know why I have such big muscles!”
We chatted easily for twenty minutes and I confirmed my shift pattern with her for the rest of the week. I’d be on the late shift for Tuesday and Wednesday, which meant starting around two and then staying until about ten in the evening. Then I’d switch to three days of ‘earlies’, being on site from six in the morning until lunch was over.
Amy had both days off at the weekend and was a little disappointed to hear that I’d be working on the morning of the Prom. To be fair, I had sprung this on her with little warning, but I’d effectively swapped my Sunday late shift for a Saturday early, so that I could spend more time with her the day after.
I rang off, promising that I’d pick her up from the Stables on the Thursday, so that we could spend the evening together. Then I picked up my guitar and headed for the campfire.
—
I waited a little nervously for Amy to finish work at the Stables on Thursday afternoon; it was the first time I’d seen her since the train journey back from Dorset the previous Sunday afternoon. Of course we’d spoken on the phone every night and had exchanged multiple photos, but it just wasn’t the same as seeing her. I’d been replaying the weekend over again in my mind and thinking about the various conversations that we’d had.
I guess I’d come to the realisation that Amy had changed a fair bit over the course of the past two months. If I was only in love with the tearful girl whom I’d rescued from Ritchie’s clutches, then there was no point the two of us continuing — she’d never been a fairy tale damsel-in-distress. Amy was maturing rapidly and her confidence would only grow further over the summer with her job at the Stables, passing her driving test (hopefully) and then starting at university as an undergraduate.
Amy was late again, but that didn’t matter. She walked down the road, with a huge smile across her face. There was something about her, a new confidence; she was holding herself a little taller perhaps. She dragged me off the footpath and behind the big hawthorn bush, that we used as our secret ‘make out spot’ whenever I met her from the Stables.
“Ah Jake, I’ve missed you so much,” she panted as she squeezed me tightly to her.
“Me too,” I said. “I love you, Amy.”
“I love you too Jake,” she smiled.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go down to the millpond.”
We walked hand in hand across the fields and Amy chattered away about her day.
“How was your pizza with Frankie last night?” I asked. (Frankie had played the Nurse in the school production of Romeo and Juliet, and she and Amy were fast becoming good friends. She’d be on our table for the meal at the Prom as well.)
“Really good,” she replied, “yeah, really good fun.”
“And you told her about us?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Amy confirmed. “She was really pleased. She thinks you’re great. She says you’re a keeper!”
I blushed. “I like Frankie.”
“Anyway, you’ll never guess, but she’s just started going out with someone!” she said excitedly.
“Really, who?” I asked, both pleased and relieved to hear that she’d finally put her relationship with Ross the Shit behind her.
“Nick!”
“Crikey!” I exclaimed, certain of Lauren’s influence at work.
“Yeah, isn’t that fantastic!” she smiled. “That means there’ll be four couples on our table at the Prom – all eight of us!”
“Yes, we’re not doing very well at being a table of singletons,” I laughed.
“Well you did tell me that nerds have more fun,” she replied cheekily, squeezing my butt.
“Oh by the way,” I said. “Lauren’s making up some collages of some photos of our year group through our time at school, to have on display at the Prom.”
“That sounds like a good idea! I can’t wait to see how cute you looked, when you were younger!” Amy replied.
“It’ll certainly be a shock to some to see how much we’ve changed in seven years!” I replied with a wry smile. “Anyway, she’s got a photo of us performing together at the Easter Concert last year apparently and she wants to check we’re happy for her to use it. Is that OK?”
“Yes, of course, that’ll be really nice.”
“Good,” I replied. “I’ll let her know. I think Danny is helping her put it all together.”
“Oh and one more thing,” I added, “I’m going for a drink with Stijn and maybe Ian tomorrow evening. Is it OK to tell them about us?”
“Yes, of course it is!” Amy smiled. “I love you Jake.”
—
We neared the top of the bank above the millpond. Amy made to walk down the slope towards the jetty, but I pulled her back.
“Do you mind if we just sit down here for a minute?” I asked.
“No, that’s fine,” Amy replied, a little warily.
We sat down and I held her hand. “I’ve been thinking about what you said on Saturday night, about us.”
She looked up at me, a little anxiously and nodded.
“And you’re right,” I continued. “We were stuck in a rut, and maybe that wasn’t anyone’s fault, and exams certainly didn’t help. But now we’re free and when we see each other, we won’t be sitting across a table with a mountain of books and revision notes! We’re gonna have an amazing summer together and it’s gonna be so much fun!”
“Oh Jake, that’s so wonderful,” she said. “I was really worried I’d upset you.”
“No you didn’t upset me,” I lied, putting my arm over her shoulders. “You said what needed to be said.”
I kissed her forehead.
“I really love you Amy, I want this to get even better,” I said.
“I really love you too Jake,” she smiled. “And I can’t wait for Saturday!”
—
Saturday afternoon: The day of the Prom. The day that, apparently, every girl in our year group had dreaming of since they’d joined the school. The day I’d been anxious about since the beginning of term.
I crunched up the driveway in my dress suit and black bow tie, carrying the box from the florist with Amy’s corsage and my buttonhole. My dinner jacket was a little tight across the shoulders and I mused that either my Dad was a size smaller than me or it had shrunk over the years. I was a little nervous, but was looking forward to the evening.
Rob, Amy’s step-dad, answered the front door and greeted me with a smile.
“Come on in Jake! You look very smart,” he said. “Amy’s upstairs with Jenny, doing her hair – could take hours!” he confided.
I followed him down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house.
“I’m just cooking supper for the twins,” he explained. “They’re watching Doctor Who at the moment. Have a seat,” he motioned to the pine table.
“Water?” he offered.
“Thanks,” I said. He filled three glasses with water and brought them over, sliding one across the table to where I was sitting.
“I think this is the part when I say that it my step-daughter isn’t back here by midnight, I’ll be after you with my shotgun,” he quipped, “but as I’m picking the two of you up at eleven o’clock, it’ll be my fault if you’re not home on time!”
I forced a laugh. He’d clearly been thinking of that joke all day.
“I’ve printed out the map for you, and here’s a copy of the invitation with all the timings,” I said, trying to look conscientious.
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he said. “I know where I’m going, besides, I’m sure it will run over — you’ll still be partying at half eleven.”
I said nothing, but thought it unlikely that the teachers from our school who’d been pressed into policing the event would want to stay a minute longer than necessary.
Rob opened the oven door and removed a tray with fish fingers and chips, before serving them onto two plates.
“I’ll just go and call the boys,” he said.
Ben and Tom, Amy’s eight-year-old step-brothers, scampered down the hallway into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when they saw me in my dress suit.
“Are you and Amy getting married?” asked one. (I wasn’t sure which, I still couldn’t tell them apart, even after three months.)
“Not yet,” I said. “Maybe one day, but not for a long time.”
“Why are you wearing a bow tie?” asked the other.
“I’m going to take Amy to a dance this evening, it’s called a Prom,” I explained.
Apparently satisfied with my responses, the twins raced to the table and started tucking in to their supper.
“Jake,” I heard Amy call from the top of the stairs.
Rob smiled at me as I got up and made my way to the door.
I walked down the hallway, my heart beating a little faster. I’d already seen Amy in her Prom dress on the night that we went to dinner at The Crown, but with her mother’s help for her hair and make up, her appearance had been transformed to another level.
“Wow, you look so beautiful,” I gasped. My heart somersaulted with love and joy.
Her silver necklace with the aquamarine pendant sparkled as she began to walk carefully down the stairs. I reached up as she neared the bottom few steps, taking her hand in mine.
“I love you so much,” I said simply.
“I love you too Jake,” she replied.
I lead her down the hallway to the kitchen and I heard her mum’s footsteps beginning to descend the stairs behind us.
The boys looked up from their suppers and we entered.
“I like your dress,” said Ben.
“You look beautiful,” said Tom.
Rob had obviously told them what to say.
“Oh, thank you,” Amy smiled shyly.
Jenny entered the kitchen behind us.
“Oh, hello Jake,” she said. “You look very smart.”
“Thank you,” I said blushing. “Now there’s just one more thing before we’re ready.” I picked up the box from the florist, which I’d left on the kitchen table.
The rather strict shop assistant had told me that under no circumstances was I to attempt to help Amy to put on her corsage. Instead I was to offer her mum the opportunity to add the final finishing touch; to complete the ritual if you will.
I opened the box to show them the corsage and buttonhole.
“Ah Jake, it’s beautiful!” Amy squeaked with delight.
“Would you like to help Amy put it on?” I asked Jenny.
“Of course,” she smiled. My girlfriend offered her wrist and her mother tied the ribbon to secure the bracelet of flowers.
Then I presented the buttonhole to Amy and asked her to help me attach it to the lapel of my dinner jacket.
Finally our outfits were complete and, holding hands, we turned to face her family.
“You two make a very handsome couple,” said Jenny, with a beaming smile. “Let me take some photos of the two of you together in the garden.”
Amy and I posed in front of various shrubs and trees. Most of the photos were of the two of us together, but for some we posed on our own and in one Amy was joined by her two step-brothers, who were a little nonplussed by the fuss being made of their step-sister and her boyfriend. Finally I took some pictures of mother and daughter together.
My phone rang; it was James telling me that the limousine was about three minutes away. Time for a last-minute check in the mirror in the hallway, then the six of us (me, Amy, Jenny, Rob, Ben and Tom) trooped out into the front garden as the vehicle drew up at the end of the driveway.
I held the door open for Amy and she climbed in. I followed, shutting it behind me. Then we waved to her family as we set off. I thought I saw her mother turning away and bringing her hand to her eye, as if to wipe away a little tear.
—
It was only a ten-minute journey from Amy’s house to the Prom. The venue was a chain hotel on the ring road, certainly not the most glamorous of places, but affordable for the school. It was squarely aimed at the mid-range business traveller; any tourist foolish enough to want to stay the night in our town would generally end up at The Crown.
The event itself would take place in the Banqueting Suite, which was a separate building to the main hotel, across the car park. There was a large dining area, which could take around a hundred and forty people sitting around circular tables of eight. Lauren had plotted our group at the start of the Summer Term (two months earlier); Amy and I would be sitting with Danny and her, as well as Libby and Derek and Nick and Frankie. Having set out with the intention of creating a ‘table of nerdy singletons’, the irony was that with the various new romances and break ups in the past term, Lauren had managed to create one of the few groupings composed entirely of couples. (Some tables had had to be substantially altered at the last minute, to work around relationships that had ended since the start of May.)
There was a relatively large foyer to one side, with a bar across the back wall, where we’d congregate before the meal started and receive our free glass of low-alcohol punch. (Later the bar would be open for students to purchase ‘limited’ alcoholic drinks, whatever that meant.) The professional photographer that the school had hired would initially be stationed in the foyer, to take photos as everyone arrived and Lauren’s photo collages would be on display on boards along one wall.
The limousine turned off the main road and slowed to a crawl as we joined the queue of vehicles waiting to drop off their attendees in front of the Banqueting Suite. If it had been up to me, I would have jumped out there and then to avoid the wait, but for the girls it was important to be able to gracefully exit the limousine and then to walk up the red carpet. They spent the delay complementing each other on their dresses, hair and make up, while we cynical males gave each other meaningful looks.
—
I’ve never been a photos guy, never. The whole selfie thing is still a mystery to me. Why anyone could be so vain as to want to document their life in that way seems utterly bizarre. Amy was the exact opposite. She’d take a dozen photos every morning before breakfast and like twice that number posted by others on social media. I suppose it was understandable; it was the way she kept in touch with the friends from her previous school and perhaps without that regular online interaction, the bond between them would have faded. Pretty early on in my relationship with Amy, it became obvious that this was one area where we’d have to compromise. And by compromise, I do of course mean that I’d give in to every one of her pleas to take ‘just one more photo’.
But if there was ever a time that I was close to being converted to the cause then it was that night, the night of the Prom. Maybe it was just that I’d rapidly downed two glasses of champagne in the limo, maybe it was the spectacle of a hundred and forty of my classmates, all dressed in their ball gowns and tuxedos, or the fact that even I, the most cynical student in the school, realised that the memories we were making would last a lifetime.
So there were photos, hundreds of photos, firstly with the professional photographer – she took a very good one of the six of us who’d travelled together in the limo and then photos of the individual couples. After that we mingled with the others, taking any and every opportunity to pose with groups large and small, even with students we didn’t know particularly well. James and I even press-ganged our Physics teacher (who was trying very hard to look like he was enjoying himself) into having his picture taken with the two of us, plus Derek and Libby.
I temporarily lost sight of Amy as she went off to join a group of girls from her English class and watched as Lauren and Danny posed for what must have been their fortieth picture together. I was suddenly conscious of someone looking at me, not in a menacing way, but slightly nervous, as if wanting to talk to me, but not sure if he could or should. He stood a little apart from the rest of the students, as if somewhat bewildered by the melee.
I walked across to him. “Hey Billy,” I said. “Let’s get a picture together.”
He looked at me a little anxiously. “You sure?” he said.
“Yeah, of course” I replied, putting my arm across his shoulder and bringing him across to where Danny and Lauren were standing. “You know, maybe when we’re old men, we’ll look back at this photo and wonder why we hated each other so much.”
“Oi Lauren,” I said handing her my phone. “Take one of me and Billy.”
My cousin gave the slightest hint of a raised eyebrow but complied. Then, to my surprise Billy offered her his phone too.
“Sorry, would you mind?” he asked, a little nervously. “I’d quite like one as well, if that’s OK.”
Photos taken and phones returned, I put my hand on Billy’s shoulder again.
“Hey, if I don’t see you again,” I said, “good luck for Durham.”
“Yeah, same for you at Cambridge,” he said. Then for the first time in his life, Billy Smythe smiled at me, a warm genuine smile. Then he disappeared back into the crowd of students.
—
I located Amy again by the photo collages that Lauren and Danny had compiled.
“Hello beautiful,” I said, coming up behind her and lightly kissing the top of her head.
“Oh, hello lovely,” she smiled as she turned to me. “I was wondering where you’d got to. I’ve been looking at these pictures,” she said, “I can’t believe how young you all look!”
Amy pointed to a photo of James, Danny and me, all wearing school uniform; it must have been taken within a week or two of us starting Secondary School.
“How old were you then?” she asked.
“That’s Year 7,” I replied. “The three of us would have been eleven – that’s really early days, that is.”
“You look so cute,” she said. “Your hair was a bit lighter then. And that’s Danny? I didn’t know he wore glasses!”
“He mostly wears contacts now,” I said, “but sometimes if I go round to his house in the evening or at the weekend he’s wearing them.” (Best not to mention Becky, the reason why Danny had ditched the specs in the first place – all that was long forgotten now.)
We continued to look through the photos, moving from left to right as the pictures became more recent. There were a good number from the play, and Lauren had asked to use many of the shots that I’d taken of the actors having their make up done. There was a good photo of Ritchie (as Romeo) with Billy (playing Mercutio) on stage together during the dress rehearsal. There were some pictures from lessons too — a particularly candid one of Libby and Derek together during a Physics experiment from a couple of terms before, which quite clearly showed his interest in her.
Amy gasped. “Look,” she said, “it’s us!”
And so it was. Pride of place in the centre of the final board, was a photo of the two of us performing together at the concert at the end of our Spring Term of our Lower Sixth – me on the guitar and Amy with the Bodhrán. I was singing, looking out into the audience, but the camera had a full view of Amy’s face, watching me intently as she waited for her cue to join me for the chorus. The look in her eyes was unmistakeable – a look of admiration and love.
“I fancied you so much,” she admitted. “I was really hoping you’d dump Lauren and go out with me instead!”
I laughed and put my arm around her. “You look so beautiful in that photo,” I said.
She turned me. “And you look pretty fine yourself!” she smiled.
I bent down to kiss her on the lips for the first time that evening.
“I love you Amy,” I said looking deep into her eyes, “I really do.”
She reached up and tickled my nose, an affectation she’d picked up from Rachel and Stijn. “I love you too Jake,” she replied.
I looked up, catching sight of a tall figure glowering at us intently from the other side of the room.
Ritchie!
My stomach lurched.
He curled his lip in disgust, anger and hatred burning in his eyes. I held his gaze defiantly for a few seconds as I embraced my girlfriend tightly. Then the crowds of students between us closed together and he was lost from view.
Amy laid her head on my chest, oblivious to it all.
—
Lauren and I had agreed to sit on opposite sides of our table, partly because this was the best way of keeping an eye out for Ritchie, but also because we saw so much of each other, it would be good to talk to the other two couples in our group.
Amy sat immediately to my left, with Derek on her other side. It turned out she knew Derek by sight, as they played in the town orchestra together, but she hadn’t recognised his name when I’d first mentioned that he might join our table. I had been a little worried that he and Libby might be too quiet (and to be honest, a little boring), but the two of them had undergone something of a transformation over the course of the term and were chatting away animatedly to Amy.
I turned to Frankie, sitting on my right side. “I haven’t seen you since the play,” I said.
“No,” she said. “That’s terrible really. I used to see you so much, with being friends with Lauren.”
“I hear congratulations are in order,” I said quietly, nodding my head towards Nick, who was in deep conversation with my cousin.
Frankie blushed. “Thanks Jake. It all happened during Study Leave and, well, it’s early days, but it’s really good so far.”
“That’s fantastic, I’m really happy for you. Honestly, Study Leave has a lot to answer for, all anyone’s done is either split up with their partner or start going out with someone new! No one’s done any work.”
“You mean except boring people like you and Amy?” she teased.
I blushed.
“Congratulations to you as well,” she said. “Don’t worry, I got all the details from Amy on Wednesday.”
“Oh?” I said, wondering if Amy might even have told her about Ritchie’s antics at the cast party.
“Apparently she lost her key and you broke in through her bathroom window,” Frankie said, raising her eyebrows.
I nodded a little embarrassed. No, Amy hadn’t told her about Ritchie.
“I’m not surprised. Didn’t you break into Danny’s garage when we were in Year 7? Hadn’t he locked his sister in there or something?” she pressed.
I laughed. I remembered the incident well. James and I had been at Danny’s house one afternoon when his parents had gone out. Emma must have been what, eight or nine at the time, we’d have been eleven or twelve? She’d been particularly bratty all day and Danny had locked her in the garage so the three of us could have an hour of peace and quiet without her pestering. But Danny being Danny had forgotten where he’d left the key, so when Emma started screaming the place down, I’d slipped the catch on the up-and-over steel door to let her out before the neighbours complained. Danny had been in a shitload of trouble from his mum over that incident and it had been two years before James and I were allowed to go round to his house again!
“I can’t believe how much Danny has changed,” I sighed. “He almost looks sensible now!”
Frankie followed my gaze. “You know, they’re one of those couples that no one would ever put together, but somehow they really work.”
“You think so?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “I think they might go the distance; they’ll certainly surprise us.”
—
The waiters began to clear the plates from the main course, so I pushed back my chair and headed to the bathroom. Having relieved myself in the urinal, I washed my hands in one of the basins, moving to the mirror to adjust my quiff.
Maybe it was the influence of the champagne from the limo and the wine we’d been served with the meal, but I allowed myself to linger a little to admire my reflection. There was a healthy glow about me from being outside at the Campsite all week. Amy was damn lucky to have such a buff boyfriend, I thought.
There was the sound of a toilet flushing and then a click as the lock on a cubicle was slid open.
I turned. Ritchie stepped out, blocking my exit from the bathroom.
My heart sank. This was the moment that I’d been hoping I could avoid. I shuddered.
“Ah, Jake,” he said. “I thought I could smell the sweet scent of cow shit!”
Not this again, I’d thought he’d grown out of the ‘Jake smells of manure’ jibes two years earlier.
“Amy Norton, nice little stunt you’ve pulled there, Jake,” he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Mind you, she’s so frigid, I can’t imagine you’ve got anywhere near her stunt!” he sniggered.
“Hilarious Ritchie, now fuck off and let me go.” I made to pass around him, but he shoved me with his shoulder, pushing me up against the wall. Quick as a flash, he grabbed one of my wrists and twisted it behind me.
“Hey, not so fast my little friend,” he sneered into my ear. “Running back to your little cousin are we? Gonna get her to protect you? She’s not interested any more Jake! I hear she’s shagging Danny! Danny! I mean for fuck’s sake, you were such a lousy lay that Lauren went for fucking Danny?”
“Tell me,” he whispered, “what feels better, Amy giving head or fucking a sheep?”
The red mist of anger rose within me. I jabbed my free elbow back into his stomach. The first was a weak blow, but he flinched a little in surprise, giving me more space to make my second jab harder.
Ritchie gasped in pain, I’d properly hurt him this time. He recoiled further, letting me turn away from the wall, then he straightened up. “You wanna fight Jake? Come on then, let’s see what you can do.”
“Fuck off Ritchie,” I snapped. “The only way you’ll beat me in a fight is if I choreograph it for you.”
We stared each other down. There was a hatred in his eyes; he was drunk on his own rage.
He lunged forwards to strike me, fists raised. At the last moment, I sidestepped, sticking my leg out to trip him, sending him crashing to the floor, sprawling beneath the urinals.
I stood over him, gloating in triumph. “You gonna drink that?” I taunted, pointing to the pool of stale urine in front of him. “Must make a change from sucking the Headteacher’s cock. You’re a fucking lowlife Ritchie! You’re a cunt, a fucking cunt! Don’t let me see you again.”
With that, I turned on my heel and stalked out of the bathroom.
—
Adrenaline surged through me as I walked back to the table. I was pumped. I’d beaten the arsehole who’d made my life a misery for the past seven years, in a fight that he’d chosen to pick. I took some deep breaths and attempted to calm down, telling myself that getting into a punch up on my last official school engagement was not something to be proud of.
Part of me wanted to follow Amy’s mother’s advice, to go tell a teacher, but I decided not to run the risk of getting myself thrown out of the Prom for fighting. No matter who had instigated what, Ritchie had come off as the losing party and the staff were bound to side with the Head Boy over me. The last thing I wanted to do was to ruin Amy’s night.
I approached our table, so that I was directly behind Amy, and beckoned Lauren over to me. She got up and quickly moved to join me.
“You OK, Jake?” she asked, concerned.
“Yes, I’m OK,” I said nervously. “I’ve just had a bit of a scrap with Ritchie.”
“Oh no,” she responded.
“It’s OK,” I said, “no one got hurt and I don’t think anything else will happen tonight, but can you just keep an eye on Amy for me? Don’t say anything, but can you just make sure you’re with her if she goes to the bathroom? I just don’t want her to be on her own at any point, just in case.”
“Of course,” Lauren replied. “Got her back!”
My heart was still thumping in my chest as I sat down next to Amy again. I reached under the table and took her hand in mine. She turned to me and smiled.
“I love you Amy, I really do,” I said.
“I love you too Jake,” she replied.
—
Amy and I held each other tightly, circling each other as we danced the final dance. She smiled at me through sparkly eyes. I tried not to grimace as Zac Efron crooned away to one of the cheesiest songs in the Disney canon.
I leant down and whispered in her ear “I’ve had a really amazing night, it’s been so special. You look so beautiful!”
“This is magical,” she agreed, “I love you so much. I’m so looking forward to the summer. It’s gonna be the start of something new!”
She was right, it was magical. My heart swelled with love for her as I held her close. I was so happy; everything was perfect.
—
The music ended on the stroke of ten to eleven and the hotel staff flipped on the bright main lights to encourage us to leave quickly.
A good number had left the Prom already, to move on to venues where the alcohol was more plentiful (and the music was better). Nevertheless, there was a long stream of students rushing to grab coats and bags before heading out of the exit. Lauren had asked Amy and me to help her and Danny to collect up the decorations. As the others milled around us, we struggled a little to dismantle the photoboards, not helped by the fact that the duty manager was hassling us along.
Almost ten minutes later, the four of us were bundled out of the doors, which were rapidly locked behind us. There was a car with its engine idling a few metres away.
Danny’s dad wound down the window. “Come on you two,” he said, addressing his son and his girlfriend.
We helped Lauren load the photoboards into the boot of the car, then she and Danny got in.
“Are you sure you two don’t want a lift?” Danny’s dad asked.
“No, it’s OK thank you,” Amy replied. “My step-dad will be hear any minute.”
Danny’s dad drove off and I watched the tail lights receding. I was half-tempted to overrule Amy and to chase after him to say we’d changed our minds, but decided against it. Rob had promised he’d be here after all.
—
I looked at the time on my phone. It was twenty past eleven. It was fully dark and getting cold; I’d given Amy my dinner jacket to put over her shoulders but, even so, she was beginning to shiver. It was just the two of us left; the melee of students had long dispersed.
Where the fuck was Rob? It had been over a quarter of an hour since Danny’s dad had driven away. The lights behind us in the Banqueting Suite were off now and, although the car park was relatively brightly lit, I still felt a little vulnerable.
“Come on Amy,” I said. “Let’s go across to the main hotel Reception and get them to call a taxi for us.”
“But he said he’d pick us up from here,” she protested.
“Yeah, but we’ve been waiting for what, twenty minutes,” I replied. “He’s either fallen asleep or he’s lost. Come on, we’ve got to get home.”
I put my arm around her waist and began to walk slowly with her. I could see the main hotel entrance perhaps a hundred metres away, but Amy was struggling a little in her heels.
A car drove towards us and I looked hopefully to see if it was Rob, but the headlights turned away and disappeared back to the main road.
We stopped to allow Amy to adjust her shoe.
“Well, well, well,” called a voice, “what do we have here? Oh it’s the farm faggot and his little ice maiden again.”
I turned. Ritchie was standing behind us, legs apart, arms folded across his chest.
“Can’t see what you see in him,” he sneered, addressing Amy, “is it the smell of bullshit or the fact he’s fucked all his sheep? Well, I expect you like a guy who knows how to handle a cow’s udders!” he cackled, very pleased with himself.
I started to edge the two of us away, towards the main hotel entrance. “Fuck off Ritchie,” I shouted, “just go away.”
“That the best you can do? Scared of me now?” he mocked, “Go on, run back to little Lauren. Gonna get her to protect you?” He curled his lip and looked across at Amy, “Oh don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll fuck you after he’s fucked her again. She gives better head, or so he tells me.”
“Come on Amy,” I said, “let’s get to Reception.”
“Oooh, scared are we?” he taunted me. “Not so clever now, are we Mr Cambridge? Not going to stand up for your frigid little bitch?”
Then I saw it, a flash of steel reflecting the lights of the car park. Fuck! He had a knife.
“Ritchie,” I said, hearing my voice tremble. “Please put that down, before you do something you regret.”
“The only regret I have,” he said, gritting his teeth, “is that I didn’t deal with you earlier.”
“Amy, run!” I screamed.
Ritchie lurched forwards, knife outstretched. I dodged to one side, twisting, shoving him downward, making him lose his balance. I felt a sharp scratch in my upper arm. He’d torn my shirt; I’d worry about that later. He sprawled beneath me on the tarmac. I kicked the knife out of his grasp, and it skidded away into the shadows.
I bent over him, grabbing his collar, and screamed into his ear. “You fucking idiot, you fucking loser. Fuck off and don’t let me ever see you again. And if you ever try to lay a finger on Amy or me again, your life won’t be fucking worth living.”
I released him and a figure ran from the shadows.
“Ritchie, what the fuck have you done?” it screamed. It was Billy – Billy Smythe.
Billy pulled him to his feet, but Ritchie twisted away and darted back into the blackness.
“Jake! Your arm, you’re bleeding!” Amy said in a shocked voice behind me.
“It’s OK, it’s fine,” I said, “Let’s go and get a plaster from Reception.”
“No, no, Jake,” Billy said, “You’re really bleeding, we need to get you help.”
He pulled his shirt off and tied it tightly around my arm, then he and Amy started to guide me to the main entrance.
I looked up, there was a pair of headlights in the distance, driving towards us slowly. ‘Rob?’ I wondered.
I heard a roar behind me, then Amy screamed. A bright light flashed in front of my eyes and stars showered around me. Then I felt a shattering pain and I fell forward, blindly clawing for the ground.
There were lights, voices, shouting, screaming, more lights and intolerable pain.
Then there was darkness.