Girl, 15: Flirting for England (29 page)

She was actually looking forward to the walk home with Edouard. It would take place in a friendly silence, punctuated only by the offer of sweets.

They were getting along OK these days, Jess and Edouard. They had a ‘relationship’ which revolved around sharing little food treats, playing computer games and never, under any circumstances, attempting to communicate either in French or English. This could be the start of something small.

Chapter 38

Saturday morning finally came. The French party was due to leave. Edouard came downstairs, trying to hide his relief and carrying two tiny presents gift-wrapped in silver paper. He placed one by Mum’s plate and gave the other to Jess.

Jess’s mouth was full of toast and marmalade.

‘Mmmmmmf – waugh – hmmmmm – mmmmm –ankoo very much!’ she spluttered. Carefully, she undid the wrapping paper. Edouard watched, embarrassed.

A small box was revealed, containing a pair of utterly gorgeous treble-hooped earrings. Edouard looked as if he had never seen them before.

‘At a guess it was the Queen’s mother who is responsible for this delightful gesture,’ said Mum, opening her present also. A tiny pair of pearl earrings was revealed. Mum whooped with exaggerated joy.

‘Well, you’d be worried by any guy who would buy and gift-wrap earrings for women he’d never met,’ said Jess.

They put on their new earrings and admired themselves in the mirror.

‘Crone with a Pearl Earring,’ said Mum, fishing for compliments as usual.

‘Grade-A Nerd Sporting Fabulous Bling,’ said Jess, pouting hideously at her reflection.

They both kissed Edouard, which he endured heroically, and shortly afterwards it was time to leave. Jess had a feeling that he had been packed and ready for days. So much for him having a crush on her. (
Thank goodness!
)

The school yard was crowded with cars. French English teachers, English French teachers and students were all embracing each other, some with genuine affection.

‘Thank you for your hospital,’ said Edouard solemnly. They exchanged awkward, formal kisses. Over Edouard’s shoulder, Jess could see Flora and Gerard wrapped in a tragic final snog.

Edouard was first on to the bus. It was clear he had no wish to linger. But once installed in a window seat, he seemed overcome with last-minute tenderness. He blew kisses at Jess and Mum and waved in a frenzied manner, as if he loved them best in all the world.

‘He looks really happy,’ said Jess. ‘Do you think he enjoyed himself just a tiny little bit?’

‘I shouldn’t think so for a moment,’ said Mum. ‘He’s just overjoyed at the thought that he’ll never have to speak to us, ever again.’

‘What about when I go and stay with him next year?’ groaned Jess.

‘Oh, yes, I was forgetting,’ said Mum. ‘Of course. Next it’ll be your turn to experience the endless torture of homesickness and strange food. There is no animal so horrid that the French will not attempt to eat it.’

‘Donkeys, hippos, meerkats, wheel ’em on, kebabbed,’ said Jess. Though secretly she was planning to develop appendicitis next year. Her French trip would have to be cancelled, and Ben Jones would stop in the corridor and say, ‘I hear you’ve had appendicitis. How’s the scar? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’

‘Jess!’ A voice jolted her out of her daydream. It was Marie-Louise, who kissed her goodbye with such ferocity that her cheeks hurt. Marie-Louise handed Jess a card with her address on it, and Jess promised to stay in touch.

Then somebody tapped her on the shoulder. She turned round. It was Gerard. His green eyes were fixed on her. He grabbed both her hands and kissed her: left, right, left. Jess couldn’t help feeling a little tiny flutter, just for old time’s sake.

Then he swept her into his arms for a goodbye hug. He smelt really nice. Jess tried not to enjoy it too much. She knew that Flora, and possibly Jodie, would be watching and that, though tempted to cling on slightly, she must, in fact, let go.

But a split second before releasing her, Gerard whispered something in her ear.

‘Jess . . . Lovely Jess! I would like to kiss you a hundred times. Please, write to me.’

Jess was thunderstruck.

Then he let her go and presented her with his card. Off he went, hugging and kissing the others and giving everybody his card. Was he whispering that kind of stuff to everybody? Jess stood still, totally gobsmacked, in a freeze frame.
What
had he said again? ‘I would like to kiss you a hundred times.’ The filthy swine! The treacherous beast!

Maybe she had misheard. Surely he hadn’t said that. She was utterly speechless, amazed, shocked and stunned. She just wanted to be somewhere else, and fast.

‘Come on, Mum,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Wait a minute,’ said Mum. ‘We have to see them off.’

The rest of the goodbyes passed in a blur, but eventually the French buses swept away out of the car park, leaving an unpleasant smell of carbon monoxide.

‘Well,’ said Mum, with a relieved sigh, ‘that’s the end of that little saga.’

But it wasn’t, quite.

Chapter 39

Next day Jess and Flora went to the ice rink, but Flora was in low spirits.

‘I miss him
so
much,’ she said, her blue eyes huge and glistening with tears as they glided round the gloomy cavernous rink to the sound of terrible 1980s music.

Jess said nothing. She couldn’t tell Flora about what Gerard had said about wanting to kiss her. It would devastate her. Jess just gritted her teeth and concentrated on not falling on her bum.

‘He sent me five texts yesterday, when he was on the journey home,’ said Flora.

‘Terrific,’ said Jess. ‘Must be some kind of record.’ It was really hard not to take the mickey.

‘But nothing today,’ said Flora.

‘Well, he’s probably asleep after the journey,’ said Jess.

‘Time is meaningless,’ sighed Flora. ‘It seems about a month since yesterday. I’m going to e-mail him as soon as I get home.’

Monday arrived: back to normal school. For Jess life now revolved around trying to get a glimpse of Ben Jones. He wasn’t in their class, but there was always the chance of seeing him strolling around the corridors somewhere.

Jess started to keep a BenLog in the back of her rough book. It went like this:

Mon 11.30 a.m. Suspect spotted outside art room. Only back view available. Heart leapt into mouth, though, and stomach tied itself in cute but pulsating bow.

Mon 2 p.m. Suspect spotted in distance on school field, practising football. Took up position on low wall by rosebeds. Disaster! No binoculars. Heart thudded wildly for twenty minutes, like the hooves of a stampeding buffalo.

Mon 4 p.m. Somebody resembling suspect seen by school gate. Turned out to be Toby Williams. Same height, same blond hair, but when he turned round, face like a meat pie. Howled at the moon like a lovesick wolf.

Jess walked home with Flora, quite pleased with her day’s work. Two sightings of Ben Jones wasn’t bad for starters, though eventually, of course, she hoped to actually bump into him instead of casting longing looks at his bum disappearing in the distance.

One day – possibly tomorrow? – there might be an actual encounter in a corridor. He would smile. He would say, ‘Hi, Jess.’ He would throw his arms around her and whisper, ‘I’ve been praying I would bump into you outside geography.’

‘He hasn’t e-mailed me,’ said Flora in a voice of anguish, breaking into Jess’s divine fantasy. ‘And he still hasn’t texted me since Sunday night.’

‘Cheer up!’ said Jess. ‘I’m sure he will.’

The week passed agonisingly slowly for Flora, but for Jess the days were full of excitement. Thursday at 2.30 p.m. was Jess’s personal high point.

Face to face with Ben Jones outside staffroom! He was talking to sports teacher Mr Monroe. But he grinned at me. Heart flew out of my mouth, sailed 40 metres down the corridor and vanished around the corner. He smiled at me! Re-sult! Heart now back inside body but covered with mud and throbbing strangely. NB Must try and get interested in football.

Friday was the last day of school before the Easter hols. Everybody was overjoyed. But for once, Jess would gladly have continued to attend school on the off-chance that Ben Jones might award her another of his heart-stopping grins. Or even – oh, please, Goddess of Love! – a word. ‘Hi!’ would do. She knew he was the strong silent type. Except in her daydreams, when they walked along the beach at Malibu and he read her love poems written by himself as the surf crashed all around them and the dogs playfully tried to pull off each other’s lycra shorts.

At lunchtime on Friday Jess and Flora sat on the bench in the science quad. Flora had lost her appetite. She could no longer do justice to the baguettes. She had also lost her appetite for conversation. Jess devoured her Mexican wrap. Flora toyed with a Greek salad. Suddenly Jodie bounced into view.

‘Any room for me?’ she asked. They made space and she plonked herself down. ‘Heard from lover boy?’ she demanded. Flora blushed.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘Well, not recently.’

‘Nor have I,’ said Jodie, taking a huge bite of a hot dog. ‘Never mind. Forget him. He’s a waste of space. Have you heard about the school show at the end of next term? Apparently we can do comedy sketches as well as musical numbers and stuff. I think we should write something.’

‘Hmm,’ said Jess. She didn’t want to commit herself. If she was going to write some comedy sketches it would have to be with Flora or Fred. Fred was back at school after several days off with a cold. His voice had gone deep like a Dalek. Fred had vowed never to go camping again in his entire life. He was such a nerd.