Gone (10 page)

“Why?”

I wave my hand between the two of us.

“Aren’t you eighteen?”

“Yes but there are terms I have agreed to, and I am not sure being found in flagrante with you is one of them.”
Ooh, that’s actually quite a big word.

“Why did you need to agree to terms?”

“Because I need to leave.”

“But you just got here.”

“Exactly.” I groan a little and allow my head to land gently on his chest. I take the opportunity to breathe in that mint scent of his again. It’s intoxicating.

His hands don’t move from my lower spine, and I’m finding it strange that it’s not that odd. I’m not used to people touching me. Who would want to?

Joshua slides his nose along the edge of my ear and I begin to get that low burn again in response. “I’m starting to want to know just what it is you have done, Bex, to get brought here,” he murmurs into my ear, warm breath licking along my hairline.

I give a shiver and try to screw my eyes shut against the images that barrage inside my mind at his words. The things I did to get bought here.

“I can’t tell you.” I whisper back, my words barely audible.

“Why?”

“Because then you would not want to do this again.”

I feel his lips curve into a smile against my throat.

“Well I might.”

“But you might not.”

“So do you want to do this again?” he asks.

No. But then maybe a whole lot of yes as well.

“Maybe.”

He leans back and I see the first true smile I’ve seen from him, it’s wide, open and breathtakingly beautiful. It’s so beautiful I almost blurt out some of my awful truth.

He slides his thumb along my jaw, tilting my gaze to meet his. His green eyes bore into me, trying to find something there. He won’t find the truth, no matter how distracting he is, those are tales I’ll never tell anyone.

“Should I leave so you can have your bollocking?” He lowers his lips to mine but stops just before they touch.

I lie there like an idiot waiting to be kissed, like a teenager on her first date. Not that I ever had a first date.

After ten seconds of waiting for a kiss that is not going to arrive I open my eyes.

“What you doing?”

“Watching you.”

“Why?”

He laughs a short burst of sarcastic laughter, “I’m not sure.”

“Charming.”

“I try.”

So it’s going to be like that is it? Fine.

“Well if you have finished staring then perhaps I can proceed to go downstairs to participate in my telling off.”

“Well, I would hate to get in the way of your parental discipline.” His voice is low, dark and wicked. “I’ll come back later when it’s over.”

He’s joking right?

“Yeah, don’t bother. I will be on a lock down for at least five days.”

“No can do. I only have ten days left with you and I am planning to have them. I’ll be back later.”

Joshua rolls me off him and springs from the bed heading for the door. “Try not to get grounded, Bex, It will be hard to give you your next surf lesson if you’re locked in the attic.”

I watch him leave, but I don
’t bother replying. I know I’m not going to see him tonight or tomorrow, I need that nine grand too much. Dreadlocked boys are not part of the plan.

“Bye, Joshua,” Emily calls as we get to the front door.

“Bye, Em,” he shouts back.

“Bye, Joshua,” shouts my mum and dad followed by what sounds like sniggering.
That’s odd.

“See you later,” he whispers low into my ear.

“No, Josh.” I start but he is out of the door and down the path before I get all my words out.

I close the door and lean my forehead on it for a moment. I need to prepare my sulky teenager look. This is a huge problem because I have a wide, cheek splitting grin plastered all over my face like a bloody dosey. Now I am going to be told off for smirking as well.

Joshua

Drain Pipes and Window Sills

The kissing is going to be a problem.

Why did I do that? Now it’s going to be the only thing I’ll be able to taste until I get back to see her tonight. And I will see her tonight. I know there is little chance of me doing anything else.

It was the bangles. I am blaming the bangles for the impromptu kissing / groping. Something about watching her standing there with her eyes screwed shut, hardly breathing, completely unraveled any damn reserve I had.

Kissing Bex.

Not that I’m complaining, it was different, so different to anything before. She’s like burning fire, no coyness, no shyness, just come right at you hot.

Too hot.

I restrain myself from walking back to the front door and knocking to ask if I can hang around permanently for the next few days. I just need to give her some space with her parents and then as soon as darkness falls I will be back with the girl made of sun.

I don’t know what the deal is with her parents, but I am beginning to understand that she must have done something pretty damn bad. Not just for the fact that they have bought her here, but the way she is around them. Her body is tense like she is ready to fight or take flight. I reckon she always fights.

When her dad walked in to her room she did not look him in the eye, her body just tensed next to mine. Nor did she move away like I would have expected. She just stiffened her shoulders, like she was ready for battle. That was embarrassing, pulling her down on me like that. Embarrassing but at the same time all levels of hot. For a moment there she was pressed against every single inch of my body, and didn’t my damn body know it. Six months with no physical contact at all and then I go into overdrive and manage a lingering kiss and a full out body press all in one morning. It’s a miracle I didn’t explode there and then
.

The need to know more about her is burning under my skin. What is that with her parents? What is the thing with the bangles? I have never in my life watched someone count on fifty three bangles before. I know there were fifty three because I counted along with her. Watching her stand there with her eyes screwed shut I realised she was clearly remembering or recanting for something. Fifty three what?

Not knowing is going to torment me.

The one thing I am beginning to realise is that whatever she thinks her parents feel, I am not sure that they actually do. Whilst she avoided all eye contact with her dad, I on the other hand made sure to look him in the eye when he walked in. I don’t want him to think I am some shifty character after his daughter’s virtue, because that could not be further from the truth. When he glanced over us, it wasn’t anger that lined his features, but more relief. Relief and amusement. That is strange in itself.

My feet stop their long dragging walk from Bridge Cottage and Bex, and I look up in surprise at my destination. I didn’t even know I was heading here, but now I find myself standing outside a door I haven’t walked through in six months. Although I have walked passed it probably a thousand times, I’ve never even glanced at the door that so much of my past is shut behind. Now I am standing here sliding my keys out of my pocket and into the lock. I hear the click of the Yale as the key slides home, it’s a noise that used to mean ‘home’ to me but now sounds strange to my ears.

Taking the stairs two at a time I walk into the sunlit room. Someone has been here since I last was. Everything is covered in sheets to protect it from the motes of dust spinning around in the shafts of light coming through the glass ceiling.

This is my studio, which was once my home. The place where I used to spend all day and all night. Now it is a just a room, a room on top of a shop covered in dust.

I pad through, breathing in the musty scent, trying not to touch any of the past that lies around me, and head towards my stack of new canvases that I keep rolled in a drawer. I pull one free from the bundle and clip it on an easel before pulling the entire thing into the centre of the room, directly in one of the beams of sunlight. I spend a few minutes watching the sun shining a pale yellow on the canvas and think about just what it is I am here to do.

Am I really going to paint again, when only a few months back I swore that I was never going to put myself on a canvas again?

I can’t hold it back. The need to paint moves my hand and I slide my fingers over the blank canvas. As I do I recall what it felt like only half an hour ago when I was doing the same thing to Bex’s skin. I know that in just a few hours time I plan to do the same thing again. And I will. I kn
ow I won’t be able to stay away tonight, the need to see her is burning inside me like a drug and I know that I will try and spend every day with her until she leaves. When she is finally gone I will get back to my old self, the self that no longer paints but until then I am going to find out just who Josh is who lives to see the sun again.

I head to the kitchenette grabbing my paints from cupboards and then I start to mix and blend until I have created all the colours of a late summer harvest. Until I have created Bex on my pallet.

I close my eyes for the moment when I feel the touch of the brush against the canvas, I wait for the emotion to hit me, but it doesn’t. I start to paint instead, just like I never stopped.

***

Dusk is drifting through the skylight when I hear a sharp knock on the door down the stairs. I bet its Aunt May wanting to know where I have been since breakfast time. Whilst ‘Joshua Panic Watch’ has lessened, if I don’t check in every few hours she does tend to flip out and start scanning the beach looking for my washed up body.

I pace down the stairs and swing open the door. Dan is leaning against the frame, a smirk on his face.

“There you are, mate. I told them I would be able to find you.”

He leans in slightly and I get a whiff of rancid stale beer from his breath. I’m guessing it’s been one of
those
afternoons.

I hold in the sigh trying to escape and instead move away from the door, starting to walk back up the stairs. I want to cover my painting but I can’t use a cloth because the paint is still wet. If I turn it around it will look like I am trying to hide something. This would make Dan even more interested. Best to ignore it and hope he is too pissed to see.

“So you been here all the day?” he asks casting his eyes around the studio. Back in the day we all used to hide in here and smoke roll-ups and listen to terrible music. That was a long time ago now. The memory feels like it is veiled in my mind and I can no longer get a clear visual image of it.

“Yeah most of it,” I shrug. I am unwilling to admit the beginning of the day involved kissing the girl made of sun.

I don’t need to. Dan’s eyes fall on the canvas standing in the middle of the room. Let’s be honest there was no real way he was going to miss it.

He turns a calculating gaze on me and I can’t get a read on his expression. He looks puzzled, cross, and something else. What is that? Disappointment?

“So you all fixed now, Josh?”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Well, what I mean is.” He takes a step towards me. “For months we haven’t seen you. We’ve all been dealing with the shit from that night, it’s nearly destroyed us all, and then suddenly some redhead turns up with biker boots and you are painting again and running around on the beach holding hands like nothing ever happened. What about Faye? Don’t you think she deserves more?”

The air rushes out of my lungs.

“What? That’s not it at all. Fuck, Dan, I can’t believe you just said that!” I straighten my shoulders as anger rushes through my veins. “It’s not like I woke up
two days ago and forgot everything. And leave Faye out of this. She is her thing and I am mine.”

My fists are clenched, anger isn’t natural to me, but something in his accusatory tone is pushing my buttons. His words swirl around my head. What does he mean, redhead with biker boots, Bex was wearing flip-flops at the beach yesterday. Then I remember the first time I saw her, after Dan rated her a 7.5 and I realise he was watching her far more closely than I thought. Far closer than I would want.

“How do you know she wears biker boots?” I ask. I know there are far more important questions to ask but I am stuck on this one.

Dan gives a laugh that comes out almost like a sneer. “Shit, Josh, the whole town is talking about her, the see-through tops, the make-up, the fact you are running around up and down the high street after her, like a school boy.”

“So what, is everyone watching me to find out what crack-pot thing I do next?”

“No, everyone is waiting for you to break again, because she will break you. You know she’s going. We all know she is going. That girl is never going to stay in a town like this. And let’s be honest mate, why would she? You will never do anything more than hold hands with her.”

His words make my chest get that unfamiliar tightness again. I push it away. I know she is going, I went into this with my eyes open, I won’t be the one to ask her to stay, even though I may want to.