Popping the Cherry (7 page)

One of the downsides of having a mobile phone was that I’d got lazy, no longer bothering to memorise phone numbers any more. They were just there, stored in my contacts. To be fair, I can’t remember the last time I had to physically dial a number—even the phone at home had a built-in phone book. Speaking of which, even my own home number was foggy, and I wasn’t usually that stupid, but it wouldn’t be any good to me anyway: Mum and Dad would still be at the Wheatsheaf, and they rarely got home before two o’clock in the morning on quiz night.

The only other number I usually knew off by heart was Gemma’s home number, after years of calling it, which would have been great if I didn’t already know she was hanging out with Ben tonight. She talked about going to the late showing at the cinema, so I’d be amazed if she was home already, but I didn’t stand a chance of reaching anybody else. Trying had to be better than doing nothing, I supposed. I certainly couldn’t sit on the shop floor all night, so I punched in the number.

At least that was the plan, but I misdialled a couple of times, thanks to my trembling fingers, and had to start over each time before I finally got it right and pressed the green button. The dial tone buzzed in my ear, closely followed by a series of bleeps and then a clunk as my call was connected. It rang at the other end; once, twice, three times …
Come on, pick up, please
. But by the fifth ring my heart was doing the drumming thing inside my ribcage again and I moved my finger to hover over the red button, ready to end the call.

Now what do I do?

‘Hello?’ came a sleepy male voice.

‘Umm … h-hi,’ I don’t how I managed it, especially as I’d already pressed the button halfway down, but I moved my finger away and the line miraculously stayed connected. ‘Is G-gemma th-there p-p-please?’ I stammered, no idea who I was talking to.

‘No, who is this?’

Ah, the voice belonged to Jake, Gemma’s brother; older than we were by a few years, but he was nice, and he hardly ever teased us. He was also the least likely to freak out, which was a huge bonus.

‘H-hi J-Jake.’ If my mouth didn’t start functioning properly soon, I was going to scream. ‘It’s L-l-Lena.’

‘Lena? You sound really weird. I didn’t even recognise you. Gemma isn’t back from Ben’s yet, but she’ll have her mobile on her. Or have you tried that already?’ Jake must have heard the catch in my throat because he didn’t wait for me to reply. ‘Lena, what’s wrong?’

‘I n-need her to p-pick me up.’

‘Will I do?’ Jake asked softly. ‘Where are you? I don’t recognise the number.’

My lip wobbled and my eyes brimmed with tears. Even my elbow was shaking under the strain, and it dawned on me that I was clinging onto my self-control by only the thinnest of threads. A strange chattering sound distracted me from answering, I realised it was my teeth only when violent jerks and shudders seized control over my arms and legs. The handset slipped from my fingers, impossible to hold onto, and landed in my lap, where it bounced and jumped before scuttling to the floor.

The nice Indian lady crouched down beside me and picked it up, putting it to her ear. ‘One second please,’ she said to Jake, before looking at the man and saying something in a language I didn’t understand. Everything was getting a bit disjointed, so she could have been saying the alphabet, or counting from one to ten, and I’m not sure I’d have understood any better. He nodded and disappeared out the back as the lady started talking to Jake again. Again, her words went over my head, but I was mesmerised as this stranger talked to my best friend’s brother on the phone.

Don’t ask me why, I couldn’t explain it if I tried, but it was suddenly the funniest thing I’d ever seen. Giggles bubbled up inside my chest, then came bursting out of my mouth, right at the same time as water started pouring from my eyes. Tears cascaded over my cheeks and ran down my chin before dripping into my lap leaving little dark spots in the denim where they landed, spreading out like ink in blotting paper.

A door opened and closed somewhere behind the counter, and the man reappeared with a blanket in his hands. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he shot an alarmed look at the lady, but she just gave him a pointed nod. Who could blame him? I’d be pretty freaked by me too given the circumstances. He edged closer and I leaned forward enough for him to drape the blanket around my shoulders.

When I say ‘leaned forward’ it was actually more of a flop, and then I started to keel over until his firm hands gripped my shoulders. I could smell spices, curry powder maybe, and I swear I could smell poppadoms. My belly agreed and roared at him, determined to embarrass me even more, but he ignored it and eased me back up against the counter before releasing me slowly, making sure I wasn’t about to wind up on the floor again.

Some part of me was disappointed to miss out on the chance of doing a killer impression of a huge caterpillar emerging from a cocoon, or maybe a beetle flat on its back and trying to right itself. How funny would that have looked?

My laugh took on a crazy tone and I figured this had to be what ‘delirious’ felt like. I was being held prisoner, trapped inside my own body and I had no control whatsoever. I knew the hysterical cackling was coming from me, interspersed with hysterical sobbing too, yet there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. Instead, I snuggled deeper into the soft, warm blanket, and drew it tightly around me. Safely propped up, I felt my eyelids droop, and it was a struggle to force them back open. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d cried myself to sleep, but it would have been the first time I’d done it sitting upright chuckling at random thoughts while shivering hard enough to rattle my bones.

‘No, you must stay awake,’ the lady said, the lower half of her body stepping back into view. I hadn’t actually noticed she’d left, nor that she’d finished speaking to Jake, so she must have gone in the backroom to talk to him or something.

‘W-w-why?’

She squatted down next to me again and pressed a mug of something hot into my hands. I managed to spill half of it down my chin before she’d even fully let go. The hot liquid ran down my neck and soaked into my top—not that it mattered: my jeans were already soaking wet from my crying and my tears showed no sign of letting up.

‘You bumped your head and I think you might have concussion.’ She wrapped her hands over mine, still clinging onto the mug, then held it to my lips. Tipping it carefully, she poured some of the contents into my mouth a drop at a time while the man, her husband I guess—and the chef too, since he was wearing chef whites and a food-splattered apron—busied himself gathering up the scattered flyers and menus, arranging them in neat little piles. ‘Your friend will be here soon,’ she added.

My friend? Did she mean Jake?

Omigod, no way
.

Would I class Jake as a friend? He’d always just kind of been there.

I let her carry on feeding me with the hot sweet tea while I thought about it some more, but then the bell above the door did its little tinkly thing again. We all jumped—I think I screamed, too—and the mug crashed onto the floor with the dregs seeping into the seat my jeans. Wind whipped through the open doorway and scattered the tidied piles everywhere again.

Goosebumps erupted over my skin, although I don’t think that had much to do with the cold draft, because my had heart stopped, too. What if the two men had come back for me? What if it was some kind of test to see if I recognised one or both of them? The sickening thing was, they could probably pass me in the street on the way into work tomorrow and I’d be none the wiser. Then where would my oh-so-precious virginity get me?

Hayden suddenly didn’t seem such a bad candidate any more. I wouldn’t be in this mess at all if I’d just gone back to the after-show party with them. At least sex with him wouldn’t have been against my will. All out of adrenaline and too sleepy to move, I drew my legs up to my chest and made myself as small as I could. I pulled the blanket over my head and hid, my shakes finding another gear to shift into until it hurt to even breathe.

An arm slipped around my shoulders, giving me a shot of courage to risk a peek from beneath the blanket, only to find the chef standing directly in front of me, shielding me from view. All I could see of the new arrival was a pair of legs in dark-grey sweats—or lounge-pants as my dad called them—and scuffed once-white trainers. The figure came further into the room, and my self-appointed sentinels blocked his path as if they were doing some dodgy dance.

‘OK … umm … hi,’ said a confused, and slightly bemused-sounding voice. A voice I instantly recognised with its low, gentle lilt with just a hint of steely determination. ‘I’m here to collect Lena. Where is she, please?’

The lady must have felt me relax and asked, ‘Are you Jake?’

‘Yes, I am,’ Jake replied, sounding scarily grown-up. ‘And you must be the lady I spoke to before?’

‘Very good,’ she said.

Her words worked as effectively as ‘open sesame’ and my guard stepped aside. Jake peered around him, trying to seek me out, searching left and right before zooming in on the huddle that was me on the floor. Still half hidden beneath the blanket, I hadn’t really given any thought to what I must look like from the outside until that particular moment. It must have been proper car-crash viewing judging from Jake’s reaction. His face took on an
Oh My God
expression, complete with dropping jaw, unable to tear his wide-eyed gaze off me.

‘What the fu— I mean, what happened to you? Have you been …?’ His voice tailed off. I couldn’t let him carry on thinking the worst and just about managed to shake my head. ‘Thank God for that.’

An intoxicating mix of relief and embarrassment proved more than enough to set off my giggle sobs all over again. Jake joined us on the floor, sitting beside me so I was now sandwiched between him and the nice lady, whose name I still didn’t know. Together they helped me to drag the blanket back from over my head, my muscles protesting at the movement.

For the next few minutes, the only sound was my … I didn’t really know what to call it but ‘hysterics’ probably worked best. Nobody said anything, leaving me to get on with it, get it out of my system, I guess. When my fit of whatever-the-hell-they-were finally finished, the lady got up and moved away, leaving a chill down the entire left side of my body.

‘You are our guests,’ she said, looking down at me and Jake. ‘Please stay as long as you require.’ Jake and I watched as she crossed the shop floor, flipping the sign over on the door to read CLOSED. She released the latch with a satisfying clunk, locking us all in, then turned back to face us. ‘We will be out back, but please call for us if you need anything.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Jake on my behalf when I said nothing, and then it was just the two of us.

His arm replaced hers around my shoulders and I leaned into him, my head resting against him as he reached his other arm across the front to hold me in place. We sat like that for a while, in complete silence, his head resting gently against the top of mine. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothed me, his chest rising and falling with each breath, and I began to relax. So much so, a deep sigh escaped my lungs.

‘Hey, no going to sleep, d’you hear?’

A grunt was the best response I could muster. It was all well and good being told not to go to sleep, but not so easy to put into practice when I felt as if I’d gone ten rounds with Nicola Adams and Amir Khan.

‘I could get used to this mute version, you know. Just think how much quieter the house would be, especially if it rubs off on Gemma, too.’

‘Hmph!’ I tried to shrug his arm off and sit up under my own steam, but my snappy retort turned into more of a hiss and I collapsed back onto him.

‘Christ, Lena! Are you hurt?’

Too busy biting back a yelp and in no fit state to try moving anything else, I just about tilted my head to look up at him and blinked twice.

‘Where?’ Jake had flicked into efficient first-aider mode, so I knew he’d seen the flash of panic in my eyes, which were now filling up with yet more tears. ‘Or should I be asking you what
doesn’t
hurt?’

Despite the aches and pains, the corners of my mouth turned upwards for the first time in forever. OK, slight exaggeration, but it could be ten-thirty or midnight for all I knew—I’d lost all track of time.

Jake grinned in return. ‘At least your smile isn’t broken, but can I check the rest of you? Make sure there’s nothing serious before I try and move you?’

He took my lack of grunt as a green light, and propped me back up against the counter in order to take up position in front of me. For someone with such large hands, he had a surprisingly light touch as he reached first for my right leg, then my left, until they were both extended. Starting with my right foot, he eased off my shoe and began a very thorough examination, noting every wince and sharp intake of breath as if cataloguing them.

Next was my upper body, and I wasn’t altogether sure how I felt about that. I just had to keep reminding myself that it was only Jake. It worked though, I didn’t resist when he brought me back against his warm, hoody-covered chest. He lifted the blanket off me altogether and let it fall to the floor, then examined my shoulders and back. When he reached my head, I’d slipped into some kind of daze-like trance, a bit like the time mum had let me go with her for a massage.

‘Aside from a possible sprained ankle and the whopping great bump on the back of your head, I can’t find any major damage.’ Jake’s voice woke me up again, and brought me back to my painful reality. ‘You’re going to be covered in bruises for a while, though,’ he said, leaning me back against the counter. ‘Do you want to try walking? Standing, even?’

‘Umm … I guess.’
Hallelujah!
My mouth seemed to be working again, even if no other part of my body was willing to try. ‘Can I put my socks and shoes back on first?’

‘Not yet. I need to check out that ankle first.’

‘Right. Here goes, then.’ I planted my bare feet on the cold floor, forced to stifle a groan as I did the same with my hands, all the while trying not to grind my teeth or show too much discomfort.