The Booby Trap and Other Bits and Boobs (10 page)

‘I hope this doesn't sound sketchy, but I've got something for you,' he said nervously, reaching into the inner depths of his anorak while Rosie looked intrigued but nervous, because Cardigan Boy was coming over all stalker-y. ‘I saw you reading
Bonjour Tristesse
, and then the other day I found this in a charity shop.You've probably already got it, but the cover's really cool.'

He pulled out a mouldy paperback, its pages tinged yellow. Rosie took it and turned it over carefully like it was some holy relic, as I squinted over her shoulder to see the book title:
To Esme, With Love And Squalor.
What
ever
. But Rosie's face lit up and in that split second she was so beautiful that it made me blink rapidly until she looked like she usually did.

‘That's so weird, this is on my to-buy list,' she said. ‘And I love old editions of books. If I really like the book, it makes me kinda sad that they gave it away. Do you know what I mean?'

Cardigan Boy knew exactly what she meant. ‘I have this hardback of
The Collectible Dorothy Parker
from the 1940s that I found in Cancer Research. Why would someone get rid of that?'

It was all very well bonding over books but they still weren't getting the basics sorted. Not unless I did it for them. ‘I'm Cath, this is Rosie and you are … ?'

‘David,' Cardigan Boy said. ‘Never Dave or Davy or Id.'

And Rosie totally laughed, even though it was the lamest joke I'd ever heard. It was adorable in the dorkiest, geekiest way possible.

How was I going to get Rosie and David away from ice cream and on an actual date? I needed to try to fathom out the geek mindset but, God, that was so hard. Then on Tuesday Rosie was banging on about her latest boring book while I was flicking through the local paper and I had such a genius idea that I almost fell headfirst into the strawberry ice cream that I'd left out on the counter to soften.

When David finally came in, I elbowed Rosie out of the way, so I could get to him first. We went through the usual sundae business while he cast longing glances in Rosie's direction, then I moved in for the kill.

‘Hey, have you ever read
The Great Gatsby
?' It was a perfectly natural question for me to ask so there was no need for him to smirk.

‘It's one of my favourite books,' he replied and Rosie opened her mouth to start wordgasming about it too but I rustled the paper as a diversionary tactic.

‘You know they made a non-musical film of it ages ago, right? It's playing at the Rep Cinema tonight.'

‘I've always wanted to see it,' David enthused, walking into the clever trap I'd set and making himself right at home.

‘Really?' I smiled sweetly at Rosie whose eyes were promising a little light torture. ‘Rosie's dying to see it too but she hasn't got anyone to go with. I refuse to watch any film that wasn't made this century.'

If David paused for longer than five seconds I was going to brain him with a box of Cornettos, but he was already turning to Rosie with a casual smile that I knew masked the fear of rejection. ‘You probably already have plans, but if you fancy going with me … ?' He tailed off and stared down at his Jack Purcells. Which was just as well because Rosie was doing a good impression of a slack-jawed yokel.

‘Um, if you don't mind, I guess that would be er, like all right,' she muttered.

‘No, I don't mind. If you're sure you don't … '

It was like watching some nature show on the Discovery Channel about the mating habits of geeks. Watching two bears clawing each other into bloody shreds would have been less painful. ‘Jesus!' I snapped, pushing his sundae at him. ‘Come and pick her up after work. Six sharp so you've got time to get the tickets. Now go away. We might have some other customers in a minute.'

As soon as he was out of the door, Rosie turned on me furiously. ‘You're absolutely unbelievable, Cath,' she began, her face flushing. ‘You pimped me! He was obviously just being polite because you forced him into … '

‘You're welcome,' I said when she had to pause for oxygen. ‘If I were you I'd start doing your make-up because you're still crap at applying liquid eyeliner.'

‘He paid extra for the superior comfort seats,' Rosie told me the next day, as we shivered behind the counter. It wasn't actually that cold but the rain was thudding against the window and it felt like we should shiver. ‘And then we shared a tub of popcorn and he squeezed my arm in a really sad part of the movie, but it wasn't in a lecherous way. It was a very empathetic squeeze.'

‘And then what happened?' I prompted, eyes wide.

‘We went for a coffee and talked about the movie and Scott Fitzgerald's other books, and loads of things and then he walked me home,' Rosie finished with a smile that was verging on smug.

‘And did he kiss you? Like, with tongues?' It came to something when I had to get vicarious snogging thrills from Rosie.

‘Maybe he did, maybe he didn't,' she said coyly. ‘But I'm seeing him tonight. We're going to a gig. You should come,' she offered, because she was a sweet but totally naïve girl who thought it was polite to invite friends along on dates.

‘Nah, you're OK,' I shrugged. ‘The music you like hurts when you listen to it.'

‘Some of David's friends are going to be there.' Rosie's face squinched up. ‘Maybe they won't like me. They're all at university or art school and they'll think that I'm fat … '

‘You are not fat,' I interrupted angrily because at least she didn't go straight up and down like me. ‘You're curvy. Big diff. And you're really smart and funny and you should stop judging yourself about what you think you look like. It's pathetic. And don't you forget it.'

Rosie didn't forget it. Maybe that's why she was a such big hit with David's friends. She even went bowling with them later in the week, then turned up for work in this old-fashioned dress that hugged her curves like she'd just stepped down from one of those 1950s pin-up girl pictures. Her boobs were still mighty but it was like she'd grown into them.

‘David's friend Kara gave me this,' she said, twirling so I could see how the circle skirt foofed out. ‘She said I had the perfect figure for vintage clothes.'

I was happy for her. Really I was. That's why I folded my arms and pouted. ‘You could get something in H&M that's practically identical,' I noted savagely. ‘And no one would have died in it.'

Rosie's face fell and I felt like a bitch for raining all over her vintage parade, but I could tell she was leaving me behind and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

We still hung out at work but it wasn't the same. Rosie was kicking it freestyle these days and now that I had nothing left to teach her, there wasn't really a lot to talk about.

So it was a huge relief when it stopped raining and the sun came out. Big Don dragged the Mr Whippy machine outside to take advantage of the daytrippers and I volunteered to man it. I couldn't quite master the necessary twirling action but I really needed to start on my tan and scope out the talent.

The sunshine had made the boys emerge from wherever they'd been hiding and I remembered what summer was meant to be about. I'd lost too much time for sticky kisses and holding hands with out-of-towners. I needed to think about who'd still be around in September when everyone at school was bragging about Pedro the cabana boy and François the deckchair salesman. If I had a boy in the bank, so to speak, rather than living off memories, then I wouldn't need any sympathetic looks because newly one-parent families couldn't afford luxuries like package holidays to Corfu.

First I considered Jimmy from the Waltzers because he was really fit, but he had dirty fingernails and everyone knew he'd done really gross stuff with a girl from the doughnut stall under the pier. Loz from the Ghost Train always winked at me when he came to beg for change, but he had a zitty back and he spent off-season in a spliff haze. I needed a boy who was way more thrusting and dynamic.

Eventually I settled on Kieran from the bumper cars because he played football for the local club's youth team, drove a black Jeep, and when he sauntered bare-chested along the pier with a cocky smile, his muscles rippled and it was like having a religious vision. He was perfect for me.

I pulled out every single weapon in my arsenal. I went two shades lighter on the blonde scale, fashioned my T-shirt into a bandeau to show more skin and smiled flirtatiously every time he walked past. Nothing seemed to work, and the skanks from the café opposite had set up a tea stall outside the front door and weren't above whistling at him. I could have been invisible for all the notice Kieran took of me.

Summer was limping to a halt and I could feel the weight of going back to school already crushing down on me. I needed a Plan B on the boy front, I thought as I served up 99 after 99. And as soon as I thought it, a voice in my ear roughly enquired, ‘You all right, then?'

It was Kieran. I mean, of course it was Kieran, and all of him was twinkling at me: his eyes, his smile, the bleached tips of his spiky hair. I stuck out my chest and fluttered my eyelashes. ‘Yeah,' I said, staring at his mouth. ‘You all right?'

‘You're Cath, right?' Kieran asked and I forgot the impatient queue of customers and the girls from the café trying to kill me with their collective dirty looks. Because Kieran was all there was and his eyes were running up my legs, over my tummy, lingering slightly at the boobs then coming to rest on my mouth as I poked my tongue slightly between my lips like I was deep in thought.

‘Yeah,' I said after about five seconds. ‘And you're Kieran. Your cousin knows my mate, Jules.'

‘So, like, do you want to go to the Pier Summer Party with me on Friday?'

I had to stop myself from squealing because we were so
on.
Every summer, the business owners who rented space on the pier held a party for their under-paid, over-worked summer staff. It was at some cheesy club in town but it was just about the most exciting event of the season. And Kieran wanted to walk in with me in full view of those jealous ho-bags from the café who'd taken to shouting rude remarks at me in their quiet periods. Result!

‘Sure, that sounds cool,' I said casually as Kieran asked for my number. And it was that easy to get the guy you fancied – if you weren't Rosie.

I was in torment most of Friday as I tried to dish up ice cream and beautify myself. There was a hairy moment when I spilled a glob of body shimmer in the chocolate chip but I smooshed it around with a scoop and I don't think anyone noticed. Well, only Rosie and she didn't count.

Once we'd finally closed and I was carefully applying glittery eye-shadow, I saw her mardy reflection in my compact. ‘Rosie, you are going to this party, right?' I asked suddenly, because I hadn't thought to check.

‘Why would I willingly spend time in a room full of people I'd normally cross the road to avoid?' Rosie said, though a simple ‘no' would have done. ‘It's not my scene.'

‘But you have to come!' I yelped, closing my compact with a snap and fiddling with the neckline of my dress so it didn't dip down low enough to reveal my darkest secrets. ‘Is David going?'

‘It's not his scene either,' Rosie sniffed, like they were too good to get down and dance to songs that had an actual tune. ‘Anyway, you're going with Kieran, so what's the problem?'

How could Rosie not know this stuff? ‘Because I don't want him to think I'm some friendless loser who spends the entire night clinging to him,' I all but wailed. ‘Look, just come for a couple of hours.'

‘I can't,' Rosie said firmly. I'd preferred her when she'd been a total pushover and had no social life to interfere with my plans. ‘We're going to see a band and we have to catch a train and –'

‘God, I can't believe you're one of those girls who dumps your mates as soon as you get a boyfriend,' I burst out. ‘You wouldn't even have hooked up with him if it hadn't been for me.'

‘That's not fair,' Rosie protested, her voice throbbing like she was getting teary. But she was still picking up her bag like she intended to abandon me. ‘That's a really unkind thing to say, Cath.'

I was about to say a lot more really unkind things when there was a tap on the window and I whirled around to see Kieran raise a hand and shoot me one of those wolfish smiles, which made my knees shake. ‘Oh, why don't you just go home and read one of your mouldy books,' I hissed. ‘That's the closest you'll ever come to having a life.'

‘I can't believe that I actually thought you were my friend,' Rosie choked as she hurried to the door and almost knocked Kieran off his feet. And he could take his eyes off her tits too.

‘We were never friends,' I stated clearly. ‘I just felt sorry for you.' And before Rosie could put a complete damper on the evening and to get Kieran's attention away from her scene-stealing mammaries, I dragged him down for a long, tongue-y kiss until she was just a fat, round blob in the distance.

The party was fantastic. When I walked in with Kieran, everyone turned to look at us like we were this golden couple or something. I kept a tight hold of Kieran's hand and maybe it was that and the kiss we'd had before that made him so, like, demonstrative.

‘You're so hot, Cath,' he kept saying, while rubbing his hand against whatever part of my body was nearest. ‘You're the fittest girl here.'

Technically I wasn't, because Lizzie who worked on the rock stall had got through to the semi-finals of this TV modelling competition, but whatever. Kieran was totally acting like we were officially dating and kept the Barcardi Breezers coming. And he only let me leave his side to go to the loos, where I adjusted the fillets and applied more body shimmer to give me the illusion of cleavage. When I got back to the bar, Kieran was hemmed in on all sides by those cows from the café. I staggered over so I could simultaneously wrap myself around Kieran and shoot death stares at them.