The Girl With No Past (9 page)

And then she surprises us all.

‘Come back here. Now.’ It isn’t quite a shout, but is louder than I have heard her speak before.

Scanning the room, I see most of the class is open-mouthed, staring at Miss Hollis. I’m not even sure who she’s talking to, but then she turns to the new boy who frowns and shrugs, but makes no move to give up his seat.

Miss Hollis stands firm. ‘I didn’t say you could sit there, you need to wait for me to tell you where to sit.’ This is unheard of. She is challenging a student. In all the years she has been my form tutor she has never spoken like this to anyone. It must be her time of the month.

All eyes turn to Adam Bowden. ‘I’d like to stay here, Miss,’ he says, as if it is his right. He speaks politely but the smirk behind his words betrays his true intention. I normally dislike challenging behaviour, but there is something different about Adam. He is too confident to be just another dumb idiot, using bad behaviour to disguise academic weakness. Again I am impressed.

‘Get out!’ Miss Hollis screams. ‘Now! Get out!’

For a moment, Adam looks stunned, but he quickly recovers and breezes out, not looking at anyone he passes, the way he did just a moment ago. But no matter how surprised he is, it is nothing compared to the bemusement I – and the rest of the class, I am sure – feel witnessing Miss Hollis shout like this. She may as well have transformed into a dragon and breathed fire because that’s how we all stare at her until she goes out to deal with Adam Bowden. Even when she has followed him out into the corridor, closing the door behind her, nobody dares speak above a whisper.

I don’t see the new boy for the rest of the morning, but at lunchtime he is all Imogen, Corey and I can talk about. We sit on the steps of the art block, shivering because we don’t want to go to the canteen or put on our blazers. Lunchtime is the only time we have a reprieve from wearing them so we can’t miss an opportunity to shed our shackles, no matter what the weather.

‘He was in my history class this morning,’ Corey tells us. ‘But Miss Hollis wasn’t being weird to him so they must have sorted it out.’

‘She’s not allowed to be weird to any of us, she’s a teacher,’ I say, biting into my cheese baguette. ‘Anyway, you should have seen it, she humiliated him in front of the whole class. On his first day!’ Now that I’ve had the morning to think about it, I am sure that’s what happened. Humiliation. Nothing more, nothing less. I would have been mortified if it had been me, but Adam Bowden had handled it well.

Imogen nudges Corey. ‘So you sat next to him? What’s he like?’ I’m glad she is the one asking these questions. If I had to ask them myself they would both know how I feel. Or think I feel.

‘He’s okay, I like him. Clever, I guess. Why?’ Corey shoots Imogen a glance that I can only interpret as asserting his ownership, or something not quite so dramatic but meaning more or less the same.

‘I dunno, he just seems cool. But not like that.’ Imogen grabs Corey’s arm and keeps hold of him while she eats her crisps.

I watch them both, finding it hard to believe so much has progressed between them over the weekend. But I don’t feel envious, at least not in a substantial way, because Imogen and Corey are my closest friends. Besides, there is hope on the horizon in the form of Adam Bowden. I repeat his name in my head and it sounds good, as if it fits me somehow. And he smiled at me, didn’t he? Or did I imagine it? I can’t be sure now, but after consideration I tell myself he definitely did.

I wish Imogen and I were alone now so I can share my thoughts with her. There is no way I can say anything in front of Corey; other things, yes, but not stuff about boys. Particularly one he sat next to in history. But I decide I will call her later. This is too important not to share at the earliest opportunity.

The three of us are so engrossed in our conversation that by the time I look at my watch, there are only four minutes left before the bell is due to ring. I have English next and there is no way I can be late so, jumping up, I shout something about catching them later and rush off, every second swearing I can hear the bell. Today we are due to finish
Of Mice and Men
. It’s my favourite book so far, but I suspect things will not end well for George and Lennie. I think how amazing it is that one writer can control the destiny of all their characters, as if they are God. Perhaps I will write a novel one day, and enjoy the unfolding of lives from my mind.

Being so engrossed in this idea, I collide into someone outside the English block with a heavy thwack. Stunned, I quickly look up to apologise to whomever I’ve smacked into. But when I see who it is, the words drop from my mouth.

Adam Bowden.

My insides burn as I struggle to say sorry, but then it is too late because he is saying it for me. Was it his fault? I am sure I was the one who barged into him, but there he is, apologising profusely and asking if I am okay.

‘I’m fine,’ I manage to say. ‘Thanks. Sorry.’ He pats my shoulder and even when he removes his hand I can still feel the weight of it.

‘You were in my form group this morning, weren’t you?’

I nod. ‘Yeah, sorry about what happened. Miss Hollis is a right fruitcake.’

Adam smiles. ‘Yeah, I’ve heard she never talks above a whisper so don’t know what the hell happened this morning. She must hate me.’ He shrugs his shoulders as he says this, obviously not caring one way or the other. ‘So what’s this one like?’

‘Mrs Owen? Oh, she’s nice. Strict but nice.’

Adam nods, but there is no way to tell what he is thinking. I wonder what impression he has of me. Isn’t it a good sign that he is here talking to me now, when the bell is about to go and the rest of the class are already lined up inside? But then again, that doesn’t necessarily mean much. Adam doesn’t seem one for sticking religiously to school rules.

‘We’d better get in,’ I say, just as the bell pierces the air and there is a flurry of activity from latecomers.

‘If you say so,’ he says. But when I look up at him, not sure how to take his comment, he is smiling. I can’t explain what I feel at that moment, I only know I have been waiting to feel it for a long time.

NINE

Four days passed and there was no reply to my email. I didn’t know whether I was relieved or disappointed, but tried to tell myself my lack of fear had worked. That I had confused the emailer so much that he or she had decided to back off. Perhaps my computer hadn’t been hacked after all. I had taken the words to be about Julian, but it was possible this person knew I was single and assumed I wanted someone in my life.

I shrugged off the thought that this was too easy, that whoever it was had an agenda and wasn’t likely to give up on it just because I’d responded in an unexpected way. But still, four days was long enough for me to convince myself it might be over.

On the other hand, I hadn’t heard from Julian either, and this puzzled me. He had been the one to send me the last message, and all I’d done was respond to it, saying I’d be online the next evening, but we had missed each other. Still, I couldn’t fathom why he hadn’t at least left a message and why all was now silent on his end. There were, of course, a number of harmless explanations for his lack of response: a work trip, holiday, parents struck down by illness. Any one of these was plausible, so I convinced myself it would be okay. He would respond when he could.

I went back to work and everything felt normal again. Maria seemed pleased to see me and continued to fuss, checking I was okay at regular intervals. I assured her I was fine, and felt grateful that if I’d upset her that night at my flat she had obviously put it behind her.

It didn’t take long to bury myself in work and forget the outside world existed. During my break, I sat in the coffee room with some hot water and lemon because, ironically, I had started to notice the telltale signs of an impending cold.

My back faced the door and I was so engrossed in
The Catcher in the Rye
that I didn’t realise Sam had come in until she coughed to get my attention. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said, closing the door and walking towards me. ‘Can we have a quick chat?’

My first thought was that she had uncovered my lie about being sick. But how? Even if Maria had suspected I was being dishonest I was certain she wouldn’t say anything to Sam. And even if she had there was no evidence. But there was no other reason I could think of for Sam wanting to talk to me on our own with the door closed. Unless a customer had made a complaint about me.

‘You’ve been at the library a long time now, Leah, haven’t you?’ Sam began, and I held my breath, waiting for her to get to the point. ‘Well, something’s come up that I wanted to discuss with you.’

‘Okay, of course. What is it?’ I tried to sound upbeat but she was trying to get rid of me, I was certain. There was nothing else it could be. I couldn’t lose my job. It was the one thing that kept me going. The thought of not working there made me feel faint; it wasn’t just a job to me, it was my life.

‘A position has come up for a senior librarian and I think you’d be perfect for it. It would mean a lot more responsibility, but nothing you couldn’t handle. What do you think?’

It took me a moment to digest Sam’s words, but when I did I wanted to hug her. Not only was my job safe but she was talking about promotion. Before that point, I’d given no thought to my career or future, I was just living day to day, getting through each one as best I could. But now this. I couldn’t speak for a moment but when I recovered all I could say was, ‘Yes, I’d love that. Great. Thanks.’

Sam chuckled. ‘Of course there will have to be an interview, but that’s just a formality. I’ve got to have all the correct paperwork.’

‘That’s fine,’ I said, still not believing what I was hearing. Things like this didn’t happen to me. And then something occurred to me, plummeting me back to the ground. ‘What about Maria? I know she’s only been here a few months but she worked in a library for years before she came here, didn’t she?’

Sam bit her lip. ‘Let’s just say I don’t think Maria has the commitment you do. But that goes no further than this room. Anyway, she’s welcome to apply. It’s fair and open competition, after all. Just don’t forget to fill out an application form, I’ll email it to you this afternoon.’ And then she breezed out, leaving me questioning again whether I’d invented the entire conversation.

As I walked back to the front desk, I could see Maria deep in conversation with a man in a black jacket. I couldn’t tell who he was but there was something familiar about him.

‘There she is,’ Maria said, pointing at me as I got closer. The man turned as she said this and I realised it was Ben, the man who’d donated so many books to us the week before. I hoped there wasn’t a problem. Perhaps he had changed his mind about the donation? That would be awkward; the books were already logged in the system and some of them were out on loan so there was no way he could have them back.

But as I got closer, the huge smile on his face assured me this couldn’t be the case.

‘Hi,’ he said, holding up a large carrier bag. ‘Found these when I was unpacking.’

I took a closer look and saw the bag was bulging with books. Again, I was torn between gratitude for Ben’s donation and annoyance that he could so flippantly part with something so important.

I thanked him, turning away from Maria’s raised eyebrows.

‘I’ll take my break now, Leah,’ she said, patting my arm. ‘You can look after this gentleman, can’t you?’ It was obvious to me what Maria was insinuating and I only hoped Ben hadn’t picked up on it. All the poor man had done was mention me, and that was only because I’d been here the last time he came in.

Thankfully, he was busy shuffling through his bag. ‘I’ve got some DVDs too, if they’re any good?’ he asked, as Maria walked off, turning back for one last look.

I told him it all helped, but was distracted by Maria’s silent assumptions. I needed Ben to leave quickly. He was nice enough, but I didn’t want Maria trying to match me up with anyone.

We talked as I unpacked the bag – one of those huge Sainsbury’s bags for life – and he told me he had a cat to rescue in a flat on Garratt Lane. The tenants had gone on holiday and left it locked inside so he was waiting for the landlord to turn up with the keys. I liked the passion that emanated from him as he talked about some of the animals he’d rescued. I got so caught up in his stories that I didn’t notice the queue forming behind him until someone coughed loudly, just as Sam had done earlier.

‘Oh, I’d better let you get on,’ Ben said, standing aside. ‘What time do you have lunch?’

I was taken aback by his question. ‘Um, one ish, why?’

‘Let me take you for a coffee and sandwich to say thanks.’

Behind him, the man who had coughed sighed and tapped the book he was holding. I ignored him because the words
no
way
screamed in my head, but then something occurred to me. I could use the hour with Ben as practice. If I was ever to have the courage to meet up with Julian then I needed more experience being around men. I couldn’t see this happening, wasn’t even sure Julian would want it to, but what was the harm in familiarising myself with male company? With other people in the queue starting to tut, I didn’t have time for an internal debate. I told Ben that would be fine. No song and dance, just fine.