‘Can I ask you something else?’ said Lola. ‘How are you going to feel when Dougie refuses to ever speak to you again?’
And, heroically resisting the urge to tear open the parcel of chips and fling them in Dougie’s mother’s face, she climbed out of the car.
Back at home in Streatham — a far more modest house than Dougie’s, which his mother would surely sneer at — Lola paced the small blue and white living room like a caged animal and went over everything that had happened. OK, now what was she supposed to do? Dougie was currently up in Edinburgh for a few days, sorting out where he was going to be living come October and acquainting himself with the city that was due to be his home for the next three years. Doubtless Mrs Tennant had planned it this way with her usual meticulous attention to detail. Her own mother and stepfather were both out at work.The ticking of the clock in the kitchen was driving her demented. Bloody, bloody woman — how dare she do this to her? What a witch.
By four o’clock she could no longer bear to be confined. Deliberately not changing out of her low-cut top and far-too-shortdenim skirt, Lola left the house. What she was wearing was practically standard issue for teenagers on a hot summer’s day, for heaven’s sake — not tarty at all. And if she didn’t talk to someone about the situation, she would burst.
’Ten thousand pounds,’ said Jeannie.
‘Yes.’
‘I mean, ten thousand pounds.’
‘So?’ Lola banged down her Coke. ‘It doesn’t matter how much it is. She can’t go around doing stuff like that. It’s just sick.’
They were in McDonald’s. Jeannie noisily slurped her own Coke through two straws. ‘Can I say something?’
‘Can I stop you?’
‘OK, you say it’s a sick thing to do. And you’re going to say no. But what if Dougie comes back from Edinburgh on Friday and tells you he’s met someone else? What if he sits you down and says, "Look, sorry and all that, but I bumped into this really fit girl in a bar, we ended up in bed and she’s just fantastic"?’ Pausing to suck up the last dregs of her Coke, Jeannie pointed the straw at Lola. ‘What if he tells you you’re dumped?’
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
‘Dougie wouldn’t do that.’
‘He might.’
‘He wouldn’t.’
‘But he might,’ said Jeannie. ‘OK, maybe not this week, or even this month. But sooner or later the chances are that you two will break up. You’re seventeen years old. How many seventeen-year-olds spend the rest of their lives with their first love? Let’s face it, that’s why it’s called first love, because you go on to have loads more. You’re too young to stay with the same person, Lola. And so’s Dougie. I know you’re crazy about each other now, but that’s not going to last.
And if Dougie is the one who finishes it, you can’t go running to his mother crying that you’ve changed your mind and can you have the money now please? Because it’ll be too late by then.You’ll have lost out big time. Think about it, you’ll be all on your own.’ Mock sorrowfully, Jeannie clutched her chest. ‘Heartbroken. No more Dougie Tennant and no ten thousand pounds.’
So that was the advice from a so-called friend. Well, what else should she have expected from someone like Jeannie, whose parents had fought an epic divorce battle and left her with a jaundiced view of relationships? Jeannie now despised her mother’s new husband and was escaping all the hassle at home by moving to Majorca. The plan was to work in a bar, dance on the beach and generally have the time of her life. Sleep with lots of men but very definitely not get emotionally involved with any of them. Any kind of romantic relationship was out.
The memory of Dougie’s mother continued to haunt Lola all the way home, that pale patrician face and disparaging voice letting her know in no uncertain terms why she was nowhere near good enough for her precious son.
Lola pictured the smirk on that face ifJeannie’s cheery prediction were to come true. Then again, imagine how she’d react if she and Dougie defied her and got married! Ha, wouldn’t that be fabulous?
Except ... except .. .
I’m seventeen, I don’t want to get married just to spite someone. I’m too young.
Back home again, Lola was overcome by an overwhelmingurge to speak to Dougie. No plan in her head, but she’d play it by ear. When she heard his voice she would decide what to do, whether or not to tell him that his mother was the world’s biggest witch. God, how would he feel when he found out?
Dougie was staying in a bed and breakfast in Edinburgh. The number was on the pad next to the phone in the narrow hallway. Dialling it, Lola checked her watch; it was five o’clock. He should be there now, back from his visit to the university campus .. .
‘No, dear, I’m afraid you’ve missed him: The landlady of the B&B had a kindly, Edinburgh-accented voice. ‘They came back an hour ago, Dougie changed and showered and thén they were off. Said they were going to check out the pubs on Rose Street!’
‘Oh.’ Lola’s heart sank; she’d so wanted to hear his voice. ‘Who was he with?’
‘I didn’t catch their names, pet. Another boy and two girls .. . isn’t it lovely to see him making new friends already? The boy’s from Manchester and the pretty blonde one’s from Abergavenny! I must say, they do seem absolutely charming. I’ll tell him you rang, shall I?
Although goodness knows what time he’ll be back ...’
Hanging up, Lola heard Jeannie’s words again. It wasn’t that she was overwhelmed with jealousy that Dougie had gone out for the evening with a group of new friends, two of whom happened to be female. It was just the realisation that this was the first of many hundreds of nights when she would be apart from him and Lola started as a floorboard creaked overhead; she’d thought the house was empty.
She called out, ‘Hello?’
No reply.
‘Mum?’ Lola frowned. ‘Dad?’
Still nothing. Had the floorboard just creaked on its own or was someone up there? But the house seemed secure and a burglar would have his work cut out, climbing in through a bedroom window. Taking an umbrella as a precaution, Lola made her way upstairs.
What she saw when she pushed open the white painted door of her parents’ bedroom shocked her to the core.
Chapter 2
’Dad?’ Lola’s stomach clenched in fear. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. Her stepfather
— the only father she’d ever known, the man she loved with all her heart — was packing a case, his face almost unrecognisable.
‘Go downstairs.’ He turned his back on her, barely able to speak.
Lola was shaking. ‘Dad, what is it?’
‘Please, just leave me alone.’
‘No! I won’t! Tell me what’s wrong.’ Dropping the umbrella, she cried, ‘Why are you packing?
Are you ill? Are you going to hospital? Is it cancer?’
Grief-stricken, he shook his head. ‘I’m not ill, not in that way. Lola, this is nothing to do with you ... I didn’t want you to see me like this . .
It was such an unimaginable situation that Lola didn’t know what to think. When she approached him he made a feeble attempt to fend her off with one arm.
‘Daddy, tell me,’ Lola whispered in desperation and tears sprang into his eyes.
Covering his face, he sank onto the bed. ‘Oh Lola, I’m sorry’
She had never been so frightened in her life. ‘I’m going to phone Mum.’
‘No, you mustn’t.’
‘Are you having an affair? Is that why you’re packing? Don’t you want to live with us any more?’
Another shake of the head. ‘It’s nothing like that.’