A Hope Christmas Love Story (2 page)

***

I hadn’t seen Melanie till the last minute. I’d been late leaving because Izzy, my sixteen year old sister was being stroppy. She didn’t want to go to school again, so I’d physically had to make her, shouting at her all the way.

It’s partly Izzy’s fault that I’m here, resitting Year 13. Most of last year was spent chasing her up, making sure she was in school, and driving round Shrewsbury late at night to keep her out of trouble. I don’t blame her. She’s found Mum and Dad splitting up even harder than I have. She’s such a Daddy’s girl, and Daddy, quite frankly, has behaved like a shit.

In fact, both our parents have. They’ve always been spectacularly selfish, but once the divorce came through it felt like they couldn’t wait to get shot of us. Mum moved straight in with her new partner, and got pregnant pretty much straight away, while Dad stayed for a little bit. But you could tell he was furious with Mum, for jumping ship first. As soon as he could, he was off with his new partner and her adorable cute little kids who are much easier to deal with than a difficult teenage daughter and grumpy son. It feels like we don’t exist anymore.

Sure, they give us money, and we get to stay in the house, and be totally independent. I know lots of kids who envy me for that. But it’s not great, not really. Not when you have a shitty day at school, and you want some advice and your parents aren’t there to give it to you. Or you get home from college and discover the washing machine is on the blink and you have no clean clothes, and you’ve forgotten to go shopping so you have get takeaway pizza again.

They’re very generous, I’ll give them that. We never want for anything material. But what kind of parents abandon their children in the middle of exam year? It’s rubbish and Izzy isn’t dealing with it too well.

Anyway, that’s why I’m so late and preoccupied I don’t see Melanie till the last minute, so we end up in a rather embarrassed, tangled mess on the floor. Oh god, it would be her. She must think I’m a complete twat.

“I am so sorry,” I say, helping her up. “I don’t know how that happened.”

“Me neither,” she says, giving me a quick shy and completely endearing smile, and gathering up her books and pens. “It’s just as much my fault as it is yours.”

As we sort ourselves out, we register that we are now fifteen minutes late, the magic number after which the college will ring our parents if we’re late too often. Not that my parents would give a damn about that. And I’m eighteen anyway, so I as far as I’m concerned so long as I show up and do the work it doesn’t matter what time I roll up. After such a disrupted year last year, studying and getting it right is all I care about.

We slink into class to the inevitable sardonic, “Nice of you to join us, Miss Carpenter, Mr Harris,” from Tom, our tutor, and knowing grins from the rest of the class. I’m cringing so much I daren’t look at Melanie. After two weeks hereI’ve taken an instant dislike to Tom. It seems I’m not alone. He’s not very popular, judging by the brief chats I’ve had with people in the coffee bar.

My dislike of Tom has intensified by the end of the lesson, as he spends the whole of it trying to catch Melanie out. He seems to have a real down on her, I don’t know why, as she’s so clearly star pupil material. She certainly seems to know more about
The Bell Jar
than anyone else in the class. I’m baffled by the way he treats her, but Melanie just shrugs her shoulders when I ask her about it.

“He hates me being late,” she says, “but Monday mornings, you know what they’re like.”

I do know what they were like. But I doubt Melanie has a clue how hard it is to get yourself, and your sister out of the house on time, and run a home. I don’t think anyone knows what that’s like. Least of all, Tom.

I tell myself to stay away from Will. It’s far easier and less complicated if I avoid boys. Besides who in their right minds wants to take on an eighteen year old single mum? Not that I’ve even mentioned that in the short time I’d known him. I haven’t really told him about anything that really matters.

But he’s good company, and I think he’s lonely. And I’m lonely too. I know people at college – Karen and Lizzie are always friendly – but I haven’t got any close friends, the way I had at school. And my mates in Hope Christmas have all gone to college this year. My best mate Shaz is full of tales of drunkenness and mayhem. I try not to, but I can’t help envying them.

The girls at college are nice enough, but they’re all younger than me, and though they’re focussing on their studies, outside of college they just seem to want to party. Our lives are worlds apart. I drift around the corners of their social lives, Lizzie often invites me for drinks, but don’t join in very often. Mum and Dad are great about babysitting if I want them to, and even my brother James will step in if they can’t do it, but I don’t think it’s fair to impose on them, so I turn down most of the invitations I get. And they don’t come round so frequently anymore.

So it’s nice that Will comes and seeks me out at the coffee bar, and asks my opinions about essays. I tell myself he’s just being friendly and we’re mates, so I can still feel in control. I’ve not even given him my mobile number, and we never meet away from college. We’re friends, that’s all. And that’s the way it’s going to stay.

***

After we bumped into each other the day we were late, suddenly it’s become easy. Melanie is often on her own in the coffee bar at break time when most people go to Shrewsbury. I go sometimes with a couple of the lads, but I’ve got so much work to catch up on, I don’t want to get distracted. So most of the time I stay in the coffee bar too. If Melanie’s not there, she’s in the library studying. I swear that girl always has her head in a book. She studies with a sort of manic intensity, as if she daren’t ever stop. I ask her about it one day, and she mutters something about being under pressure to do well, so I assume her parents are always on her case.

She doesn’t talk about her family much, and I know very little about them. She has two sisters and a brother. I have no idea what her parents do, or where she even lives. It must be a way from here, as she drives in every day. I’d push her on it, but I get the feeling she’d just clam up on me if I ask her. She seems happy to talk about anything except the personal.

I also get the feeling that someone hurt her pretty badly, she’s so wary and shy of me, like a damaged fawn. I’ve not even held hands with her yet, though we do now give each other an awkward hug on meeting. And a peck on the cheek when we say goodbye. I’d like to move things on a bit further, but I’m wary of pushing her away. And I really don’t want to do that.

Because somewhere between us meeting at the college gates and now, Melanie’s become very necessary to my existence. In fact, I think I’m falling for her hard. Which wasn’t part of the game plan. Not at all.

Somehow it’s early October and the leaves are turning yellow and falling off the trees. I’m lucky to live in a place like Hope Christmas, which always shows nature of to it’s advantage. But the weeks are flying past. Lou Lou is saying more every day and turning into such a little bundle of fun I am finding it harder and harder to leave her. Even though I know she loves nursery, and on her non nursery days Mum is there to look after her. I know it has to be this way, but sometimes I really hate it.

At least college is going well. It’s hard work, but I’m loving the subjects I’m doing and I’m glad I’ve met Will. I don’t know where it’s going, but it’s nice to have a proper friend at last. He’s so easy to talk to and I miss him when he’s not around. Most days now we have lunch together. And sometimes in our frees, if we’re not too stressed about work, we sneak off for a coffee in town – something everyone else does, but I’ve never had reason to till now.

He knows to buy me a hot chocolate, I know he always has Americano. I like that, on the sharp crisp October mornings, warming our hands on our takeaway drinks, and wandering round Shrewsbury. Will’s a mine of information. He knows all about Roman history, and other stuff. And I love the way he gets animated when he’s explaining something to me, then looks awkward, and says, “I’m not boring you am I?” It’s really cute. In fact he is all round cute, and if I hadn’t foresworn boys …

But I have and Will’s just a friend. One who’s company I enjoy, that’s all. He’s also the only person I’ve met here who works harder than I do. He’s – I dunno – driven somehow. I think he has a tough home life, though he doesn’t talk about it much. He has mentioned a sister, who sounds as much of a nightmare as my little sister Paige is. She’s fourteen and going through a trying stage. Though Mum always tells me I was worse at her age. She might be right. And at least after me, Paige will probably have the sense not to get pregnant.

Will and I are also working on our personal statements together. Though he’s struggling to decide where to go, I’ve known since the day I started college last year. I can tell Will is puzzled by desire to stay at home and study in Birmingham, “Don’t you ant to leave home?” he asks. “That’s surely half the fun of going to uni.” If only he knew! Of course I want to leave home, but that’s not an option for me.

“It’s a really good course,” I mumble pathetically, “and I like being at home. Besides it’s cheaper, and I know my mum and dad are struggling. Maybe I’ll live out in my second year.”

It’s not strictly untrue about the money thing either. Though she’s working on something new, Mum was recently been passed over for a TV job, and I know she’s fretting about our finances. But if things were different, I know she and Dad would have supported me.

“It’s a shame,” says Will, “Tom might be a dick, but he’s right about you trying for Oxbridge.”

“Yeah, well,” I say, “Oxbridge isn’t everything, besides Birmingham has the course I want.”

Thanks to Mum’s encouragement, I’ve already managed to do some writing for Mother and Toddler mags, and freelance journalism seems like a really good way to combine motherhood and working. But I can’t tell Will that.I’ve been toying with the idea of mentioning the blog I write about being a single mum in my personal statement, but none of my tutors know about that either, and I’d rather keep it that way. Mum wanted me to tell everyone at college what my circumstances are, but I didn’t want to seem different from anyone else, so I’ve kept quiet. I just want college to be about Melanie the teenager, not Mel the teenage mum. I’ve even signed up here as Melanie Carpenter, not Melanie Tinsall, as Mum sometimes mentions Lou Lou on her own blog, and I didn’t want anyone making the connection. I sometimes think I may have got that a bit wrong – it’s hard living a lie, particularly now Will’s around – but it’s too late to change it now.

***

“So what do you think?” I say, looking again at the course prospectuses before me, “Nottingham or Leeds for my second choice?”

“What does it matter what I think,” laughs Melanie. “You’re not going to listen to anything I say, and you’ll only change your mind again tomorrow. What’s your first choice today? Is it Warwick or Liverpool?”

“Warwick,” I say, “definitely Warwick. I want a campus uni.”

“Then,” says Melanie, leaning over my shoulder tantalisingly closely, “you should put Nottingham down second. I’ve got a mate there, she’s loving it. Her course is great, and the night life is good.”

Really, I want to put down wherever Melanie’s going, which I know is completely pathetic of me, choosing my uni on the basis of where the girl I fancy goes. And it’s clear that Melanie doesn’t fancy me back. She’s friendly and interested in me as a mate, but there’s been no sign of anything else.

Besides, she’s determined to go to Birmingham, which is too close to home for me. I can’t understand why she wants to live at home, but she says it’s the best course for what she wants to do, which is journalism. She’s mentioned briefly, that her mum is a journalist, but I still don’t know any more than that. She’s definitely a woman of mystery, Melanie. And I can’t get enough of her. We’ve been for coffee every day for the last six weeks, and sometimes, I think I barely know her at all. She’s definitely hiding something from me. I wish I knew what it was.

And then, just before half term everything changes. Despite my best efforts and my determined attempts not to allow myself to feel anything for Will, I realise I’m fighting a losing battle when it dawns on me I’m not going to see him for a week. A whole week. I’m not sure I can stand it. I’ve got used to seeing his smiling face every morning when I just scrape in on time, and him saving me a place in the lunch queue,(which happens often enough now to raise eyebrows with the small group of girls I hang around with) and I’m not sure how I’ll cope without our daily coffee.

I start feeling panicky about not having him around to chat to about college and homework and all the other stuff we talk about. I know we can snapchat each other, but it’s not the same. And when I realise that – it suddenly hits me. I’ve fallen for him big time without even noticing. How did that happen? And what’s more what am I going to do about it?

Especially as Will doesn’t seem particularly interested in me. Unlike Andy Pilsdon, who’d pretty much jumped on me on our first date, Will hasn’t made a single attempt to touch me, apart from giving me a swift peck on the cheek when we meet. So I am either ugly as sin or he doesn’t fancy me. Or he’s a gentleman … which would be novel. Andy wasn’t the gentlemanly type at all. Pity I only realised that when it was far too late.

But the way I feel about Will is different. Looking back I can see now what a shallow relationship I had with Andy. I was obsessed with him, and he used me like dirt. And like an idiot I let him.

Will isn’t like that at all. He’s kind and attentive, and interested in me as a person. And he’s beginning to feel very necessary to me. Which is scary in itself. I told myself I was done with relationships, and this one seems to have snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking.

So when he asks if I want to meet up in the holidays, I have to say yes. Even though I am going to have to beg a favour from Mum to do so. I’m sure she won’t mind though. She’s always on at me to spend time with my college friends. I just won’t mention which one.