Apples (7 page)

‘Who was it?’ Eve asked, swishing blonde hair about. ‘I’ve got a cousin who’d knock them out for you. It’s no hassle. There’s so many dicks about.’

‘Nah, you’re alright,’ Adam replied, getting redder. He sniffed and ruffled his hair underneath, then quickly changed the subject. ‘So, youse going out tonight?’

‘Dunno,’ Eve said, keeping the sun out of her eyes with her hand, like a gorgeous captain out at sea. ‘See how I feel.’

‘If you ever see us out and about,’ Debbie started, ‘you’ll have to buy us a drink or something.’

Adam sniggered, then started to look uncomfortable again and stood up. He was no Cary Grant. He slowly picked up the Adidas jacket; other school kids were walking up the field and the bell was about to go. He was probably desperate to get swotting away again. Blinking, he shoved the coat on and for a second he looked like a red admiral. I was slightly horny – flexing my claspers, I racked my brains and hoped it wasn’t butterflies who ate their husbands.

‘So aren’t you seeing anyone, Adam?’ the girl asked, folding up her Duffer top and cardigan on the grass, which were strewn about.

‘Naw, not yet,’ Adam said, and he got flustered again. What an unusual person. ‘Are you?’

‘No; young, free and single,’ Eve laughed; that was my line. I wavered on the clovers. Eve dipped her head back and stared at the fluffy clouds. The sky was so massive I trembled at the thought of flying into it, but it did look tremendous.

‘I’m sure you’ll get someone nice,’ Adam said, zipping up. He was so selfless – you could tell that. ‘Anyway, I guess I’ll love you and leave you now. See youse later.’

‘Bye-bye,’ the girls said together, waving him off. Eve watched him stride past the steel fence, then played with the studs in her ears and said, ‘Aww, he’s nice, isn’t he.’

‘Yeah, he’s funny,’ Debbie said. I flapped the neon wings again, but they weren’t getting any drier. I breathed out then jiggled about. I only had twenty-four hours to find a mate – it was nerve-wracking, maybe the girls hadn’t even hatched, but who really could turn down sparkly sequin wings and big old claspers.

‘Look, there’s a butterfly,’ Debbie said, pointing me out just as they got up to leave. I felt my cheeks glow. I was flattered but I didn’t flutter much longer. As the girls continued chatting and stomping up the playing field, a huge blackbird suddenly swooped out of nowhere and gobbled me up. I screamed and screamed – his beak was like a chain-saw, and I couldn’t escape it. I curled up then dropped to the ground, two glitter-blue arms on the grass and two little antennae on the wind.

Glitter-blue splashed the water. It burnt! You always seem to get so relaxed and vacant before bathtime, only to get scalded. I hid about in the Boots bubbles, getting numb after a while and quite steamy. Me and Laura had the bridesmaid dresses hung above the door – these off-white numbers with no straps and fairly short. She was in there with me chattering about all sorts. We had butterflies flying round our tums. Eventually I just gave in and ran some cold, then I swished around and used the old sponge, the one like a shard of glass or breezeblock but it definitely got you sparkling. I squeezed my hair back against my head – it always looked darker wet, but by ceremony time me and Laura would be blessed with platinum blonde ringlets. I was speaking foam. As the steam rose and swirled, Natasha knocked and appeared in her gorgeous wedding dress, and we had to stop what we were doing and stare at her.

You look amazing, I said. It’d been a hectic day – all the wedding arrangements had been sorted before Christmas, but there was still the important matter of looking great. Laura started to put on the dress while Natasha checked her make-up – the fake tan looked really over the top in her white gown. I smiled and watched Natasha pout four or five times, ready for the you may now kiss the bride part.

Who are you bringing again, Laura? she asked, turning round. I dipped my head underwater when she replied, Some lad.

Anyone nice? I asked, but I wasn’t bothered. She told me a little about this boy from Kirby College with blue eyes and big muscles, but I just stopped and glared at the water. I dripped Fructis shampoo on myself, hoping they wouldn’t come home together and moan moan moan through the night. At least we were getting rid of Natasha and Dean. Five nights a week they banged the bed up against my head, but I didn’t really mean that. I thought back to me, Natasha and Laura sharing the bathtub on Sundays, Mam and our Dad running upstairs every five minutes to check we hadn’t drowned. We used to have competitions for holding our breath underwater and flooding the bathroom sliding up and down it, but we wouldn’t go that far. I massaged round the shampoo then ducked in again, squinting as the shampoo dissolved all over. My hair rose to the surface, and I stopped like that til Laura belted out, Eve, have you still got that necklace I like?

Trying to speak underwater, a load of bubbles made a noise, then I leapt to the surface and said, What?

Have you still got that nice necklace? she repeated, as I stretched out of the water and covered myself with one arm.

The chunky gold thing? I asked, lowering in again.

Yeah; can I borrow it?

Er, yeah. It’s in my blue box.

Is it really gold? Natasha asked as she left the room, raising one eyebrow she’d retweezered.

Well no, it’s all rusty now. But you know what I mean.

Shutting my eyes, I leant back in the tub and rinsed off the shampoo completely. The lavender foam faded into cloud. Then I shimmied forward, pulling my knees up to my chest and watching out my hair didn’t land in the dirty water. For a bit I stared as Laura came back and did her make-up, throwing round reds and pinks and blacks and peaches. I smiled, getting to that horrible point of forcing yourself out of the bath. I sat there like a jelly blancmange, and fortunately just then Mam came through the door with cups of tea so I stayed put. God, it was getting crowded – in these terrace houses the bathrooms are practically a broom cupboard. Mam had on a new two-piece from Binns with these tiny flower motifs and she was looking well. She smiled and passed over my Tigger mug.

Thanks, I said.

Roundabout then Mam was well into the chemotherapy, but luckily you could wear a hat to the wedding. She was still herself really. Supposedly the therapy was quite harsh – I didn’t know too much about it, did they zap you with a laser gun? We didn’t tend to go into it much; instead we always tried to stay happy. I gurgled the gorgeous tea then flashed eyelashes at my mam. It was getting late but I couldn’t get out of the bath at all, and I made sure that tea lasted. I was absolutely boiling, but for the sake of it I decided to have another scrub in the murky water. Looking at myself in the nud always made me think of Fairhurst – he preferred girls to have a totally bare miaow, and now and then we shaved each other round his. I shaved him just for the laugh of it. I always made sure to keep my parts dead fresh – you get more cuntilingus from boys that way. How good is sex! I was starting to feel pretty silly and immature, so I sat up straight and polished off the tea. Mam took my mug back downstairs, and under the cowgirl hat you couldn’t tell she didn’t have any hair.

Don’t be too long in that bath! the kitchen echoed. You don’t want to be wrinkly for the wedding, do you.

Sighing, I grabbed one side of the tub then asked Natasha, Can you pass me the big one, please?

I pointed to the massive goldfishes towel slung over the radiator, then I pulled the bath-plug and felt the water drain around me, leaving a bit of candy-floss on my skin. Natasha threw the rug at me as I stood up, and I glimmered in the white light. It started to feel cold out of the bath-water so I fixed the towel round and laughed when the plug-hole burped behind me. Using a different towel for my hair, I sat on the edge of the bath then waited for Laura and Natasha to finish at the mirror. I was well behind schedule for the pampering, but it was good jumping into the dress straight after a scrub. The silk was like a second layer of skin, and I decided to go commando. Outside the town was clouded over, and the whiteness of the window shone through at us. I stood for a bit tucking into Laura’s toiletries, and I couldn’t imagine how it must feel for Natasha – she was about to spend the rest of her life with one boy. God knows who I’d end up with. My outlook was not to worry about it too much, just enjoy your life because you’ve only got one of them. Some girls at Brackenhoe were already settled down with a fella, some had a kid or two, and some were just plain boring. But Natasha and Dean were amazing together, and the main thing was Mam seeing at least one of us tie the knot. On the way downstairs we felt like princesses and we floated outside – the taxi came at eleven. I hoped Natasha got the sun.

I don’t know when it dawned on me I’d been violated. Afterwards I dropped straight back to sleep, one tit squeezed out my new bra and my jeans halfway down my thighs = uncomfy. I guessed there’d be all that sludge in there. At about midnight I could hear Rachel and Jenni slagging me off, saying they’d have to take me to the clinic and calling me a slag and a slut. I felt so shit, and I didn’t know what was up. I passed out again. I woke the next morning in a funny bed, the left booby still out and the undies scrunched and horrible. Rachel and Jenni had kipped on the floor, and when I started stirring they shot up and rubbed their fuzzy heads. I felt sick and painful. I turned over in the bed, sorted out the bra and knicks, but Jenni started talking and it didn’t sound like I was allowed to sleep. And it was a Sunday, of all things. We fixed up our clothes and hair, then tried to find the Overfields Girl whose house it was and let ourselves out. There were a few boys sleeping downstairs in a heap and we got out through the back, jumping over the punch bowls and the bucket. I felt depressed as anything on the Arriva, getting off at the clinic just to make it worse. We were hardly talking to each other as we walked, but Jenni kept reminding me about Clinton. It hurt to remember them calling me names the night before – I’d been with about five or six boys before, but never been unprotected before now and I sometimes went to the docs for checks and things. Jenni was making out I’d never seen a clinic before in my life, but fuck her. In fact I doubted she’d ever seen any action in her life. It wasn’t my fault – it was just the same as her going out and getting off with lads for drinks, or that time she sucked someone’s knob outside the Bongo. I hardly ever went out because of the epilepsy thing – I had a few seizures when I was younger, and in any case I didn’t have the money to go out gallivanting all the time. It’s not like one flashing light sets me off, it’s just I wasn’t into all the drugs the girls were doing, and ecstasy tended to go hand in hand with strobe lights. As we sloped towards Henry Taylor Court and the scruffy bungalows, my head was banging offof that bucket and all the drinking. At one point Rachel’s phone beeped and she stared at it and clicked for ages. We soon got to the clinic and it looked so uninviting – we strode through the doors quite slowly with faded faces. I yawned – Jenni wanted to do all the talking, so me and Rach stood around with just the posters of dicks and fannies to look at. My tummy flipped over, and I felt so faint I had to plonk myself next to some skinny lad in a red and white Von Dutch cap. He was slightly hot, but I didn’t speak a word because he was probably crawling with Aids and I didn’t want to push it. I knew Jenni and Rachel were doing me a favour but it was long and drawn-out like water torture – if I’d been in the same situation on my own, I probably would’ve just crept home and figured I’d be alright. Nothing like pregnancy or STD or cancer is ever going to touch you. Biting my red nail, I slouched on the seat and gazed at the carpet. In a minute Jenni called me over, and the nurse-person said I had to take one pill now and another in six hours or whenever it was. It seemed a bit overboard but I swallowed down the first one and I felt a bit better already. After all, they were only trying to catch one tiny sperm creature. ‘Thanks,’ I said, half to the nurse and half to Jenni and Rachel. I was all clear, but I baulked slightly seeing a horrible foetus thing on the wall. I made plans to do some laundry and get showered back in Park End, and we strode out of there with slightly sunnier faces. Rachel swung off her cheerleader jacket, Jenni lit a superking, and I flicked hair out of my sleepy peeps. Jen and Rach had to wait for another Arriva, so I waved bye-bye quite cheery and sat alone on the first Stagecoach down Ladgate Lane and swept across Park End. The pink tower-block was lush in the sunshine, and I watched for people’s faces in the many windows but you never quite caught them. It must’ve been after noon when I got off, and I said thanks to the sulky driver then walked my way to Delamere. I thought our health centre on Overdale Road looked awful pretty all of a sudden. Our Shaun was charging round the front yard in a Robin outfit when I reached the house, and he hardly even saw me because he was screaming so much. Step-dad Dave was watching out the top bedroom window, and I rubbed Shauny’s glossy hair then slipped inside. Our lawn was pretty battered, and I tramped in a little mud before kicking my Ellesses on the pile. The boy-wonder carried on playing and I left the door ajar for him, smiling when he shrieked hi to me. ‘Hey you,’ I replied, then stormed upstairs quite sharpish for that shower. I shouted hello at Joe’s bedroom door then Dave and Mam’s, getting a couple of replies before peeling off my top and other bits in the bathroom. I hated Dave leaving all his underduds around, and I kicked them outside as the room steamed up. I ripped off earrings and scrubbed off make-up, chucking everything on the side then diving into the red-hot waterfall. I frazzled those sperms = Batman and Robin would’ve been dead proud. Pow! And zap! I ran the water into my mouth. As it hit me I started to feel a little odd, not epileptic but very, very weary and dodgy. I stood about and breathed, and suddenly I realised how fucking hungover I was. All the commotion at the clinic had sort of blocked it out, and I tried to sit down on the edge and I was tempted to just spew up all over the bathroom. That always worked a treat. For a bit I sat there shaking, the water clashing off the white panels, and I thought fuck it – I retched and puked chocolate milk-shake down the bath. At least it wasn’t in my room. I hoiked my legs up on the tub sides til the spew drained away, feeling better although it’d been a shitty day and tears were starting to clot my eyelashes. And then I heard the morning-after pill clatter down the pipes. Not really, but it dawned on me I’d sicked it up and I shook more violent as I slid into the shallow water. I wondered if the pill had kicked in already or whether I really was screwed after all. I didn’t even bother shampooing – I turned off the shower taps, then charged out of the bath and started drying myself furious with the stiff towel. For a second I considered taking the other pill on the windowsill, and I felt completely thick and confused while I hovered around. It was so shit, I couldn’t even ask my mam for advice and I was torn between taking the risk or making a sad, mad rush to the health centre. I decided to head back down Overdale Road. There’s that saying it’s better to be safe not sorry, and it’s better swallowing a pill than getting your life ruined. I swept all the water off myself then got changed into different clothes, pulling the lemon sweater over my head as I pressed down the stairs. Dave was washing oil offof spark-plugs or something in the kitchen, and at first he wanted to talk but I could hardly take it. His hands were covered in crap, and he came over and asked if I had a good night. ‘Yeah, it was alright,’ I replied; you could not tell the truth. I wondered what him or Mam would say if I came home with a baby. I had that weird feeling in my tum. I smiled slightly then grabbed at the pile of shoes by the door, slipping on my Ellesses again and yawning, ‘I’m just popping out for some fags. You want anything?’ Dave could tell I was only saying it; he shook his head and said, ‘You seen Joe anywhere? Car’s fucked again.’ I shrugged – I hadn’t seen my big bro for a while. He was usually out kicking footballs or courting lasses, but I wasn’t in the mood to discuss it so I just waved and headed back out. I was still feeling queasy, shivering in the yellow jumper and not wanting to talk to anyone. It was ironic then that Shane, my boyfriend, appeared on the street corner. I was in sight of the health centre and everything, and all I could do was churn my belly and ask what he was up to. ‘Just came up to see you. Can I come in?’ Shane asked, and he kind of grabbed me and we drifted back the way I came. I glanced back at the centre with all its life-saving pills and other stuff, but I couldn’t exactly say I got pregnant at a party and needed to get rid of it as soon as poss. I disguised a sigh as a normal breath, and we strode back into the house. I left Shane in the bedroom while I messed around in the lav – I decided to swallow the other pill just in case. Staring hard at the mirror, I still felt pretty dozy. In the end I managed to forget about it – me and Shane shagged later on in the day with the radio on and Sunday blowing in the window. And we remembered to put on a condom.