From The Moment I Saw Him .... (3 page)

I sat in the back of the car with a soppy grin
plastered over my face, while Eva did all the talking.  Yes, we’d had fun, yes,
boys had asked us to dance, no, no-one had misbehaved.  As far as we knew, the
bicycle sheds remained undesecrated.

Eva had described to me at length the joys of
snogging with Teddy Clifford - at far too much length, to be honest.  Now I
could begin to get my own back.  I couldn’t believe that Nick had kissed me,
nor how wonderful it felt.

Back home, I fobbed off my mother’s offer of cocoa,
saying I was tired and wanted to get to bed.  I wanted to lie there and hug the
memory of those moments to myself.

Of course, it took me ages to get to sleep, and I
felt terrible the next day.  All I could think of was - when would he ring me? 
I dragged myself into the end of term assembly - the hall still reeked of sweat
and aftershave - and was rewarded with the news that I had been offered a place
at St Hugh’s.   It didn’t seem such a big deal now I had experienced my first
proper kiss. 

I was desperate to hear from Nick DeLisle, but the
telephone remained obstinately silent.  Eva had gone away with her parents, and
my only consolation was the fact that she perhaps had not had time to give our
number to Teddy before she went, or had forgotten.  It was very frustrating.

I was mooching about on the afternoon of Christmas
Eve, when the doorbell rang.  My mother went to answer it; her voice sounded
high and surprised, and I wondered if an exciting parcel had come.  Then she
called me.

“Eithne.  Come here, darling.”

I opened the door into the hall, and nearly fell
over.  The object of my desires was standing there, smartly attired in a dark
coat, and holding a bunch of roses.

“Hello Eithne.  I heard about your St. Hugh’s place,
and wanted to say well done.”

He flashed that amazing smile at us, and handed the
flowers to me with a flourish.  I was rigid with embarrassment, but couldn’t
help noticing that my mother was knocked out by the smile and the good
manners. 

“How nice of you.  Do come in - I’m sorry, I don’t
know your name?”

“Nick DeLisle - how do you do?”

He shook hands very politely, and my mother was even
more smitten.

“Don’t just stand there Eithne, take Nick into the
sitting room,” she said.  “I’ll go and put these in water.”

 I led Nick into the room, horribly conscious of my
old skirt and furry slippers.  He walked up to the decorated tree in the bay
window.

“Nice,” he said, fingering a bauble.  “For heaven’s
sake give me your number, that ass Clifford forgot to get it.”

I hastily scribbled it on a bit of paper and thrust
it at him.  Then I remembered my manners.

“Thank you for the flowers.  How did you know where
I lived?”

“Oh, I have ways....”   He looked mysterious, then
noticed my feet.  “I like your choice of footwear, very stylish.”

“Oh shut up!” I hissed.  My mother came back in with
the roses.

“These are lovely Nick, you will stay for a cup of
tea won’t you?”

I didn’t get a word in - Nick was busy charming my
mother after that.  I realised with something akin to a shock that this seemed
to come very easily to him.  I wondered why he seemed to reserve the charm for
adults, and why he couldn’t have tried some on me during our walk in the park.

He didn’t stay long, but as he rose to go, he said 

“My parents are having a big party in the evening on
Boxing Day.  We were hoping that you would allow Eithne to come for a while.”

“Of course she can.  We haven’t got any engagements,
her father can run her there and collect her later.”

 I looked at my mother in surprise.  Normally she
was very difficult about me visiting people she didn’t know, but perhaps she
had been influenced by Nick’s winning ways.     

“Does Eithne know where you live?” she asked.

Eithne didn’t.  It transpired that Nick lived on the
other side of town, where the old Victorian houses were, and I could feel my
mother becoming even more impressed.  She tactfully stayed behind when I
accompanied Nick to the door.

“I think you’ve made a conquest,” I said wryly, as I
opened it.

“What?  Oh yes, mums always like me,” he said with a
smug smile, wrapping his scarf round his throat. 

“Your famous charm,” I murmured.

“Yes indeed.”

We stood there, linked in the amusement of the
moment.  It felt good.

“Thanks for asking me to the party,” I said at last.

He gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

    “See you Friday, then.”

As he walked down the drive, I called out, panicking
suddenly,

 “What should I wear?”

“Just leave those earrings at home.”

I almost expected to see his grin lingering on in
the driveway, like the Cheshire Cat.

I passed a rather uncomfortable evening, with my
mother gushing to my father about Eithne’s charming young man, and asking
questions which I couldn’t answer.

“Mum - I’ve only met him once or twice.  I don’t
know him at all well,” I said eventually.

“He likes you, dear.  Anyone can see that.”

I wished that were true, I wasn’t too sure myself.

 Christmas Day seemed a bit of an anticlimax after
this exciting invitation.  My thoughts were mainly preoccupied about what to
wear to the party.  The dress I had worn to the dance might be a little too
formal.  It would have to be the Dollyrockers outfit again.  I hoped that Nick
hadn’t seen much of it when we were in the cafe.

And then - there I was, at my first grown up party. 
I did feel nervous when my father dropped me off.  Nick’s house was double
fronted and spacious, full of people laughing and drinking, the noise almost
deafened me when I went in.  It was a noise I wasn’t very familiar with,
adults, relaxed and enjoying themselves without constraint. The house was
beautifully decorated and seemed very sophisticated to me.  I began to
understand why Nick was different to the other boys.

He introduced me to his mother.  She was willowy and
elegant; apparently she worked as a buyer for a big store downtown.  I wasn’t
quite sure what a buyer did, but didn’t like to ask.

His father shook my hand with a grave smile, before
turning back to his golfing cronies.  Best of all was Nick’s sister Rosine, a
dancer at Covent Garden in the corps de ballet.  She had come with a posse of
London friends, who brought an extra overlay of colour and glamour to the
proceedings.  I thought to myself that this was living…. how wonderful to find
myself part of this sophisticated crowd.

One of Rosine’s friends, a slender man who seemed to
be wearing eye make-up, was fascinated by my hair. 

“Darling - what lovely, lovely locks - you have a
beautiful natural wave,” he drawled, picking up a chunk and letting it ripple
through his fingers.  “I always say little Nicky has good taste in women.”

Nick, slim in a flowered shirt and jeans, put an arm
round my shoulders.

“Don’t frighten the children, Antoine,” he grinned.

He seemed absolutely at home with everyone, old and
young.  It was one of his talents, and I envied it.  I wondered how long it
would take me to become like that.

 Rosine thrust a glass of white wine at me.

“Pay no attention to them, darling,” she advised.  I
smiled, loving the silly chatter, even if I was too dumb to join in apart from
the odd word.  My head was spinning with the novelty of it all.  A few large
gulps of wine, which I wasn’t really used to, were having an effect as well.

After a while, I heard Nick say to his mother, in a
tone of deceptive innocence,

“I’m just going to show Eithne my new guitar.”

He took my hand, and led me up the stairs.  We went
down a passage, and he opened a door.  It was his bedroom.

 I looked around curiously.  There were a few
dramatic posters from films and bands on the walls, but the rest seemed tidy
and rather impersonal.  I was disappointed, I had hoped there would be more
clues about the real person under the cool exterior.

The room was large, and there was a double bed in
one corner.  Nick sat down on the end of the bed.

“Come on, then.”

He patted the coverlet next to him.  I must have
looked stunned, because he burst out laughing.

“You are funny.  Don’t worry, I’m not going to
ravish you in the middle of a drinks party, that’s a bit much, even for me.”

“Your guitar...?” I said stupidly.

“Sod the guitar.  Come here.”

I went across to him, a little reluctantly.  He
pulled me down on to the bed, and began to kiss me very passionately, and the
next ten minutes were amazing, sexy, an education in themselves.  I wanted to
go on kissing him for ever, drowning in the bliss of touching him and being
touched.  I hadn’t realised it could feel like this.

“Why do you have such a gorgeous smile, Nick?” I
asked dreamily, tracing the dimple in his cheek with my finger.  (I had wanted
to do that for such a long time.)  “It was the first thing I noticed about
you.”

“Dunno.  Good genes, bone structure, good luck.” 

He glanced at his watch.  “I suppose we’d better get
back downstairs before we’re missed.  The guitar’s a Fender Bass, in case
anyone asks.”

Then it was time for the buffet, but I was too
strung up to do more than nibble at a few morsels.  I couldn’t stop thinking
about kissing him again, and the wonderful sensations which had made my knees
grow weak.  Was it just Nick?  For a moment, I wondered whether I would have
felt the same about any of the other boys I had danced with the week before,
and felt quite definitely that it wouldn’t be the same thing at all.

Later, Nick got into a prolonged conversation with a
friend of his father about Oxford colleges, and I wandered over to the door
into the conservatory, where people were dancing under a net of coloured
lights.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

A fair haired young man, one of the London crowd,
held out a formal hand.

“I’m Eithne.  I’m here with Nick.” I said - I had
nearly said “I’m Nick’s girlfriend”, but wasn’t sure if that was true or not.

“I’m Martin, one of Rosine’s friends.”

We watched the dancers for a while.  I said,

“How wonderful it must be to dance professionally. 
Rosine is so graceful.”

Martin lit a cigarette and nodded.

“Yes.  She moves beautifully.”

 His eyes followed her longingly, and I began to
wonder if he might be in love with her.  “Tell me, Eithne, how long have you
been going out with Nick?” he asked.

“I’ve only known him a few weeks.  We met just
before the end of term dance,” I explained.

“The end of term dance ...... Christ, that makes me
feel ancient.” 

He laughed, and took a deep drag on his cigarette.

“They seem to be a very attractive family,” I
murmured, not quite knowing how to continue the conversation. 

Martin was still gazing at Rosine.

“Yes.  They’re quite fascinating, really very
seductive....”  His voice tailed away, and he put a hand on my shoulder,
demanding my attention.

“Just one thing, Eithne.  I’m telling you this
because you seem like a nice young girl to me.  You need to watch out with the
DeLisles.  They get away with a lot because they’re so bloody attractive.  Dad
- George - is a big noise in textiles - very successful, but he’s put a lot of
smaller companies out of business without turning a hair.  Mrs DeLisle holds
down a great job.  Rosine - well, she looks like an angel, but she trails a
long string of broken hearts behind her.”

“Yes, and yours is one of them,” I thought.

“DeLisles put themselves first.  Don’t get too fond
of Nick, he’s a chip off the old block.”

“People are always telling me to watch out for
Nick!” I exclaimed, rattled.  “I have heard about what he’s like - what he’s
supposed to be like.  I think I’m old enough to make my own mistakes,” I added
defiantly.

Martin gave me a sceptical glance.

“Compared to Nick, you’re a baby, Eithne,” he said,
laughing.

 I resented this, but I recognised a lurking truth. 
He was only trying to help me.

“I expect I’m very stupid,” I said, at last.

Martin ground his cigarette out in a flowerpot, then
turned towards me.  His face opened out into a wistful expression of
remembrance and loss.

“Yes - and the worst thing is that you’ve no idea
how attractive that can be to a man        - or boy, for that matter.  I’m
sorry,” he said, more gently.  “Pay no attention to me, I’m maudlin tonight. 
Just remember that you can still walk away if you want to.”