Love My Enemy (14 page)

'Stop it!' she hissed.

'Whassamatter?' he said again.

Time to get out. She didn't want to humiliate him, but
there was no way she was going to be humiliated again.

'
You're
whassamatter,' she said. 'By – ye!'

It was as easy as that. She had been so worried about
this, so scared, but when it happened, she just slid out
and walked away. Tasha felt terrific; totally sorted,
totally in charge.

She left the room, went back into the kitchen and
joined a group of girls. An hour later, after Zee had
caught up with her friends and Tasha had danced a good
bit more, they left and walked home together.

'No red hanky signals,' noted Zee, yawning.

'No.'

'You looked like you were enjoying yourself.'

Tasha smiled as she turned in at her gate. She could
not begin to describe how good she felt. The relief, after
all these weeks, of proving she could cope. How could
she tell Zee who coped with everything, who took life
completely in her stride, who let nothing, not Conor, not
Gary, not even her own father's death, get in her way?

Zee was going to be a top-flight journalist and Tasha
felt quite sure that she would make it.

Zee was smart, Zee was pretty.

Zee could be anything she wanted.

Zee perched on the linen basket, lipstick in hand and
peered in the bathroom mirror. The casual look she was
trying so hard to achieve seemed terribly complicated.
Holding her breath she smudged lipstick across her
cheeks then applied it to her lips. Iced Sunset it was
called. She had picked up the trick from Tasha who said
that lipstick and blusher should match exactly because
an even tone flatters. So why, Zee wondered, did Iced
Sunset make her look like one of those over-the-top
cosmetics assistants from Boots? She surveyed her eye
make-up gloomily. According to Tasha and the teen
magazines, she should use four different shades on her
upper eyelid alone. But how? Where? Her eyelid wasn't
big enough. As for eyeliner, that hurt. Perhaps a little
mascara, on the upper lashes only. . .

'Zee!' shrieked a voice.

She got such a fright that she poked her eye with the
mascara wand. She hurried downstairs, rubbing it as she
went. 'What's the panic, Mum?'

'Gemma's got a temperature – that's what – and
I
should have left by now.'

'So she has,' said Zee, feeling her sister's hot little
forehead. 'You poor wee thing.'

'How come
she
gets all the fuss?' demanded Josh.
'My head hurts too.'

'Because
she's
got spots,' said Gary.

'Spots?' Zee couldn't help having a go at Gary who
was standing in the chintzy bay window with his arms
firmly crossed. 'So that's why you're keeping a safe
distance – my hero!'

'Be quiet, you two – what spots are you talking
about?' Their mother pulled Gemma's hair away from
her ears for a closer look. Gemma promptly burst into
tears.

'I don't want spots. I'll look horrible with spots. No
one will ever marry me!'

'Eejit!' Zee gave her sister a hug. 'They'll fade away.
Sure you've only just got – um?'

'Plague?' suggested Gary.

'Chicken pox,' said their mum. 'It isn't a cold these two
have had lately, they've been incubating chicken pox.'

'Shouldn't we call a doctor?' asked Gary. 'To give
them jabs?'

Gemma screamed and Zee had to stop Josh doing a
runner. Sue glowered at her oldest son.

'No doctor and no jabs,' she said firmly. 'We just need
to keep them quiet, give them Calpol every six hours
and lots to drink in between.' She glanced at her watch
and groaned. 'I might have known that as soon as I even
thought
about going out to work you kids would fall ill.
I'd better cancel.'

'No,' said Zee firmly. 'This evening's important for
you, Mum. You go – Gary will cope.'

'Me? On me own? Cope with the two of them
and
the
chicken pox? What about you, sunshine?'

Zee gritted her teeth; there was no way Gary was
stopping her going out now. 'I've made arrangements
too,' she said, 'and I can't change them.'

'It's only a flamin' tea-party.'

'It's dinner! A posh dinner with four courses and
VIPs. And I've promised Tasha I'll be there.' Zee felt
herself turn redder with every lie. At least their mother
seemed to have made up her mind; she was picking up
her car keys.

'Right, I'll ring as soon as I get to the teaching
college,' she said. 'If these two are feeling worse I'll just
grab some leaflets and come straight back. Gary, give
them plenty of Coke – it'll stop them dehydrating.'

'What about her?' he demanded.

'Zee will be just across the road if you need her.
Won't you, love?'

Zee swallowed hard. 'Yeah, 'course I will.'

Gary was still scowling at her, his eyes narrowed.
'Don't get too comfortable, party girl, 'cos if I need you,
I'll be straight on that phone.'

Praying that she would not be needed, Zee picked up
her bag and fled.

Conor had got to the bookshop first. He was waiting in
the fantasy section right by the front door, his hands in
his pockets, his dark hair flopping forward as he read the
titles. Zee's stomach spun like a coin. He was so good
looking and so much fun; was he really hers?

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she wavered. What good
could possibly come of this relationship? If
only
he
wasn't Catholic. Maybe she should get out before she
got in any deeper. After all, if she didn't show up
tonight, Conor would understand. He would know that it
was too risky for her, too hard. Sure, he'd be disappointed,
but he would go home and gradually get over it
and they would both be safe. Maybe she should walk
away right now.

'Conor?' she whispered.

He raced to her and wrapped her up in his arms,
tightly, so very, very tightly, as if he was never ever
going to let her go again, as if she meant everything to
him, his entire world.

'I've missed you so much!' He kissed her head, her
face, her neck, not caring what anyone in the shop might
think. 'I thought I was going mad without you. How did
I ever get a girl like you? I
love
you, Zee.'

She looked up and only silenced him by putting her
finger on his lips. Conor started laughing.

'What's happened, Zee? Did you fall in the coal
bucket?'

Too late she remembered the accident with the
mascara, then, with horror, she saw his blue shirt, a new
shirt by the look of it, streaked with black. 'Oh no, Con!'

But he just laughed louder and picked her up and spun
her round and everyone in Bookbinder's stared at them
all over again.

'I'm going to get cleaned up, Con – five minutes.'

In the Ladies, Zee scrubbed off all the make-up and was
about to start again when she decided not to. Conor loved
her, this face staring back at her, naked, from the mirror.
She loved him too and if they had to explain exactly what
it was they loved about each other, maybe they couldn't.
Maybe that was what made it all so exciting.

Her eyes twinkled at her in the mirror, her teeth
gleamed and her newly washed hair had sparkling
gold highlights. Perhaps she didn't look so bad after
all. She would never have flawless skin or fantastically
long legs but she looked happy and healthy and
Conor loved her.

Zee threw the make-up back in her bag and found him
waiting at an alcove table. They held hands around the
single candle and talked quickly. The waiter bringing
their coffees had to cough to catch their attention.

'Come on, tell me your results, Con.'

'I did okay,' he said modestly. 'Got eight.'

Zee barked with delight. 'Good grades?'

'Good enough for medicine.'

'That means they're brilliant.'

Conor allowed himself a grin. 'S'pose so . . . straight
As actually.'

'Conor!' She flung her arms around him. 'Clever,
clever you!'

'I'm doing physics, chemistry and biology for A
level.' His eyes started to shine. 'Zee, this means that
one day, I really
could
be a surgeon, you know.'

'What did your folks say?'

He laughed. 'It's stopped them going on about Gary
and the fight – that's the main thing.'

'I bet they were delighted.'

'Yeah, they treated me to this shirt.'

She delved into her bag. 'I've brought you something
too. It's not much but I did it myself.'

His smooth features set with curiosity as he balanced
the little parcel in the palm of his hand. 'It's heavy.'

'No guessing – open it.'

Conor stripped off the red paper to reveal a pure white
stone intricately painted in black with a Celtic design of
two bodies entwined.

'Us,' he breathed, tracing the winding pattern with a
finger.

'I picked up the stone at Helen's Bay the night of the
party.'

'It's stunning, Zee. I didn't know you could paint.'

'Sure it's only wiggly lines,' she said but inside she
was glowing with pleasure.

'It's much more than that.' His soft eyes searched
hers. 'This will sit on the mantelpiece of our first flat,'
he whispered.

Zee felt panic flooding through her body like a lock-gate
opening on a canal. Her head emptied of any sensible
response and she started jabbering about chicken pox and
Tullymore forest and Tracy's party while all the time her
mind was racing with other thoughts.

Their first flat? Why had he gone and said that? What
was the point of leaping ahead? Weren't things complicated
enough already?

When Bookbinder's closed they moved on to a pizza
hut, ate huge pizzas and toasted Conor's success with
Coke. She told him about her mother's information
evening and he told her about a spectacular skate-boarding
accident one of his brothers had been involved in, and
they both carefully avoided the subject of themselves.

'Kieran said it was his best accident yet,' laughed
Conor. 'My old man's on at me to take it up now.'

'You're far too old,' she said deflatingly. 'You have to
be about twelve to skate-board.'

'I know. Ach, he's just trying to keep me out of trouble.'

'Away from Tasha, you mean.' Zee groaned heavily.
'Away from me – if only he knew it.'

'Now don't go all gloomy.'

'It's the lying I hate, Con. What are we going to do?'

He stroked her bare arm. 'Don't worry, we'll be okay.
There's a kinda peace, isn't there? One day we'll be able
to go public. Couples like us are going to be just fine.'

Zee moved her arm away slowly. Sometimes she felt
older than Conor, and wiser, despite all his brains. 'Have
you forgotten Gary?' she asked him.

'If Gary's bitter, that's his problem.'

'But it's mine too. Can't you understand? I lost my
dad – I couldn't bear to lose the rest of my family too.'

Conor sat back slowly in his chair, his face tightening
up. 'What are you trying to say, Zee? Don't you think
we've got a future then?'

'Don't go all cold on me, Con.'

'Well, what exactly are you trying to say?'

'Just that Gary's never going to let us set up home
together.'

'He can't stop us.'

'Aye, he can – he could split my family over it.'

'That's their choice. Zee, do you love me or don't you?'

'Would I be here if I didn't? Would I be lying to my
whole family and making Tasha lie too?'

'Then what's the problem?'

'I want
all
of you – I don't want to have to choose
between you and them.' Suddenly an idea flitted through
her head like a bat through an attic and she blurted it out.
'We could go to London and get a flat there, just the two
of us – then nobody need know!'

'Don't be ridiculous,' he said scathingly. 'How would
we keep a thing like that a secret?'

'We could if we tried hard enough.' She knew she was
chasing a rainbow but she couldn't stop babbling. 'I
could join a newspaper, you could do your A levels at
college—'

'Whoa! I'm not going anywhere.'

'But it might be the only way we could make it work.'

'It wouldn't!' His eyes flashed at her. 'This is our
home, Zee.
Belfast
. I'm not going to be chased away by
Gary or by anyone else. I've told you, I'm going to be
part of the peace – and so should you.'

'Don't tell me what I should do,' she retaliated. 'So you
want to be part of the peace, do you? Huh! Where does
knocking the shit out of Gary fit into that peace plan?'

'Smart ass.'

'Hypocrite! Hypocrisy's half the problem with this
country. I've told you before, I'm getting out of here as
fast as I can.'

'Off you go then – run away!'

'I'm
not
running away.'

'Aye, y'are. Want to know why? 'Cos you're scared,
Zee – scared of your own family!'

Anger made her shake all over. The sort of anger that
comes with the awful realisation that someone you've
allowed to get close knows you better than you know
yourself.

'I have to leave Ireland,' she shouted at him, 'I have to!'

How else could she get away from Gary's anger and
Sue's tears? Free herself from the men stamping up and
down in orange sashes, clinging to dates in history
books. Or be free of the gunmen who had murdered her
dad, men who were walking the same streets as her?
Sitting, maybe, at the very next table? Why
should
she
live with any of it? How could she bear to?

Suddenly Conor was right there, his arms around her.
Only then did she realise she was crying.

'Zee, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. You're the
bravest person I know.' His voice was shaking. 'Why are
we arguing? I've been looking forward to tonight for so
long. I'm so
so
sorry.'

'Me too.' She gulped back the tears. 'Can't we just
carry on how we were?'

'I wasn't planning on dragging you off to bedsit land
yet. It's just—' He broke off and kissed her tenderly. 'For
a moment, I caught a wee glimpse of how things could be
– one day. Is a shared mantelpiece too much to hope for?'
She gazed at him through her tears. Life had been so
straightforward two months ago. She had known exactly
what she wanted then.

'Oh, Con,' she whispered, 'why did I have to fall for
you?'