Жаклин Уилсон: Girls In Love

So , there was all the usual stuff but not a single line about a Liam. I can’t help feeling outraged. Nadine and I always tell each other everything . ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I say. My voice cracks, almost as if I’m going to start crying.

‘I’ve only just met him,’ says Nadine, stretching her arm out to admire her completed love-token tattoo.

‘Ah!’ says Magda, her eyebrows arching. ‘So he’s just this guy you’ve seen around, right? Not an actual boyfriend?’

‘An “I wish” boyfriend,’ I say, cheering up considerably, getting all set to tell them about the blond guy I saw coming to school this morning.

‘No, no. Liam and I went out together Saturday night,’ says Nadine. ‘We met in Tower Records that morning. I was sorting through the indie section and he was too, and we were both looking for the same band and there was just the one CD so he said I could have it.’

‘And then he asked you out, just like that?’ I say incredulously.

‘Well . . . we chatted a bit. He did. I couldn’t think of a thing to say, actually. I was just standing there dying, wishing I could come out with something, anything . Then he started asking me about this other group who had a gig at the Wily Fox that night and he said did I want to go. So I said yes. Though I’ve never been to the Wily Fox. Well, any pub. You know my mum and dad, they’d go crazy if they ever found out, so when I got back I said you’d got back from the cottage early, Ellie, and we were both going round to Magda’s for this little party, and then your dad was going to take me home. I had to say that, because I guessed I’d be back really late from the Wily Fox. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘So you went there on your own?’ I say, astonished. I still can’t believe it. Nadine’s always so quiet. She generally stays shut up in her bedroom playing her loopy music night after night. She never goes anywhere.

‘And he turned up OK, this Liam?’ says Magda.

‘I didn’t think he would. I was so scared of going in there by myself. I was sure they’d chuck me out for being under age,’ says Nadine.

‘Why didn’t you phone me? I’d have come with you,’ says Magda.

‘Yes, but it might have put him off. Or he might have liked you better than me,’ says Nadine.

Magda nods.

‘No, I thought I’d just put my head round the door and have a look and then I could always run home if I wanted. But he was there before me and he paid for us to go into the back room where the band were playing and then he took me home after. Well, to the end of the road. I didn’t dare let him come further in case my mum and dad saw. And then I’m seeing him again next Saturday so can I say I’m spending it with you, Ellie?’

‘Yeah. Sure,’ I say, still stunned.

‘So what’s he like ?’ says Magda.

‘Oh, he’s really cool. Dark hair, moody dark eyes, hip clothes.’

‘Did you tell him how old you are?’ I ask.

‘Not at first. I made out I was fifteen. And he said “Nearly old enough”,’ says Nadine, giggling.

‘Oh, God,’ says Magda.

‘Yeah, OK, but later I was talking about you two, and I said I’d been friends with Ellie for ever and friends with Magda the two years we’d been in secondary school, and then I realized what I’d said. And Liam twigged – but he just teased me a bit. He doesn’t mind that I’m only thirteen. Well, nearly fourteen. He says I act old for my age, actually.’

‘I see,’ says Magda. ‘So. Did you snog?’

‘Yes. Lots.’

‘Did he open his mouth?’

‘Of course,’ says Nadine. ‘He’s a truly great kisser.’

My own mouth is open. Nadine and I have frequently discussed French kissing and we both thought it a squirmily revolting idea, someone else’s sluggy tongue slithering around your fillings.

‘You said—’ I start.

Nadine giggles. ‘Yes, but it’s different with Liam.’

‘It’s great, isn’t it?’ says Magda, who has given us frequent accounts of her own amorous encounters.

Nadine is looking at me almost pityingly. ‘You’ll see, Ellie,’ she says. ‘When you get a proper boyfriend of your own.’

That’s it.

My mouth stays open and starts talking. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got a boyfriend,’ I say, before I can stop myself.

Nadine stares at me.

Magda stares at me.

It’s like I’ve nipped out around my glasses and I’m staring at me too.

What have I just said???

What am I doing?

How come I started this?

But I can’t stop now . . .

I hear this voice going on about a boy on holiday in Wales. A boy I kept seeing – but I didn’t get a chance to talk to him until we met up in a romantic ruined castle one wild and windy day. ‘We literally fell into each other’s arms!’ I say.

Well, it’s sort of true.

I tell them he’s called Dan. They immediately ask how old he is.

‘He’s not as old as your Liam, Nad,’ I say.

That’s true too.

‘So how old is he?’ Magda insists.

‘He’s . . . fifteen,’ I say.

He will be, in three years’ time.

‘What does he look like? Is he dishy? What sort of clothes does he wear?’ Magda persists.

I abandon all attempt at truth. ‘He’s very good looking. Blond. His hair’s lovely, it sort of comes forward in a wavy fringe, just a little bit tousled. He’s got dark eyes, a really intense brown. He’s got this way of looking at you . . . He’s just a real dream. His clothes are very casual, nothing too posey. Jeans, sweatshirt – still, that’s just what he was wearing on holiday. It’s so unfair, we didn’t meet up properly until right at the end, and yet somehow when we started talking it was like we’d known each other for ever, you know?’

‘Did he kiss you?’ Nadine asks.

‘We didn’t get a chance to kiss, worst luck. We were with my stupid family nearly all the time. We did manage to steal off together at a picnic, but just as Dan was getting really romantic, Eggs came chasing over to us and started pestering us and that was it! Honestly! ’

‘What are you getting all passionate about, Eleanor?’

Oh, God, it’s Mrs Henderson in her tracksuit, jogging off to the gym.

I look down at my lap, going all pink, trying desperately hard not to giggle.

‘Her boyfriend!’ says Magda.

‘Surprise, surprise!’ says Mrs Henderson. She sighs. ‘You girls seem to discuss little else. You’ve all got one-track minds. Many thousands of determined intelligent women fought battles throughout this century to broaden your horizons, and yet you’d sooner sit there babbling about boys than concentrate on your all-round education.’

‘You said it, Mrs Henderson,’ says Magda. Unwisely.

‘Well, you three are going to have to curtail your cosy little chat and do a detention tomorrow, because you’ve been so carried away by your enthralling conversation that you’ve failed to notice the bell for afternoon school went five minutes ago. Now get to your lessons at once !’

We jump to it. We get told off all over again when we get to English. It isn’t fair. I quite like English. It’s about the only thing I’m any good at, apart from Art, but now Mrs Madley glares at us and goes on and on and we get divided up and I have to sit right at the front.