‘That’s not what I was doing.’ His frown deepened.
‘No? Check out my shirt, then,’ I raged. ‘What the hell has got into you? In Fipoli you were kind and considerate and just the opposite of what you are now.’ How could he treat me like that? The lump in my throat was making it hard to breathe.
‘I . . . I’m sorry.’ Andrew’s eyes were completely back to normal. ‘I don’t know what happened . . . Oh God, I’m so sorry, Jayna.’
Now that the adrenalin was beginning to dissipate in my body, I felt sick and tearful. One touch, one more word, and I’d lose it completely. I felt rather than saw Andrew get off his side of the bed to walk around to where I was sitting. He sat down next to me and tried to hug me. I immediately pulled away from him.
‘Don’t touch me,’ I ordered, still unable to look at him.
‘Jayna, I’m really sorry. I promise, it’ll never happen again,’ he said unhappily.
I risked a glance at him. His lips were turned down, his eyes shone with remorse. My Andrew was back. The cold-eyed stranger who’d frightened me was nowhere to be seen.
‘What was that all about?’ I whispered.
‘I . . . I lost who we were . . . are, just for a moment,’ said Andrew. The confusion in his voice indicated he was still trying to figure out what had happened for himself. ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me?’
After a moment, I nodded. I needed him. Andrew opened his arms, I moved closer and wrapped my arms round his neck. His arms stole round my waist. And this was what I wanted, like our first day in Fipoli, which had been so perfect – until we’d met Julius.
‘Let me make love to you,’ Andrew whispered. ‘I’ll make it good, for both of us.’
‘Andrew, are you kidding? I’m not in the mood now.’
He sat back, his expression guarded. ‘Why not?’
‘Well, your caveman impersonation didn’t help. And a lot has happened today, Andy. I can’t just pretend everything is the same as it was before. I need time.’
‘For once in your life, can’t you just do something and sod the consequences?’ he snapped.
‘I thought I’d just done that,’ I shot back.
Silence.
‘Sorry,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll stop pushing. It’s just that . . . that I do love you, Jayna.’
‘I know. I know.’
But for the first time I found myself wondering if love was really enough. Would what we felt for each other really be strong enough, deep enough, to make this work? I didn’t know – and that scared me.
‘Andrew, are you sure you want us to live together?’
‘We can’t afford to live apart.’
‘I guess not.’
Living with my boyfriend. Sleeping with my boyfriend. I was only seventeen, for goodness’ sake. Far too young to feel this old. Far too old to feel this helpless, this out of control.
‘Where shall we live? It’s not like we can go flat-hunting or get a mortgage or anything, is it?’
‘We’ll find something.’ Andrew shrugged. ‘Maybe a house that’s been abandoned or isn’t being used. There are plenty of decent empty places in London.’
‘But the council and private landlords lock them up. They even brick up the doors and windows.’
‘So much the better. We can open a top-floor window to get in and out by that means and the other bricked-up doors and windows will keep everything and everyone else out,’ said Andrew.
‘You make it all sound so simple.’
‘It is. You’re the one who says that things are only difficult if that’s the way you make them.’
I stared into space. I’d got that saying from my dad, and my face set into the usual unhappy frown that appeared whenever I thought of Dad. When he’d found out just how ill he was, he left us. Disappeared. Some stupid reason written in a letter. Justifications delivered by phone a few weeks later. Something about not wanting to be a burden to us, not wanting us to watch him die.
How I wish he hadn’t done it. All those months lost. Months when we could have been together, and weren’t. Dad had come back, eventually, after Mum tracked him down, but we’d only had two months, one week and nine hours together after that. I was only eleven years old, and I hadn’t understood at all. For years after his death I’d been angry with him for taking what I considered the coward’s way out. It’d taken me too long to realize he’d done what he considered the brave thing at an incredibly high cost to himself, and that he really had loved us. Very much.
But still it hurt.
‘Jayna, it’s OK.’ Andrew smiled – a smile that said he understood. I smiled back gratefully. The Andrew I’d fallen in love with was still in there, somewhere. And I hadn’t changed. Not the real me. This new thing was something I could deal with. Given time, I could handle it, control it. We both could. It didn’t have to make that much difference. Not to the real us.
‘We will make this work, won’t we, Andrew?’ I said fiercely.
‘Of course we will. We can do anything. Don’t you know that?’
I laughed – a strange, almost forgotten sound.
‘We’ll start looking for a place from tomorrow, and we’ll find one,’ said Andrew.
‘Which leaves another big question,’ I pointed out. ‘What’re we going to tell our parents?’
‘Yeah, I know. I was thinking about that too,’ he said sombrely.
‘They’re bound to want to see our new house, wherever it is.’
‘They can’t see it if we don’t give them the address.’
I sighed again, long and hard. Mum would be so hurt. How could I even begin to explain? Sorry, Mum, I can’t live with you any more. But don’t ask me where I’m going. I can’t tell you. I could just see her face. A storm was going to erupt over that one.
‘And what do we do for money?’ I asked.
‘I’ve got some saved.’
‘So have I, but it won’t last for ever. We move one problem out of the way, only to be blocked by two more.’
‘We’ll manage. We just take it one day at a time.’
‘That’s not my style. You’re the “go with the flow” person. I like to plan my whole year in advance.’
‘Well, you can’t do that any more. They say couples who are close start to look and act like each other the longer they stay together. Consider this the beginning of that process,’ Andrew teased.
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t in a teasing mood. We sat in silence for a while.
‘Andrew . . . hold me,’ I whispered at last. ‘Hold me tight.’
We lay down on top of the bed and cuddled up, holding each other as if to let go for even a moment would be to let go for ever.
27
OVER THE NEXT few days, I became slowly aware of how much my body was changing. Each evening as the sun set, Andrew and I woke up, had a shower, and then went out hunting. But Andrew began to get on my nerves by announcing each time before we left, ‘I feel the need, the need to feed!’
He thought it was dead funny.
I could take very little real food. I’d tried to go without blood, but had been reduced to a wreck by the excruciating pain racking my body as a result. I didn’t try again. And by the third night, I had stopped feeling disgusted with myself. It hadn’t taken very long.
But not just that; after each feed I felt weird – strong and alert and powerful. It was as if there was nothing in the world I couldn’t do. I heard conversations that were taking place streets away. I ran faster, jumped higher, knew I was tougher. It felt so strange, like growing away, apart, from everyone else. I was different. We were different. It felt like being a superhero. Invincible. And the feeling was sneakily, dangerously seductive.
Our second night together Andrew and I made love. Except that when we came together, it wasn’t like it’d been before. It was still passionate, but the tenderness had been replaced by something else, something more fierce, more primal – and I missed the gentleness. Andrew kept saying that we now had so much, but I woul
d have swapped it all for one day of how things used to be.
Not Andrew, though. With each passing hour, he grew more and more exultant, more contemptuous of what we had been before.
I wondered where it would end.
28
‘TEEGAN, EITHER EAT it or leave it but don’t play around with it.’
I smiled at Mum’s words. I was at the end of our street, my whole body focused on our house. Mum and Teegan had finally come home and I couldn’t wait to see them. I’d missed Mum so much – I’d even missed my scabby sister! I started to walk faster. After one night in Andrew’s attic, already I longed for a proper bed with proper cotton sheets instead of a sleeping bag in a dusty, musty attic. We hadn’t found a permanent place to stay yet. And the prospect of living indefinitely in the Harrison house filled me with dread. OK, they didn’t know that Andrew and I were there – yet – but surely it was only a matter of time until they discovered our secret? We’d tried house-hunting for a suitable location, but so far, no luck.
And as for the rest of our existence . . . I placed a hot hand to my even hotter cheeks. On leaving Andrew’s attic tonight, we’d both gone to a nearby waste ground and fed on a feral cat. No more pets, I’d insisted.
‘So now we can both feel better about what we have to do, because really we’re helping out the RSPCA!’ Andrew scoffed, making me laugh reluctantly.
I’d wanted to feed before seeing Mum. My skin had been more ashen-grey than brown before I fed, as if I’d soaked in the bath for a long time and not applied moisturiser to my skin afterwards. I knew Mum would pick up on something like that in a second.
‘Mum, what time is Jayna coming home?’ I heard Teegan ask. I walked faster still.
‘Don’t know, love. All her note said was that she’d see us sometime this evening.’
Now I could see that the downstairs lights were on. They looked so welcoming.
‘Where is she now?’ asked Teegan.
I opened our gate and headed towards the front door.
‘She didn’t say,’ Mum replied.
I opened the door with my key. ‘Mum, Teegan, I’m home.’
Mum came out of the living room into the hall. I ran to her and hugged her, careful not to squeeze too tightly. Surprised at my enthusiasm, she hugged me back.
‘I missed you, Mum.’ I turned and looked at my sister. ‘And you, ratbag!’
‘Ratbag yourself!’ Teegan wrinkled up her nose.
I walked over to Teegan and gave her a hug as well. I had more than enough hugs to go round. Amazing what a little absence could do. ‘So how was the Lake District? I want to hear all about it.’ One arm linked with Mum’s, I put the other over Teegan’s shoulder as we all went back into the living room. They thought I didn’t catch the look that passed between them, but I did.
‘It was OK. It would’ve been better if you’d been with us, though,’ said my sister.
‘Don’t be nice to me, Teegan – I’m not used to it.’ I grinned at her.
We all sat down around the table. Teegan and Mum were in the middle of eating chicken Kiev, peas and baked potatoes for dinner.
‘I didn’t know what time you’d be back but I made plenty,’ said Mum. ‘Help yourself. It’s in the oven.’
I stared at the chicken on their plates and my insides felt as though they were being whisked. If I didn’t move fast, I’d be violently sick all over the place.
‘You didn’t have to do that. I’m meeting Andrew in the Burger Bar later,’ I mumbled.
‘Oh, I see.’ Mum spoke quietly.
Opening my mouth had been a mistake. The smell of the garlic in the chicken Kiev filled my mouth and my nose and my eyes, making them water. I scrambled to my feet and went to sit in one of the armchairs, furthest away from the smell. When I looked up, Mum was frowning at me.
‘Jayna . . .’
‘So, tell me about the Lake District,’ I said, changing the subject quickly.
Teegan filled the gap and immediately started wittering. I could have kissed her!
We spent the next hour talking about their holiday. They asked me about mine. I gave edited highlights. Once or twice I caught Mum looking at me, a quizzical look on her face. She knew something wasn’t quite right – I could never fool her for very long. After I’d helped load the dishwasher, we sat down to watch TV. It was so peaceful, so comfortable – but it couldn’t last.
‘So where have you been today, Jayna?’ Mum asked quietly.
‘Actually, I’ve been asleep for most of today.’ At least that was the truth.
‘Asleep where?’
‘At Andrew’s house. In a spare room.’
‘During the day?’ Mum’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘That’s not like you. You’re not ill, are you? And you have a perfectly good bed right here. So why sleep elsewhere?’
I shrugged, desperately trying to come up with some plausible answer to her question and failing miserably.
‘Something’s the matter,’ said Mum. ‘You’re looking a bit peaky.’
‘Mum, you’re fussing.’ Stupidly, I risked a quick glance in her direction.
A dawning light appeared in her eyes. ‘Teegan, could you get me a glass of orange juice?’ she said, never taking her eyes off me.
‘But you’ve got a cup of tea by your hand,’ protested Teegan.
‘Then get one for yourself.’
‘But I don’t want one.’
‘Teegan . . .’
‘Oh, all right!’ Teegan stood up, muttering. ‘I bet you two are going to talk about boys and sex again! Why do I always get booted out at the good bits?’
‘And don’t listen at the door, either,’ Mum called out as Teegan left the room.
‘OK, Mum, spit it out.’
Mum came over to sit next to me. ‘Jayna, are you pregnant?’
Shocked, I stared at her. ‘No, I am not! Give us a chance!’
There’d been no sex since we’d moved to Andrew’s house. No way was I going to risk making any kind of noise in the Harrisons’ attic.
‘Then what’s wrong with you?’
I sought frantically for something to say. Something believable.
‘It’s got something to do with Andrew, hasn’t it? Has something happened between the two of you?’
I shook my head.
‘You’re lying,’ Mum said instantly. ‘I can always tell when you’re lying. Something’s wrong. And if you don’t tell me the truth, I’m going to march straight round to Andrew’s house and get the explanation from him.’
‘You wouldn’t!’ I said, appalled. ‘You wouldn’t show me up like that.’
‘In a hot New York second!’ Mum replied.
It usually made me laugh when she said that. Not this time, though. Not this time.
‘Listen, Mum, you wouldn’t believe the truth if I told you,’ I said desperately.
‘Try me.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Well, if you really want to know, Andrew was bitten at a party in Fipoli and he turned into a . . . a vampire, and then he bit me and now I’m the same. That’s why I look a bit funny-peculiar.’
Mum’s face became a mask. She sat up straighter, her lips thinned as she regarded me. ‘You’re not amusing, Jayna,’ she said crossly. ‘Right, then, I get the point. You’re seventeen and you’re a woman, free to come and go as you please. And I should mind my own business. After all, I’m only your mother.’
‘Mum, please . . .’ I tried to touch her arm but she shrugged away from me.
That stung.
‘From now on I’ll try to stay out of your life.’ Her voice dripped with frost.
‘I don’t want you to stay out of my life. You’re my mum,’ I said impatiently.
‘Then why don’t you treat me like your mother and start acting like a daughter!’
That one hurt.
Silently, I counted to ten, my fingers outstretched. ‘Mum, I don’t want an argument. I really don’t.’ I sighed. ‘And I’m fine, I promise.’
‘We haven’t even been back a day yet and already everybody’s arguing. I’m sick of this.’ Teegan was standing in the doorway, close to tears. How long had she been there?
I looked at Mum. She looked at me.
‘Sorry, Teegan. I’m sorry, Mum. Can’t we . . . can’t we just . . .’
‘I’m sorry you ever set eyes on Andrew Harrison,’ Mum mumbled.
I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did. ‘Why don’t you like him?’ I asked unhappily.
‘I’ve got nothing against Andrew—’ Mum began.
‘But? There was a “but” at the end of that.’
‘But I’ve said too much already. As has been pointed out, it’s none of my business.’
‘Please, Mum. Why don’t you like him?’
‘Jayna, I do like Andrew.’ She sighed. ‘I like him because he’s obviously crazy about you.’
‘But?’
‘But you’re seventeen and he’s only a few months older and . . .’ She raised a hand when I would have interrupted. ‘And no matter what you say, that is still too young to think about committing yourself to one person.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you don’t know anything. You haven’t done anything, you haven’t seen anything of the world. If you get too serious now, you might regret it later. Andrew is very intense. That kind of intensity in someone so young is . . . not healthy. I just want to advise you, advise both of you, to slow down.’
For the very first time, I really heard what she was saying. ‘What makes you think that Andrew and I are getting too serious?’ I asked, lowering my gaze.
‘I’ve got eyes. I can see how you feel about Andrew and it’s no secret how he feels about you. Andrew feels things very deeply.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
Mum shook her head. ‘I know you, Jayna. And I think I know Andrew. He wants to do new things, see new places, explore the world.’
‘So do I.’
‘Yes, but Andrew is happiest when he doesn’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And when he wants something, he strikes me as the kind of person who wouldn’t let anything or anyone get in his way. Don’t tell me you’re the same, because you’re not,’ Mum continued quickly when I would have interrupted her. ‘I doubt if you could walk to the bottom of our garden without mapping out your route back first and making sure everyone was OK with your decision.’