“I don’t really know Grace anymore,” Maddy said to Cath. “She’s so secretive.”
“Maybe it’s all a front,” said Cath. “Maybe her life’s just empty and sad.”
Maddy didn’t believe this. She saw the way boys acted round Grace. But if Grace did have a boyfriend, no one knew his name.
The change had begun when they all moved up to their senior school at the age of eleven. Grace’s family had taken her away for two years. When she came back she was older, more sophisticated, more remote.
“What you need,” said Grace to Maddy as they talked about the curious immaturity of boys, “is an older boyfriend.”
“How much older?”
“Five years minimum.”
“Five years! I don’t know anyone that old.”
“They exist,” said Grace. “And they like us young.”
“You, maybe,” said Cath.
Cath was the opposite of Grace in every way. Cath wasn’t at all pretty. Quite why she wasn’t pretty was hard to say. There was nothing obviously wrong with her face.
“I’ve got eyes in the same place as you,” Cath would say, “and my nose is the same length, and my mouth’s the same.” They had actually measured each other’s features with a ruler. “I don’t see where I’ve gone wrong. It doesn’t seem fair. Just a few millimeters here and there and you end up looking like a witch.”
“You do not look like a witch.”
“And no one loves you and you die alone.”
“The man who loves you will love you for your true qualities.”
“Like I’ll love him for his dog and his white stick.”
“Come on, Cath.”
“What true qualities? Deep down I’m bitter and twisted.”
“Okay,” said Maddy. “You’ll just have to be amazing in bed.”
“Now you’re talking. Once the lights are out they won’t know the difference.”
They returned to Grace’s theory of natural selection.
“Since when have you been out with anyone five years older?”
“I didn’t say I had,” replied Grace.
“So you’re just making it all up as you go along.”
“Sure,” said Grace. “I’ve no experience at all. I don’t know anything. I just say the first thing that comes into my pretty little head.”
After that they believed her, of course. They’d never seen Grace with an older man. But then, they’d never seen Grace with any kind of boyfriend. Her love life happened somewhere else.
The low grade of available boys wasn’t Maddy’s only problem when it came to love. She was dissatisfied with her own character. It seemed to her that she was essentially passive. Her natural instinct was always to please others. She rarely made demands of her own and hated taking risks.
Cath agreed.
“You’re just too nice, Maddy. You should hate more people.”
“I don’t want to hate people. I just want to do things for myself.”
“It comes to the same thing. The minute you put yourself first, they stop liking you. Then you either cave in and go back to being nice, or you say fuck ’em all.”
“I want to be somewhere in the middle. Friendly but decisive.”
“There’s no middle, sweetie. It’s rule or be ruled out there. You have to come out fighting.”
She punched imaginary enemies with her fists.
“I’ve never hit anyone in my life.”
“There’s your problem. You need more aggression.”
Maddy half agreed with this diagnosis. She lacked aggression. But it wasn’t the power to biff people she sought: she wanted to take control of her life.
She wanted to fall in love.
So as the new school year was about to begin, she told Cath, “I’ve decided to fall in love.”
Announcing her decision to Cath didn’t amount to an action in itself, but it was a start. It shifted her expectations. Instead of sitting round waiting for something to happen, she would make things happen herself.
If she was to fall in love it would have to be with someone she admired; someone older and more experienced. Grace was partly right. Older, but not five years older. Maybe one year older.
Someone like Joe Finnigan.
As soon as she formed the idea in her head she knew it was a no-hoper. Joe already had a girlfriend, Gemma Page, one of the prettiest girls in the school. But Gemma was dull and stupid, and school relationships never lasted long; and Joe had smiled at Maddy and looked at her in a way that implied he was interested in her. Or was she just imagining that?
Joe was attractive in just the kind of way that Maddy liked. He was clever enough, and sophisticated without being showy. If she was attracted to him maybe that meant that he was attracted to her.
Or maybe she was away in fantasy land.
She could hear Cath’s voice in her head, the voice of reality. Yes, of course it was a fantasy. But Maddy hadn’t had a real fantasy for a long time. And no one need ever know. It was like a secret game she could play with herself: adoring Joe Finnigan. It could be quite exciting in its way.
This is the first boy I’ve ever felt excited about.
That thought alone was exciting. Maddy wanted to be loved, just like everyone else, but there was something else she wanted almost as much. She wanted to love. She wanted to yearn and pine and feel a prickly feeling all over her skin when her loved one was near. She was tired of laughing at the boys, even though they were ridiculous. She wanted a boy to treasure.
It can be practice, she thought. Practice in falling in love. It’s just a matter of taking control of my life.
That night, alone in her room, she opened her laptop and logged on to MSN. Cath was online.
Guess what? she tapped out to Cath. I decided who to fall in love with.
Cath messaged back: So who’s the lucky boy?
No names. I’m superstitious.
So why tell me, bitch?
Can’t help it.
Call yourself a friend. I’ll never have a love life of my own. You owe me yours.
If anything happens I swear I’ll tell you.
Go get him, girl.
3
A deep meaningful conversation
On the first day of term it was raining. The rain fell all through the day. Maddy’s English teacher, Paul Pico, announced to his class that there was to be a drama production—a comedy—for the end of term. It was to be Hay Fever, by Noël Coward. Any sixth-formers could audition. There were nine parts: four male and five female. The established actors in the Upper Sixth would have the best chance of getting parts, but not all would apply.
“They have entered the valley of the shadow of death,” Mr. Pico said. “The eclipse of sunshine and freedom and joy, otherwise known as A-levels.”
Mr. Pico talked like that. He was a small, neat man of no known age or nationality, with thick-lensed spectacles and a bow tie. Because his name sounded Spanish he was known throughout the school as “Pablo.” Maddy liked his classes, and as far as she could tell, Mr. Pico approved of her in return.
Maddy thought perhaps she should audition for the play. She asked her teacher’s advice.
“I’ve not acted before,” she said. “Would I have a chance?”
“Certainly,” said Mr. Pico. “Take a look at the part of Jackie.”
Grace noticed Maddy talking to the teacher and guessed the reason.
“You going to try for this play, Mad?”
“I might,” said Maddy. “Just for fun.”
“I didn’t know you liked acting.”
“I don’t know if I do yet. Anyway, I don’t expect I’ll get a part.”
“School plays are crap.”
Typical Grace. She spoke her damning verdict without energy, as if she was merely repeating a well-known fact.
“They’re supposed to be a hoot if you’re in them,” said Maddy.
“A hoot?”
“Fuck you too, Grace.”
Grace smil
ed her mischievous smile that said, “Yes, I know, I can be a bitch.”
“Okay, why not? Maybe you’ll be a star.”
Maddy did not expect to become a star. Her hopes lay altogether in another direction. Joe Finnigan liked acting and had had parts in many of the school plays. This was his big exam year and he might not audition, which would normally have been enough to make Maddy give up and do nothing. But this was the new Maddy, the Maddy who took decisions, the Maddy who had determined to put herself out there.
She found a copy of the play in the school library and took it home to read. Jackie turned out to be one of the smallest parts, for a girl who was described as “small and shingled, with an ingenuous manner.” Maddy looked up “ingenuous.” It meant “innocent, artless.” In the play Jackie emerged as timid, naïve, and not at all attractive. The main female parts called for beautiful and spirited performers. For a few moments Maddy was annoyed that Mr. Pico saw her as mousy little Jackie, but then she reflected that at least it would mean no one else would want the part.
She retreated to the cushion room in the shop to learn a page of Jackie’s lines off by heart. She meant to impress Mr. Pico with her commitment, if nothing else.
Here her sister tracked her down.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. Why don’t you answer your phone?”
“I’ve got work to do.”
Imo took the book from Maddy’s hands.
“Hay Fever? What on earth are you reading that for?”
“It’s being done at school. I thought I’d audition.”
“But you can’t act.”
“How do you know?”
“Well,” said Imo, “I’ve never seen you act.”
She settled down beside Maddy on the bed.
“I’ve come for a DMC.”
This meant a Deep Meaningful Conversation, which for Imo could only be a conversation about her love life. Maddy didn’t mind. She regarded Imo as a kind of crash-test dummy for her own future adventures.
“It’s Alex,” Imo said. “I’ve decided we’d get on better if we saw less of each other.”
“You mean you want to dump him.”
“No. I just want to cool things down a bit.”
“Have you told him?”
“I’ve dropped great big hints. But he doesn’t get it.”
“Then I suppose you’re going to have to actually tell him, Imo. You know, using words. Aloud.”
Imo didn’t hear this. She was working her way towards making some kind of demand on her sister, as Maddy well knew. This was not a dialogue. It was a preamble.
“Don’t you think Alex is quite a needy person?” she said.
“I like Alex.”
“Yes, but he’s needy, isn’t he? He’s always hanging around.”
“Well, he is your boyfriend, Imo. Or he thinks he is.”
“Yes, but we don’t have to be together all the time. I mean, you run out of things to say. And anyway, he should be more—oh, I don’t know—more forceful.”
“What’s he supposed to do? Hit you?”
“No. Just know what he wants more. All he ever wants to do is what I want.”
“But you really like getting what you want, Imo.”
“Yes, I know. But it’s different with a boyfriend. You’ll find out one day. You want them to … to …”
“To be mean.”
“No. Just not to want you too much.”
“I wouldn’t. I’d want mine to want me as much as anyone can want anyone. I’d want mine to worship me.”
“Oh, Mad.” Imo smiled at her younger sister. “I keep forgetting you’re so young.”
This was code for lack of sexual experience. Once you started having sex, apparently, everything looked quite different.
“So anyway. You’ve decided to dump him.”
“I don’t dump people. That sounds horrible. People aren’t garbarge bags. I really like Alex. I just want to give us both a bit more space.”
“He won’t like that.”
“It all depends on how it’s done. If he decides it for himself he’ll be fine about it.”
“Why would he decide it for himself?”
“I thought maybe you could put the idea into his head.”
So there it was. Imo wanted Maddy to do her dirty work.
“You could find a moment to talk to him alone. You could say how you know me well, and how I like to be given space. You could tell him how if I feel too crowded I react badly. You could—”
“No. I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Tell him yourself, Imo.”
“But I don’t want to hurt him.”
“You want to dump him but have him go on liking you.”
Imo wrinkled her pretty brow and considered this, with an air of giving the notion a fair hearing.
“I don’t see there’s anything wrong with that.”
“It’s cheating.”
“Cheating? How’s it cheating?”
“I don’t know, but it is.”
“All you have to do is give him a hint. I’d do it for you.”
Maddy sighed. She knew in the end she’d agree. She always did.
“Must I?”
“You said you liked him. And boys are so much happier if they think they’re the ones making the decisions.”
“I suppose there’s someone new, then.”
“No.”
“Poor old Alex.”
“Not yet.”
“Do I know him?”
“I’m not telling. So you’ll talk to Alex?”
“You owe me.”
“Love you.”
Imo kissed her and left.
When Maddy got back to the house her mother looked up from her paperwork with a sigh. She was always sighing these days.
“You’re soaked, darling.”
“Well, it is raining.”
“Have you turned out the lights and reset the alarm?”
“Yes, Mum. I always do.”
“I don’t know why you can’t do your reading here.”
“I was reading aloud. I’m learning lines. It’s for a school play.”
“That’s a new one. Acting.”
“I thought it might be fun. I probably won’t get a part. At least I’ll have a better chance if I’m prepared.”
“Surely the others will prepare too?”
“Haven’t you noticed, Mum? Most people don’t do things. And anyway, why always expect the worst?”
Mrs. Fisher sighed again.
“You’re quite right. I really don’t know why I worry so much about everything. It’s not as if it helps.”
“Oh, Mum.”
Maddy leant over her as she sat at the table, putting her arms round her and kissing the side of her face.
“What are you worrying about now?”
“Oh, just stupid things. Money as usual. And cell phones.”
“Cell phones!”
“What if they send out waves that damage your brain? You really mustn’t talk too long on your phone, Mad.”
The house phone rang.
“That’ll be Dad.”
Maddy’s father was in Shanghai. Mrs. Fisher checked the time as she picked up the phone.
“Hello, darling. Up early. Quick word with Maddy.”
Maddy took the phone.
“Hi, Dad.”
From far away came his tired voice. He spent weeks on these trips, haggling with manufacturers in languages he didn’t understand.
“Hello, sweetheart. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“Just going now. When are you coming home?”
“A couple of weeks or so. Maybe more. I’m changing suppliers. It’s all an endless hassle. How are you? Back at school?”
“Just started today.”
“What’s the news in Maddyland?”
“No news. I’m going to try and get a part in a school play, but I probably won’t. All the teachers are telling us this year it get
s serious and we have to work twice as hard.”
She chattered on about nothing much for a while, knowing he liked to feel in touch, and then handed the phone back to her mother. It would never have occurred to Maddy to talk to either of them about what was really filling her waking hours. Her decision to fall in love was too private, and as yet too fragile.
4
The boy with the sex manual
By Monday morning the rain of the last few days had blown away and the sun shone out of a clear autumn sky. The vapor trails of high-flying jets were slowly disintegrating, forming long streamers of transparent cloud against the blue. It was a day of cool, bright air. A day of new beginnings.
Maddy made her way to the Upper Library where the auditions were to be held for the play. She was one of the first to arrive. She settled down to wait, her copy of the play in her hand, glancing up from time to time to see if Joe Finnigan had entered the room.
To her surprise the next person to show up was Grace.
“Grace! What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, sugar.”
“But you think school plays are crap.”
“You talked me into it. Here I am.”
Maddy frowned. She felt invaded. Why should Grace take over here as well?
“You want me to go away?” said Grace.
“No, of course not. I just didn’t think acting was your thing.”
“I expect it isn’t. We’ll find out, won’t we?”
“Have you read the play?”
“I tried. I thought it was pretty stupid, to be honest.”
The boys waiting in the group threw covert glances at Grace. She seemed not to notice. As for Joe Finnigan, it began to look as if he wasn’t going to show up. Then at exactly the appointed time he came sauntering in, followed by Gemma Page.
Maddy watched them together, keen to learn from Joe’s behavior how close he was to Gemma. The answer seemed to be, not close at all. He paid her no attention whatsoever. His easy, roving gaze lit upon Maddy and he gave her a smile of recognition. He mouthed to her across the room, “How’s Cyril?” She grinned and nodded back like a total fool, but she was pleased.