Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,120

down the ceiling, banged away at the window frame, and hauled bags of plaster up the stairs.

While I was pleased that my father’s decision to invite Ted to stay with us had energized my mother, I wasn’t convinced that this was my father’s best plan. Ted, after all, was not known for his stabilizing influence on anyone. And, after hearing Mabel’s anecdote about his stealing her neighbor’s television, I wondered if having him here was really worth the risk. For the first time, I found some consolation in the fact that our house was in the middle of nowhere, with no neighbors nearby at all. Perhaps without those kinds of temptations Ted would behave himself. I decided to cling firmly to this flimsy hope.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

DURING THE REST OF THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS, WHILE MY MOTHER was consumed with fixing up the spare bedroom, I was equally consumed by a need to write my letters to Amanda. Fueled now by my certainty that she returned my feelings, I felt compelled to compose ever-longer and more elaborate stories about our imagined adventures. Everything that I had been holding back spilled out onto the page. After all, if Amanda felt the same way that I did, I didn’t need to feel ashamed or guilty about anything I wrote. Even if we would have to hide our feelings from the rest of the world, together, secretly, we could revel in them. I would no longer worry that I was the only girl who was in love with another girl. By the time school started, I had almost filled my biscuit tin with letters and I’d tied them in a tight fat bundle, folded neatly and sorted in chronological order. Sometimes I’d pull them out and reread them, and sometimes I’d simply sit on my bed and hold them, as if their collective weight was proof of something solid, something I could rely on when everything else seemed in flux.

It was still dark when I awoke that first morning of the new term. When I peered out my window, the world below was silent, silvered and furred with frost. When I’d fallen asleep the night before, my mother had still been working in the spare bedroom, but now I could hear her snores along with my father’s. I was relieved to know that she was at least getting some sleep. As I made my way downstairs after washing and dressing, I heard the harsh ring of my father’s alarm clock and his angry muttering as he fumbled to turn it off. In the kitchen, I made tea and a big pan of porridge for both of us, but before my father had even made it downstairs I was out the door.

I was ridiculously early for the bus that morning, arriving in the village almost half an hour before it was due to arrive. Of course, I expected to be the first one there. No one else in their right mind would want to stand outside in such fearsome cold. So I was surprised when I turned the corner onto the high street and saw someone standing by the bus stop. I was utterly thrilled when, as I drew closer, I realized it was Amanda.

“Hiya, Jesse,” she called, giving me an enthusiastic wave.

“Hiya,” I said, my heart pounding as I neared.

“God, I’m glad you’re here,” she said as I reached the bus stop. “It’s bloody freezing this morning.” She gave a shudder and wrapped her arms about her. “But I wanted to see you before our Tracey comes.”

“You did?” My heart raced and my stomach flipped. It was as much as I could do to stop myself from throwing my arms around her neck.

“I just had to tell you something.” She stamped her feet, in part to keep herself warm, it seemed, and partly out of excitement. Her face, ablaze with the cold, was intensely animated. “But first you have to swear to keep it a secret.”

I knew that I’d been right. That kiss really had meant that she cared about me. What else would she want to talk to me about in secret? And why else would she brave this bone-chilling cold to make sure she could be alone with me?

“I won’t tell anybody,” I said.

“Not even Tracey.” She looked at me intently. “Especially not Tracey.”

“Especially not Tracey,” I said. Of course, I knew this was one thing I could never share with her.

Amanda frowned, studying my face for a moment, and then, apparently satisfied with