Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,87
trees across the street from us to the fields surrounding the village. Those that were fallow were covered in a sheen of white, but a nearby grassy meadow sparkled as the sun, lurking just above the horizon, caught on the frosted blades of grass as if they were jewels. “Cold, but pretty,” she said, shivering as she pushed her gloved hands into the pockets of her coat and shuffled closer to me.
“Yes,” I said, breathing in the scent of her perfume, sweet and almost overpowering against the stark, odorless cold.
“So, what lessons have you got today?” She knocked her hip against mine.
“Maths, history, English, and PE,” I recited. By now I knew my timetable by heart.
“You’ve got that Ms. Hastings for English, don’t you? I don’t have lessons with her, but I’ve heard Tracey moaning about her, complaining she’s a hippie and all that. What do you think of her?”
“She’s all right,” I said, trying my best to sound noncommittal. I didn’t want Amanda to think I liked a weirdo.
Amanda laughed. “Well, she might have got right up our Tracey’s nose, but she seems like a bloody breath of fresh air, you ask me.”
“You think so?” I was surprised to hear her say this, and more than a little pleased. Maybe it wasn’t such a dreadful thing after all to like a female teacher with big boots, shorn hair, and hippie clothes.
“Yeah. God, I wish I had her instead of Mr. Forrest. You should hear him, Jesse. Just the sound of his voice is enough to put me to sleep. And he’s always complaining about something. Come to think of it, he sounds a bit like our Tracey.” She laughed. “The only thing I haven’t heard her complain about is that idiot Greg Loomis.”
I smiled. “She does go on about him a bit, doesn’t she?”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “Non-bloody-stop. It’s Greg this, Greg that, Greg the other. Honestly, sometimes I don’t think she speaks one sentence without the word ‘Greg’ in it. She drives me mad. I expect she drives you a bit mad as well.”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “The worst thing is having to follow him around school all day, though.” I told Amanda about Tracey dragging me and the Debbies in search of Greg as he traveled from lesson to lesson.
Amanda barked out a laugh. “Bloody hell, she’s got it worse than I thought. And you, Jesse Bennett, have got the patience of a saint.” She pulled her hand out of her pocket and ruffled my hair. Her touch sent an immediate bolt of heat charging through my body. “So, how’s your dad’s house repairs coming along, then?”
I had told Amanda about my father’s efforts to repair the house. I had also confessed my frustration with his sporadic interest in this activity. “He’s finished the hallway, done the living room, and painted all the windows,” I said. “He’s working on the kitchen now.”
“That’s great.”
“I suppose so, but I don’t think our house will ever be as nice as yours.”
“Yeah, well,” she said, pulling her lips into a tight, flat line, “there’s a lot of things more important than appearances, Jesse.”
She said this with such heaviness that I was tempted to ask her if anything was bothering her. But the next moment she tugged her mouth into a smile. “So, Stan’s taking me for a trip on his bike this weekend,” she said, shuffling against me again. The weight of her body against mine made me want to lean all the way into her, so that there would be no space or cold air separating us at all. “Guess where we’re going.”
“Where?” I asked, trying to sound enthusiastic. “We’re going to Sheffield, to a Black Sabbath concert.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I know, I know. All that head-banging music’s not my cup of tea, either. But it’ll be great to get away. Of course,” she said, lowering her voice and looking warily down the street, “I haven’t told my dad. He doesn’t like me having a boyfriend. Doesn’t like me doing anything, really.” She shrugged. “He thinks I’m staying at a friend’s house this weekend. So does Tracey. Don’t tell her, will you, Jesse? She’ll only go and tell tales to my dad. And then there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her,” I said, feeling torn between pleasure at having Amanda confide in me and jealousy at the thought of Amanda clinging tightly to Stan along all those miles of road to Sheffield.