a scarce presence. He was slight in build, but tall, with watchful eyes and Susie’s same enviably thick hair, but much darker brown, like their dad’s.
He wasn’t unfriendly towards me, but neither was he friendly. He didn’t have many mates of his own and I’d hear Susie teasing him about it. Once I heard him reply: well you only have HER. She looks like a sad-eyed doll. One of the chubby-faced ones with a hair ribbon that are found in attics. I ditched my hair slide with the bow on it, after that.
In our nice suburb, I came from the scruffy end at the far side of it, living in a semi with a warring mum and dad. The Harts’ address was a spacious, 1930s detached house with a driveway, a garage, a well-tended front garden and a storm porch for wellies and brollies. Their street did parties with bunting for Royal weddings. My mum called the Royals parasites.
In that way that kids are aware of social castes, I vaguely assumed Finlay Hart, all of ten years old, thought me a little beneath.
‘SUSIE. IT’S FOR YOU,’ were his entire words of greeting when he happened to yank open the inner, then outer front door when I called.
One memory stands out, something I rarely think about.
The only thing I did with both Hart siblings was bike rides. In a time when children were still allowed to get on two-wheeled transport and piss off for vast stretches of time, we used to pack a picnic into the satchels on the back of the saddle and cycle out from our suburb to the countryside.
Sometimes we were a foursome, with a girl called Gloria on their street who had a voice like a foghorn and a helmet haircut. (She’s a Lib Dem MP now.) Susie and Gloria were locked into a demented competition regards stamina – their obsessive need to outdo each other carried through to their degrees and careers. Until Gloria got married at twenty-five and had triplets six months later, and Susie was finally happy to hand over the winner’s trophy.
On one scorching day, both of them pedalling like maniacs – out of breath, but pretending not to be, keeping up appearances with effortful conversation – I gradually fell behind. Fin was keeping pace with me, possibly because as the eldest, and male, he anticipated a major fury coming his way if they lost possession of the sad doll girl.
Under a large tree by the side of a road, he and I stopped for a rest, my metallic green bicycle with white shopping basket propped against it. Fin had something sharp and racy in black and red, which was more like a couple of metal right angles than mode of transport.
‘They have to come back this way,’ Fin said. ‘Let’s wait for them to pass.’
I liked this idea, and we lolled against the bark and picked blades of grass and listened to the bee-buzz hum of distant lawnmowers. We lay down and closed our eyes and imagined we were comfortable enough to sleep. We sat up again, because the ground was lumpy and grass is tickly.
‘Have you heard of kissing?’ I asked Fin.
I’d seen it on a television programme the night before; the woman was in a pink nightie with thin straps and slippers that looked like high heels. I’d been riveted. I’d said to my brother Kieran: ‘I’ve never seen Mum and Dad do that’ and he said: ‘That’s because they don’t like each other in the way that man and lady do’ and, well, from the mouths of babes.
‘Yes,’ Fin said. ‘Of course I know what kissing is.’
‘Would you like to do it with me?’
(I don’t think I’ve ever been as forthright with a member of the opposite sex since.)
He glanced up from under his floppy fringe and gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘Yeah, I s’pose.’
We shuffled round opposite each other and pressed our mouths together. His lips felt soft for a boy, although I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting. We repositioned our heads and tried again. It was not a good or bad experience, just a curious thing to choose to do, I thought.
Susie and Gloria reappeared in the distance and Fin and I righted our bikes and rolled them back down to the path. Once again, the girls outpaced us and disappeared into the horizon. As we arrived at the Hart residence, I wondered if I wanted to kiss Fin Hart goodbye.
As I was about to suggest