money and I pull my coat from one of the kitchen lockers, heading wearily for the door.
‘Tomorrow at five!’ Val calls after me. ‘Don’t be late!’
Jem is waiting for me on the steps.
‘Thought I’d walk you wherever you need to go,’ he says.
‘There’ll be a bus in five minutes,’ I say, feeling stupidly shy as I point at my bus stop opposite. ‘It takes me to the end of my road. I’ll be fine.’
He rubs his jaw. I have a terrible urge to rub it too. Maybe even kiss it a bit, on the part where the stubble gives way to the softer skin on his neck.
‘Guess I was the only one that felt it,’ he says.
‘Felt what?’ I ask nervously.
He frowns. ‘Like the moon was inside me.’
I open my mouth like a poleaxed goldfish. He turns away, head down, pushing back inside the theatre doors and out of sight.
‘Babe, it’s me,’ I say through Tabby’s bedroom door the following morning, unfeasibly bright and early. ‘Your mum let me in. I know it’s Saturday first thing but she says you’re going out later and we have to talk. I brought you tea.’
Tabby peeps blearily out from under her duvet as I flip on the light and crash into her room, putting the tea on her bedside table.
‘Wher time zit?’ she croaks. ‘Wass happened?’
Where to start? The beginning, I decide. It’s going to sound crazy however I do this, but beginnings at least prove there’s some kind of order in the world.
‘Remember me telling you about making out with that French guy in the holidays? About the incredible brain-frying kiss and the moon?’
Fumbling on her bedside table, Tabby finds her glasses and slides them on. She’s starting to look more awake. ‘Lilah, in what way is this urgent? First thing in the morning, a wee is urgent, not a chat about kissing. On the subject of which . . .’
‘The French guy Laurent,’ I resume the minute Tab returns from the bathroom. ‘He spun me this line on something called Aphrodite’s Kiss in the sand dunes. A load of donkey doodah about—’
‘I know about Aphrodite’s Kiss,’ she interrupts.
I freeze. This is exactly what I don’t want to hear.
‘You do?’ I say weakly.
Tab extracts a bit of sleepy dust the size of Wales from one eye. ‘I’m studying Classics, babe. We talk about Aphrodite a lot . Not that she’s been much help lately,’ she adds bitterly.
‘Tell me,’ I order.
‘According to the legend, Aphrodite first gave the Kiss to a huntsman in the foothills of ancient Athens by the light of a full moon,’ Tabby says with a yawn. ‘The Kiss drove him gloriously, happily mad. But life is fickle, and Aphrodite didn’t stick around.’ Her voice wobbles, but she steadies herself. ‘The huntsman caught the eye of a girl in the market place and gave her the Kiss instead. The girl instantly fell in love with the huntsman. Then a soldier with nice biceps passed through Athens and gave the girl a pretty bead necklace, causing her to thank him in the traditional manner and do the dirty on the huntsman. Cow. And basically the Kiss is supposed to have spread from there, leaving a trail of love and agony in its wake.’
So far, Tab’s version of the story tallies with what Laurent told me. This is NOT GOOD.
‘It’s all a big fat lie,’ I prompt her.
‘I guess,’ Tabby says, looking wistful. ‘Why is this important?’
‘Something Jem said to me last night.’
Her eyes narrow. ‘You saw him again? More kissing?’
‘I went to the bank yesterday, learned I was broke, got a job at the Gaslight bar because seriously it was the ONLY job I found, embarrassed myself with his mother, worked myself to a shred beside him last night, end of story,’ I say in one breath.
Tabby reaches for her tea. ‘Sounds more like the beginning to me.’
‘I told him I don’t want anything else to happen,’ I say impatiently. ‘It was all massively Jeremy Kyle. And then he said . . .’ I pause. This is still extremely weird. ‘He said , when we
‘Tomorrow at five!’ Val calls after me. ‘Don’t be late!’
Jem is waiting for me on the steps.
‘Thought I’d walk you wherever you need to go,’ he says.
‘There’ll be a bus in five minutes,’ I say, feeling stupidly shy as I point at my bus stop opposite. ‘It takes me to the end of my road. I’ll be fine.’
He rubs his jaw. I have a terrible urge to rub it too. Maybe even kiss it a bit, on the part where the stubble gives way to the softer skin on his neck.
‘Guess I was the only one that felt it,’ he says.
‘Felt what?’ I ask nervously.
He frowns. ‘Like the moon was inside me.’
I open my mouth like a poleaxed goldfish. He turns away, head down, pushing back inside the theatre doors and out of sight.
‘Babe, it’s me,’ I say through Tabby’s bedroom door the following morning, unfeasibly bright and early. ‘Your mum let me in. I know it’s Saturday first thing but she says you’re going out later and we have to talk. I brought you tea.’
Tabby peeps blearily out from under her duvet as I flip on the light and crash into her room, putting the tea on her bedside table.
‘Wher time zit?’ she croaks. ‘Wass happened?’
Where to start? The beginning, I decide. It’s going to sound crazy however I do this, but beginnings at least prove there’s some kind of order in the world.
‘Remember me telling you about making out with that French guy in the holidays? About the incredible brain-frying kiss and the moon?’
Fumbling on her bedside table, Tabby finds her glasses and slides them on. She’s starting to look more awake. ‘Lilah, in what way is this urgent? First thing in the morning, a wee is urgent, not a chat about kissing. On the subject of which . . .’
‘The French guy Laurent,’ I resume the minute Tab returns from the bathroom. ‘He spun me this line on something called Aphrodite’s Kiss in the sand dunes. A load of donkey doodah about—’
‘I know about Aphrodite’s Kiss,’ she interrupts.
I freeze. This is exactly what I don’t want to hear.
‘You do?’ I say weakly.
Tab extracts a bit of sleepy dust the size of Wales from one eye. ‘I’m studying Classics, babe. We talk about Aphrodite a lot . Not that she’s been much help lately,’ she adds bitterly.
‘Tell me,’ I order.
‘According to the legend, Aphrodite first gave the Kiss to a huntsman in the foothills of ancient Athens by the light of a full moon,’ Tabby says with a yawn. ‘The Kiss drove him gloriously, happily mad. But life is fickle, and Aphrodite didn’t stick around.’ Her voice wobbles, but she steadies herself. ‘The huntsman caught the eye of a girl in the market place and gave her the Kiss instead. The girl instantly fell in love with the huntsman. Then a soldier with nice biceps passed through Athens and gave the girl a pretty bead necklace, causing her to thank him in the traditional manner and do the dirty on the huntsman. Cow. And basically the Kiss is supposed to have spread from there, leaving a trail of love and agony in its wake.’
So far, Tab’s version of the story tallies with what Laurent told me. This is NOT GOOD.
‘It’s all a big fat lie,’ I prompt her.
‘I guess,’ Tabby says, looking wistful. ‘Why is this important?’
‘Something Jem said to me last night.’
Her eyes narrow. ‘You saw him again? More kissing?’
‘I went to the bank yesterday, learned I was broke, got a job at the Gaslight bar because seriously it was the ONLY job I found, embarrassed myself with his mother, worked myself to a shred beside him last night, end of story,’ I say in one breath.
Tabby reaches for her tea. ‘Sounds more like the beginning to me.’
‘I told him I don’t want anything else to happen,’ I say impatiently. ‘It was all massively Jeremy Kyle. And then he said . . .’ I pause. This is still extremely weird. ‘He said , when we
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