mine now. She’s my Alice. And I’ve got Dad and God helping me too, so you don’t stand a chance!
I got this picture in my head of me and Alice walking up the High Street in town, her arm linked in mine, and I knew what I should do . . . I should ask her out – like on a date, only I wouldn’t say it was a date. I had enough money on my debit card. I didn’t know how much, but enough to get us something to eat. I thought I had to do something to show her how much I loved her Manga drawing, or she might think I didn’t. She might even think I didn’t like her, and I didn’t want her to think that, not even for a second. I wanted her to know she could rely on me, that I’d never play any games with her feelings, that I’d just love her and love her and love her forever.
I thought about taking her to Yog first, but it’s right in the middle of the shopping centre and much too conspicuous for a secret affair (not that this was going to be just an affair). Anyway, I thought Yog might not take debit cards, so I moved us somewhere more private – first to Starbucks, in the bit round the back near the toilets where it’s always dark, then to the café on the top floor of John Lewis. We’d definitely not be seen there. Not by anyone that mattered anyway – only middle-aged women.
I’ve no idea what they serve in the John Lewis café, but for some reason strawberry tarts kept coming into my head, the strawberries all juicy and chopped and pushed into the vanilla cream on the top in a spiral pattern and sprinkled with icing sugar. I imagined me spooning one of the strawberries from my tart into her mouth, only some of the juice from it dribbles down her chin and it makes us laugh so much we’re crying and clinging to each other and all the old ladies are staring in horror.
I tried to remember what my PIN number was after that, because I hadn’t used my card for so long I’d forgotten, and then, even though I knew Mum would’ve kept the bank letter that told me, I had numbers pedalling round in my head for the rest of the night. It was getting light outside when I finally dropped off.
Things didn’t go exactly like I’d hoped the next day. I never ate strawberry tart, put it that way.
Basically, Alice ignored me. I told myself she’d probably had a sleepless night too, worrying that she’d shown her feelings too quickly and frightened me off. Or maybe she’d frightened herself off with her feelings. Either way, I thought, watching her gather her hair in her fingers at the back of her neck and pull it so it all went over one shoulder, I’ve got to be patient. I’ve got to give her time to come to terms with how she feels about us. I thought, don’t screw this up, Yaz. Keep Calm and Carry On. Keep Calm and Carry On Loving Alice.
I told myself she was only ignoring me because she wanted to keep us a secret, which was definitely a good idea, because if anyone at school got a whiff of us, it’d be ceaseless. We’d have to go into hiding . . . Elope. I told myself not to even get started on that fantasy because I could probably write a trilogy about eloping with Alice. The first one would be Eloping With Alice – Europe (because that’s probably where we’d go first), then Eloping With Alice – The Far East, then Eloping with Alice – The Americas. It’d be like an amazing adventure and romance story and travel guide all in one. And somewhere along the way – probably on a beach somewhere in the Far East – we might even get married. It’d be incredible (the wedding and the trilogy) and by the time we got back I’d be skinny and we’d both have bronze skin and we’d be this glamorous celebrity couple – like Posh and Becks only a younger, lesbian version – and people would queue for miles at our book signings. I thought it was a shame I’m rubbish at singing, because if I wasn’t, we could release an album too, because Alice was pretty good. Her voice wasn’t powerful but just like I’d imagined it before I ever heard it – understated and sweet and a little bit different. Then I thought maybe we could do the album anyway. I mean, if you look good having a rubbish voice doesn’t really matter, does it? We could call it Eloped, or, if it had more of a rock vibe, maybe even Lesbian Psycho Stalkers.
Alice did such a good job of ignoring me that I couldn’t get anywhere near her. She didn’t even go to lunch because after I’d eaten I hung round the entrance right till the end of lunch break. I wrote her a note while I was there. I thought that’d be the most secret way to let her know my plan. It said DO YOU WANT TO GO INTO TOWN? MY TREAT. I didn’t put a kiss or anything sappy like that and I wrote in capitals and left off names in case someone got hold of it.
I never even got to give it to her. She came into Science late, which wasn’t like her, and sat on the other side of the room where Sophie’d kept a space. Then, at the end, she rushed out, looking at her watch, and Sophie came and asked me if I’d heard what the homework was. It was obvious they’d planned it because Sophie’d rather stick pins in her eyes than talk to me. I told myself I was being paranoid, though – that Alice might’ve had something really important to get to. And maybe Sophie felt bad about the spitting thing too, like Alice. Maybe Katy’d dug her own grave spitting at me like she did, and now she was gonna pay for it and be the one that we all hated: Alice, Sophie, Beth and Me.
I went into town anyway. I thought I’d go to the John Lewis café and see if they really did do strawberry tarts. I thought I’d go and see what else they’d got there too, because I was starving and felt like eating – as in EATING.
I got off the bus at the bottom of the High Street and started walking up towards the shopping centre. I was about halfway there and thinking about when Alice’d given me her drawing, when I saw your dog. I could’ve missed it, because I was staring at the pavement, my head filled with Alice, but I saw it out the corner of my eye.
It was sitting on the other side of the road outside Boots, tied to the bike rack with the brown leather lead that was looped round your wrist when I saw you by the school fence. I told myself there were lots of small straggly brown dogs around – the kind that’d make Gary say, That’s not a dog, that’s a rat – and lots of brown leather dog leads too, but I knew it was yours.
My heart thudded in my ears because I didn’t know what to do. I had to do something though, for Alice. Alice needs me, I thought. I let the whispers out to do their thing, help me think. I thought, maybe I should hang around, then follow you to your house. But you could’ve lived miles away. You could’ve driven into town. Then I spotted the little silver barrel dangling from your dog’s collar and saw what I could do.
I crossed the road.
Your dog saw me. I think she heard my whispers, too, because she went up on her back legs and started paddling her paws in the air. I say ‘she’ because once I got up close it was obvious she was a girl dog.
‘Hello,’ I said, squatting down to take her little feet. Her tiny pink tongue licked my hands, one then the other, over and over, the silver barrel on her collar jiggling about. ‘Aren’t you sweet,’ I said, and she was – so sweet – only then I remembered about paedophiles having cute props and thought I’d better hurry up and get your address out of the barrel quick before you came back.
I stood up and peered through the shop window to check you weren’t paying or on your way out already. I couldn’t see you, so I bent down again. I reached under your dog’s chin and got the barrel, but it wouldn’t unscrew. My fingers were too sweaty. And she wasn’t helping any, either. She kept making gruff little noises and bouncing on her front legs, the whites of her eyes showing as she strained to lick my face.
‘Stop it!’ I told her as I tried to unscrew the barrel again, but it was so tight it wouldn’t budge.
I started to panic. I was thinking, You’re gonna be here, like any second. Then take her came into my head. Just like that: TAKE HER!
I fumbled with the knot round the metal bar, my
