Free Cross Your Heart, Connie Pickles by Sabine Durrant Page B

was a good moment for the moral bit, so I said, ‘Del. Maybe getting off with someone immediately like that isn’t the best way of getting on .’
    She looked at me witheringly, if you can look witheringly through eyes as big and blue and tear-filled as hers, and said, ‘Oh yeah? What are you saying?’
    I said, ‘Maybe you should wait until you really like someone before letting them kiss you.’ I trailed away. ‘You know, as in Darius down at the river…’
    She didn’t seem to hear this last bit. ‘I don’t let them kiss me . I kiss them.’
    ‘That’s what I mean. But maybe you should wait for someone really nice. You know, find out if they are The One first.’
    She looked scandalized. ‘Oh, right. And just hang around, like some uptight weirdo, waiting for nothing, like you? No thanks.’
    I managed to say, ‘Fair enough. Maybe steer clear of other people’s boyfriends, then, that’s all.’
    She swung her legs over the bed and looked at me intently. ‘Who are we talking about? William?’
    ‘No.’ I laughed, shaking my head as if it had bugs in it. ‘Of course not. Just be careful, that’s all.’
    8 p.m.
    That was a few hours ago. Since then William’s been round, hanging about Mother’s ankles, looking hungry. She fussed over him, getting all French and ‘ooh la la’, making toast and telling him she could see his hipbones. Yeah, right. Who’s fault is that for wearing jeans two sizes too big?
    Mr Spence finished work for the day and didn’t leave. Maybe he wanted toast or ‘Ooh la la’ing too. And then Jack turned up with his new girlfriend, Dawn, who’s tall and skinny. Usually, Jack throws Cyril and Marie around the place, and makes them shriek with laughter, but when he’s got a new girlfriend with him he gets all awkward and cool as if he doesn’t know whether to show his new girlfriend what a great dad he is, or stand back, cool and narrow-eyed, reminding Mother what a great catch he is. He met Dawn selling fish door to door. She bought a box of Dublin Bay prawns and a duo of stuffed plaice. Must be love. Never is, though.
    ‘This,’ Jack said, lunging, when I came into the room, ‘is my favourite stepdaughter in the world.’
    I reared back. Lately, this house is either Odour of Calvin or Odour of Cod. ‘I’m your only stepdaughter in the world,’ I said. ‘Don’t show off’.
    Jack turned to New Dawn and said, ‘See what I have to put up with?’
    There was tooting outside the house in the street then. Mother, still chatting to Mr Spence, shrieked at me that it was Bert and she wasn’t ready and could I run and tell him to come in?
    This I did. He humphed at me through the car window but went and parked. He came in and stood around, one hand inside his shirt, massaging his own shoulder. He said, ‘Ciao,’ to everyone in a fake-friendly sort of way. William gave me A Look (I know why – a) we hate it when grown-ups are overly chummy, and b) we hate ciao). Mr Spence, coming late into the room, said, ‘Evening all,’ to which nobody answered. Then Mother went upstairs and Uncle Bert got all snippy with Marie. She’d been making a camp next to the fridge in the sitting room – using all the cushions from the sofa – and when Uncle B. realized there was nowhere to sit, I heard him say, ‘Hey. You. Scram.’ Marie looked too shocked to scream.
    Then everyone left – William went home to leave lettuce out for his hamster, Mother and Uncle B. went out, and J, D, M and C went to McDonald’s. I declined the offer of this last and mooched around downstairs on my own. I searched all the bins for the airmail letter Mother got this morning, but I couldn’t find it.
    I’m too depressed to breathe, let alone eat. It’s been such a miserable day. One of my best friends is a slag; the other isn’t talking to me.
    And is Delilah right? Am I an uptight weirdo? Am I waiting around for nothing? Recently, I’ve had this yearning, restless feeling inside me. I don’t want a