Sugar Secrets…& Lies Page 4

  As he went to pass her in the narrow aisle, Kerry moved back against the rack to give him enough space to brush by her. Her dangling rucksack, however, didn’t do the same.

  Stumbling as his shins collided with the crammed bag, Ollie grabbed hold of Kerry to steady himself.

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” said Kerry automatically in the split second it took Ollie to regain his balance.

  As the words left her lips, she suddenly became aware of two things: the warmth of Ollie’s hand where it rested on her waist, and the fact that his wonderful, sweet face was just a kiss away from hers…

  CHAPTER 6

  A CLOSE CALL

  The rattle and thud of the shop door being pushed open made them leap apart.

  “Hey. Ollie! Kerry! What’s up?” asked Nick, swaggering casually up to the counter. “Done the till yet, mate?”

  “Er, no, I was just about to,” said Ollie, running his hands distractedly through his hair and striding after his uncle.

  “How’s it been?” Nick asked, pinging open the till and thumbing through the pile of notes in the drawer.

  “Not bad. The afternoon turned out pretty good,” Ollie answered, throwing a quick glance at Kerry, who was still standing frozen to the record rack.

  “All right, Kerry?” Nick nodded over to her as he began counting out pound coins. “Just saw your mates Sonja and, er, what’s-‘er-name in the café. Making a hot chocolate last for two hours, as usual. What are they trying to do – bankrupt me?”

  Nick was always moaning about how long they all stayed in the café and how little they spent, but it was all hot air. He knew Ollie’s mates meant regular custom, and he knew he had a captive audience when he wanted to reminisce about his ‘wild’ rock ‘n’ roll past.

  “Uh-huh,” Kerry managed to mutter. “Bye…”

  And with a crash the door closed behind her.

  Kerry stared at her bedroom ceiling without seeing it; without feeling how uncomfortable and hot she was lying on top of the bed with her puffa jacket still on.

  What did it mean? she asked herself for the fiftieth time.

  Everything… nothing… she answered herself just as many times.

  Once again – minutely – she ran through those last moments before Nick barged in. Ollie silently facing her, inches away. The pressure of his hand on her skin through her shirt. His soft breath brushing her lips. He’d leant, imperceptibly, closer to her, as if, as if…

  But had he leant closer? It had all happened so quickly! Maybe she was nudged off balance too? Maybe she’d just imagined him moving those few, delicious millimetres nearer…

  God, what’s wrong with me? she chastised herself. All that had happened was that Ollie nearly tripped. He managed to pull himself upright. He’d been trying to catch his breath when Nick walked in. That was it. Finito.

  Oh, but what if…

  A scrabble of claws at her bedroom door and a shout of “KERRYKERRYKERRY!” heralded the arrival of Barney and Lewis.

  “What is it, Lewis?” she asked, irritated at this interruption to her confusion of thoughts.

  “Mum says tea’s ready!” said the six-year-old, staring down at her. Barney flopped his head on the bed and gave her hand a soggy lick.

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” Kerry answered listlessly and closed her eyes.

  Sonja was right. There had been times in the past when she’d had flickers – more than flickers – of feelings that weren’t just friendship for Ollie. The rewind button in her memory whirred back to that first time she’d looked at him and known – just known.

  It wasn’t any dramatic bolt of lightning and it wasn’t any grand setting, that’s for sure. She’d been at the café with the others one day when, on her way to the loo, she heard a commotion coming from the kitchen. Intrigued, Kerry gently pushed at the Staff Only door to the kitchen and peeked in. There was Ollie gallantly spinning Dorothy, the part-time cook-cum-waitress, round on her sprightly OAP legs, singing his head off to some old Elvis tune on the radio, while Dorothy shrieked with giggles.

  Right at that point Kerry realised that Ollie wasn’t just funny and entertaining, he was also sweet and kind. Right there and then, in the lino-floored corridor to the toilets, she had fallen in love.

  She sighed. This was madness.

  It was crazy to go reading anything into what had just happened, or not happened, back at the record shop. There was no use indulging in false hope. But then – and her heart sank further as she allowed herself this particular thought – what if in that weird, fleeting moment of closeness they had actually kissed? To Kerry, it would have been a huge deal; to Ollie, surely only a spur-of-the-moment whim. It would have been wonderful but terrible – the kind of stupid mistake that could spoil a great friendship.

  So there was nothing more to it. Whatever the blip back at the shop, Kerry vowed never to acknowledge it, never to let Ollie suspect how she felt. It would be better that way.

  A snuffling sound suddenly brought her to her senses.

  “Are you crying?” said Lewis, still standing at the side of her bed. Barney snuffled again and licked the salty tear – as well as half her face – away.

  CHAPTER 7

  CLOSER STILL

  “What’s that?” asked Maya, looking over Joe’s shoulder at the CD he was examining.

  “Dunno.”

  Joe flipped the obscure drum ‘n’ bass collection back and forth in his hand, recognising none of the names on it.

  “I thought you were meant to be a musician?” Maya teased him, no more familiar with the artists on Matt’s latest purchase than Joe.

  “I only muck about on the drums. I’m obviously not as hip as DJ Matty Matt over there,” Joe answered dryly.

  “He’s probably never heard of any of them either – just read about them in one of his trendy magazines,” Maya laughed. Matt did tend to know his stuff when it came to dance music, but he didn’t half take himself seriously sometimes – often boring his friends rigid with the finer points of the DJing business.

  “I’d stick this on now to see what it’s like, but we’d probably just get a long, drawn-out explanation about who mixed what track,” said Joe, staring enviously at Matt’s impressive sound system.

  “Here.” Maya stretched over to her bag and rummaged about in it, finally pulling out her CD Walkman. She flipped open the lid and handed Joe the CD that had been in it. “Stick this on – it’s a corny ‘80s hits album I got cheap in HMV the other day. Let’s see if we can’t contaminate Matt’s precious hi-fi.”

  “Excellent! He’ll hate it!”

  Oblivious to Maya and Joe’s scheming, Matt was lounging on a bean bag on the other side of his cavernous room, deep in conversation with Ollie.

  “So they definitely aren’t looking for a DJ, then?”

  “I told you. Matt, it’s a ‘60s theme night – not your kind of thing,” Ollie shrugged from the comfort of the oversized sofa. “And, as I keep reminding you, it is a charity concert. As in, no money…”

  “What? You’re playing a gig for nothing?”

  “Yes, just like everyone in every other band on the bill.”

  “Well, at least you’re making contacts, I guess…” said Matt doubtfully. For him, there had to be a gain in everything he did. Anything else was just a waste of ambition and energy.

  “I’m not doing it for that,” Ollie tried to explain patiently. “My dad put me up for this. He was a big fan of the guys who are putting this ska band together, and ‘cause a couple of them still drop into the bar when they’re passing, he suggested me when they said they were short of a sax player.”

  “So, you’re doing it for Daddy, then?”

  “No!” said Ollie, trying not to lose his cool. “You know I love all that kind of music too – as well as what me and Joe do with The Loud.”

  “Hmm,” nodded Matt. His record boxes for DJing may have been packed with a wide variety of sounds to suit a wide variety of audiences, but when it came to his own perso
nal taste, any music that went back more than three years and didn’t have a dance beat meant nothing to him.

  “And don’t forget,” Ollie continued, “starving kids are going to benefit from this concert.”

  Matt nodded, but looked as if it still didn’t make any sense to him. Ollie felt a rush of irritation. He was really excited and proud to be asked to do this show and Matt, with his transparent lack of enthusiasm, was only putting a damper on it.

  “So you expect us to pay to come all the way through to the city and listen to this old-fashioned drivel, do you?” Sonja butted in, a cheeky grin on her face. She knew how passionate Ollie was about anything to do with Mod stuff, and truly liked all the tapes of scratchy old ska and Motown tracks that he’d made up for her in the past. But it was also fun teasing him.

  “Well, if it isn’t too much trouble,” Ollie grinned back, taking no offence and actually glad for a distraction in the conversation. Matt was a great mate, but he was so single-minded – he could never seem to put himself in anyone else’s shoes or appreciate their point of view.

  “Ooh, I love an excuse for a night out in the city,” sighed Cat, finally joining the conversation after being glued to the fashion pages of her magazine for the past twenty minutes. “I can’t wait!”

  Ollie felt another rush of irritation, then realised what was behind it. He hadn’t seen Kerry for a while. Where had she got to?

  “I’m pretty hungry,” he said, turning his attention back to Matt. “Is it OK if I grab myself something from the kitchen?”

  “Yeah, sure,” shrugged Matt. “You want to grab me another beer while you’re up there? There’s none left down here.”

  Ollie nodded and stepped over Cat’s fishnet-clad legs. It made him smile, the way she dressed up all the time, even though they were just spending a lazy Sunday evening slobbing out at Matt’s.

  “Need a hand?” she asked from her reclining position on the floor.

  “Nah, it’s OK,” he replied as casually as he could. Ollie wanted company all right – just nobody’s in the room.

  Bounding up the stairs two at a time, he heard Matt’s voice yelling from the basement behind him.

  “What the hell is that?” as Whaml’s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go blasted out from his state-of-the-art CD player.

  Ollie pulled open the huge fridge-freezer and gazed blankly inside. He wasn’t really hungry. He stood bathed in the soft, yellow light, wondering idly if it stayed on when the door closed or plunged all those posh M&S ready-made meals into darkness.

  A waft of evening air brought him to life and Ollie turned in the direction it had come from. The door leading from the kitchen to the darkening conservatory was slightly ajar and, peering through, he could make out that the door to the manicured garden was wide open.

  Treading silently in his old Converse sneakers, Ollie crossed the expensively stone-clad flooring of the low-lit kitchen and slipped through into the conservatory. Above him, stars were beginning to twinkle through the plate-glass roof, and in front of him, curled up on the back doorstep, was Kerry, staring out into the shadowy grounds of Matt’s vast home.

  “Hey, stranger,” he said as softly as he could, so as not to startle her.

  Kerry still jumped, spinning round to face him, her eyes wide with alarm.

  “Can I join you?” Ollie asked.

  “Yeah, yeah, of course,” she managed to bluster, although Ollie was already making himself comfy beside her on the step.

  “I missed you,” he said jokily, feeling her give a little shiver. “Aren’t you chilly sitting out here?”

  “Not really,” she answered, resuming her inspection of the lawn and shrubs through the dusk.

  Ollie stared down at the scuffed toes of his sneakers and wondered how to say what he wanted to say.

  “Kerr, have you been avoiding me the last few days?”

  “No!” she gasped, after an unconvincing second’s silence. She’d be blushing by now. He couldn’t see for sure in this light, but he knew she would be.

  “Back at the shop…” he began. “I… well…”

  As Ollie’s words dried up, he turned to look at Kerry and saw that she’d dropped her gaze to the ground, her head bent forward and a fizz of curls obscuring her expression. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to her face and gently brushed back her hair. The faint light from the kitchen fell on her profile, illuminating the slightest tremor in her bottom lip.

  “Kerry?” he whispered.

  She turned to him, her eyes wide and questioning.

  Fingers still entwined in a tangle of red-brown curls, he gently pulled her towards him and felt the tremble of her mouth on his own.

  CHAPTER 8

  TWO’S COMPANY, ETC, ETC…

  “Your eyes look funny – all glazed. Are those contacts bothering you again?” Sonja asked, squinting at her friend.

  “No, no – I’m fine.”

  Kerry sat down on the sofa next to Sonja and tried to divert attention away from herself as quickly as possible before anyone noticed that she was about to explode, burst, ignite with happiness.

  “Where’s your dad tonight then, Matt?” she said, faking interest. “It’s very quiet up there in the house.”

  “Amsterdam,” he replied, rifling through a rack of CDs. “Or maybe he said Aberdeen…”

  Still in her reclining position on the floor, Cat snorted.

  “There’s a bit of a difference between Amsterdam and Aberdeen! Didn’t you do geography at that posh school of yours?”

  “Well, whatever – he’s doing some business deal somewhere,” said Matt sharply. “Is Ollie still up there, Kez? He said he’d bring me back a beer ages ago.”

  “Yeah,” said Kerry, hoping her voice didn’t sound as much of a helium squeak to the others as it did to her right now. “I, uh, I just saw him in the kitchen just now. I was just out in the garden getting some air.”

  “Forget beer, forget gardens, get on with what you were saying, Son,” interrupted Maya, who’d managed to snatch the bean bag from Matt when he’d gone to rescue his speakers from being mauled by an ancient Duran Duran track.

  “Well, I need Ollie for this story really – oh, there you are at last.” Sonja motioned to Ollie to hurry up as he came sheepishly into the room carrying cans of Coke, lager and bags of tortilla chips. “Ollie, tell them what you said on the way over – about Nick!”

  Ollie looked uncharacteristically blank and paused for a moment as he handed out various cans to everyone.

  “Oh, yeah!” he nodded, suddenly coming to. “Yeah, Nick told me today that I’d have to bank the record shop takings myself on Saturday, and when I asked why he wouldn’t be in to pick them up as usual, he said he was going away for the day…”

  “Big deal,” interrupted Cat, then yelped as Sonja nudged her with the toe of her trainer in an effort to shut her up.

  “Wait – this is good,” shushed Sonja.

  “Then,” continued Ollie, handing Kerry a Coke and shooting her a meaningful glance, “when I asked him where he was going, he went all kind of bashful.”

  “Bashful!” exclaimed Maya. “That’s the last word I’d ever think of to describe Nick. He’s even more full of himself than Matt!”

  “Oi!” said Matt, chucking an unopened bag of tortilla chips at her. “Who do you think you are, coming to my house with your rubbish taste in music, then insulting me?”

  “Don’t forget – I nicked your bean bag too,” mumbled Maya, as she tore open the bag with her teeth. “And I’m going to eat all your tortilla chips.”

  “Will you let Ollie finish?” barked Sonja.

  Ollie by this time had settled himself on the floor and leant back against the sofa, one elbow casually resting on Kerry’s knee.

  “Well, as I say, Nick went all bashful, and just said that he was taking someone away for the day. I said, what – like your new girlfriend? And he started faffing about, then sort of coughed and said yeah. Then he scarpered.”

  �
�See?” said Sonja, as though Ollie had revealed some amazing truth.

  “See what?” asked Joe, through a mouthful of crisps.

  “I reckon it has to be someone he’s well embarrassed about, or someone we know…” Sonja said theatrically, pausing for dramatic effect, “or Nick wouldn’t be so secretive. You know how he is normally – he loves showing off about his girlfriends.”

  “Ah, but Sonja, maybe he’s gone all shy ‘cause this is the real thing – true love,” reasoned Maya.

  Cat snorted derisively again.

  “That’ll be the day,” she said, her voice laden with sarcasm. But her mind wasn’t completely on Nick’s love-life. Out of the corner of her eye, she was watching Kerry and Ollie – the way he was leaning on her.

  That wouldn’t be out of the ordinary normally – they were all pretty tactile with each other – but there was something different going on here. Maybe it was the way that Kerry was holding herself so stiffly, so awkwardly, as if her nerves were on edge. Or maybe it was the way Ollie’s fingers were curled possessively round Kerry’s knee…

  Cat paid even closer attention as she saw Ollie turn and look up into Kerry’s face.

  “How are you feeling?” Cat heard him ask her. Kerry’s face seemed frozen in confusion.

  “Do you still feel sick? I could walk you home now, if you want.”

  Ah, now what’s this? thought Cat. This is the first we’ve heard about Kerry being ill.

  “What’s up?” Sonja asked, turning to her friend in concern.

  “She felt sick earlier… when I went up to the kitchen I found her out in the garden getting some air. Isn’t that right?”

  Kerry stared at Ollie, then nodded. Lying wasn’t something she was particularly good at and she felt she’d implicate herself less if she just agreed wordlessly, rather than open her mouth and try to join in the lie.

  “Do you want to go home, Kez?” asked Sonja, who only lived a couple of streets away from her friend. “I could call us a taxi.”