Chapter 10

I spent hours that night, sat in a chair in my room working through a number of possible scenarios, unable to decide what was most likely, or even what I wanted to happen. In the end, I decided to sit back and just let life take me where it wanted.

As a result, I didn’t have a particularly restful night’s sleep and was pretty bleary eyed when I walked down the four flights of stairs to breakfast.

It was gone nine when I walked into the restaurant, gave my room number, and helped myself from the buffet.

Half an hour, one good breakfast and three cups of coffee later I was starting to feel like I was back on the road to becoming a human being again.

I left the restaurant and decided that a walk would do me good. I hadn’t made any arrangements the with Cal the previous evening, so I’d assumed that she’d be doing something else. I made my way up Medlock Street then crossed the river and walked towards Piccadilly Gardens. I didn’t hurry and by the time I reached my goal the shops were beginning to get ready for opening, one or two of the coffee shops were already opened and I called into one, a proper café, not one of the chain type and ordered a large Americano.

As I sat there at an outside table I was watching the world go by, admiring the pretty girls when my phone rang. The number was withheld.

I pressed the red button and let the call go to voicemail, I don’t answer anonymous calls. Whatever they’re selling I’m not buying.

The phone pinged a few seconds later to tell me that I had a text. When I looked it was the system telling me that I’d missed a call from ‘unknown number’ and that they hadn’t left a message. Probably just another scammer.

I finished my coffee and set off down Market Street towards Deansgate.

I’d only gone about fifty metres when my phone rang again, this time I recognised the number.

“Good morning, Cal,” I said as I answered it, “how are you doing.”

“Missing you,” she replied, “where are you?”

Walking down Deansgate towards the river,” I said, “what are you doing?”

“Sitting in my car outside your hotel,” she replied, “I came over to see if you wanted to do something today, but you’re not here.”

“That’s because I’m here, I decided that I needed some exercise, so I went out for a walk.”

“Which side of the road are you on?” she asked.

“The left walking towards the station,” I said.

“Cross over, I’ll pick you up.”

Less than five minutes later and a couple of hundred metres further up Deansgate she pulled into the kerb next to me. I reached down, opened the door and slipped into the car.

As I sat down, she leaned over and kissed me.

“Why didn’t you ring me this morning?” she asked.

“I assumed that since we’d been to your concert on Friday night and had a busy day yesterday that you’d be catching up on homework this morning.”

“Well, I was, but that doesn’t stop you ringing me.”

“Wanting me to ring you suggests that you have a phone, you could just have easily rung me,” I replied.

We came, quickly, to a compromise, on odd numbered dates, I would ring Cal when I got up, unless it was before seven-thirty, in which case I would wait until seven-thirty. On even numbered dates Cal would ring me unless she hadn’t rung me by eight o’clock in which case I would ring her.

“Of course,” she added, after we had agreed on this arrangement, “you could save us both a lot of trouble by just ringing me every morning.”

There’s no arguing with Cal’s logic, or at least there’s no point in trying to argue with Cal’s logic. I just agreed that I’d ring her every morning between seven-thirty and eight.

“You never did answer me,” I said as we got out of the car at the hotel, “were you doing homework this morning?”

“Most of it, yes,” she replied., “do you have any plans for a week this Friday?”

“No why?”

“Well, it’s the Sixth form end of year ball at the Midland hotel and I wonder if you’d take me.”

“I don’t have any specific plans,” I said, “but are you allowed to take outsiders?”

“Of course we are, not everybody’s boyfriend or girlfriend is a fellow-student.”

“Then I’d love to,” I said, “I take it you want me to wear my monkey suit.”

“It is a black tie event; I’ll be wearing my long frock.”

“Then it’s a date,” I said, “But I’ll need to go home and get my suit.”

“Want to go now?” she asked.

“No I’ll go during the week,” I said, “I’m tied up every day this week with driving lessons, but I’ll make it over one evening and get my Dad to drive me back.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, “I forgot about the driving, how’s it going?”

“I take the theory test on Tuesday,” I said, “then it’s just a matter of practice and wait until the instructor says I’m ready. Then waiting for a test appointment.”

“You need to tell them that you’ll take a cancellation,” she said.

“I can’t,” I replied, “I can’t guarantee being able to use the driving school car at short notice.”

“Then use mine,” she said, “if you get a short appointment, ring me, I’ll get out of school and come and drive you to the test centre, then you can take the test and I’ll wait for you.”

“It’s not insured for me to drive,” I said.

“I had to insure it any driver, there’s just a thousand pound excess if it’s driven by a learner. So try not to prang it.”

“Well, I’ll say I’ll take short notice and if I can’t use the school’s car, then I’ll call you.”

“Fine,” she said.

We arrived at the hotel, got out of the car, went inside and up to the top floor.

As I let us into the room, she closed the door behind us, grabbed me and kissed me, hard.

When we broke the kiss, she looked across longingly at the bed.

I shook my head.

“We can’t afford to take the risk,” I said.

“Is that the only thing holding you back?” she asked, “the risk of me getting pregnant?”

“No,” I answered, “there are other risks. The main one is I’m still not sure that if we go back to how we were, then next time a “good idea” comes to you, you’ll just go off and do it, regardless of how it affects me.”

She took a step back and looked up into my eyes.

“Then I may as well just go back to school now and try and forget about you, David,” she said, “can you tell me one thing I can do to convince you, prove to you, that you can trust me? All I can do is tell you that I love you, that I know what mistakes I made in the past and that I’m determined not to make similar ones in the future. Can I say with absolute certainty that I won’t mess up; I won’t make mistakes? NO, I can’t. I can only tell you that I have never, ever in my life set out deliberately to hurt you. I never will, I never could. But I can’t say with absolute certainty say that I won’t ever hurt you, can you say that to me?”

“No, I don’t think I could with absolute certainty.”

“Then why do you expect me to?” she spat and headed towards the door.

I expected the door to slam shut, but instead she stopped with the door handle in her hand and turned to face me.

“I’m sorry, David, I can’t prove that you can trust me. I can only tell you how I feel about you. I love you, but I’m not going to spend the rest of my life on trial. You’ve got my number, give me a ring when you’re ready to accept what I say.”

She closed the door quietly as she left and I slumped down into my chair.

My first thought was that I had totally screwed it up. What was it we’d been told on that fateful day at school. Life is full of risks. Sometimes you have to take that leap.

I was reaching for my phone when it chirped at me to tell me I had a text.

I looked at it.

“I LOVE YOU. THAT’S ALL I CAN OFFER. C. XXXXXXXXX.”

I sat and looked at it for a long time and was just about to reply when another came in.

“I UNDERSTAND. I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. BE HAPPY.”

I quickly typed in a reply.

“IT’S ALL I CAN OFFER AS WELL. BUT IT’S YOURS.”

Less than four minutes later there was a soft knock at the door.

I opened it and Cal leapt into my arms and started showering me with kisses. Once she felt she’d done enough she uttered just four words.

“You. Me. Bed. Now.”

“Cal,” I warned, “we can’t.”

“Yes we can,” she replied, “there are machines in the toilets here. Well in the ladies, I can’t speak for the gents. Put you hand in the left back pocket of my jeans.”

“They’re so tight I can’t,” I said.

“Men,” she growled and jumped down onto the floor, then turned around.

“Here,” she said, “try now.”

There were two three packs of Durex ribbed condoms in there.

“Six?” I asked.

“You’ve always said I was ambitious.”

An hour later we were cuddled together, naked on the bed, revelling in a warm post-coital glow. I had one arm around her shoulders and the other idly running her left nipple when there was a knock on the room door and it opened.

“Cleaning,” a female voice announced and walked in. Her face registered shock when she saw us there like that.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “I didn’t realise you were in.”

She backed out quicker than she’d walked in.

“Maybe we’d better get dressed,” I said.

“Maybe,” Cal agreed.

“Unless, even after twice in an hour you’re ready for round three.”

“Perhaps a little later,” I suggested.

“Good,” she said, I’m a little sore right now.”

“Sore already?” I asked.

“Unlike yours,” she said, with a smile, “mine hasn’t seen any action for the last nine months.”

I pondered that for a moment.

“Not even?” I began.

“Well yes, that,” she agreed, “lots of that. But always imagining it was your fingers. Or some other part of you.”

“Really?” I asked.

“David,” she said, suddenly serious, “so far, since our first time together I have had orgasms that I know of from three sources. You, my fingers and Bob.”

“Bob?” I asked, “Was that the guy in September?”

“No, Bob. B. O. B. Battery operated boyfriend. The last two always aided by thoughts of it being you down there.”

“Talking of ‘down there,’” I said, “you want I should.”

I stuck my tongue out and waggled it.”