Resurgence by Kerry Wilkinson

Author:Kerry Wilkinson [Wilkinson, Kerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781447262213
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

16

When we are by ourselves in the bedroom, I apologise to Opie for forgetting his birthday. He says it’s fine because I’d have missed my own too if he hadn’t remembered for me. He is underneath his blankets and I return to mine, cocooning them around me until everything below my neck is engulfed. I shuffle close to him and ask what he wanted as a present, but he says the kiss yesterday morning was more than enough. I can’t believe there’s an easy way of telling someone that you kissed them, held them, craved their breath on you, because you were walking into something thinking you might not come out.

He doesn’t realise he’s made me feel awkward, asking what I thought of the present everyone has cobbled together for me. ‘It was Knave’s idea and Frank was great,’ he says.

‘So where do you come into it?’ I ask, teasing.

‘They wouldn’t have known at all if I didn’t tell them the date.’

‘So that means it’s partly your present to me by default?’

‘Exactly.’ He grins in the wonderful way of his and adds, ‘Do you remember last year?’

I pull the covers even tighter and close my eyes, enjoying the warmth. Then I am back in Martindale again. Those cobbled streets and the way everyone’s feet clip-clop on the hard, uneven surface. Every time I remember the village, the skies are blue and there is a gentle chirp of birds somewhere in the distance.

‘Tell me,’ I whisper, not wanting to lose the vision.

‘My mum wanted to make a big deal of the fact we were both sixteen. You were doing what you always do and pretending it wasn’t a big deal.’

‘It wasn’t.’

Opie laughs. He knows it’s the truth. ‘She’d been talking to your mum for weeks about doing something, but whenever anyone asked you, you’d say, “It’s just another day”. So your mum was annoyed at you and my mum was annoyed at me because I kept telling her that you weren’t bothered.’

‘So I was getting you into trouble?’

‘Exactly, and I hadn’t done anything! About a week before my birthday, she threw her hands in the air and went, “You’re useless! The only thing you’re getting is sticks and leaves.”’

I laugh, remembering how aggrieved he’d been at the time. We’d lain together on our backs on the edge of the woods – my woods – staring at the grey wash of sky through the trees as he complained that he wasn’t getting anything for his birthday because I didn’t want anything for mine.

‘Tell me more,’ I demand, eyes still closed.

‘My birthday was a school day. Usually we celebrate together on yours, so I wasn’t expecting anything. We did our usual thing at school – you messed around, didn’t listen, paid no attention and did really well. I tried to listen, tried to pay attention, and didn’t mess around, but got nowhere. We left afterwards and went to the woods.’

‘It was raining.’

My eyes are still closed but I know he is smiling. Martindale

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