After Eden

Chapter 4

Connor lived in an old fisherman’s cottage with a view over the harbour beach, a tiny two-up two-down with the world’s smallest bathroom. Despite the cramped conditions and the damp problem, Connor’s mother had made the place into one of the cosiest homes I’d ever been in. The whole house smelt like fresh bread and biscuits when I arrived and Connor’s mother was cutting up a tray of home-made shortbread.

‘Here you go,’ she said, carefully arranging the shortbread on a plate. ‘Connor’s upstairs. I’ll bring you up some tea in a sec.’

‘Thanks, Mrs Penrose,’ I said, taking the plate and heading up the stairs.

The door was wide open and Connor was sitting on his bed reading a Simpsons comic.

‘Working hard?’ I said, clearing a space on his desk for the shortbread.

‘My brain is aching.’ He tossed the comic on the floor.

Connor’s room was its usual mess. His desk was covered with textbooks, an ancient computer, a pile of overdue library books, and a collection of empty water glasses and coffee mugs. Discarded clothes were strewn across the floor and a poster of a rock band I’d never heard of hung from his bedroom wall by a single pin.

‘It’s sweet of you,’ I said, kicking his clothes into a pile so that I could find somewhere to sit on the carpet, ‘but you really shouldn’t have gone to the trouble of tidying your room.’

‘I didn’t do it for you,’ he said. ‘I did it for Megan. But she’s stood us up.’

‘She’s not coming?’

Connor chucked me one of the pillows from his bed. ‘Sit on that. She’s come down with a virus. Symptoms appear to be a raging headache, the shakes and vomiting. Not unlike a hangover from what I hear.’

I laughed. ‘Poor Megan. She never knows when to stop.’

Connor shrugged and passed me the shortbread. ‘Actually, I’m kind of glad that it’s just you and me.’

I suddenly felt very aware of the fact that we were alone. ‘You are?’

‘We almost never get to spend time with just the two of us any more.’ He smiled. ‘You know what this means?’

I stopped breathing.

‘It’s my go,’ Connor said, reaching for the Scrabble board.

The last time Megan couldn’t make our revision session, Connor and I had started a game of Scrabble that we’d never had time to finish.

Connor gave me a look. ‘Are you all right? What did you think I was going to say?’

When the door opened, and Mrs Penrose came in with a tray of tea, I realised I’d been holding my breath.

‘I’m popping over to see Nan and Grandad,’ she told Connor. ‘I’ll be back this afternoon.’ She looked around the room with disgust. ‘I suggest you clear your dirty clothes off the floor and put them in the washing machine if you want a clean school uniform tomorrow.’

Connor grunted. ‘OK, Mum.’

Mrs Penrose left and we were alone again. I poured the tea.

‘So how did you get home last night?’ He was frowning at his row of tiles.

‘Walked,’ I said.

Connor looked up from the game. ‘In the dark? It’s five miles to Penpol Cove.’

‘It wasn’t that dark in the moonlight.’

He snorted. ‘Not that dark! I bet that was Westland’s genius idea. Walking you home in the moonlight.’

‘Actually, it was my idea.’

‘Your idea!’

‘Connor, are you going to repeat everything I say?’

‘I suppose walking home in the moonlight is very romantic.’

‘In fact,’ I said, ‘Ryan thought you were the one with the romantic ideas. He said that showing me Venus was a classic move.’

Connor blushed. ‘Venus was the only light in the sky at the time.’

‘That’s what I told Ryan. I had to explain that you were my oldest friend and that there was nothing remotely romantic going on between us.’

‘That must have made him happy.’ He glared at his tiles.

‘He doesn’t care one way or the other.’ I sighed. ‘Come on, Connor. Are you going to make your move or not?’

Connor looked up from his tiles and met my eyes. The blush was still on his face. For a split second, I tried to imagine how I would feel about him if I didn’t know him so well. He was attractive in a beach bum kind of way – wavy blond hair, smattering of freckles on lightly tanned skin, clear blue eyes – and maybe if he wasn’t so familiar I would have liked him that way. The problem was that I knew Connor. Not just as the good-looking boy in front of me. I knew him as the little boy who had once had an obsessive interest in Star Wars, who still left dirty underwear all over his bedroom floor and had enjoyed a lengthy childhood habit of digging for nose gold and tasting the nuggets.

‘Eden,’ he said. He opened his mouth to speak again, but I cut him off.

‘I’m going to go and wash my hands before I eat any of that shortbread. If you haven’t made your move on the board before I get back, you’ll have to forfeit your turn.’

I dashed down the stairs and into the tiny bathroom at the back of the kitchen. After bolting the door shut, I filled the basin with cold water and splashed my face. Connor and I were friends. We played Scrabble together. We prepared for our exams together and sometimes went to the cinema. There had never been the hint of anything more from either of us and I probably wouldn’t even be considering it if Ryan hadn’t put the idea in my head.

Ryan hardly knew either of us. I had allowed my imagination to run away with me. Connor wasn’t going to say something embarrassing or try to kiss me. Smiling at my own paranoia, I unlocked the door and headed back up the stairs.