![]() I tell her how I felt being so far away and that I was aching to get back, even though I didn’t know what would be waiting for me. But then she says that in one of my postcards I wrote about going to a party with some Italian teenagers and she didn’t like that, and then she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She tells me she wrote to me not long after I went to Italy for the Easter break to tell me to forget about her and that nothing could happen between us. Probably a good thing, because anything more energetic and it would be all over very quickly, for me. “You’re completely naked and your skin’s all olivey and milky.” I say the first thing, anything, that comes into my head. I don’t care that I’m looking her up and down, I’m probably salivating like a cartoon dog, but I can’t believe she’s all naked in front of me. You’re … ” I want to say something nice in return. “It’s the sun, I expect, and my sister dyed it … it really doesn’t matter. Perhaps sensing my self-consciousness, she speaks, and her voice is warm and sexy. I want to make excuses for looking ridiculous with swimming trunk tan lines, and not being built like the first XV boys. Then, without hesitation or any look or pause, she takes me to her bedroom and undresses me. I forget trying to find words to say and let myself soar. Once or twice she holds my head and looks at me intently, then kisses me again. We stand in the hallway for ages, just snogging. She grabs my hand and pulls me in, kicking the door shut behind me, and before I can say a word or take off my jacket, she’s kissing me. My Spanish teacher, Miss P – Ali – is standing in the doorway, looking flustered. ![]() ‘Just going out to see Nick, friend from school, might stay over, bye!” Ned and Celia, the family friends I’m staying with, barely look up from their enormous dining table.
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