Looking for Alex by Marian Dillon Page B

so sure.’
    He pushes the door to behind him. ‘Alex has changed,’ he says brusquely. ‘She’s not a little schoolgirl any more. Go home if you don’t like it.’
    I dig my nails into the palm of each hand, the hard wooden window frame against my back. ‘I came down here because Alex wanted me to and I’ll go back when I said I would. And if she wants to come with me, then it’s up to her, isn’t it?’
    Pete sighs, and rolls his eyes. ‘You should know by now that Alex is better off here than she was at home,’ he says. And then, ‘Ever thought about why she couldn’t tell you anything? Miss Perfect?’
    He flicks the door open and is gone. I slump down on the bed and stare miserably at the paisley print of my sleeping bag, tracing its pattern over and over with one finger while Pete’s words spin round my mind like a stuck record. I hear him arguing with Alex, and even when I hear them go out I sit brooding until, over an hour later, Fitz comes looking for me. I hardly hear the door open; I’m in some kind of trance.
    ‘Beth? Can I come in?’ He stands by the bed. ‘What happened?’
    ‘Pete happened. I argued with Alex and then I argued with him and then he said that Alex couldn’t ever tell me stuff because—’
    ‘Hey…don’t let him get to you.’
    He sits down next to me and takes one of my hands in his. His is small, fits mine perfectly.
    ‘Maybe I should go home now.’
    ‘Do you want to?’
    ‘I don’t know. I won’t know how to act, knowing all this and pretending I know nothing.’
    ‘I suppose you’ll have to face that some time.’
    There’s a strange comfort in this logic. Today, or next week, Alex won’t come with me, and I’ll have to carry on my ordinary little life that’s changed for ever.
    ‘I’ve got five more days,’ I say. ‘What’s the point, though? I might just as well go.’
    Fitz squeezes my hand. ‘Stay.’
    He leans over and kisses my cheek. Turning towards him, I see a self-deprecating smile on his face, his head tilted, bird-like, to one side. I can see that with one word from me he will back off, that he’s preparing to retreat already. I know that things are going to get horribly complicated and that the five days left will take on a completely new significance. I move my face closer and meet his lips in a chaste, still sort of kiss that is unlike any I’ve had before.

Chapter Four
    1 st August 1977
    I’ve not had many boyfriends before, never got beyond messing about in the park or in some quiet little corner at the disco, although I was tempted, once or twice. I knew other girls at school were having sex, I’d hear them talking about it in loud voices. Sometimes Alex joined in with them and I’d say, Alex, is there something you haven’t told me, and she’d say no but she wasn’t going to let them think they were having all the fun.
    Now I know I want to sleep with Fitz. The knowledge that soon I’ll be boarding the bus back home helps to concentrate my mind.
    We lie on his bed, kissing, hands exploring, until I begin to ache with wanting him. And then we are pulling at each other’s clothes – zips and buttons, hooks and eyes. It’s like something I have to get out of the way, this first time, and we only pause long enough for Fitz to ask if I’m sure, and for him to find a pack of condoms, and then it’s over quickly, too quickly.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ Fitz says. ‘It’ll be better next time. I’ll be better next time,’ which is when I realise I wasn’t the only one to be nervous.
    I say it doesn’t matter, next time’s fine, which is sort of true, because for the moment I’m revelling in just lying here next to him, loving the feel of his skin on mine. I place my head against his chest, and hear the thud of his heartbeat gradually slowing. As Fitz trails his hand down my belly I look up at him, and a wide smile spreads across my face, like butter on toast. Fitz grins.
    ‘I think you could get used to this,’ he