Forbidden

‘Did you remember to pack your mobile charger?’ I ask him.

‘Yeah, yeah.’

‘Remember to call us when you arrive, all right?’ Lochan adds. ‘And, you know, maybe again at some point during the week, just to let us know how you’re getting on.’

‘Yeah, yeah. OK.’ He slings the strap of one bag across his chest, the other onto his shoulder.

‘Have you got the money I gave you?’ Lochan asks.

‘No, I spent it.’

Lochan’s eyes widen.

Kit snorts with laughter. ‘You’re all so gullible!’

‘Very fu

‘Only if I’m caught! Right, I’m off!’ he yells before Lochan can respond, banging his way down the hall.

‘Bye-bye!’ Willa calls after him. ‘I’ll miss you!’

‘Bring me back a present!’ Tiffin yells optimistically.

‘Have fun and be good!’ Lochan shouts.

‘And careful!’ I add.

The door slams, shaking the walls. I look at the kitchen clock, catch Lochan’s eye and laugh. Half past eight: has to be some kind of record. One down, I think with growing anticipation, two to go.

After a forced breakfast, Tiffin starts bouncing around, saying it doesn’t matter if we’re early, Freddie won’t mind, we have to go! Willa takes refuge on my lap, picks at the dried cereal in her bowl and debates whether spending the whole night at someone else’s house is actually such a good idea after all. Especially given that she doesn’t like the dark, that she sometimes has nightmares, that Susie might not share her toys, that four blocks away is actually quite far if you decide you need to come home in the middle of the night. Lochan turns from the sink to look at us with an expression of such horror that I can’t help but laugh.

It doesn’t take me long to remind Willa of the benefits of spending the night with a friend from school who not only has a garden and a Wendy house, but also, apparently, a new puppy. Willa perks up and suddenly decides her new plastic tea-set will almost certainly come in useful and runs upstairs to add it to her bag of toys. As soon as she leaves the room, Lochan turns from the sink, up to his elbows in foam.

‘What if she changes her mind?’ he asks, stricken. ‘She’s never been for a sleepover before. She could throw a wobbly in the middle of the night or decide she wants to go home as soon as it gets dark. We’d have to go and pick her up—’

I laugh. ‘Don’t look so worried, my love! She won’t. Tiffin will be there, she adores Susie and there’s a puppy, for chrissakes.’

He shakes his head with a slow smile. ‘You’d better be right. If the phone rings, I’m unplugging it, I swear to God—’

‘You’d do that to your five-year-old sister?’ I gasp in mock outrage.

‘For one whole night alone? Jesus, Maya, I’d sell her to the gypsies!’

Laughing, I go out to fetch something from the hall table. ‘Guess what I’ve got.’ Gleefully I hold out my closed fist.

Lochan gently takes my hand in his. Uncurls my fingers. ‘A key?’

‘Mum’s key. I slipped it off her key-ring when she dropped by last weekend to pick up some clothes.’

His face lights up. ‘Whoa, smart move!’

‘I know! She’s hardly likely to turn up, but now we know that even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to get into the house!’

‘Pity we can’t lock her out for ever!’

After dropping the kids off at Freddie’s, I run like I used to when I was a child – wild and fast and free. My shoes splash through muddy puddles, spattering my bare legs with dirty spray, and old ladies, hunched under umbrellas, move hastily aside to let me pass, stopping to turn and stare as I go tearing by. The bland white sky unleashes hard, thick cords of rain, a freezing wind lashing the hard spikes against my face, making my skin sting. I am completely drenched, my coat flapping open, my shirt almost transparent, my hair dripping down my back. I continue ru

Slamming into the kitchen, I raise my arms in the air. ‘Wow.’ I stare at him, happiness threatening to burst from me like a stream of effervescent bubbles. ‘I can’t believe it. I literally can’t believe it. I thought this moment would never come.’

Lochan starts to laugh.

‘What?’

‘You look like a drowned rat.’

‘Thanks!’

‘Come here!’ He darts towards me around the kitchen table and grabs me by the wrist. ‘Kiss me!’

I laugh and tilt my head up as he raises his warm hands to my face.

‘Ugh, you’re freezing.’ He kisses me softly, and then a little harder. I’m aware of my hair, dripping all over him.

‘Let me get changed then!’

I turn and run upstairs to my room. As I retrieve my towel from beneath the pile of clothes, Lochan comes in and leaps onto my bed, then turns round to sit with his knees drawn up, his back to the wall. I rub my hair and dry my face, then peel off my soaked skirt, grappling with the top button with one hand, bending over to rummage for a pair of jeans with the other. Unable to find them, I realize that my button is stuck. With a sigh of a

I’m aware of Lochan getting up from the bed and coming over. ‘Jeez, you’re even more useless than Tiffin!’

‘It’s because it’s wet! I think this stupid shirt shrank in the rain or something.’

‘Hold on, hold on . . .’ His warm hands brush against mine, tugging gently at the sodden material. Shivering, I drop my arms by my sides and feel his fringe tickle my forehead as he leans towards me, head lowered, breath warm against my neck. His eyes are narrowed in concentration as, beneath his insistent fingers, the button finally starts to loosen. He continues to fiddle with it, his head still bent, and I can feel his breath quickening, heat radiating from his cheeks. The top button comes undone, and without looking up, he starts unfastening the next.

I am standing very still, acutely aware that neither of us have spoken for several minutes. A strange hum seems to fill the air like an unspoken thought hanging between us. Lochan is intent on undoing my shirt but seems to be having trouble, his hands unsteady. I watch his face carefully, wondering if we are sharing the same thought. When he gets to the third button, my shirt flaps open, revealing the top of my bra. I hear Lochan’s breath quicken as he continues to work his way downwards in silence, concentrating on his task. The edge of his hand brushes against the top of my breast; he is undoing the last button now and I’m aware of the rapid rise and fall of my own chest, the touch of his fingers through the thin, wet fabric raising gooseflesh all over my skin. My shirt falls open and he slides it off my shoulders, letting it fall to the carpet. Reaching for my bra, he suddenly stops, one hand hovering above my breasts, and from that one moment of hesitation I know.

‘It’s OK,’ I whisper, my voice suddenly weak. ‘I want to.’

His eyes dart nervously to mine, the blood hot in his cheeks, his expression a mixture of fear and longing. ‘Really?’

‘Yes!’

Tears and laughter swirl together inside me. I stroke my cheek against his gently, so gently that his skin feels like the wings of a butterfly. I close my eyes and move my lips lightly across his face, barely touching, so that my whole mouth begins to tingle. He closes his eyes too, takes a long deep breath and lets it out very slowly. My lips follow a path down his neck, into the hollow beneath his collarbone. His fingers tighten around mine and he lets out a small gasp. Raising my head, I softly kiss the corner of his mouth before moving away across his face. His mouth follows mine and I tease him, refusing to allow our lips to meet, until his breathing quickens and he releases my hand to cup my cheek and coax my mouth towards his. We finally start to kiss – soft, gentle, fluttery kisses. Shivers of pleasure run through my whole body and his hand trembles against my cheek. His breathing deepens, he wants to kiss me harder, but I resist, trying to draw this out for as long as I can. He touches my face, runs his fingers over my cheek, and we continue our small, feathery kisses, skin against skin, so warm, so familiar, so gentle, until he reaches up behind my back and unhooks my bra.