LITMIR.BIZ

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putting on lipstick and doing fancy things with your hair if you are then going to ruin it all by behaving like some kind of social retard.

      At first, what with me being almost completely retarded—i.e. not saying a word—and Alex speaking so little English, it seemed like we were doomed to sit in awkward silence. I sought frantically for something to say, but my brain seemed to have gone into a state of permanent hibernation. If it hadn’t been for Alex, we might never have said a word from start to finish. He ordered two cappuccinos, then smiled at me across the table and said, “I glad you here. I think maybe you not come.”

      I said, “W-why would you think that?”

      “I not—” He waved a hand. “I not sure you like me. I not sure…you want see me. I hope—but!”

      I said, “B-but?”

      “If you not here…” He smiled again, and my heart started on its walloping act. “I understand, but I be unhappy. I happy when I see you! I wait ten minutes…quarter hour. I think, she not come—”

      “You’ve been waiting quarter of an hour?” My voice suddenly squeaked into action. “I wasn’t late, was I?”

      “You not late. I very stupid! I come early.”

      I said, “I could have come earlier, if you wanted.”

      “Then I be even more early!”

      He grinned then, and I giggled. He was making such an effort in a foreign language I couldn’t just leave him to struggle along on his own. By the time we’d drunk our first cup of coffee we were having almost a real proper conversation. I asked Alex where he came from and he said, “I come from Poland, from a leetle veellitch.”

      I didn’t understand at first what he meant; I couldn’t think what a leetle veellitch was. Alex said, “Leetle?” and held up a finger and thumb, about half a centimetre apart.

      I said, “Oh! Little.”

      He nodded and said, “Yes! Leetle. A leetle veellitch.”

      I got it, then. “A little village.”

      We both laughed. Alex said, “My accent…not good. You teach!” So then we practised saying “A little village” until he had it right.

      “You good teacher,” said Alex. “You speak good. I understand! Sometime—not so good.” He made quacking motions with his fingers. “Like duck! I not follow. You like person on radio!”

      I told him that was because of Mum and Dad being actors and always going on at us to speak clearly.

      “You going be actor?” said Alex.

      “Me?” I said. “No way!”

      “Why no way? You pretty! You be good actor.”

      I got all embarrassed when he said that. I wish I could accept compliments gracefully! I couldn’t even shake my hair over my face to hide my stupid blushes. Quickly, I changed the subject. I said, “Tell me about you! Are your mum and dad over here? Why did you come? Don’t you miss Poland?”

      “I miss at first,” said Alex. “My mum and dad, they stay. I call every day. I very…what the word?”

      I said, “Homesick?”

      “Homesick! I very homesick. Now not so bad. Specially now not so bad.” He grinned as he said that, and I started blushing all over again!

      So why did you leave?” I mumbled.

      He hunched a shoulder. “No job. No money. My family…not rich. My dad, he not well. My mum, she work. Not earn much. No future. Not good. This—” he opened his arms—“this the place to be. Good job, earn money…pretty girl!”

      He took my hand across the table. Hot tingles ran up my arm. A woman sitting nearby caught my eye and smiled at me. I smiled back.

      “I want come last year,” said Alex, “but my mum, she say wait. She say when you seventeen, then you go. How old you?”

      “Me? I’m…fifteen. Nearly sixteen!” The words were out before I could stop them. I would have given anything to take them back, but I wasn’t brave enough. It would make me look silly. But why did I say it? Why? Who would believe I was nearly sixteen? I did have my hair up, and I was wearing lipstick, and I know that I do look quite a bit older than my age, but…nearly sixteen?

      I waited with heart hammering for Alex to laugh. Instead, quite seriously, he said, “So you still in school?”

      I said, “Yes,” and pulled a face, as if I’d rather not have been.

      Then he did laugh. He said, “Me, I free…no more school! No more lesson! Out in the world.”

      “I wish I could be,” I said. It was absolutely not true. I like school! My tongue just seemed to be running away with me. Alex asked me if I’d like another coffee, but regretfully I said that I probably ought to be getting home. I could have rung Mum and pretended I was staying on at Katie’s, but I already felt nervous about lying to her. Alex wanted to walk me back, so I said “just to the corner” in case Mum or Dad—or Ellie! Just as bad—happened to be looking out of the window.

      It seemed for a moment, as we got to the corner, that he might be going to kiss me. I think I wanted him to. That is…I wanted him to want to! After all, it was what people did on dates. But in the end he changed his mind. Or maybe he hadn’t ever been going to. Did that mean he didn’t fancy me? Oh, God, please don’t let it mean that! Please!

      And then, very solemnly, he said, “You like see me again maybe?”

      At which my heart gave this massive leap and I said, “Yessss!” and we immediately agreed that we would meet the following Saturday, same time, same place.

      Alex said, “I look forward,” and he squeezed my hand, very hard. And that was when I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was about to fall in love…

      I was aching to tell someone! Ellie was coming downstairs as I let myself in. She said, “Ooh, you’re all pink.”

      I nearly cried, “Yes, I’m in love!” But I managed to restrain myself. It would have been absolutely fatal to let Ellie know.

      Even as it was she felt the need to go and tell Mum that “Tamsin’s all pink…pink as a raspberry!” Which of course just made me go even pinker.

      Mum laid a hand on my forehead and said, “I hope you’re not sickening for something.”

      I gave a silly little giggle of excitement.

      “You are just so weird,” said Ellie. She turned to Mum. “We don’t want her throwing up, or anything. D’you think she should stay at home this evening?”

      I wouldn’t actually have minded staying at home. If I’d stayed at home I could have wallowed in the bath, listening to music and dreaming. But Mum wouldn’t hear of it.

      “It’s a celebration,” she said. “We’ve all got to be there.”

      So we all trooped up the road to Giovanni’s to eat pasta and drink champagne with Mum proudly explaining to anyone who would listen that “Ellie’s just been on the television!” She did it jokingly, but I could tell that underneath she was simmering with a quiet, mumsy-type pride. I have to admit, when I saw the thing later, Ellie did look good. She was a natural! And I guess it was quite something to have the camera pick her out twice, in such a huge crowd of people. I didn’t begrudge her her little moment of triumph. I might have done, once; but not any more. I didn’t begrudge her anything any more. She could be on TV as much as she liked. I was going out with Alex!

      I made a resolve that I wouldn’t say anything to Katie even though I was bursting to let it all out. I could see that she didn’t want me splurging all over her. I was quite surprised, at first break on Monday, when she dragged me off to a quiet

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