Tybalt and Juliet Ch. 07

"And you're right," I continued. "We were stuck in a rut, and maybe that wasn't anyone's fault, and exams certainly didn't help. But now we're free and when we see each other, we won't be sitting across a table with a mountain of books and revision notes! We're gonna have an amazing summer together and it's gonna be so much fun!"

"Oh Jake, that's so wonderful," she said. "I was really worried I'd upset you."

"No you didn't upset me," I lied, putting my arm over her shoulders. "You said what needed to be said."

I kissed her forehead.

"I really love you Amy, I want this to get even better," I said.

"I really love you too Jake," she smiled. "And I can't wait for Saturday!"

--

Saturday afternoon: The day of the Prom. The day that, apparently, every girl in our year group had dreaming of since they'd joined the school. The day I'd been anxious about since the beginning of term.

I crunched up the driveway in my dress suit and black bow tie, carrying the box from the florist with Amy's corsage and my buttonhole. My dinner jacket was a little tight across the shoulders and I mused that either my Dad was a size smaller than me or it had shrunk over the years. I was a little nervous, but was looking forward to the evening.

Rob, Amy's step-dad, answered the front door and greeted me with a smile.

"Come on in Jake! You look very smart," he said. "Amy's upstairs with Jenny, doing her hair - could take hours!" he confided.

I followed him down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house.

"I'm just cooking supper for the twins," he explained. "They're watching Doctor Who at the moment. Have a seat," he motioned to the pine table.

"Water?" he offered.

"Thanks," I said. He filled three glasses with water and brought them over, sliding one across the table to where I was sitting.

"I think this is the part when I say that it my step-daughter isn't back here by midnight, I'll be after you with my shotgun," he quipped, "but as I'm picking the two of you up at eleven o'clock, it'll be my fault if you're not home on time!"

I forced a laugh. He'd clearly been thinking of that joke all day.

"I've printed out the map for you, and here's a copy of the invitation with all the timings," I said, trying to look conscientious.

"Oh don't worry about that," he said. "I know where I'm going, besides, I'm sure it will run over -- you'll still be partying at half eleven."

I said nothing, but thought it unlikely that the teachers from our school who'd been pressed into policing the event would want to stay a minute longer than necessary.

Rob opened the oven door and removed a tray with fish fingers and chips, before serving them onto two plates.

"I'll just go and call the boys," he said.

Ben and Tom, Amy's eight-year-old step-brothers, scampered down the hallway into the kitchen, stopping abruptly when they saw me in my dress suit.

"Are you and Amy getting married?" asked one. (I wasn't sure which, I still couldn't tell them apart, even after three months.)

"Not yet," I said. "Maybe one day, but not for a long time."

"Why are you wearing a bow tie?" asked the other.

"I'm going to take Amy to a dance this evening, it's called a Prom," I explained.

Apparently satisfied with my responses, the twins raced to the table and started tucking in to their supper.

"Jake," I heard Amy call from the top of the stairs.

Rob smiled at me as I got up and made my way to the door.

I walked down the hallway, my heart beating a little faster. I'd already seen Amy in her Prom dress on the night that we went to dinner at The Crown, but with her mother's help for her hair and make up, her appearance had been transformed to another level.

"Wow, you look so beautiful," I gasped. My heart somersaulted with love and joy.

Her silver necklace with the aquamarine pendant sparkled as she began to walk carefully down the stairs. I reached up as she neared the bottom few steps, taking her hand in mine.

"I love you so much," I said simply.

"I love you too Jake," she replied.

I lead her down the hallway to the kitchen and I heard her mum's footsteps beginning to descend the stairs behind us.

The boys looked up from their suppers and we entered.

"I like your dress," said Ben.

"You look beautiful," said Tom.

Rob had obviously told them what to say.

"Oh, thank you," Amy smiled shyly.

Jenny entered the kitchen behind us.

"Oh, hello Jake," she said. "You look very smart."

"Thank you," I said blushing. "Now there's just one more thing before we're ready." I picked up the box from the florist, which I'd left on the kitchen table.

The rather strict shop assistant had told me that under no circumstances was I to attempt to help Amy to put on her corsage. Instead I was to offer her mum the opportunity to add the final finishing touch; to complete the ritual if you will.

I opened the box to show them the corsage and buttonhole.

"Ah Jake, it's beautiful!" Amy squeaked with delight.

"Would you like to help Amy put it on?" I asked Jenny.

"Of course," she smiled. My girlfriend offered her wrist and her mother tied the ribbon to secure the bracelet of flowers.

Then I presented the buttonhole to Amy and asked her to help me attach it to the lapel of my dinner jacket.

Finally our outfits were complete and, holding hands, we turned to face her family.

"You two make a very handsome couple," said Jenny, with a beaming smile. "Let me take some photos of the two of you together in the garden."

Amy and I posed in front of various shrubs and trees. Most of the photos were of the two of us together, but for some we posed on our own and in one Amy was joined by her two step-brothers, who were a little nonplussed by the fuss being made of their step-sister and her boyfriend. Finally I took some pictures of mother and daughter together.

My phone rang; it was James telling me that the limousine was about three minutes away. Time for a last-minute check in the mirror in the hallway, then the six of us (me, Amy, Jenny, Rob, Ben and Tom) trooped out into the front garden as the vehicle drew up at the end of the driveway.

I held the door open for Amy and she climbed in. I followed, shutting it behind me. Then we waved to her family as we set off. I thought I saw her mother turning away and bringing her hand to her eye, as if to wipe away a little tear.

--

It was only a ten-minute journey from Amy's house to the Prom. The venue was a chain hotel on the ring road, certainly not the most glamorous of places, but affordable for the school. It was squarely aimed at the mid-range business traveller; any tourist foolish enough to want to stay the night in our town would generally end up at The Crown.

The event itself would take place in the Banqueting Suite, which was a separate building to the main hotel, across the car park. There was a large dining area, which could take around a hundred and forty people sitting around circular tables of eight. Lauren had plotted our group at the start of the Summer Term (two months earlier); Amy and I would be sitting with Danny and her, as well as Libby and Derek and Nick and Frankie. Having set out with the intention of creating a 'table of nerdy singletons', the irony was that with the various new romances and break ups in the past term, Lauren had managed to create one of the few groupings composed entirely of couples. (Some tables had had to be substantially altered at the last minute, to work around relationships that had ended since the start of May.)

There was a relatively large foyer to one side, with a bar across the back wall, where we'd congregate before the meal started and receive our free glass of low-alcohol punch. (Later the bar would be open for students to purchase 'limited' alcoholic drinks, whatever that meant.) The professional photographer that the school had hired would initially be stationed in the foyer, to take photos as everyone arrived and Lauren's photo collages would be on display on boards along one wall.

The limousine turned off the main road and slowed to a crawl as we joined the queue of vehicles waiting to drop off their attendees in front of the Banqueting Suite. If it had been up to me, I would have jumped out there and then to avoid the wait, but for the girls it was important to be able to gracefully exit the limousine and then to walk up the red carpet. They spent the delay complementing each other on their dresses, hair and make up, while we cynical males gave each other meaningful looks.

--

I've never been a photos guy, never. The whole selfie thing is still a mystery to me. Why anyone could be so vain as to want to document their life in that way seems utterly bizarre. Amy was the exact opposite. She'd take a dozen photos every morning before breakfast and like twice that number posted by others on social media. I suppose it was understandable; it was the way she kept in touch with the friends from her previous school and perhaps without that regular online interaction, the bond between them would have faded. Pretty early on in my relationship with Amy, it became obvious that this was one area where we'd have to compromise. And by compromise, I do of course mean that I'd give in to every one of her pleas to take 'just one more photo'.

But if there was ever a time that I was close to being converted to the cause then it was that night, the night of the Prom. Maybe it was just that I'd rapidly downed two glasses of champagne in the limo, maybe it was the spectacle of a hundred and forty of my classmates, all dressed in their ball gowns and tuxedos, or the fact that even I, the most cynical student in the school, realised that the memories we were making would last a lifetime.

So there were photos, hundreds of photos, firstly with the professional photographer - she took a very good one of the six of us who'd travelled together in the limo and then photos of the individual couples. After that we mingled with the others, taking any and every opportunity to pose with groups large and small, even with students we didn't know particularly well. James and I even press-ganged our Physics teacher (who was trying very hard to look like he was enjoying himself) into having his picture taken with the two of us, plus Derek and Libby.

I temporarily lost sight of Amy as she went off to join a group of girls from her English class and watched as Lauren and Danny posed for what must have been their fortieth picture together. I was suddenly conscious of someone looking at me, not in a menacing way, but slightly nervous, as if wanting to talk to me, but not sure if he could or should. He stood a little apart from the rest of the students, as if somewhat bewildered by the melee.

I walked across to him. "Hey Billy," I said. "Let's get a picture together."

He looked at me a little anxiously. "You sure?" he said.

"Yeah, of course" I replied, putting my arm across his shoulder and bringing him across to where Danny and Lauren were standing. "You know, maybe when we're old men, we'll look back at this photo and wonder why we hated each other so much."

"Oi Lauren," I said handing her my phone. "Take one of me and Billy."

My cousin gave the slightest hint of a raised eyebrow but complied. Then, to my surprise Billy offered her his phone too.

"Sorry, would you mind?" he asked, a little nervously. "I'd quite like one as well, if that's OK."

Photos taken and phones returned, I put my hand on Billy's shoulder again.

"Hey, if I don't see you again," I said, "good luck for Durham."

"Yeah, same for you at Cambridge," he said. Then for the first time in his life, Billy Smythe smiled at me, a warm genuine smile. Then he disappeared back into the crowd of students.

--

I located Amy again by the photo collages that Lauren and Danny had compiled.

"Hello beautiful," I said, coming up behind her and lightly kissing the top of her head.

"Oh, hello lovely," she smiled as she turned to me. "I was wondering where you'd got to. I've been looking at these pictures," she said, "I can't believe how young you all look!"

Amy pointed to a photo of James, Danny and me, all wearing school uniform; it must have been taken within a week or two of us starting Secondary School.

"How old were you then?" she asked.

"That's Year 7," I replied. "The three of us would have been eleven - that's really early days, that is."

"You look so cute," she said. "Your hair was a bit lighter then. And that's Danny? I didn't know he wore glasses!"

"He mostly wears contacts now," I said, "but sometimes if I go round to his house in the evening or at the weekend he's wearing them." (Best not to mention Becky, the reason why Danny had ditched the specs in the first place - all that was long forgotten now.)

We continued to look through the photos, moving from left to right as the pictures became more recent. There were a good number from the play, and Lauren had asked to use many of the shots that I'd taken of the actors having their make up done. There was a good photo of Ritchie (as Romeo) with Billy (playing Mercutio) on stage together during the dress rehearsal. There were some pictures from lessons too -- a particularly candid one of Libby and Derek together during a Physics experiment from a couple of terms before, which quite clearly showed his interest in her.

Amy gasped. "Look," she said, "it's us!"

And so it was. Pride of place in the centre of the final board, was a photo of the two of us performing together at the concert at the end of our Spring Term of our Lower Sixth - me on the guitar and Amy with the Bodhrán. I was singing, looking out into the audience, but the camera had a full view of Amy's face, watching me intently as she waited for her cue to join me for the chorus. The look in her eyes was unmistakeable - a look of admiration and love.

"I fancied you so much," she admitted. "I was really hoping you'd dump Lauren and go out with me instead!"

I laughed and put my arm around her. "You look so beautiful in that photo," I said.

She turned me. "And you look pretty fine yourself!" she smiled.

I bent down to kiss her on the lips for the first time that evening.

"I love you Amy," I said looking deep into her eyes, "I really do."

She reached up and tickled my nose, an affectation she'd picked up from Rachel and Stijn. "I love you too Jake," she replied.

I looked up, catching sight of a tall figure glowering at us intently from the other side of the room.

Ritchie!

My stomach lurched.

He curled his lip in disgust, anger and hatred burning in his eyes. I held his gaze defiantly for a few seconds as I embraced my girlfriend tightly. Then the crowds of students between us closed together and he was lost from view.

Amy laid her head on my chest, oblivious to it all.

--

Lauren and I had agreed to sit on opposite sides of our table, partly because this was the best way of keeping an eye out for Ritchie, but also because we saw so much of each other, it would be good to talk to the other two couples in our group.

Amy sat immediately to my left, with Derek on her other side. It turned out she knew Derek by sight, as they played in the town orchestra together, but she hadn't recognised his name when I'd first mentioned that he might join our table. I had been a little worried that he and Libby might be too quiet (and to be honest, a little boring), but the two of them had undergone something of a transformation over the course of the term and were chatting away animatedly to Amy.

I turned to Frankie, sitting on my right side. "I haven't seen you since the play," I said.

"No," she said. "That's terrible really. I used to see you so much, with being friends with Lauren."

"I hear congratulations are in order," I said quietly, nodding my head towards Nick, who was in deep conversation with my cousin.

Frankie blushed. "Thanks Jake. It all happened during Study Leave and, well, it's early days, but it's really good so far."

"That's fantastic, I'm really happy for you. Honestly, Study Leave has a lot to answer for, all anyone's done is either split up with their partner or start going out with someone new! No one's done any work."

"You mean except boring people like you and Amy?" she teased.

I blushed.

"Congratulations to you as well," she said. "Don't worry, I got all the details from Amy on Wednesday."

"Oh?" I said, wondering if Amy might even have told her about Ritchie's antics at the cast party.

"Apparently she lost her key and you broke in through her bathroom window," Frankie said, raising her eyebrows.

I nodded a little embarrassed. No, Amy hadn't told her about Ritchie.

"I'm not surprised. Didn't you break into Danny's garage when we were in Year 7? Hadn't he locked his sister in there or something?" she pressed.

I laughed. I remembered the incident well. James and I had been at Danny's house one afternoon when his parents had gone out. Emma must have been what, eight or nine at the time, we'd have been eleven or twelve? She'd been particularly bratty all day and Danny had locked her in the garage so the three of us could have an hour of peace and quiet without her pestering. But Danny being Danny had forgotten where he'd left the key, so when Emma started screaming the place down, I'd slipped the catch on the up-and-over steel door to let her out before the neighbours complained. Danny had been in a shitload of trouble from his mum over that incident and it had been two years before James and I were allowed to go round to his house again!

"I can't believe how much Danny has changed," I sighed. "He almost looks sensible now!"

Frankie followed my gaze. "You know, they're one of those couples that no one would ever put together, but somehow they really work."

"You think so?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "I think they might go the distance; they'll certainly surprise us."

--

The waiters began to clear the plates from the main course, so I pushed back my chair and headed to the bathroom. Having relieved myself in the urinal, I washed my hands in one of the basins, moving to the mirror to adjust my quiff.

Maybe it was the influence of the champagne from the limo and the wine we'd been served with the meal, but I allowed myself to linger a little to admire my reflection. There was a healthy glow about me from being outside at the Campsite all week. Amy was damn lucky to have such a buff boyfriend, I thought.

There was the sound of a toilet flushing and then a click as the lock on a cubicle was slid open.

I turned. Ritchie stepped out, blocking my exit from the bathroom.

My heart sank. This was the moment that I'd been hoping I could avoid. I shuddered.

"Ah, Jake," he said. "I thought I could smell the sweet scent of cow shit!"

Not this again, I'd thought he'd grown out of the 'Jake smells of manure' jibes two years earlier.

"Amy Norton, nice little stunt you've pulled there, Jake," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Mind you, she's so frigid, I can't imagine you've got anywhere near her stunt!" he sniggered.

"Hilarious Ritchie, now fuck off and let me go." I made to pass around him, but he shoved me with his shoulder, pushing me up against the wall. Quick as a flash, he grabbed one of my wrists and twisted it behind me.

"Hey, not so fast my little friend," he sneered into my ear. "Running back to your little cousin are we? Gonna get her to protect you? She's not interested any more Jake! I hear she's shagging Danny! Danny! I mean for fuck's sake, you were such a lousy lay that Lauren went for fucking Danny?"

"Tell me," he whispered, "what feels better, Amy giving head or fucking a sheep?"

The red mist of anger rose within me. I jabbed my free elbow back into his stomach. The first was a weak blow, but he flinched a little in surprise, giving me more space to make my second jab harder.