The First Last Kiss (13 page)

I pull myself up so my head is resting on the arm and look at him quizzically. ‘What?’

‘Move in with me, Molly!’

‘WHAT?’ I am struck sideways with shock. This is not what I expected. We’ve been dating a month. The best month of my life. But only a month. And I’m not meant to have a serious boyfriend. Especially a serious boyfriend who I’ve known since I was fifteen. It’s not part of my Life List.

Ryan turns my face to his and looks into my eyes, all joking now gone.

‘Give notice on your flat and move in with me, babe. I wanna be with you all the time.’

‘You’re crazy!’ I exclaim.

‘I’m not crazy!’ he laughs. ‘I’m in love. I love you.’

My jaw drops open, I’m sure I am dribbling. I am dumbstruck for the first time in my life. He Loves Me! Me! The social leper with a bad haircut and attitude! Me! The girl whose camera was her best friend until Casey came along. The girl who was convinced her first kiss was a humiliating dare. The girl who thought she’d never get the guy.
The girl who dreamed of more than what a man could give her
, my teen self reminds me.

Not any more, I tell her. That was then. Now all I want is Ryan.

‘So what do you say?’ he presses.

And I don’t know why, or where it came from, or why I’m not listening to my gut instinct that is saying I’m too young, I’ve got too much to do, too much I want to achieve. But somehow, without me even thinking it and for once, propelled by my heart, not my head, nor my mouth, my answer comes out of my mouth.

‘YES!’ Final answer. We kiss and I feel like a millionaire.

The Kiss Over The Threshold

It’s a strange thing to have your future all wrapped up in a parcel and tied with a bow when you’re twenty-two. ‘Here’s your perfect man, life, home!’ But I grabbed it because I knew a good thing when I saw it. There was no doubt in my mind, not back then anyway.

FF>> 19/01/02>

We’re standing in the sweeping driveway of the Cooper’s house and in front of the enormous double garage that Dave has spent the last two months converting into a one-bedroom flat for Ryan and me.

Jackie smiles at us all. ‘I announce this garage – I mean Ry and Molly’s annexe – officially OPEN!’ She cuts the red ribbon that she’s put across the brand-new door, and Ryan, Dave, Nanny Door, Carl, Lydia and I clap and cheer. Despite the cold January weather, a flood of warmth bursts through my body. Jackie waits for the clapping and Carl’s shouts of ‘Shag pad!’ to die down to speak again.

‘Ry and Molly,’ she begins, clasping her hands together as if she is the Queen giving her annual speech. Dave stands beside her silently with his arms folded over his ample stomach, blue eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and pride. ‘I just wanna take this opportunity to welcome you both to our house,’ Dave glances sideways at her and she gets the hint, ‘I mean, your house. And your new life together as a co-habiting couple! And my Dave and I wanna wish you all the love and luck and happiness in the world, my darlin’s. And to say, you know where we are if you need us . . . ’

‘Yeah, too bloody close!’ calls Carl. I giggle as Dave unfolds his arms and jokingly clips the back of his eldest son’s head.

Ryan takes the key which Jackie has put on the end of the red ribbon, unlocks the front door and we step inside.

‘So, what do you think?’ Dave is grinning at us as we stand in what used to be their garage, turning around in amazement to look at the beautiful modern living space he’s transformed it into.

‘Dad, it’s wicked!’ Ryan exclaims and throws his arms around him. They slap each other on the back and turn to face me, one arm still hanging over each other’s shoulders.

‘It’s incredible, Dave!’ I kiss him on the cheek and he squeezes me tightly. And it is lovely, it really is. It’s such a sweet thing they’ve done for us. I still can’t believe it was only two months ago that I left my rented flat and moved into Ryan’s room at his parents’ house.

I always said I’d rather die than move back to Leigh, turns out I just needed to get sick. Lovesick, that is. Not everyone was as happy as I thought they’d be about our decision though.

The Saturday after Ry asked me to move in with him, I went round to Casey’s mum’s café. I thought she’d be as excited as me when I told her my big news. The lunchtime rush was over and Toni, Casey’s mum, had said she could take a quick break. It upsets me that Casey’s still working there. It’s always busy (due more to Toni and Casey’s flirting skills rather than their serving ones) and I know she didn’t get the grades for college, but she’s quick-witted, funny, and I know she’s got far more going for her than being her mum’s greasy-spoon slave.

‘Is that such a good idea?’ she’d said quietly, gazing into her tea when I told her my news.

I tilted my head and looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, don’t take this the wrong way, but . . . it’s just a bit soon, isn’t it? You’ve only been going out a few weeks!’

I’d bristled at this. Raw nerve. ‘But Case, I’ve known him for
years
. He’s not just some random that I’ve met in a nightclub and gone home with, you know.’

I hadn’t meant for this to be a dig, but I knew as soon as it came out of my mouth that’s how it sounded. Casey had coloured at my words, her olive skin taking on a dark berry tinge that matched the café’s walls. I’d flapped my hands apologetically. ‘Sorry, that’s not how I meant it to come out.’

She’d smiled graciously. ‘It’s alright, Moll, I
know
I jump almost instantly into bed with men – mostly because I’m worried they’ll change their minds – but that’s my point! I jump into bed, not their
houses
. And especially not their
parents’
house.’

‘I know it’s fast, Case, but it already feels like we should have got together a long time ago. Now we are, neither of us wants to waste any more time.’

‘OK,’ she’d smiled at me, but it held none of its usual sparkle. ‘I’m just looking out for you, babe. BFFs remember?’ She links fingers through mine and I smile, thinking of our childhood, child
ish
devotion to each other. ‘I just wanna make sure you know what you’re doing. You’ve never shown any signs of wanting to live with a guy before, and it’s a
really
big deal. You know how much you love your own space, you sure you’re going to cope with being with someone 24/7?’

‘We’ll both be working. It won’t be that different at all,’ I’d said brightly.

Casey had just raised her dark eyebrows and stared at me, her uncharacteristic silence speaking volumes. ‘And what about your mum and dad?’ she’d said after the long pause. ‘Do they know yet?’

I’d shaken my head at this. ‘No! I haven’t spoken to them for ages! You know me and my folks, ha ha!’ I am trying to lift the mood because I hate that Casey is the one bringing me down. I expect it of my parents, but not Casey.

‘Ryan wants us to go round there together soon as he doesn’t want Mum finding out from someone else, it would be super-awkward at school for Ryan otherwise, what with them working together and all.’ I still find it weird that Ryan’s a teacher. Ryan Cooper a teacher! A PE teacher. It’s like Danny Zuko ending up as Coach Calhoun.

‘So when are you going to?’ she’d pressed. ‘Tell them, I mean.’

‘Soon, today, now. Argh! Can I have something stronger than a Coke before I go?’ I groan. ‘I’m going to need it.’

‘They’ll be cool about it. Ryan’s a diamond guy – and he’s a teacher. Not much to complain about there.’

‘Yeah, but we’re not
married
. . . ’ I make the sign of the cross and roll my eyes. Casey knows how much I struggle with my parents’ religious beliefs.

Casey had laughed and hugged me as I’d stood up. ‘I’m glad you’re happy, I am, babes. I just thought it’d be me first, I mean, you’re meant to be having the career, I’m meant to have the husband, remember?’ She pulls away and gazes at me intently. ‘Just remember, you’re only twenty-two, you don’t have to rush into anything . . . ’ And she tapped her left finger and then patted her stomach.

‘What? NO!’ I’d exclaimed. ‘Don’t be crazy, Case! I’m only moving in with him, there’s loads we want to do before we even think about that stuff!’

‘You’ve talked about it then,’ Casey had said quietly.

I’d blushed. I didn’t want to admit that Ryan and I had planned our entire life out one night when we were in bed, said all the places we wanted to go, all the things we wanted to do, named our babies, our cats, even numbered our grandkids. We’d written it all down as a list in my diary. Molly and Ryan’s Life List. Ryan figured it was time for a new one, now the one I wrote at uni is a bit out of date. And not much had changed from the original. Not really. We’d laughed a lot as we swapped the pen between us, adjusting each other’s comments.

Molly’s Life List
and Ryan’s!

Go to Australia

Live in New York
– go to New York

See the shops, sights and museums
and see a New York Giants game!

Be a photographer!!!

Go to a cup final
(er, you can do that on your own!)

See Take That! Live
(impossible unless we go back in time, Ry. They’ve broken up and Robbie will NEVER get back with them. So get over it!)

Go to a film premiere!!

Meet Tom Cruise
(Ry, you are not and never will be the Goose to Tom’s Maverick.)

Buy a flat in London
(or Leigh?!!)

Then buy a house in London
(or Leigh
)

Have babies some day
soon, at least two. A boy and a girl!

And then the banter had begun.

‘OK Ry, boy name – go!’

‘Champ.’

‘No WAY! He’d get bullied.’

‘Yeah babe, Champ Cooper, you gotta admit it’s a winner’s name! OK, what would you call a girl, then?’

‘Xanthe.’

‘Bless you – but what’s your girl’s name?’

‘Ha ha, very funny. That’s her name, Ry. Xanthe. Xanthe Carter . . . it’s cool and different. Not like boring Molly.’

‘OK, if you say so, babe, but it’d be Cooper. Champ Cooper and Xanthe Cooper, OK?’

‘Done. What about dogs?’

‘I prefer cats. What about Harry and Sally?’

‘Ooh, I like it!’

I looked at Casey. No, I’d thought, best I don’t tell her about that.

‘Just think, Case!’ I’d said instead, enveloping her in a warm hug, ‘we’ll see loads more of each other now!’ She’d nodded in acknowledgment of this then smiled dully and extricated herself from my embrace, turning her back on me as she’d started loading the dishwasher.

Telling Mum and Dad hadn’t been much better. Even though Ryan had come with me and had used his abundant charms to warm them up, praising their ‘lovely house’, asking Mum about school and Dad about art exhibitions, the atmosphere had still been decidedly frosty. I’d looked at my perfectly ironed, primly presented, old-before-their-time parents sitting opposite us. We’d held hands smiling at them as they stared seriously back, clutching onto their teacups, digestive biscuits perched on the saucers (oh, how I wished that once, just once, Mum would buy an interesting, fun biscuit like, say, a Jammie Dodger). Suddenly, my mouth had twitched and I’d snorted, trying to fight back an awful uncontrollable urge. It’s a knee-jerk reaction of mine when I feel uncomfortable. Luckily Ryan is used to it.

When Ryan explained that we were moving in together Mum had just pursed her lips and stared pointedly at my (bare) left finger and Dad smoothed down his hair and looked out the window, as if he wasn’t even there. No changes there.

‘I presume you know that we don’t approve of living together before marriage,’ she’d said, directing her primitive, prurient view at Ryan.

Ryan had smiled and nodded. ‘I appreciate that, Mrs Carter, and I respect your beliefs, I do, and I hope you know that I sincerely believe marriage will be the next step we take. I love your daughter and see us being together for a very,
very
long time.’

I’d glanced at him, then, slightly freaked out by the way the conversation was going. We were too young to be talking about marriage! But Ryan squeezed my hand gently and I felt immediately calmer. He wasn’t about to propose or anything – thank God – he just knew how to handle my parents. I decided to leave him to it. If I opened my mouth it would only end in an argument. Like always.

‘Well, Patricia dear, it does seem to be the modern way,’ my dad said slowly, smoothing his combed-over hair again and opening his book. The conversation over in his eyes. My dad is a man of few words. When he does speak it always feels as if he has spent hours ruminating on his words before putting them in a sentence. Sometimes it can make him seem almost prophet-like, at others, like a mute.

My mum had tutted and fiddled with her cross. ‘I suppose I can’t stop you, I know my daughter well enough to realize that would only make her all the more determined to disobey me . . . I never have been able to control her. But I can’t say I’m not disappointed.’ She’d paused and glanced around the room, before her pale-grey eyes settled on mine. ‘I had just hoped for so much more for you, Molly dear.’