Heya guys, just want to apologise b’cos this chapter is rather dull and short – sorry xx

 

Chapter 8

 

The next evening I found myself down the road, sat in Gillian’s bedroom eating my favourite meal – spaghetti bolognaise with garlic.  We were never allowed it at my house as my Mum didn’t like the smell of garlic.  I remember once when I had been only about 12 or 13 I had made a garlic loaf in Food Technology, Mum had made me eat it in the garden, and I was so chuffed about eating garlic that I had eaten the entire French stick by myself.

 

So there I was happily sitting on the bed, with the tray full of steaming food balanced on my lap.  I’d normally go round Gill’s house at least once a week and we’d gossip and watch the soaps together.  Even though she was a year younger than me we got on so well, she was the only girl around my age that lived in Horsmere and so when I wasn’t out with my friends I’d be spending time with her.

 

Gillian was perfect looking; she was tall and very slim.  Not the kind of slim that has resulted from an unnecessary diet, she just looked natural and toned, and with her long blonde hair she actually looked like she should be Australian rather than British.

 

It seemed that this time however we wouldn’t be having such a relaxing evening, Gillian’s mother had other plans.

 

Gillian’s Mum was very much an older version of her daughter.  She was also tall, athletic and had long blonde hair.  She was one of these mothers that would always volunteer to help out on school trips when we were younger, always raring to go and up for anything.

 

On this particular occasion she appeared at the bedroom door dressed in a tracksuit and clutching a ball tight in her hands.

 

“Come on girls, it’s a lovely evening you shouldn’t be sitting cooped up in here.”

 

“Yeah we should,” Gillian replied, curling an extra long bit of spaghetti round her fork and flicking bolognaise all over her white bed sheets.

 

That was when Gillian’s mother decided to take control, reaching over she grabbed the television remote off the bed and turned it off. 

 

She then frog marched us out of the house and we set off down the road.  Gill and I a few metres behind her, grumbling about how we had to leave half a plate of food behind.

 

One by one we stopped at doors along the road, picking up various kids as we went.

 

This was village rounders.

 

Gillian’s Mum had decided to set up an unofficial village rounders club a few weeks before ... I’m not sure that club was really the right word for it though.  I think clubs are things you want to join … rounders was more of a thing that we had been bullied into attending.

 

We now found ourselves playing it at least twice a week for a few hours after school.  We’d collect most of the kids from around the village and would all set off to the park.

 

The park was the opposite side of the village from Paradise.  It was situated down a quiet road that lead up towards the Old Mill.  It was a pretty good park for such a small village, I think we got some kind of Lottery grant and so a zip slide was built which proved to be many hours of amusement.  It was also set against a large playing field … the home to our new rounders games.

 

I didn’t really know many of the other kids that played rounders with us, they were mainly 3 or 4 years younger than me so I didn’t have a lot to do with them.  If it wasn’t for Gill and Simon these rounders games would have been rather tedious.

 

As usual, we had managed to sit out the game and so chose a patch of grass to sit on and watch.  We rarely actually joined in and picked up a bat, we were only really there to help supervise the vast amount of kids that seemed to flock to the park each time a game was called.

 

“Bloody freezing out here,” I moaned to my companions

 

“That’s what happens when you play rounders in February,” Simon agreed, “don’t think the ground is really designed to be sat on in Winter.”

 

I shuddered a little and pulled my coat tighter around me.  Noticing immediately Simon moved closer towards me and extending an arm surrounded me in his thick fleece, until we were snuggled up together under its warmth.

 

This I could get used to!

 

“What’s going on with you two?” Gillian asked, noticing the intimacy.

 

My mouth opened as I got ready to spiel out the usual line of “we’re just friends” but I stopped myself and instead glanced at Simon.

 

“Are you like going out?” she pressed.

 

“Nope, we’re just seeing each other,” Simon answered.

 

He smiled at me, “we are seeing each other aren’t we?”

 

I wasn’t really entirely sure what we were doing, so far it seemed to be very little.  And what was the difference between going out and seeing each other anyway?

 

He took hold of my hand under the fleece and gave it a little squeeze, well whatever it all meant I liked this feeling of being wanted so I agreed with what he said.

 

“Yep, we are seeing each other.”

 

He grinned at me and I rested my head on his shoulder, loving the feeling that finally I had someone to be with.

 

“Oi oi! Look who’s turned up!” Gilliam exclaimed, breaking my moment of content.

 

I looked up and saw Rupert Adams running towards the game followed closely by older brother Ben.

 

“What’s he doing here?” I snarled.

 

“He doesn’t normally come to rounders,” Simon observed, “must be bringing his little brother along, maybe he’ll go in a moment.”

 

However he was wrong, Ben it seemed had decided to stay, not only that but he had now taken off his jacket and taken up a place on the fielding team right in front of us.

 

“Nice arse!” Gill commented as she smiled happily at the view in front of her.

 

“Not you as well!”  Simon retorted.  He was the only person I knew who hated Ben just as much as me.

 

“Yeah I know he’s an arrogant idiot, but hell he has a nice arse, don’t you think so Kim?”

 

I looked at Ben’s bum … yep I guess even I had to admit it was pretty nice.  It was packed nicely into his tight jeans and was lovely to gawp at.

 

“Thanks,” Simon said, standing up quickly and storming off down the field.

 

“What did I do?” I turned to Gillian, who was watching my ‘sort of boyfriend’ move further away from us.

 

“I think you staring at Ben’s arse with your mouth wide open pissed him off a little.”

 

“I was not! Anyway, you were the one that asked me what I thought.”

 

“I didn’t ask you to examine it in detail.”

 

“I was not,” I argued.

 

“You were – I could practically see the drool coming out of your mouth.”

 

Tutting at her I set off at a quick run after Simon, finally catching him up near the sandpit, despite shouting he refused to turn around so in the end I had to launch myself at the back of his legs, pulling one of his trainers off in the process.

 

I giggled with glee and ran in the direction of the sandpit, his trainer clasped in my hand.

 

“Where are you going with that?” he asked, suddenly deciding to pay attention to me.

 

I ignored the question and instead plonked myself down on the sand and began to dig a large hole, placing the trainer inside it.

 

“I’m burying your trainer,” I said simply and began to sweep up piles of sand around the hole.

 

He walked towards me and lunged at the trainer, and although I was too quick for him he still managed to grab hold of my arm.

 

“You mad at me?” I asked

 

“A little ticked off,” he replied.

 

“I’m sorry,” I returned his trainer, but his arm was still holding onto mine.

 

“No its OK, I know that every girl on the planet likes Ben.”

 

“But I don’t!” I insisted.  “I much prefer you.

 

“You do?”

 

“Yeah, I hate Ben and I really really like you.”

 

He smiled at me and his face returned to the sweet one that I had grown to like so much.

 

“Fancy a go on the swings?”

 

I agreed, leaving Ben as nothing more than a blob at the other end of the playing field.