Heart of Glass Read online

  ***

  The night was still and the air cool but not too cold. The car radio was playing “I got you and that’s all I want….” and Ben and I sat in the front seat of the car looking out to the moon, shining it’s reflection onto the water. In the distance on the other side of the river, I could see the streetlights twinkling like the lights from a thousand glow-worms. This would be the perfect spot, I thought as he slid across the seat and put his arm around my shoulder, if we were going to do it.

  Curving his hand around my face, Ben turned it to his and from the look he gave me, I knew he was thinking the same. His eyes were sparkling in that devilish way and I tensed; my worry and confusion eclipsing any sense of excitement I might have felt.

  “Did you enjoy your birthday?” he asked.

  I sat in silence. I didn’t care about presents and birthdays. I wanted confirmation. I longed to know the answer to a question that had been bugging me for a long time. “Why did you choose me? You could have any girl you want. I’m a nerdy little mouse, boys don’t like me.”

  “You’re beautiful to me, Bella and I don’t want any other girl. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

  I glowed, lit up by his words.

  “Especially, when you smile like that.”

  I looked at my hands, my mind awhirl.

  “Do you want to go home?” he questioned.

  I shook my head, this time looking into his eyes and thinking it was time to tell the truth.

  “No, I want to stay with you but I’m afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of how I feel and how you feel and this whole thing.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid, Bella. I only want to be with you. I would never do anything purposely to hurt you.”

  Then he kissed me, the pent up yearning inside him seeping into me, urging me to trust him, and desperately trying to show me how much he cared. And I knew that no matter what happened my heart would always belong to him.

  ***

  Ben arrived at my house early the next morning. I was feeling desolate about him leaving, even thought the holidays were just around the corner and we were sure to see each other often.

  “You’ve changed me,” he said as we sat hand in hand on the front steps. “A few months ago, I would never have imagined having a girl like you. I’d never even thought about having a serious girlfriend at all, I was having too much fun. I think you’ve hypnotised me with your smile and your laugh and your eyes.”

  His arms wrapped tightly round me. “I won’t be back for a few weeks. I’ve got to prepare for the exams, but I’ll ring you as much as I can and we can see each other over the holidays.”

  It wasn’t an excuse; I knew he had to knuckle down and yet my lip dropped to my chin in that childish pout and my eyes misted over as if it was unexpected. Another minute and I’d be reduced to a slobbering, begging, blob clinging to his leg as he left. I tried to control it.

  “I suppose there’s no choice but will you be able to come to the Christmas Ball with me? I don’t want to go unless you’re my partner.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “The best part about the Christmas Ball is afterwards. The girls who attend are allowed to stay out all night to see the sunrise, no questions asked. It’s a tradition. We can be alone together for a whole night.”

  “Then I’ll plan something special, we’ll make it a night to remember.”

  Pulling away, he opened the door of the car. “I have to go. It’s a long drive home.”

  “Will you call me when you get home?” My eyes appealed. A lone tear trickled down my cheek. I made no attempt to wipe it away. “I miss you already.”

  “Geez, don’t make this any harder, Bel’. I don’t want to go either but you know I’m always with you. If you need me, I’ll come. I promise. My heart is yours.”

  “Ben?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I love you.”

  The deafening silence that followed filled the space between our lips. He dashed for the car so fast it was hard to believe that a moment before I’d been in his arms. Clearly, the ‘L’ word was as taboo as marrying your sister.

  “I’ll see you at Christmas,” he said.

  Chapter 9

  LONG AND WINDING ROAD

  Don’t leave me standing here

  Lead me to your door.

  The Beatles

  If you dangle the promise of ball gowns and dream dates to a group of ninety-three hormonal girls, you’re bound to be met with a favourable reaction. Frenzied and overexcited, but favourable all the same. Such was the case during October and November at St. Brigid’s School for Girls. As the end of year descended upon us, we began preparations for final gradings and exams. But the importance of these paled in comparison to the excitement generated by the Christmas Ball. Even the fact that I was a leper was of no great consequence. That Ball and the hunt for the perfect ‘come-and-get-me-dress’ were foremost in my mind. I wanted to look perfect. Yes, I’d decided Ben and I were going to make love under the stars. It was to be my secret Christmas gift to him.

  True to his word, Ben rang me as often as he could. I would have liked to return to favour but the fire-breathing dragon that patrolled his house (his mum) had threatened to scorch my insides if she caught us on the phone again. She didn’t like me. I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure that out.

  “What’s new Pussycat? How are you?” he asked.

  I throbbed. I always throbbed when Ben called me Pussycat.

  “I’m fine. I miss you heaps. Are your parents out?”

  We both knew the score. Ben wasn’t meant to be talking to me. I was a distraction in his plans. But he was old enough to make up his own mind, and to try to justify the enormous phone bill from our clandestine conversations.

  “They’ve gone to a dinner. I wish I was with you, talking on the phone isn’t the same as having you in my arms and kissing you all over.”

  It was my turn to smile. Trust him to bring sex into the conversation. “That would be nice.”

  “It would be more than nice, Pussycat.”

  I blushed and twirled the phone cord between my fingers. For some reason, I found intimacy awkward even if it was over the phone. How was I going to surrender my virginity if I couldn’t even hold a lewd conversation without blushing? I changed the subject.

  “I heard a new song the other day. It’s our song, Ben. I’ve sent you the single in the mail. It’s called Babe. It’s by Styx.”

  “Not some soppy romance trash, is it?”

  “Yes, but this one is about us….wait till you play it. I know you’ll think of me.”

  I heard him groan. “Geez, Bella. It’s all I ever seem to do.”

  “Good. I like to be fresh in your memory. You studying hard?”

  “Yeah. A few more weeks and it’ll be over.”

  I was silent. Success in the exams would be bittersweet, for Ben would leave to live in Melbourne and I would never see him again. If he failed, on the other hand, we could stay together. But what good would that be? I didn’t want his dream to be crushed.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  “I’ve been super busy.” Apart from the dress, there were shoes, handbags, nails and hair to consider. I needed a bigger budget and Mum wasn’t coming to the party. According to her, I wouldn’t even remember the night in five years, so why waste the money. I knew she was wrong. The ball was to be a night I would never forget.

  “I hope you have time to think of me,” he said.

  “You know I do. Sometimes too much.”

  “What do you think about?”

  I quivered at the soft tone of his voice. “Kissing you. What about you?”

  “You know what I think about, Pussycat. You just won’t let me do it.”

  “Ben!”

  I heard him chuckle. “You’re blushing aren’t you? Sometimes you’re so straight.”

  ***

  It was a Long an
d Winding Road that lead to the Ball, and about a month before it began to take some unexpected turns. One day the path was smooth and a week later, it had more twists and bumps than a country lane. The incident that began it all, of course, involved Lucy. Didn’t the world, after all, revolve around her self-absorbed slutty persona?

  All I could think about, as I ran along the hall to Biology, was Ben and the Ball. Who cared if the rest of the world ignored me, if I had Ben nothing else mattered. The girls could tie me to the flag post and force me to wear Kmart shoes and I wouldn’t care. Tiptoeing over to my seat next to Lucy, I prayed that my lateness wouldn’t be noticed. The class were sitting with their frozen frogs on trays before them, readying themselves to make the first incision.

  Mrs Gibson, a spidery woman with white hair, that we were sure was permanently superglued into the bun on top of her head, looked up over her glasses, noting the time by tapping the face of her watch.

  “I presume you have some reason for your late arrival, Annabelle? Your lab partner has been waiting for you.”

  “Sorry, Miss Gibson. I got held up.” The old duck would have blown a gasket if she knew the reason for my lateness was because I had been in the library finishing a letter to Ben.

  “See that it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Yes, Miss Gibson.”

  As we followed the instructions for the procedure, a quiet hum of conversation spread around the room and Lucy leaned close. Her face was pale and drawn, not her usual ‘Queen-of- the-School’ self. “I’m glad we’re partners for this assignment.”

  Her scalpel gleamed in my eye. Jack the Ripper probably said that to his victims, too.

  “Look, I know I was a bitch to you about Ben. I want to apologise for everything. I’m truly sorry and I hope it goes well for you, really I do….” She looked as if she was going to cry I hoped she would. It would make my day to see her blubber a bit.

  “….Can you ever forgive me?”

  My scalpel fell onto the tray with a metallic clang and I stared at her over the dead frog. Her mouth was twisted into some sort of maniacal grin. At any moment she’d thrust that scalpel into my heart and Ben would be hers for eternity. I was puzzled. We had been thrust together for the assignment by some strange twist of fate. I’d never expected to have to make conversation. What did she want me to say?

  During the lesson, I watched her being nice to everyone, thereby creating the first rut in the road. It was impossible for me to be mean when she was acting all angelic. Her niceness even filtered into the unchartered waters of the nerdy group, who were as bewildered as I. Derision and snide remarks were so commonplace as Lucy’s blondeness flew by, that they didn’t notice them any more. As we picked up our books and headed for English, I decided that it was probably time to speak.

  “Apology accepted, Lucy. But you should know you hurt me. I never did anything to deserve it and none of the lies you spread are true. Everyone thinks I’m some sort of tart.”

  “I know, I’ll tell them it was all lies. I’m sorry. Can we be friends again?”

  “I guess so.”

  We continued to walk in silence. It was the best that Lucy could expect from me for a very long time.

  ***

  It was when the potholes came that I panicked. The ball was in five days and my partner had gone A.W.O.L. A nagging feeling inside warned me that something was wrong. Something even more dire than Lucy transforming into Miss Congeniality, and that was bad enough. I tried to call Ben only to be headed off, at the pass, by the dragon. It was a sad reflection on her imagination when the best excuse she could invent was “he’s indisposed.” I may have been young but I was never considered stupid. Why wouldn’t Ben talk to me? Had I scared him off with the ‘L’ word? The insecurities I had felt came rushing back and the potholes got deeper and deeper. I wasn’t pretty enough. I wasn’t old enough. And worst of all…. Oh my God… I was frigid!

  “Ben’s a liar,” I said, as I picked the soggy tomato from my roll while Lucy and I ate lunch. In truth, it was me eating lunch, as Lucy watched. She’d been off her food a bit recently. Some sort of stomach bug. “He didn’t mean a word of the things he said. He never wanted to be my escort.”

  “Haven’t you heard from him yet?”

  “No, and Mum’s breathing down my neck. I can’t hold her off much longer.”

  Lucy chewed on her manicured nail. “Have you tried Paul?”

  “I did, but it’s so hard to have a conversation with him, since he and Prue have become Siamese twins. I can’t believe Mrs Sullivan lets him stay over when he’s in the city. Hell would have to freeze over before Mum would let Ben sleep within ten blocks of our house.”

  “That’s only because Mrs S. is so happy someone has shown interest in her ‘frumpy’ daughter. My mother wouldn’t give a shit where I was, as long as I go to church on Sundays.”

  Don’t forget confession, I thought. Lucy’s confessions could keep the church in business.

  “Well, anyway, Paul said he hasn’t seen Ben since the exams.”

  Lucy hesitated. “I’m not going to the ball, you could stay home with me.”

  I knew that she’d become withdrawn of late, refusing to share her misery but this was way out of character.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “There’s nothing wrong, I’m fine.”

  “So, why are you spending so much time in your room, then?” I didn’t know what was up with her but there was only so many times in a week a girl had to shave her legs and Lucy refusing a chance to dress up was about as likely as the Pope standing up and announcing he was no longer Catholic.

  “Why won’t you go to the ball with Dan? He’ll be so upset.”

  “It’s none of your business. I don’t want to go to the ball, that’s all. I’m absolutely fine.”

  What a joke, I could see she wasn’t.

  ***

  With four days to go until the Ball, I was knee deep in dread. I couldn’t face the Ball if I had no partner. Then I heard a voice on the other end of the phone, though muffled and quiet, I knew it was Ben.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in the hall cupboard.” He sneezed. “It’s so dusty in here and the smell of fertilizer

  from Mum’s gardening boots is rank.”

  “Why’re you in the cupboard?”

  The boy was eighteen after all. Hadn’t he heard of public telephones?

  “Fuck Bella, it’s all such a mess… Hang on, I have to get these coats away from my face.” I heard him straining. “Everything’s going wrong. I passed my exams but I didn’t get enough subjects to get my matriculation certificate, so I have to repeat Year 12. The folks are fuming. They’ve forbidden me from seeing you. They threatened to send me to a boarding school next year to repeat.”

  Poor Ben, his parents put so much pressure on him to succeed. Then it hit me. This wasn’t poor Ben, it was poor me. “But the Ball is in four days. What’re we going to do?”

  “I don’t know, I’ll think of something. Don’t worry, okay? The main thing is to stay calm.”

  As if! My life was about to end, how could I remain calm? Hanging up the phone, I ran to my room and threw myself to the bed, sobbing until my gut wrenched in pain. My life was ruined. Ben’s parents would never reconsider.

  When I missed dinner that night, Mum was instantly suspicious. Sitting herself on the end of my bed, she put down the tea towel and studied my tears stained face.

  “What’s up honey? I can tell something’s wrong?”

  With a lip that wouldn’t stop wobbling, I told her about Ben’s phone call. Mum’s face was the same colour is had been the day I’d announced I was giving up French in favour of Drama. “What do you mean you’re not going to the ball? I thought everything was organised? That dress cost your father a fortune, not to mention the shoes and the ticket and the hair appointment. I knew that boy would let you down.”

  “It’s not like that….it’s not his fault.”

  I tried my
best to explain the truth of the situation, or what I knew it to be, but it was difficult to do without becoming emotional. I was so cross and upset that a childish tantrum was not out of the question.

  “You know that your father and I believe Ben is too old for you, Bella, but he always behaves responsibly when he comes to visit. I think something must be done to resolve the situation.”

  I hoped that meant something good. Mum and I weren’t often on the same wavelength when it came to conflict resolution.

  “I’m going to ring his parents and see if we can’t find a compromise that will make us all happy.”

  I beamed, hugging Mum close, something I had not done in a very long time. Sometimes, she could be so surprising, almost human.

  ***

  Whatever Mum had said to The Dragon it worked, for three nights later, there we were, twirling across the dance floor. All eyes were on us, and no wonder. Ben looked divine in his dinner suit, his blonde hair luminous against the black of his jacket, his tanned skin more obvious with a white shirt and tie. I could see the envy on the other girls’ faces. They would have committed acts of gross indecency to get what I had, but there wasn’t a chance in hell. Ben was mine.

  “All the girls are watching you. You look so handsome tonight.” I kissed his shoulder as he swept me around the floor. “I feel as if I should pinch myself. It’s like a dream.”

  “Well, every guy here is checking you out, too. I’m gonna to have to keep a close eye on you, I think.”

  We danced on, and for a while Ben was quiet. His hand was firm and reassuring in the small of my back, sliding every now and then to touch my bottom when the chaperones backs were turned. “You look like an angel, and you’re my angel.”

  I must have been an angel, for real life could never be so perfect.

  That night I became the temptress. My pink satin gown was floor length, strapless, and fitted tightly to my torso, exposing my chest in a most alluring way, or so the shop assistant had remarked. I would have preferred ‘drop dead sexy’ but with Mum being cast in the role of Nazi dress code enforcer, ‘alluring’ was all I could hope for. Whatever, I knew as soon as I saw it that I had to have that dress and from the looks Ben was giving me I could see I’d been right.