Dead Blonde Read online

  "Well? Do you like what you see?" she probed, but her tone was gently teasing not hostile.

  "Yeah, of course, well um…you're very attractive," he mumbled, his gaze dropping to his feet as internally he cringed. You’re very attractive? God he sounded like such an moron.

  She giggled then, the sound a high mischievous gurgle, "Very attractive huh? So why are you looking at your feet rather than me?" She smiled, looking directly at him as he looked up at her, a full ten megawatt smile that lit up her face to startling effect. He knew then, in that moment, that he was a lost cause, a goner for her. Perhaps she knew it too; perhaps she even delighted in knowing she had him exactly where she wanted him.

  Opening his mouth, he went to say something, though he wasn't sure what it was exactly he was trying to say, but she interrupted him.

  "Oh look here comes my bus," she said, and he looked up in disappointment, as he realized her bus wasn't going anywhere near the stop that he needed to disembark at in order to get home.

  "You getting on then?" she cocked her head to one side, giving him a quizzical grin as the double decker pulled up at the stop. He shook his head, regretfully.

  "Nah, I need the 37, mine'll be along in a minute."

  "Mmhmm, well I'll err see you in geography then," she said, giving him a little wink, as flustered he just stood there, nodding at her dumbly.

  Standing there, he watched her as she paid for a ticket and made her way to a window seat. The vehicle began to pull away, and she gave him a grin and a small wave. Then she was gone, as the bus drove off, taking her away from him, the back of the vehicle seeming to gloat in satisfaction at the prize it carried off.

  Next day at lunch he wandered through the yard trying to look casual, searching for her, hoping to accidentally bump into her. But though he looked high and low, he couldn't see her anywhere. On the verge of giving up, he decided to swing by the library, to return the book on medieval church life he’d borrowed to help finish his history assignment. Spotting her there in the corner, on one of the wooden study benches, he watched her, her golden head bent in concentration, the light from the open window caressing her creamy cheekbone as she sat there frantically scribbling notes.

  Transfixed, he stood there, in front of the checkout and returns desk, watching her breathlessly. Somewhere in the back of his subconscious he heard the librarian squawking "Can I help you?" at him. Sally looked up then, their eyes meeting, and she grinned, as he stood there, unsure whether he should look away and pretend he hadn’t been watching her, or smile back in return instead.

  There was no need to decide though, as she was on her feet, and making her way towards him, her walk catlike, almost predatory as she moved, leaving her open books abandoned on the bench. The blue and black plaid mini skirt she wore bounced against the tops of her thighs as she approached.

  "Well, well look who it is," she grinned, "fancy seeing you here."

  "Uhh, yeah well umm ...I was just returning this," he motioned weakly at the book in his hands. She smiled that maddening smile again. The one that seemed to say she knew everything, knew just how hard he’d fallen for her, knew all about his obsession with her. Knew how he dreamed about her at night, and thought near constantly about her in the day.

  "Oh get you all responsible,” she laughed, nudging his arm playfully, his body secretly burning in pleasure at her touch. Grinning he shrugged, trying to look casual, his confidence growing a little at her friendly demeanour, as he adopted what he hoped was a fairly humorous tone of fake machismo.

  "Oh yeah, well you know, gotta take care of business and all that…" his voice tailed off as she leaned in closer, to whisper in his ear.

  "Wanna come and take care of something else?" She pressed her body against his side, allowing her fingers to brush his, as the librarian coughed at them both disapprovingly. He felt a sudden rush of energy through his body as her flesh connected with his.

  "Uhh wh…what?" he floundered, he must have misunderstood her, surely, she couldn't mean? She placed her finger over his lips, silencing him, "I know you don’t wanna say no to that offer.” She leant in again, to plant a kiss at the side of his lip, a tiny peck. The librarian coughed again.

  “I’m gonna get my books then come with me yeah?" Nodding in reply, he just stood there, unable to do anything else, unsure of what exactly was going to happen next. Sally led the way out of the school library, walking quickly past the staff room, looking back at him to see whether he was following behind. Of course he was, he would follow her anywhere, didn’t she realize that? She started to run down the corridor, her arms held out as she ran, he fingers dragging across the walls and shut doors of the classrooms they passed.

  “Come on,” she called to him, over her shoulder. Faster and faster, past the media studies room, past the toilets, she ran, not pausing until she reached the classroom where they had geography lessons together. Stopping outside the door, she grinned at him before pushing it open.

  "Let's go in then," she said turning, and he followed her inside, her elegant fingers trailing across the tops of the tables, as she made her way through the rows of tables and chairs to the teacher’s desk. He watched as she dumped her satchel on the top of the heavy oaken desk, and used her hands to heave herself up, so she was sitting on the desktop. She was perched on the edge of it, her legs parted slightly as she swung them, and he couldn't help but notice the white cotton of her underwear.

  She caught him looking and winked.

  "You like watching me don’t you?" she said, smiling up at him from under long eyelashes, as she opened her legs wider. Dumbfounded he just nodded, unable to speak. He thought his heart might burst out and declare itself to her, so loudly was it thumping in his chest cavity. God he wanted her so badly.

  “I always wanted to do it in a classroom,” she giggled, “come ere,” she said, beckoning him with her index finger. Obeying her, he moved closer to her, completely pliable, under her control. Pulling him to her, she pressed her lips against his, taking his hand and guiding it to the warm, inviting, soft flesh between her legs.

  That had been his first time, with Sally that afternoon, his very first time, though he had kissed a couple of girls before on the estate. But that had only been in the teasing, jokey sort of way that kids experiment. It had felt nothing like it had done being with her. Felt nothing like the exhilaration he’d experienced, exploring her, his hands roaming over her body, her nails gripping the tops of his arms as she guided his fingers into her.

  He thought to himself that he would remember forever that moment, being with her like that. As he had held her he found himself taking a mental picture so vivid, that even now, all these years later he could still recall in pin sharp detail exactly what she had been wearing. Right down to the gold filigree scroll detailing of the little locket that she always wore around her slender neck.

  ***

  It was over almost as soon as it had begun it seemed, just like he had always feared it would be. It was odd, because when they had been together, for practically the first time in his life he hadn't felt like such an outsider. With her he felt like he belonged; belonged to her.

  It was Sally of course, who managed to make him feel so included, with her charm and her popularity, her easy, cool, manner. Everyone at school adored Sally; she was so full of life, and in possession of such a disarmingly attractive charm, that no matter who you were, if you spent time even a bit of time talking with her, you came away half in love with her.

  He realized this with crystal clear clarity while watching her from behind the water fountain in the yard one day, observing her as she chatted with the builders, who were working on the expansion of the new sixth form block.

  Watching silently, as she laughed at their jokes and laddish posturing, he saw the way they were grateful to her for it, the acknowledgement, and the attention. She always had a knack of making you feel special somehow. She made people feel at ease, everyone felt that way talking to Sally. It didn't really matte
r how old you were, or how young, whether you were popular or not, nor whether your father and mother were rich. Sally always acted like she was interested in absolutely everyone, and because of that she was impossible to dislike.

  Even though she was beautiful, with that cherubic face, and a slender, angular figure that most 16 year old girls would die for, you couldn't really envy her. Her beauty simply seemed right somehow, and he noticed that none of the girls talked about her behind her back, like they did about others who happened to have been blessed with a similar pulchritude.

  And everyone, from teachers to pupils, right through to the school dinner staff, had been devastated when Sally's body had been found. Discovered lying there by the train tracks, down by the wire fence at the end of the school field, on display, for passengers and pupils alike to witness.

  The police had questioned everyone, including him, but no one seemed to know anything at all. In the weeks that followed, wild theories abounded. The most popular one bandied around was that it had been one of the builders, a 25 year old lad with red hair to match his redder cheeks, who had been spotted talking to Sally a couple of days before she died.

  That hadn't been unusual though, Sally had talked to everyone. She was irrepressible, insatiable, with an appetite and curiosity for everything and everyone. Unfortunately, to his dismay, this interest in everyone had also extended to the area of sexual exploration.

  “Don’t someone might see.” Sally’s voice, that distinctive giggle, it was coming from the other side of the coats. Pausing coat in hand he looked through the jumble of clothing hanging from the pegs in the school cloakroom. A brown crew cut bending down to kiss her on the neck. The crew cut looked vaguely familiar. Who was she with?

  “So? They might wanna watch.” The crew cut looked up. John Mayes, cocky and confident, all the girls wanted to go out with him. Mayes, it was fucking Mayes, his slimy hands all over her. John Mayes was a bully, arrogant, and his father practically ran the PTA, so he knew he could get away with anything. Watching, he cringed as he saw the boy try and snake his hand up her skirt.

  “John, stop it, “she wriggled away from him, laughing. His stomach lurched.

  “Come ere,” Mayes reached for her, pawing her again as he pulled her to him. A wet, sucking sound, a kiss probably, and then more giggling. The sound of Mayes groaning in to her neck, god he couldn’t stand it much longer. Balling his fists, he stood there rooted to the spot, his cheeks burning, not daring to move, lest he might be discovered.

  “Oh my god John, stop it. You’re gonna get us in to trouble,” she said, but she didn’t push him away this time, reaching up to lace her arms round his neck instead. More of the wet sucking sound.

  He couldn’t stand anymore of this. Turning to go, his foot caught in the string of a discarded gym bag that was sticking out from under one of the long wooden benches that ran along the line of coats. Tripping over he hit the ground, his hands breaking his fall, but making a mortifying slap on the floor in order to do so.

  “John, stop, get off what was that?” Her voice was insistent. Don’t come round, don’t come round. Please. Mayes poked his crew cut around the corner.

  “You?” Mayes grinned down at him malevolently, “what the fuck? Were you spying on us? Oi, Sally, there’s a perv watching us. Does that turn you on?” Humiliated he hurriedly tried to scramble to his feet, dusting down his clothes as Mayes cracked up, laughing. Please don’t come round.

  “Oi, Sally. Come ere. Look who it is.” Please don’t.

  “John, what are you like?” But she was laughing as she got to her feet, peeking round the corner to take a look.

  “Oh my fucking god what are you doing here?” He wanted to die.

  “Wanna join in do ya?” Mayes again, shut up, shut up. He’d never live this humiliation down. Why didn’t she say something? Tell Mayes she wasn’t interested, say she wanted him instead.

  Standing there, he felt the veins in the side of his neck throb painfully, the back of his scalp constricted with tension, as the anger pulsing through him. Didn’t Mayes know what they had meant to each other? Rage spread over him in a furious wave, as he stood there watching, willing her to say something.

  “Yeah? What want some of this do ya?” Mayes motioned to his own crotch, swaggering obscenely and thrusting it forward. That was enough. Turning, he fled, grabbing his school bag, and running away from them.

  ***

  She hadn't promised him anything of course, but that hadn't made a difference, in fact that only made him feel worse, like he was stupid somehow for daring to imagine he’d been special. Confronting her about it at the bus stop the next day after school, she merely raised an amused eyebrow at him.

  “What’s the matter? We’re not dating or anything?”

  “But Mayes…”

  “What’s wrong with Mayes?”

  “He’s a prick.”

  “Yeah he can be an arsehole but he’s alright honestly. He was out of order talking to you like that though,” she said attempting to placate him.

  “He was way out of fucking order.”

  “Well I told him off. He didn’t get any more funny business from me that day,” she said, as if that made everything alright. Funny business. Was that all it was to her? Was that all he was to her too? Suddenly he’d found he was speechless.

  She didn’t shut him out after that that wasn’t Sally, she was far too generous. They still talked in the schoolyard at lunch, and he would visit her after school too, in the little bedroom of the small semi-detached house she and her mother lived in.

  Nor did she withdraw her sexual affection from him either, they met up for little secret fumbles quite often; in the music cupboard, at the bus stop after school, sometimes even in the school lavatories. He learnt to manage quite well on crumbs of her affection, even though inside he desperately hoped that one day she would see that he was the one, the only one for her.

  Then it had happened; the awful incident that had changed everything between them. He’d gone over to her house one Saturday evening after she’d telephoned his earlier that day.

  “I’m bored” she said, “come round to my house and entertain me?”

  He knew what “entertain me meant” when she said it in that tone and he didn’t need to be asked twice either. He caught the bus from the council estate to Sally’s house, and was admitted inside by her mother, a sweet faced woman, who’d brought Sally up single handed since splitting with her father when Sally was only eight. Smiling at him, her mother gestured up the stairs, a slightly pained expression on her face.

  "She’s in her room but could you please ask her to turn down that awful music, it's terrible, a wall of noise. I can't understand why would anyone want to listen to something like that?"

  The music she’d been talking about, he found out when he entered the room, was the album Live Through This by the band Hole. A band they both bonded over along with their shared love for several other similar alt rock bands, who were popular at that time in the 90’s when to be considered grunge was the height of cool. Courtney Love's throaty voice wailed out the menacing tones of the song Violet as he pushed open the door to Sally's bedroom.

  There she was lying on her bed on her stomach, long blonde hair spilling down over tan shoulders, her legs kicking up behind her as she painted her fingernails an inky plum. She sang along to the lyrics, her high voice blending with Love's throatier, rocker's one.

  “I told you from the start just how this would end," she sang, unaware of his entrance, "when I get what I want I never want it again."

  Feeling slightly guilty he coughed to make her aware of his presence and she jumped, the varnish tipping over on to the cover, spilling out like dark blood on to the stark white broderie anglaise of the coverlet.

  "Shit!" she said, grabbing for the box of tissues by the bed and trying to mop up the spillage. Catching her by the arm he kissed her full on the mouth. She pulled away, laughing in mock protest that she had to clean up the mess.


  He hadn't listened, had wanted her right then, despite Mayes, despite everything, his body still longed for her. Pushing her down on the bed, he got her onto her back, pinning her down and thrusting up against her, as she squirmed underneath him in mock indignation, their moans and pants muffled by the raucous music blaring from the little black boom box she kept on her desk.

  After, he decided to give it to her, the small package that had been burning a hole in his pocket all day long. He’d spent so long picking out the little necklace at the jewellery shop in town, after he’d saved up every last penny to buy it. He’d even begged bad tempered Mr Ramos at the newsagents if he could have an extra paper round in addition to his usual one.

  Keeping it in his pocket all that day at school, he’d tried to pluck up the courage to give it to her, attempting to get up the gumption to ask her to be his, just his. But for one reason or other, the occasion hadn’t seemed right and he’d lost his nerve, deciding to wait instead and present it to her away from school, somewhere they wouldn't be disturbed.

  Now as they lay crumpled up together he reckoned this to be his perfect opportunity. Reaching down the bed to where his jeans lay in a heap, he retrieved them, pulling them on hurriedly as he stood up, stuffing his feet into grubby white Converse trainers. His right hand flew to his trouser pocket, searching for the little red velvet box he’d stashed there. Sally rolled on her back lazily, staring at the ceiling.

  “I’m gonna get an F in Geography you know,” she mumbled in a distracted way.

  “Why you gonna get an F?” He kept fumbling, where was it?

  “Haven’t handed in my coursework.” Locating what he was searching for, he took a deep breath, thrusting the small, red box under her nose awkwardly.

  “Here, I got something for you.”

  She stared down at it, not saying anything at first, then smiling up at him, took the little box and opened the lid, exclaiming in pleasure at the gold necklace set with pearl that was nestling on the black satin cushion within.