Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ladies, there is nothing in the world quite like the first kiss of a new romance. It is a crucial moment in a burgeoning relationship and, if done correctly, can decide your entire future together. Prepare your lips with a soft balm the evening before the intended kiss. Be passionate, but respectful. French kissing or nibbling is not advised at this stage.
Matilda Beam’s Guide to Love and Romance, 1955
By the time I meet Leo that evening, my head is full of romance and kissing and Burt Lancaster, who was actually really mega hot in his prime. I didn’t even get chance to sneak up to the attic to search for any Mum clues because the entire freaking day was filled with Grandma’s favourite sappy romance movies, pausing and rewinding and replaying the moment that the hero and heroine kiss so that I could learn how it’s done. It was ridiculous. I am thequeenof kissing. I have probably done more kissing than anyone else in all of London. And even if I wasn’t an expert kisser, people kiss loads differently nowadays. They don’tHollywood Kiss. They snog and grab arses and, you know, slip in a bit of tongue.
While I’m waiting outside Ladbroke Grove for Leo to arrive, my mind flits to Jamie. He tried to catch me on my way out of the house tonight. He dived out of the clinic door in his white doctor’s coat, stethoscope dangling from one ear, and said in this unusual anguished sort of voice, ‘Jess, we need to talk.’
But I pretended I didn’t hear him and legged it past and out onto the street, where I ran and ran until I reached the Tube station. Now is so not the time to deal with Jamie and his misapprehension about what ‘casual shag’ means. Especially not now that I have to speed up the project so that Grandma doesn’t get turfed out of her home.
I smell Leo before I see him. The scent of ginger and rosewood mixed with freshly laundered cotton.
Keep cool, Jess. Think of the women he trampled on before you. You are a warrior, remember.
‘You look amazing,’ Leo grins, shaking his head slightly as if he can’t believe his eyes.
Tonight I’m wearing a dress that I think has been inspired by a sailor. It’s a white shift dress with a pleated skirt, gold buttons and a blue anchor-patterned scarf tied round the collar, which accentuates my ridiculously sticky-out boobs. My hair has been gathered up into a white ribbon-tied ponytail that swings and bounces chirpily as I move. And, on account of it being the hottest day of the year so far and the fact that I must not, under any circumstance, catch any semblance of a tan, Grandma has insisted I use her white antique lace parasol to shield myself from the scorching rays. A fucking parasol. A member of the public has absolutelygotto point and laugh at me tonight. If they don’t then something very wrong is going on in this world.
Leo doesn’t even raise an eyebrow at the dorky parasol. He probably thinks it’s part of my ‘alternative’ style.
‘Hi.’ I give a simpering wave and try not to notice that he’s wearing a faded Van Halen T-shirt beneath the sharp navy blazer. Leo Frost likes Van Halen too? I assumed he’d be into gentle piano jazz or Savage Garden or some crap.
I do not like Leo Frost. I don’t. I don’t.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask pleasantly as we walk together down Lancaster Road.
‘There’s a showing ofGrease 2on at the Electric Cinema,’ Leo informs me. ‘That’s where we’re going. I know it’s a bit niche, but I always thought it was a far superior film toGrease 1. And it’s a really cool cinema.’
Must. Remain. Ladylike.
Grease 2is only in my all-time top list of favourite films. I cannot believe he’s taking me to a showing ofGrease Fucking 2.
‘I love 80s films,’ I say, marvelling at how much better this is going to be than a boring old dinner, and then feeling confused that I’m so excited about this date.
‘80s films are the best films,’ Leo agrees as we walk down Portobello Road. ‘I have this huge collection of DVDs.’ He pulls an over-the-top cocky face. ‘I’m actually a bit of an expert, you know.’
‘Ohreally. Have you seenThe Breakfast Club?’ I ask.
‘Standard.’
‘Better Off Dead?’
‘That film made me take up skiing.’
‘OK . . .’ I narrow my eyes. ‘You can’t possibly have watched . . .Teen Witch.’
‘Au contraire.’ He rubs his hands together. ‘Check it out.’ And then, to my utter surprise, Leo Frost starts to do the horrendously painful ‘Top That’ rap fromTeen Witch, complete with ridiculous dance moves.
‘I’m hot, and you’re not, but if you wanna hang with me, I’ll give you one shot, top that!’
Oh my God. What is he doing? He looks like an absolute loser!
But it’s really, really funny.
I laugh out loud as Leo raps super enthusiastically. Members of the general public cross the street to avoid him and a student starts filming him on her phone. I laugh so hard that I feel like my corset’s going to burst. Leo notices me clutched over with laughter and a flicker of pride flits over his face. Then he makes his moves even more hammy and outrageous.
I try hard to collect myself, to stop laughing and hold on to what Valentina said this morning, to be a warrior, to think about all the women Leo fooled before me. But the more he raps and dances and completely embarrasses himself in the pursuit of making me laugh, the more her warning sort of fades away.
