Lighthouse by Alison Moore Read Free Book Online Page B

never spoken, except for the very first time he saw her, when he got in her way on the stairs and she said, pushing past him, ‘Fuck’ or ‘Fucking’ something. With her irritated face an inch or two from his, she had looked right at him and said through lightly glossed lips, ‘Fuck’ or ‘Fucking’. He had noted the incident in his diary along with her sugary scent. She had not been in any of his classes but he used to catch sight of her at the school gates, in assembly, in the corridor, and sometimes – through a classroom window – on the sports field.
    He had discovered her first name. Sometimes he walked home behind her, mentally composing his diary entry for the evening: Angela was wearing a red jumper and a grey skirt and had her hair in a ponytail. Or, Angela was wearing a white blouse and grey trousers and her hair was shorter.
    Kenny – who had always had girlfriends, sometimes more than one at a time, even in junior school – would have whistled to make her look round, to make her smile or at least notice him. He would have spoken to her, made her laugh. But Futh was not Kenny. He kept her in sight but kept his distance, as if he were a private eye. He was so focused on her, blinkered, that he did not pay attention to where he was going. When Angela disappeared into her house, he stopped and looked around, finding himself on a strange estate, wondering where he was. Keen to get back and update his diary, he turned around and tried to retrace his steps, succeeding only in straying further and wishing he had gone straight home from school.
    In the sixth form, Futh attended an open day in the Faculty of Science and Engineering at the local university. He was in the lecture theatre, gazing at the back of Angela’s neck instead of at the person giving the welcome and introduction, when a movement beside him caught his eye. Turning, he found Kenny sitting down next to him. Kenny, whom Futh had not seen for years, had changed in some ways – he had a chipped front tooth and a stud in his nose; he said that he had pierced it himself. But in other ways he was just the same – he had a bit of a gut, and bike oil on his hands.
    ‘So there you are,’ said Kenny, as if Futh were the one who had gone away. ‘My mum said you’d be here. And she said you’ve got my old compass. Do you know her?’ Futh was confused and then realised that Kenny had seen him staring at Angela. He sensed that he was about to be teased.
    ‘I know her from school,’ said Futh.
    Now Kenny was looking at her too. Angela, as if she had a feeling that she was being observed, turned around and saw Kenny watching her while Futh glanced away.
    The welcome came to an end and everyone left the lecture theatre and gathered in the foyer in little groups. Futh saw Angela leaving her friends and coming over. Standing next to Futh, looking at Kenny, she said, ‘Do I know you?’
    ‘He knows you,’ said Kenny, indicating Futh.
    Angela glanced at Futh and then turned back to Kenny and said, ‘I don’t know him.’
    ‘We go to the same school,’ said Futh.
    ‘Do we?’ said Angela.
    Futh nodded. ‘We’re in the same year.’
    ‘I don’t recognise you,’ she said.
    This wasn’t surprising, thought Futh. Shortly afterwards, Angela wandered away and Futh looked down at his schedule to see what he should do next. Kenny said, ‘You can keep my compass. I got a new one anyway,’ and when Futh looked up again he found that Kenny had drifted off too.
    Kenny did not in the end go to university, and when Futh started his chemistry course that autumn, he discovered that Angela was not there either. He did not see her again until she picked him up at the motorway service station.
    In the car, he reminded her of their encounter at the open day.
    ‘I don’t remember,’ she said.
    ‘Do you remember me from school?’ he asked.
    ‘No,’ said Angela.
    ‘We were in the same year.’
    ‘I don’t remember you,’ she said.
    ‘You might