OVER the next year or so Sarah Huntington became a regular fixture at the Hilditch house. Margaret's motherly instinct took over and her oldest daughter wasn't much better. Jane, in her final two years at school, became the young girl's "big sister" watching over her.
As confident and forthright as she was in her own world, at school she was awkward and emotionally stunted. The other girls were discovering boys and growing up, experimenting with make-up and sex. Sarah Huntington was in the library reading books. She was quick to cry or lose her temper although she'd usually disappear before anyone could see either thing happen.
In her own world Sarah could scale a tree and run as fast as the boys but she was clumsy when she walked, tripping over her own shoes, her own feet, attempts at wearing heels driven by her Aunty Charlotte who was desperate to have a daughter to mother, proved a fiasco, clumping in hand-made heels and twisting ankles.
She was reluctant to make eye contact if she wasn't in her comfort zones which was at home with her dad or her aunt and uncle or in her favourite subjects at school with her favourite teachers or the Hilditchs. That's where she was most comfortable – with her friend and his family. Dane was shy (until he stepped on a stage). Quiet, until he got to know you, and the pair complemented each other, giving each other confidence in public. They had their circle of friends who closed around them when they were out or around Dane when he was at school and that was all that mattered.
At school, Sarah had Jane now and she'd always had Petra. Tall for her age too, Petra, like Sarah, spoke several languages, and lived in the library. Another fish out of water, English wasn't her first language and the two took pleasure in chatting for hours in Greek, ancient and modern. Like Sarah, she had one English parent, one Greek but unlike Sarah, she still had both and they lived in the country. She had two brothers, one a year older and another Jane's age and both at Dane's school. If Sarah had time for boys she may have noticed Dmitri Taylor, tall and dark with smoky brown eyes, Jane more than noticed his older brother Nicholas, she was dating him. But not Sarah, the only boys she liked were her boys, Dane, Neville, George, and Boyd. They were her brother's now, well Neville certainly was. He'd become more protective of her over the years, no longer seeing her as an imposition on his life but his ally when his parents got difficult, his means of escape when they fought.
She and Neville were a team; they'd go to the Hilditch's together sometimes and to her father on some term breaks. Edward Huntington liked Sarah's friends and he was a sounding board for his nephew. But he was inept with his daughter, who was now moving headlong towards womanhood and struggling at school despite being bright, more than bright. There was something, not wrong, but different about her. The school had flagged it with him but in his grief and need to hide away from life he'd not really thought about it. She was too close to him, to the way he was and acted for him to see her as different from the rest of the world.
So it was Margaret Hilditch, practical, forthright Margaret, that brought it up, Sarah had hoped that the long discussions her father and her adoptive mother had when he dropped them off or picked them up were of a romantic nature. If her father had to marry again if she had to have a stepmother, then why not Margaret? Jane would really be her sister and Lydia and Lizzie and Dane......... her best friend, would be her brother. That would be good right? She felt the same way about Dane as she did Neville right?
Her feelings for Dane confused her. She didn't like him like the other girls liked their "boyfriends" but she'd support him and do anything for him, protect him, talk for him and him for her. They were brothers? Best friends? Cousins? Their relationship didn't fit any paradigm that Sarah knew, it just was.
Margaret and Edward took her to her first appointment with the psychologist, the diagnosis floored Edward but not Margaret she'd had Dane tested wondering if he was on the spectrum. Dane was there too and Neville, Dane knew what to expect, his diagnosis was borderline, but he sat with Fox holding her hand while they waited in the ante-room at the expensive specialist. It was a quick process, her condition was obvious to those in the know, Aspergers isn't a disease to cure, it's a difference to enjoy and to manage the doctor explained and somehow Sarah finally felt better with herself. She'd known she was different – now she knew why.
She didn't change overnight, the diagnosis wasn't some magic wand that made her like the other girls suddenly. She didn't really change much at all. Yoga helped her manage her anxiety and the school gave her support, extra time for exams, a safe place to go when she felt overwhelmed and slowly but surely her marks skyrocketed and her friends' circle at school increased. Her friendship with Petra blossomed and both she and Dmitri were invited to the Huntington manor in time for Sarah's 16th birthday, along with two other new "girlfriends" Emily and Beatrix. Charlotte, now worried her beautiful, blossoming niece spent too much time with the boys and she wanted a much more "mixed" group for her party, something her son encouraged wholeheartedly.
Sarah didn't mind too much, she'd already spent time with Dane and Neville alone –first all going to the theatre with Margaret and to the Rugby World Cup with Malcolm Hilditch and then a week on a dig with her father in Greece. Neville had watched his friend, now his best friend, and his cousin, now a sister of sorts, flirt (without realising it) and share secrets in Greek and Latin. But he didn't watch them too closely - he had other things on his mind now. At 16 and a half, he was older than them, more worldly in his eyes and Greek girls and university students on digs were good kissers.
So he was a very relaxed man by the time they got to his parent's place, relaxed and looking forward to meeting up with Sarah's friend Emily. Now there was a woman, mmmm and Petra – tall dark and fun and Bea was weird but nice. Yeah, Neville liked having Sarah as a sister, he liked the fringe benefits. What he didn't like though was how HIS friends were starting to notice Fox. She didn't realise it yet but she was blossoming into a beauty – when she wasn't in ripped jeans and oversized shirts. He didn't mind Dane flirting with her, it was innocent and almost brotherly and to be honest he thought his friend and "sister" were pretty oblivious to the way they felt about each other. But Dmitri had smiled at her just a little too long and George had made comments about Sarah in a bikini. They were supposed to be brothers, they weren't supposed to notice that Sarah was a girl, Neville worried what would happen if, heaven forbid, one of the boys took a liking to her. He liked the group the way it was.
The whole group was coming for the weekend; his mother had gone all out, all out for Sarah's birthday, all out for the weekend. Friday night would be movies in the library/movie room, Saturday was the party with a band and Sunday would be horse riding and then a big bonfire and cooking outdoors. Neville was looking forward to it, Sarah was less impressed. She just wanted a quiet celebration with her friends. She didn't feel "sweet" or sixteen. They'd had a similar party weekend for Neville but his birthday was in winter and to be honest in the end she and Dane had spent most of the time playing chequers in the study and avoiding people rather than mixing with strangers. But the Huntington's, Neville's family at least, liked to splash out big, invite a lot of people – any excuse for a party.
However for Sarah, the little cake with her dad, Dane, Neville and some of her father's colleagues was birthday party enough, as was the cake at Dane's, but she managed to survive movie night. It was just their core group and had proven a fun night with the boys showing off a little too much in front of the girls.
Saturday morning was also pretty relaxed just hanging around the house and "vegging out" – until aunt Charlotte stepped in and dragged the girls off for mani-pedis, make-overs and hair styling to celebrate Sarah's birthday and prepare for the party. Hell Sarah didn't even know what a mani-pedi was until she got there. She'd never done those sorts of things, though her friends seemed to be old hands. She'd have rather gone hiking with the boys. But she supposed it was fun, though it wasn't as good as shopping with Margaret and Jane or fishing with the boys. Aunt Charlotte insisted on buying her heels and a dress she didn't think she'd ever wear again, having her eyebrows plucked and making sure her wild hair was under complete control. By the time she came home Sarah hardly recognised herself. In fact, she could have slipped past her friends and she was sure they would have just thought her any other girl.
But she would have been mistaken. With her big green cat's eyes, high cheekbones, olive skin and pouty lips, Sarah Huntington was something special. But the best thing about it was she didn't realise, didn't have a clue just how beautiful she was. Though even if she had, she wasn't one to put on airs and graces and big note herself. No Fox just wanted a quiet life and at the moment she just wanted this ordeal over, to be honest.
But then it was party time, time for her big entrance and the nerves fluttered in her stomach like concords.
The worst thing about coming down the stairs on your own when you're the reluctant guest of honour at a party you'd rather avoid is the abject fear that you would fall arse over tit and make a complete fool of yourself and end up in emergency.
Thankfully for Sarah, she had a little help.
The knock on her door caught her by surprise.
The person on the other side even more so.
"Oh god dad," she said flying into her father's arms.
"I thought you couldn't make it?" she said putting her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek enthusiastically, excitedly.
"And miss my little girl's big night?"
"Never – plus someone needed to save you from Aunty Charlotte," Edward laughed as his daughter let go of him and stepped back.
"Too late!" she said rolling her eyes and doing a dramatic twirl.
"Oh Sarah!" tears prickled Edward Huntington's tired eyes.
She was beautiful.
Truly beautiful. She looked so much like her mother and so grown up. She was growing up too fast.
Her green eyes shone, the majority of her hair was swept up with tendrils snaking down her and framing her face. Her dress was emerald velvet; a fitted bodice with soft chiffon draped across her décolletage, the dress was tight to her hips before falling in a river of chiffon. She wore a simple emerald drop – a present from Charlotte and her husband and the emerald bracelet that had been her mother's. She was a beautiful young woman. He wondered where the time had gone, where his little girl had gone, his tomboy – until she hiked up her dress and there were her favourite Docs.
He laughed.
"I don't think those are Aunty Charlotte approved."
"I'm not wearing the torture devices," she answered shaking her head and motioning towards the matching green shoes. Edward shook his head, he was with her on this one but he could imagine that Charlotte had gone to a lot of trouble to find the perfect shoes; his sister-in-law had been good to the girl. Edward couldn't disappoint her. He sighed and five minutes later his daughter was at least five inches taller and towering over her father (and trying not to clunk in heels) with a promise that she could come back for the docs later in the evening.
She swept down the wide staircase and could hear the music coming from the other room. She looked longingly out the window and wondered if she could shuck her heels and climb her favourite tree in this dress– probably not. She just hoped the boys wouldn't tease her too much.
The lobby was filled with people and not just people but her friends.
They were all milling around talking and waiting, waiting for her. She suddenly felt self-conscious and that tree outside was looking more and more enticing may be she could still make a run for it? And then Neville looked up and smiled, wolf whistled her.
"Fuck," said George quietly catching a glimpse of the girl he had, up until recently thought as one of the boys. But she wasn't very boyish tonight. She was extraordinarily gorgeous - who knew?
His appraising look, however, was lost on the woman of the hour. Sarah only had eyes for one person; he'd been talking to Petra quietly in the corner. She didn't blame him, she was beautiful and much more confident than she was, and she felt disappointed. She shouldn't, they were friends, best friends, but friends and nothing more, they couldn't be more, what they had was more than enough. Then Petra tapped his shoulder and he turned. His eyes bugged and sparkled. She looked away shyly, oh god she was being a girl. This was Dane, her Will. He looked amazing, they all did, Aunt Charlotte had made all the boys wear black-tie, like some ancient coming out ritual. It was dumb but she thought it would be "a bit of fun". Sarah had longed for jeans and a t-shirt – until she saw the others. They all looked amazing, all the girls were gorgeous, all the boys – Dmitri and those black/brown eyes, George with his Celtic cheekbones and auburn hair, handsome Boyd all chiseled and even cousin Neville. But she only really had eyes for the cherub cheeks, mildly tamed blonde curls and big blue eyes of one person. He saw her looking and looked down at his feet, shyly – the boy who'd found her pads, put her bra on his head to play superhero, who'd been friend and confidant for three years was treating her like he treated real girls - shyly. And it felt weird, really just - weird.
She reached the bottom of the stairs on her dad's arm and waited for him to come across to her. But he didn't, George got to her first and offered his arm. She tried not to look disappointed. Dane was hanging back.
Of course, they were friends.
She danced with George, with Dmitri, Boyd and even Neville and still, Dane hung back. He was there though when she opened her presents and cut her cake. He watched as she put the emerald earrings from the Hilditch's in her ears – small but perfect. She kissed his cheek quickly, he blushed, so did she. He was trying not to think of Fox as a girl. But she was beautiful, she always was but tonight she gorgeous, he wanted to kiss her. Sure he'd felt that way a bit this summer, he hadn't known what had come over him. Hormones he supposed. But she was too beautiful for him now and one of his more experienced friends would sweep her off her feet.
George seemed keen, he kept coming back to dance and so did Dmitri. – Of course, his sister liked Dmitri's brother, Fox would like Dmitri. He was charming her, he had her laughing. Dane couldn't do that, instead, he danced distractedly with Bea a few times and hung out with Edward, talking about the dig. He contemplated going to sit in their tree. Edward smiled, trying to talk to Dane was nigh on impossible. He wasn't listening, the boy had it bad, his eyes followed Sarah everywhere.
"You should go dance with her," Edward said quietly.
"The other boys........" he started.
"The other boys aren't the ones she writes to, confides in, aren't the ones that held her hand at the doctors, aren't the ones she patched up when they tripped over at the dig despite how much she hates blood. Go dance with her son!"
"But....."
Edward pushed him onto the dance floor of the fairy-lit main ballroom in the Huntington's ancestral house, the house where he'd first danced with a girl, the house where he'd proposed to Sophia, his half Italian, half Greek academic partner – Sarah's mother. Edward wondered, half hoped that one day - way down the track Sarah and Dane might look back on this room with similar memories.
But Dane didn't get far. Stopping in his tracks as Dmitri and George seemed to argue over who would have the next dance. And then George turned and kissed Sarah on the lips possessively.
Wack! Sarah slapped him hard.
A fight looked ready to erupt and then Neville came from nowhere, hauling both boys out with Fox following, leaving Charlotte to apologise to her guests and get the party back on track. "Boys," she kept saying over and over, smiling like a demented Cheshire cat. Wondering why she'd bothered and what damage that sort of thing would have on her social standing.
Dane left then, following with Boyd and the other girls. All wondering what the hell was going on.
Out in the lobby, Neville still had his two friends by the collars.
"That's it guys – it's Charlie, Fox – Sarah – my cousin and one of the boys not a piece of meat– she's off limits to my mates, I'm not having my friends fighting because one of us is a girl!" Neville said angrily looking from George to Dmitri who nodded and apologised to Neville and Sarah.
"That was my first kiss," Sarah said growling, poking George in the chest.
"And it wasn't supposed to happen like that; it was supposed to be special! It wasn't supposed to be you!"
She angrily stalked away from her cousin and his friend's making a beeline for Dane.
"You......you were supposed to kiss me tonight!" she exclaimed fighting back angry tears.
She grabbed the wide-eyed Dane by the lapels of his suit, slammed him against the wall in the hall and kissed him – hard.
And then she released him – her Will – gasping like a landed fish.
Embarrassed she fled the party, Cinderella leaving the ball and shedding her shoes as she went. Though there was no running, she did it at a measured pace, determinedly not looking panicked on the outside but dying inside. She'd been angry with George, she'd been angry with Dmitri, she'd been angry at Neville and even a little at Dane for not doing anything, for not wanting to do anything. Sure they were friends but still, she had never imagined her first kiss being with anyone else. And now she'd made a fool of herself and he'd never talk to her again.
She hooked up her dress and climbed her favourite tree, sitting there in the dark – watching the party from the safety of the night.
That's where he found her 10 minutes later. He knew it would be. She was sitting along the branch, back to the tree. Staring into space, into the house. He was quiet. She didn't acknowledge him but she must have known he was there. Following a well-worn path up the tree, he looked up at her inquisitively, she looked down at him glumly.
"I'm sorry Will," she sighed. "George got on my nerves and, aaargh." She shook her head and growled.
He smiled.
"Shift over will you Fox," he said quietly. She swung her legs over the tree and moved along allowing Dane to climb up and move in next to her.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
She nodded almost in perceptively and he gingerly put his arm around her, hugging her close. They hugged a lot, she didn't like hugs much but Hilditch Hugs were good – the whole clan did it and she had got used to it, more than that, she enjoyed it.
"Can we try that again," he whispered in her ear.
She turned to him and looked puzzled. Nervously, tentatively he touched a clammy nervous finger to her cheek. She shivered and her eyes turned brilliant emerald like the stones in her ears.
"What about what Neville said?" she asked.
"I want a proper first kiss and I want it with you too, I tried in Greece but I was too nervous," his voice cracking, still little more than a whisper. If she said anything else he'd lose his nerve. Her lips had been soft but up against a pillar in her uncle's house didn't seem the right place. Here, here was nice. Here was theirs. He'd wanted to kiss her all summer but had been frightened she would punch him in the arm or slap his face but she'd been feeling the same way - girls were weird and unfathomable, even his Fox.
She nodded, smiled. He answered the smile and pulled her closer.
And then, very gently, their lips touched.
Her hands went to his curls and then her lips parted.
"Oh my god," he thought, smiling against her.
And there up in a tree outside the Huntington Manor Sarah Huntington French kissed her best friend Dane Hilditch on her 16th birthday.
Neville Huntington looked out the window and smiled.
All was right with the world again.