From Love to Loathing: It’s Just a Step Away

FROM LOVE TO HATE IS BUT A STEP

I remember hating Lucy Croft from the very first year of school, simply for her innate thinness. That skinny minx was my closest friend. It was Jack Barnes, the class clown and a notorious slacker, who gave us our nicknames back in Year 9. He took to calling Lucy Lady Marlborough. Each time she entered the classroom, Jack would clasp his hands as though warming them in a muff and happily sing out:
Five minutes, five minutes! Is it long or is it short?
Lucy’s face would break into a smug little grin. With slow, deliberate steps, she would pace between the desks, her bony hips swaying with confidence.

As for me, Id try to sneak into the classroom just after the bell rang, hunched and quiet, but that wasnt always possible. When I was caught, that oaf Jack would boom,
Goooood morning, Miss Georgina Sloane!
Then he’d burst into another out-of-place tune,
Roll on, silver Thames goes rolling on!

My cheeks burned scarlet. Tears would stream down my face and soak the chest that was far from maidenly. Lucy would always leap to my defencethrowing textbooks at Jack, calling him an idiot, all while laughing that infectious, ringing laugh that only the truly beautiful seem to possess. We all knew Jack and Lucy fancied each other. No one could really understand why the skinny one Lucy Croft was best friends with the cow Lucy Sloane. Thats me.

For a long time, I didnt understand why Lucy was friends with me at all. She always got cross and would end up shouting while explaining,
Oh Sloane, you absolute donkey! You get top marks in everything yet you cant grasp it: people dont become friends because of their figures or pretty eyes. Youre a good egg, Lucy. Look aroundthere are plenty of famous people who are a bit on the large side, and everyone adores them!

But I didnt care about famous people. I didnt care about anything, really, except for Jack Barnes. Jack, though, only cared about Lucy Croft. Id see the way he looked at her. Me, he always turned away from, as though I were some beggar in the street, not worth his loose change or even a glance. Thats how hed turn from me. Hed either ridicule me, or simply pretend I didnt exist.

Before Christmas, I persuaded my parents to transfer me to a different school. Mum wrote the transfer notice and collected my forms from the office. I was due for a fresh start after the holidays. The old lifeonly Lucy remained from that.

My friend, though, was furious. She called me a traitor, stormed off, and slammed the door behind her. But she mustve changed her mind, because moments later, she started ringing our doorbell incessantly.

Flinging the door open with a triumphant grin, I stopped short. It was Jack Barnes standing thereangry, no hat, dusted in snow, his duffel coat undone:
Whats all this, Sloane? Why are you dashing off to another school mid-year? Its only five months till exams and youre legging it? Im talking to you, Sloane!

I hardly heard his words. Or better, I heard them, but understood none of it. I only knew I wanted to remember this miraculous moment foreverJack Barnes himself on my doorstep, handsome as ever, cheeks fiery from the chill, eyes aglow. His beauty emboldened me, and I answered back, ever so sharply:
Whatyou worried youll lose your favourite easy target for tormenting?

I didnt catch thatwhat? Howm I going to find another like you, Sloane? Theres only one fool like you in all England! he spat through gritted teeth, yanked me out onto the landing, and hugged me.

Noit wasnt a tender embrace. Tenderness has no place in that kind of hug. This was something desperate, as though someone were about to take me away and he refused to give me up. One giant hand pressed my head to his scratchy wool jumper, the other clamped round my back. I was well and truly pinned, but to my surprise, I wasnt frightened. I was contentdreamlike, really. As if in a dream, or a cherished fantasy. But how had he guessed the things I dreamed of? Was it just another game? He couldnt know! Or could he? That thought terrified me and brought me to tearshuge, wracking sobs that seemed to last forever. Gradually they faded and with them came calm. I gulped, then at last realised what was happening.

Barnes was holding me now with gentleness, rocking me as though I were a little girl.
Let it out, Lucy. Cry if you must. My mum always says thatif you need to cry, cry. She also says Im an idiot. That if you like someone, you should tell them honestly. Lucy, well, here I am, saying, Im a grade-A prat. Lucy, I like you. Do you hear?

And Im nervous about it. Youre top of the class, headed for nursing school. And me? If Im lucky, Ill scrape into the motor college with just enough points. What if your parents wont let you see me? Whyd their daughter want a thicko for a boyfriend? Only thing is, Im not thick! I just never cared for all that sines and cosines nonsense. I want to be a mechanic, I love cars and… I love you.

What about Croft? I demanded.

Well, what about her? Croftll be our bridesmaid in a couple of years! I raised my head to look him in the eye, and whispered,
I hate you

Thats good! Theres but a step from love to hate. Youll come round! said my future husband with a grin.

Thirty years have gone by since then.

We never make much fuss about our wedding anniversary. But every year, we celebrate the day our family begantoday for the thirtieth time. At first it was just the two of us, later three with our daughter, and then four, with our son.

This evening, well gather once more with our own. Our lads bringing his girlfriend. My dearest Lucy Croft will be here, too, with her husband and their boy. Only our daughter wont be at the table. Shes been busy with something truly special since yesterdayshe spent the night preparing our present. This morning, she gave us a granddaughter, little Lucy Croft. Shes made the both of us grannies, my friend and I.