I said, “Yeah, of course. Did you just talk to Jack then? Or was it a bit more physical than that . . . ? Was there any progress on the Lululuuuve List?”

Vaisey went double red and nodded. I put my arm round her and squeezed her.

She said, “I think we’re getting good at kissing now. It’s all practice, isn’t it? I mean, at first you don’t know where to put your hands, do you? And you don’t want to knock teeth or anything.”

I said, “Hmmm, that’s a good point. Where should they go, do you think?”

Vaisey was chewing a curl. “How do you mean, Lulles? Where should your teeth go? I—”

“No, Vaisey, I mean HANDS. Where were Jack’s hands when you were snogging?”

“Erm, I think they were, well, on the top of my top bottom.”

“On the top of your top bottom—where’s that?”

Vaisey turned round and put her hands on her bottom. “Here, not on the bottomy sticky-out bit, just as it begins to stick out.”

I must remember the hands position for the future. Maybe I should have a bit on my list about hand positions.

Vaisey said, “What else do you want to know?”

I thought and then said, “Has Jack done, I mean, does he ever, you know, do open mouth and tongue stuff at the same time?”

Vaisey said, “Not so far. Should he, do you think? Did you do that with Charlie?”

I stammered, “No, not with Charlie but . . .”

Uh-oh.

Vaisey looked puzzled. “Then who . . . ?”

And it all came out in a rush. “It was out on the moors last term, and it was, well . . . he kissed me, properly, with tongues and everything.”

Vaisey said, “On the moors? Tongues? Whose tongues?”

I looked down at the ground. She put her arm round me. I had to tell someone.

I said, “The nose-licker’s tongue.”

Vaisey shouted, “Cain?! Cain??!”

I nodded.

She looked at me and shouted, “Cain!”

I said quietly, “Vaisey, that’s not the worst of it. . . . It was so nice, I thought I was melting.”

Vaisey said, “Oh noooooo, Lullah—no—the Rusty Black Crow of Heckmondwhite. Did you get that thing about not knowing which way up you were or where his mouth starts and yours ends and . . .”

I was nodding. “Yes—but I hate Cain. He’s hateful. He laughs at me and humiliates me.”

Vaisey gave me a hug. “His bark’s probably worse than his bite. He says things he doesn’t really mean. Jack says he’s got an artistic temperament.”

“Vaisey, he’s not doing a dance or painting when he says horrible things to me—he just says them. I think he hates me.”

“How can he not love you, Lullah? You’ve got lovely hair and your eyes and everything.”

“What about my legs?”

Vaisey paused for just a bit too long. “Yes, yes, and your legs.”

“Vaisey, do you mind if we don’t talk about this anymore? It’s making me feel sad and strange.”