I kiss him quickly on the cheek, biting down my nerves, and shake my head.
“No, it’s okay,” I reply. “There’s a first time for everything, right? Just be gentle with me…”
“I can’t promise that,” he answers, grinning as he walks away from me. I watch him go, chewing my lip, listening to the cheers and cries around me. They’re all here, of course, fringing the village green – Connie and George, Dan and Sophie, the Betties, Trevor, Miranda, Archie and the girls, as well as familiar faces from the homes on the hillside. Everyone has come out to see this.
I glance up at a perfect blue sky, wishing for a sudden downpour to come along and end this. It is the last Sunday in November, but the weather is stubbornly refusing to cooperate.
I take a deep breath, and steady myself. I grip the bat firmly in my hands, hearing Connie’s loud whoop-whooping noise as Jake makes it to the big wooden barrel. He reaches in, pulls something out.
“Knock him for six!” yells George, as Jake takes a run-up. Even from this distance I can see the smile on his face as he bowls.
I see it hurtling towards me, have no idea what I’m doing, but take a mighty swing, whacking it as hard as I can. I am amazed when the bat actually connects.
I hear a dull thud, see it disintegrate, and feel cold, wet blobs spray all over me. They hit my face, land in my hair, splatter all over my jumper. I look down, see that I am now multi-coloured, and burst out laughing.
Within seconds, I hear the cry, as everyone stands up on the patio, arms waving in the air as they all yell: “Jelly Bomb!”
*
