To be loved

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To be loved Page 11

by Laura Paddick


  “You should thank me, you know...”

  “What for?” he asked.

  “For saving your ass!” I shouted. “…Figuratively speaking. If I hadn’t seen you two fooling around, you would be history by now! But I guess you don’t really care about that; you have already been expelled from schools so many times!”

  “I’m sure we would have heard Hutchy at some point,” Chris argued.

  I ignored his comment and tried to focus on the graphics.

  “Look at this,” I began, “the new medicinal characteristics have caused an increase in the purchase of tea. The supply curve has an upward movement–”

  “You don’t get it, do you…” Chris interrupted.

  “What? Have I missed something?”

  I examined the graphics a little closer.

  “Do you think it was just a coincidence that Jessica and I were about to have sex in this very room?”

  I leaned backwards onto the backrest of my chair and looked him in the eyes. My heart started beating fast again. The “coincidence”, as he called it, made me nervous.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I brought Jessica up here to see how you would react.”

  “That’s sick!”

  I stared at him with disgust.

  “But it excited you, didn’t it?” he asked.

  I blushed.

  “I knew it would…” he added.

  “I was uncomfortable! Don’t assume you know me, because you don’t!”

  “It excited me to know that you were excited.”

  “Please, stop it! I'm fed up with your sexual harassment!”

  “Don’t exaggerate, Mandy...”

  “Amanda!” I insisted.

  “Sexual harassment is the unwelcome promise of a reward in exchange for sexual favours. That is not what’s going on between us.”

  “Let's call it bullying then!”

  “I’m not bullying, I’m telling you that… I like you.”

  “Well, you’re not very good at it!”

  “What do you expect from a guy who was born and raised in a strip club?”

  I took a moment to fully understand what Chris was telling me.

  “Behind the Curtains?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “You were born and raised there?”

  “Yes.”

  “You said it wasn’t a strip club…”

  “I said that to make you stay a little while,” he admitted. “It is a soft strip club, that part is true.”

  “So, the pole dancers are strippers?”

  “No, not all of them. The ones you saw on Monday were pole dancers. The strippers start their shift later on.”

  “And, what about your mother?” I was curious to know.

  “She was a pole dancer. She wasn’t around for long.”

  I carried on questioning Chris as he didn’t seem to mind answering my interrogations, and I listened to him with open ears.

  “How did she die?”

  “She got sick.”

  “...Who took care of you?”

  “Val did.”

  “Is she your grandmother?”

  “No, she’s the person who hired my mother.”

  “And your dad?”

  “That’s enough,” he sighed. “What about you?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Tell me about your family.”

  “Well, my parents live in London. They’re both journalists. They're always busy. I have an older sister who lives in Plymouth with her husband and her two children.”

  Just mentioning my sister made my voice tremble a little. I wished I could see her more often.

  “Sounds like you are far away from each other,” Chris noticed. “What brought you here?”

  “Olivia,” I said. “I followed her.”

  “So, she’s the one I should thank for bringing you to Merseyside,” he remarked.

  His kindness alarmed me. I wasn’t sure whether I should believe him or not.

  “That’s enough,” I sighed, copying his reaction when I asked about his father. “Let’s get to work. I don’t want to be here all night.”

  He followed my lead. Throughout the evening, Chris even came up with a few good ideas and observations.

  I took notes and told him I would put it together over the weekend. That way, I was sure it would be done in time. Although Chris was being cooperative for this assignment, I still didn’t trust him to get the work done.

  An hour and a half later, we stepped out of the library, having finished preparing our dissertation. Chris offered to come over to my place on Sunday to help me write it all out, but I refused. He then suggested that we grabbed a quick drink in town. I declined again.

  “I see,” he said. “I guess I’ll have to give up on you, Amanda.”

  I didn’t move, not knowing what to do or reply to such a heartrending remark.

  “Come on Chris, don’t be silly,” I finally said. “You can have any girl in our class, probably even any girl on campus! They all fancy you. Olivia likes you too,” I mentioned, thinking of her.

  She would have given anything to have a drink in town with him, and it would have felt like a betrayal if I had accepted his invitation.

  “Not to mention Jessica,” I continued, “she would kill me if she knew I was at a pub with you!”

  Chris didn’t comment. He nodded politely, smiled at me, wished me a good evening, and walked over to his bus stop. I stood alone in front of the library for a short while. It deeply disturbed me that he seemed honest in both his invitation and his withdrawal. Maybe I was being too hard on him. Maybe it would have been fun to have a drink together.

  Chapter 29

  As I stood at my bus stop, waiting for the next one to turn up, I felt the urge to run after Chris. There was something about our last conversation that made me want to spend more time with him. Was it his honesty, his difficult upbringing, or the lust I felt when he was caressing Jessica in the library? I wasn’t jealous, I was just curious. How exciting it must be to be touched in a public place; how liberating it must be to let go of the fear of getting caught; how overwhelming it must be to burn with desire for another person? I had never experienced – or even imagined – a relationship so passionate and erotic. My boyfriends had always been well behaved, sometimes unenthusiastic, and most of the time, predictable. Chris, on the other hand, was spontaneous, wild, and avid for pleasure and adventure.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” I cursed as I left my bus stop to catch up with him.

  I hopped into the first bus that arrived and it took me to the closest stop to Behind the Curtains. I guessed Chris had gone back there; after all, it sounded like it was his home. While sitting and watching the world go by through the bus’ large window, I thought about what I should say to Chris once I came to destination. “Still up for a drink?” was the best line I could come up with. The others were much more derisory:

  1. “I had time to think about what you said and… I am quite thirsty actually, so a drink would be well appreciated!”

  2. “My bus never turned up and I had nowhere to go, so I followed you.”

  3. “Mr Hutchins’ assignment was really difficult, I need a beer…”

  4. “It just so happens that I was in town and I thought I would pop by and say hi!”

  Yes, I was definitely going to stick with “Still up for a drink?” as my initiating sentence.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was plodding towards the strip club. The streets were packed with students who were already making the most of their weekend. And it had only just begun. I turned into the little cobblestone alley and came across Dave, the intimidating big security guard standing in front of the black curtain at the entrance of the club.

  “Hello, is Chris in?”

  “Who are you?” he asked in an unpleasant tone.

  His face was so contorted that he resembled an upset bulldog,
with his narrow lips hanging down, and his eyebrows tensed up and together.

  “Oh sorry, I’m Amanda. I was here on Monday night.”

  He didn’t seem to remember and stared at me with his glaring eyes, as if I was a threatening liar.

  “Chris was with me…” I reminded him. “…You mentioned your newborn daughter, Sophie.”

  Dave’s face changed drastically when I referred to his baby.

  “Ah yes!” he beamed. “Come on in!”

  He opened the black curtain. Pole dancers were sliding up and down poles and men were sitting comfortably while watching them move their bodies in a dim red light. My first five seconds in the room already made me uneasy and self-conscious. I couldn’t believe I had willingly come to this place. What was wrong with me?

  “Amanda!” shouted a small soft-spoken voice.

  It was Val approaching me from the bar.

  “What a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon!” she said.

  “Hello,” I replied.

  It was surprising to see the little old lady hang out at the strip club. It was also startling that she remembered my name.

  “Are you looking for Chris?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “He will be out in a minute, he’s just helping out with the washing up. Our dish washer is off sick.”

  “Oh! Okay,” I said, astonished to hear Chris’ occupation.

  “A Margarita?” Val suggested.

  “I’ll simply wait for him, I think.”

  “Make yourself at home, darling!”

  She returned to the bar, leaving me standing towards the stages and watching the show. The loud sensual music, the energetic figures and the faded lights made it quite entertaining, although I felt like a voyeur watching half-naked women swing around poles. It was sexy, glamour, athletic, and I would have to admit, the girls seemed to enjoy what they were doing.

  In the corner of my eye, I spotted Chris walk out of the kitchen, then discuss with Val at the bar. She pointed in my direction and he noticed me standing near the doorway. I waved awkwardly. He seemed to give a few instructions to the old lady, then came over to see me.

  “Hi,” I said with a hesitant smile, “I… I thought a drink wouldn’t be so bad after all.”

  Chris didn’t say a word. He grabbed my hand and took me on a tour. We nipped behind the bar which was stacked with bottles of alcohol, through a shiny white kitchen where a couple of cooks were preparing some delicious starters – petits fours and amuse-gueules – and I noticed that all of the washing up had been done, probably by Chris. Then, we stepped into a living room where pole dancers and strippers were resting. They were laughing at what seemed to be some comments left on the club's website by customers. Chris showed me their dressing room, a posh boudoir with big mirrors, plenty of light, hundreds of seductive outfits – mostly underwear – hanging in an open closet, and a dozen lockers. Further along, they also had a training room: a big empty space with smooth floors and a couple of poles here and there.

  “I didn’t imagine this place to be so big and professional!” I said to Chris.

  “I’m glad you’re impressed.”

  We came to a little wooden door with a PRIVATE sign nailed at the top of it. He invited me inside.

  “Oh no, I don’t want to intrude, Chris,” I told him, guessing it was the way into his home.

  “You are welcome to,” he assured.

  I hesitated.

  “Come on,” he said, “I’ll get us a drink. It’ll be calmer than in the showroom.”

  I ended up following him, and after walking up a narrow circular staircase, discovered a little apartment above the club. It was cosy and tidy. The style of the decorations and wallpapers was old-fashioned though. I guessed Val had lived there for years and years! Basically, there were flowers everywhere: on the walls, in the picture frames, in vases, on every rug, and even on the kitchen’s tablecloth. Chris didn’t show me the entire place; we stayed in the living come dining room. He prepared two lemonades and we sat on a large green sofa. A clumsy noise came out of my mouth as I sat down and sunk into the cushions… The settee also had to be over ninety years old! Chris grinned at my surprised reaction.

  “Val is emotionally attached to her belongings. She has never wanted to change the sofa,” he explained.

  I sat quietly for a little while and I could feel my cheeks blush, knowing that I was completely alone with Chris in his home. He was only three feet away from me, sitting casually on the other side of the couch, and he didn’t seem to know how to start a conversation. It took me back to when we were sitting on the sand at Crosby Beach. Meanwhile, my mind was picturing Olivia lying on her hospital bed, longing to be where I was at that very moment. I suddenly felt sick. What the hell was I doing? I also pictured Jessica kissing him bestially in the library. If she ever found out I was with him, she would certainly find a way to torture me my whole life. Maybe the best thing for me to do was to leave immediately.

  “I’m happy you decided to come for a drink,” said Chris.

  I obviously couldn’t leave right away. That would have been rude.

  “What made you change your mind?” he asked me.

  “I… I don’t know,” I answered, a little uptight, “but, I can’t stay for long.”

  “Why? Do you have something planned?”

  “No… Yes… No… I’m just tired.”

  Chris could see that I was unsure of myself.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Jess,” he said.

  “Or Olivia,” I added.

  “Very well.”

  “I'm serious, Chris. She's going through hard times. Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  I couldn’t believe I was daring to trust him with this secret. He hadn’t kept any before!

  As I desperately tried to find a subject to talk about – other than the assignment we had worked on together – I caught sight of a little picture frame with a woman and a baby in it.

  “Is that you and your mother?” I asked.

  “Yes. I must have been two. The picture was taken at Crosby Beach. It wasn’t long before she died.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking… What did she die of?”

  “My dad.”

  “What? She died because of your father?”

  I was unsure of what he was trying to tell me.

  “Yes. He wasn’t a nice man.”

  “But, she got sick, didn’t she? You said that–”

  “Her injuries made her sick,” Chris clarified.

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yeah… well…” he mumbled, “one day… I will...”

  “Sorry?”

  “Nothing,” he answered bluntly, putting an end to that conversation.

  An oppressive silence settled again and we both started to get fidgety on the sofa to make up for the lack of speech. He tapped his glass with his fingers, making some kind of beat, and I changed the way I sat every five seconds. We both drank our lemonades, which thankfully filled in the time.

  “I’d better be going,” I said, after having nervously gulped my whole drink.

  I put my glass on a round coffee table next to the settee and lifted myself off the sinking cushions with my two hands. There was a sudden knock on the door and I instantly fell back onto the couch.

  “Is… Is that… Jessica?” I panicked.

  “It… it shouldn’t be…” Chris replied. “I have never...”

  The person behind the door knocked again. We stayed silent. The floor creaked and the knob turned slowly. My heart was racing, already imagining how I could explain myself to Chris’ girlfriend. The intruder slowly stepped inside and, at first, we saw a tray full of food. Then, Val popped her head round the door and asked if we wanted something to eat. I sighed with relief. Chris got up immediately and took the tray away from the old lady.

  “You shouldn’t be carrying that,” he told her gently. �
��What did I tell you about that staircase!”

  “Don’t worry love, no harm done!” she said. “I thought you two would be hungry. Want some apéritifs, Mandy?”

  Did I hear correctly? Did she call me Mandy?

  “I… I ought to be going…” I repeated. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “Don’t be silly! Come and have a bite!” she ordered in a welcoming kind of way.

  Chris raised his eyebrows and smiled at me as if to say “if you don’t, she will insist even more!” I joined them around the kitchen table and nibbled some of the warm petits fours, the small appetizers she was offering.

  “Is she staying for dinner?” Val asked Chris.

  She seemed to assume that he knew what I was doing, as if I was his girlfriend or something. I soon took control of the situation.

  “No, sorry, I have other plans tonight.”

  “Another time then, darling,” she replied. “I’ll leave you two to get on with your appetizers. Be sure to say goodbye before leaving, Mandy. I’ll be at the bar with Josh.”

  “Will do,” I told her, touched by her kind attention.

  She took tiny steps to the door and Chris raced after her.

  “I’ll help you down those stairs…”

  While he was busy with Val, I took another look around the room. It seemed so peaceful despite the racket that was going on downstairs. A little corridor led to multiple rooms – probably the bathroom and bedrooms – and I really wanted to have a sneak peek. However, another screech of the floor near the front door stopped me from going any further. I returned to the kitchen table and ate a couple more crispy cheese delicacies.

  I felt a bit of anger suddenly crawl into my veins. I started to wonder if Chris hadn’t been leading me astray ever since he’d arrived at university. When he reappeared in the room, he closed the door behind him and noticed a blank stare on my face.

  “I’m struggling to figure you out,” I said in a shaken voice, urgently needing to get things off my chest.

  “There’s nothing to figure out.”

  “Why are you such a dick at Uni, and yet here, you act like the perfect grandson?”

  “I told you, she’s not my grandmother. She's a friend.”

  “Whatever! My point is that you make me feel like shit most of the time, and then, out of the blue, you become this flawless gentleman!”

 

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