Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3)

by Lily Morton

  “Okay,” he says suddenly making me start. “The best thing is for you to catch the tube to London Bridge and then onto the Elephant and Castle. It’s only a few minute’s walk to the university from there.”

  “Isn’t there a bus or something?” I can hear my voice wavering.

  He flicks a glance at me. “I’m not sure but I think it’ll take a couple of buses and it’ll take a lot longer.”

  “Well you’re a rich rock star. I bet you don’t catch many buses.”

  “Not many I have to admit but I used to bus all over London years ago. Why, do you want me to book a car for you?”

  “Good grief no. Why would you do that?”

  He looks confused. “To make things easier for you of course.”

  I’m touched. “You would do that?”

  “Of course.” He smirks. “I’d do anything for family Alys.”

  I laugh and shove him playfully. “Well this cousin needs to make her own way but I’d really prefer the bus.”

  He looks at me searchingly. “Why?”

  I shuffle my feet feeling a bit embarrassed. “I like the bus.”

  “Alys no one in their right mind likes public transport. Try another one.” He stares raising one eyebrow and we enter into a stare fest until he makes a sudden move and I screech as he throws me cavalierly over his shoulder with my head hanging alarmingly near to his firm backside. He strides towards the water which is lapping peacefully a few feet away.

  “What are you doing?” I shriek and then gasp as one big hand reaches up and swats my backside and he says something that I can’t catch. Levering myself up using his wide shoulders I lean nearer to his head. “What did you say?”

  “You had your chance Alys.”

  “What chance? What are you doing?”

  “I’m throwing you in the river.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Language. You know Father Reilly disapproves.”

  I snort out a laugh making my head bang into his back. “You’re a fucking nutter.”

  “Oh insults now. Alys you’re new to this family so I think I’ll give you one chance. In our family if I question you over something that is bothering you, you are to tell me immediately what it is so that I can head forth and remove the problem for you. Do you comprehend?”

  I’m laughing too hard to answer and he wriggles my ass playfully. His voice is full of laughter. “Okay are you ready to talk my tiny Irish prisoner?”

  “Okay, okay. Bram put me down before I’m sick.” He rights me alarmingly quickly and I slap his arm. “Twat!”

  He laughs and then taps his watch. “Tick tock, Alys. Talk now or river in a second.”

  I take a couple of steps back. “I just like being above the ground that’s all. I like the fresh air and I’ll be able to see more of London.” It’s a big fudge but I feel almost embarrassed to admit to being claustrophobic. He’s taken the deafness in his stride and I know that I can’t help the claustrophobia, but I can’t help but feel embarrassed about it. Somehow in the back of my mind it’s become this thing that I could control if I just put my mind to it. The fact that I can’t overcome it is seriously humiliating when I’ve taken everything else that life has thrown at me and pushed through it. I’ve therefore adapted to it and console myself that the little things like walking up the stairs rather than taking the lift are for fitness so I shouldn’t be bothered by it.

  Bram looks at me sceptically but in the end he obviously recognises that I’m not giving in. “Well this is the quickest way. How about you try it because you’re going to seriously add to your journey in rush hour otherwise?”

  I take a deep breath. I can do this I tell myself. I’ll focus on him and he’ll never know.

  Ten minutes later I take a deep breath and try to unobtrusively blow it out. At first it hadn’t been too bad. The worst bit was going down the steps and into the ground. Once I was down there the space was large and well-lit, and as long as I kept my mind resolutely away from the earth above us I was relatively okay. Bram helped by staying close and holding my hand firmly in one of his large ones, his long fingers curved protectively over mine. The tingles took my mind off it too.

  We’d got on the tube and at first that too had been okay as it was fairly empty, but then as the stations passed by more and more people got on until now we’re packed in like sardines and I can feel the press of people against me. I feel a trickle of sweat work down my back and everything behind my eyes seems to go dark. I can’t see anything apart from people and the knowledge that I can’t get out even if I want to makes it worse and I feel the panic start to wing its way in. I know that I’m a few steps away from a bad panic attack.

  Bram has been standing hovering over me protectively since we got up to let a young mum and child have our seats, and now he stoops over me looking me in the eyes steadily. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes dark with concern. “You’re ice cold babe.”

  I nod jerkily unable to open my mouth for fear that I’ll start screaming and I won’t stop. I become aware that he’s calling my name. “Alys, Alys love look at me.” His voice is deep and sure, the Irish more pronounced than ever and something in it calls me back. I look into his green gold eyes and feel a welcome sense of calm start to seep into me. “That’s right babe. Breathe in and out slowly. Don’t look round. Concentrate on me and getting those breaths in and out.”

  He keeps up a stream of nonsensical, low voiced chatter that doesn’t require an answer until I feel a bit of calm come back and he sags in relief. “That’s better sweetheart. You held your breath for too long and you went a really funny colour.” He straightens slightly and looks at me intently. “Fresh air and seeing the sights my arse. I knew that wasn’t the reason. Is there something that you’re not telling me?”

  “I might be a tiny bit claustrophobic.”

  “There’s no might be about it. How tiny?”

  I sigh. “Quite a lot. I panic quite badly even in a lift.”

  “Shit Alys sorry. Is that why you went down the stairs from the flat this morning rather than use the lift?” I nod. I’d made an excuse of needing the exercise and he’d complied immediately but while he looked as fresh as a daisy when he’d emerged I’d come out looking like the victim of an apocalypse. He does look genuinely sorry and I smile affectionately at him but then he jerks. “Wait, you came up in the lift?”

  I smile. “I closed my eyes and made my lists.”

  “Lists?”

  “I make lists and go through them to keep calm.”

  He smiles affectionately at me. “Oh Alys my anally retentive relation what are we going to do with you?”

  “Find me a bus route,” I answer hopefully but he shakes his head and sighs still holding onto my hand and almost unconsciously rubbing it. The panic is slowly edging away as I focus on him. I’ve found in the past that if I focus hard I can usually stave off a panic attack.

  “I’m sure I can do better than that.” He looks at me reproachfully. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I stare at him for a second. “It’s embarrassing.”

  He looks angry now. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s a condition which millions of people have and it’s very powerful. It’s not just a fancy. I’ve seen panic attacks and they’re not pretty.”

  “You sound like you know personally?”

  He shrugs. “Not me. Seth’s claustrophobic.”

  “Really? But he’s such a big man.”

  He shoots me a sidelong look. “What? It’s not so embarrassing now when it’s a 6’ 5” man eh?”

  I shrug. “I think some people think it’s put on. I’ve been accused of doing it for attention before so I keep quiet on the whole. I didn’t want you to take the piss out of me if I had a panic attack.”

  He looks angry. “Why the fuck would you think that and who the fuck in hell took the piss out of you for that?”

  “Why? Are you going to beat him up?”

  He snorts. “Maybe,” and then he bright
ens. “Was it Father Reilly because I’m definitely okay with that?”

  I smack his arm and he laughs before glancing over the heads of people which is easy for him with his height. “We’re two stops away love. Are you okay to keep going or do you want to get off at the next stop?”

  “You’re not going to encourage me to keep going?”

  He looks at me in utter incomprehension. “Fuck no, why?”

  “That’s what most people do.”

  He gives me a pitying look. “Alys surely you’re aware by now that I’m not most people. Why the fuck would you keep going when it’s terrifying you? Life’s too short for that. I’d rather walk in the fresh air than have you faint. Besides you’ve done fucking well to get this far.” He hesitates. “Does the deafness make it worse?”

  I consider that. “A bit I suppose. It doesn’t help that I just get this roar of noise and press of bodies around me and I can’t distinguish individual sounds enough so it becomes really oppressive.”

  “That’s really crap babe I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t help it Bram.” I’m touched by his concern.

  However, in his agitation he takes his beanie off to run his hand through his hair and once his distinctive face and hair are revealed I suddenly feel like the cynosure of everyone’s eyes. A few people had eyed him when we’d walked through the station and onto the train but somehow he seemed to merge with his surroundings like a very tall chameleon. He’d kept his head lowered but not enough to invite attention and he’d walked smoothly as if he didn’t expect any attention and therefore didn’t get any. However, now I can count with a quick glance at least four people filming us on their phones and I see the moment that he realises it too. “Fuck!” he mutters. “Sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to attract attention. I want to make sure that you’re okay. That’s my focus at the moment.”

  I’m incredibly touched by this but just as I open my mouth to thank him a man turns round. He’s middle aged with a massive belly over which is straining an old Guns n Roses t-shirt. “Fuck are you Bram O’Connell?” he asks in a very loud voice.

  Bram gazes around desperately and at least ten more phones train on us. Finally he sighs lightly and imperceptively. “Yeah I am mate,” he says accepting the enthusiastic handshake from the stranger, who in his enthusiasm knocks into me. At once Bram snatches me into his side protectively. “Careful,” he says in a low voice. “Alys is a bit claustrophobic. Give her a bit of space.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” The man hastily moves back so that his belly no longer nudges me. “You alright love? You’re a very funny colour.” I open my mouth to answer but before I can get a word out he turns back to Bram who smirks at me. This smirk is wiped right off his face with the man’s next words. “Love the new album mate. Loads better than the last one which if you ask me was a total sack of shit.” I snort out a laugh which I hastily cover as a cough, but I needn’t have bothered because the man’s focus is now on Bram who listens stoically as for the next two stops the man tears apart the Beggar’s Choice back catalogue, critics Bram’s women, particularly the famous supermodel who apparently had an arse like a pancake, and then moves on to offering helpful ideas for the next album.

  I’m shaking with laughter by now but not too much that I can’t egg the man on. “Really Phil,” I murmur. “That’s very interesting. What direction do you think their music should go next?” Bram glares at me making a face like a gargoyle, but manages to wipe it clean when Phil turns back to him.

  His ideas last us through getting off the train, manoeuvring through the station and then up and out into the fresh air at which point Phil stops suddenly, looking confused.

  “Fuck this isn’t my stop,” he mutters. Bram tries not to laugh and looks at him enquiringly. “Can I have an autograph mate?”

  “Of course.” Bram looks around enquiringly as if a pen is somehow going to materialize out of thin air and I sigh and dig one out of my bag. He hesitates with his pen over the paper. “Shall I make it out to Phil?”

  The man shakes his head. “Bloody hell no mate, make it out to Julie. That’s my wife,” he offers to me. “She’s a huge fan. I’m more of an Iron Maiden man myself.” He snatches the paper and within seconds he’s gone and I break into peals of laughter.

  Bram slumps against the wall running his hand down his face. “Fuck!” he mutters.

  “Was that one of your super fans?” I enquire, trying to stop laughing and he makes a face.

  “Shut up. I’ve had worse.” He looks at me intently. “You okay there?”

  I consider it, feeling the air cool on my face. “Yeah I’m fine now.”

  “You did brilliantly.”

  I seesaw my hands. “I might have had a panic attack if it wasn’t for Phil. Do you think he’s available for day trips?”

  He laughs. “I don’t think my ego would take it.”

  “Your ego’s fine.” I mean it. He’d impressed me today accepting the man’s comments with extreme good grace.

  “Well I still think that you did well.”

  “Maybe not enough to want to do it again though.”

  He looks at me intently. “No I don’t think so babe. I don’t like the idea of you suffering through that on your own. Maybe I could …”

  “What?”

  “If I rearrange the band’s practices I could travel back and forwards with you.”

  “You would travel to university every day with me so that I’m not on my own with claustrophobia?”

  He looks at me in consternation and then says simply, “Of course I would.”

  “Oh Bram.” I’m unbearably touched. “There’s no need for that. I’m a big girl. I’ve been on my own for a long while now. I’ll be fine.”

  He looks at me searchingly. “How long have you been on your own?”

  “Since I was thirteen.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, my mum died then.”

  “But you had a stepfather didn’t you? I dimly remember Ma going on about it.”

  “Yes, Richard, but he couldn’t cope with a deaf child so he put me into fostering.”

  “He did what?” His voice is deadly.

  “It doesn’t matter Bram.”

  “Yes it fucking does. Your stepfather put you into care. That’s fucking unbelievable. Wasn’t there anyone else who could have had you?”

  “No, mum was my only family. It wasn’t so bad.”

  He hesitates. “Were they good to you?”

  “On the whole yes babe.”

  “On the whole?”

  “Some good, some bad, but nothing unendurable.”

  “I somehow think that your idea of unendurable might not match other peoples.”

  I smile. “Maybe you’re right but I’m a big girl and I’ve been looking after myself for a long time now. I’ll be fine.”

  “Does your …?” He stops.

  “What?”

  “Does your claustrophobia come from your time in care?”

  I shrug, not wanting to go into the story of being locked in a cupboard for being cheeky by one particular gem of a foster carer. “I don’t remember. I’ve been claustrophobic for years.”

  He doesn’t look convinced and furthermore he looks as if he might be about to launch himself over to Ireland to find Richard and all the others and fight my battles and I’m so touched. “It’s done now Bram and I came out fine. I’m used to being on my own.”

  He looks at me for a long time, examining my face as if it holds secrets. “Well you’re not on your own now alright. I’m here.” I stare at him and as if he suddenly realises that he’s been serious for too long the familiar lighthearted grin slides over his face. “That’s what family’s for Cousin Alys.”

  Chapter Three

  Alys

  I’m up the next morning bright and early and ready for the induction day at university where I can check my courses, get my union card and meet my tutors. I’m nervous but less than I w
ould have been if Bram and I hadn’t spent yesterday afternoon pottering around the campus, checking out the buildings and where everything was.

  The campus proved to be huge and as too much chaos when I was a kid has made me chary of racing into things without thinking first, I was prepared to spend all day there if needed. What I wasn’t prepared for was to find that Bram had stuck to me like glue. When I’d protested that he was supposed to be going to band practice he’d instantly demurred, stating that he wanted to see me settled, and I’d have been more worried about imposing on him if he hadn’t shown such an eager, interested expression.

  He’d kept his beanie tucked down low on his forehead and with his casual clothes and half laced combat boots he’d looked like just another student rather than a twenty six year old multimillionaire rock star. There had been a few people milling about, mostly foreign students who came the week before everyone else, and apart from a few keen glances at him which had probably been more to do with his male beauty and loose limbed stride than recognition, we’d gone undisturbed. He’d seemed relieved by that and had dogged my steps all over the campus like a very determined puppy, chattering away happily about anything that came into his head.

  I’d been amazed by how easy I felt with him. After all, he’s a complete stranger, a major player and a rock star, but he’d made me laugh a lot and he’s surprisingly astute and wise for someone that affects such a carefree, careless attitude.

  Dismissing the previous morning I roll out of bed and head into the shower which is a true thing of beauty and I think when I have to leave it I’m going to cry. Multiple jets pummel me from all angles and I swear I’m cleaner than I’ve ever been in my life when I emerge.

  I blow dry my hair and leave it loose and wavy. After adding some light make up I pull on my black ankle length skinny jeans and ballet pumps, pairing them with a white shirt which I leave loose and over which I add a shorter black jumper. I grab my black jacket and pink scarf and snatch up my old backpack. It’s a khaki canvas bag that I’ve had since I did my GCSE’s but I’ve never seen the point in replacing things just because they’re old. Thinking about never throwing away old things I’d have actually made a good partner for a sugar daddy if I was so inclined.