by Lily Morton
I smile at her. “Things are fine babe. We’re definitely friends which still surprises me, but I’m not looking for anything else. There’s no future in that. I don’t think I fit with his profile.”
She looks cross. “Why not? Fucking hell Alys you’re beautiful, I mean supermodel beautiful. You’re clever and loyal and funny. Why the hell wouldn’t you fit with his profile and what the hell is a profile anyway? It sounds like something that you put on Face Book.”
“Well he’s a rock star. He’ll probably end up with a supermodel or a famous actress and have scores of beautiful children.”
She looks doubtful but doesn’t have time to voice her thoughts because the professor arrives and we grab our laptops to start taking notes.
The next night Bram and I are in the kitchen. The coffee maker has packed up and we’re pouring over a manual but have steadily come to the conclusion that neither of us are technical people at all. Finally Bram flails his hands slightly. “But why won’t it work?”
I laugh. “Because it’s broken d’oh!”
“Why do these things always happen to me?”
“Oh, because it’s always about you.”
He gives me a chastising look. “Alys how long will it be before you realise that yes it is always about me?” I laugh but he cocks his head slightly and then to my amazement he raises his hands and makes the sign for doorbell. I stare at him unable to believe that he’s just done that and he flushes slightly.
“How did you … Where did you learn that?”
He rubs his hand over his neck which is Bram’s only tell for when he’s embarrassed. “Was it right?”
I decide to have a little fun with him. “Did you mean to say that you have a very small penis?”
“What?”
“I mean it’s perfectly okay because size isn’t everything, but why did you feel the need to share that in sign language?”
He huffs. “I didn’t. I don’t. Fucking hell I do not have a small penis.” I can’t help but laugh. He laughs and says almost admiringly, “Fucking bitch.” He pauses. “In fact show me how to sign fucking bitch.”
I laugh but show him the sign. He repeats it quickly, his long, musician’s fingers moving smoothly and then he smirks. “That’s brilliant, there’s actually a sign for that. Teach me some sex signs. Fuck, this is just like when we got hold of the dictionary in Year 4 and realised that there were rude words in it.”
“Where exactly did you learn the first bit?”
He flushes. “I got a book and I tried reading it but then I realised that I couldn’t actually learn it from a book, so I got a tutor for me and Matt. We wanted to surprise you and then I decided fuck that. You already love Matt, I need some sugar too.”
I’m so touched by this that I can’t speak. No one has ever done this for me and learning sign language is difficult. Misinterpreting my silence he rushes into speech. “Have I upset you? Fuck I didn’t think of that. It’s just that I was reading up on being partially deaf, and we went to a hearing aid place and they do this thing where they put some silicone in your ear so that you can experience what being deaf is like. Fuck babe I never realised it was so hard. It shit me up being outside on the street with all that noise.” He looks at me admiringly. “You make it look so easy.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. Anyway I got to thinking what would happen if you got a cold. You wouldn’t be able to hear anything if your good ear was infected so I spoke about it to Matty and we agreed to have a tutor and learn it. It’s fucking hard though.”
I have tears in my eyes but I reach out and hug him tight feeling his hard, lean body against mine. At first he tenses in surprise obviously thinking that I’m cross, but then he relaxes suddenly and hugs me tight, resting his face on my head and sighing as I inhale his smell of grapefruit and sandalwood and feel that strange sense of safety that I have with him. Finally he stirs and looks down into my face. “It’s okay then?”
“Bram, it’s the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me.”
He looks a little cross. “Well that’s just fucking not right if this is the nicest thing. You should be taken to brilliant places, stay in amazing hotels and eat at world class restaurants.”
I put my fingers over his mouth laughing and for a second his eyes seem to darken. “Well it is the nicest thing but I’m a bit stuck on why you chose the word doorbell to announce that you can do sign language.”
He claps his hand to his face. “Fuck I forgot, there’s someone at the door.”
I laugh out loud and move to the door. “It’ll be Elen and Daisy.”
He looks slightly nervous. “Yes Daisy, how old is she again?”
“Five.”
“And what can she do?”
I smile at him. “Well she can draw and colour but she can’t drive a manual car yet.”
He huffs. “I don’t mean that. I just don’t know what to do with kids. I’ve got no experience at all.”
“She’s a girl Bram. I’m sure you’ll charm her like you do all females.”
He looks smug. “Ah, so you admit it then babe. I am charming.”
“You’ll never make me say it you know.”
I swing the door open and instantly Daisy throws herself onto me. I’ve met her a few times but she’s a child who makes instant decisions on who she likes or doesn’t. Luckily she’d decided to like me and I love her. She’s a tiny thing with a taste for wearing her little combat boots with everything, which looks slightly eccentric as her favourite colour is pink. She has an enormous amount of soft blonde hair which stands up around her face like a dandelion clock. Tonight she’s dressed in pink leggings, a pink jumper with the ubiquitous boots, and is wrapped up warm in a pink parka and a woolly hat and gloves.
“Goodness you look nice and warm.” I smile and exchange a hug with Elen who is sneaking unobtrusive looks around the flat while looking like her usual insouciant self. This falters slightly when Bram saunters up and she gets her first look at him.
“Hi, Elen is it?” he asks with his usual wide, warm smile and I can almost hear the click as she thaws, shaking the hand that he holds out to her.
“It is and you’re Bram. Are you sure it’s okay for us to be turning up uninvited to this party?”
“You’re not uninvited. I told Alys to ask you.”
“Well you could be eccentric or just get off on pissing your friends off.”
He laughs. “Alys have you been telling her about me?”
“You’re not eccentric Bram but the second part definitely applies to you.”
Daisy jumps forward and grabs hold of Bram’s legs who promptly freezes as if he’s in front of a firing squad. I laugh and he shoots me a filthy look making Elen laugh before he looks down into Daisy’s face. “I like the ring in your lip,” she confides.
He lowers himself to her level smiling warmly. “Oh you do, do you?”
“Yes, daddy has one but mummy says that it’s very girly.”
Elen passes her hand over her face. “Daisy,” she protests. “What did we say about oversharing?”
“Well you did mummy. I heard you say to Aunty Sandra that you were going to grab it and twist it until he cried like a girl.”
Bram laughs out loud as Elen puts her head in her hands. “Remind me not to get on the bad side of you then Elen. Mind you I think you’ll be able to take me given how very girly I am.”
She laughs. “I think I could take you Bram. You’re tall but bendy.”
They smile at each other in total accord which is broken by Daisy demanding to be picked up by him. Bram complies. “See this Alys. This is charm mate and I didn’t have to do much.”
“You never do,” I say.
“Okay ladies are we all ready?” he announces after giving me another smug look.
I pull my black leather jacket and my big amber coloured scarf off the settee where I’d put them earlier. The weather is quite mild for late October so I’ve opted for layering and I’m wearing my
grey cigar trousers with a black silky camisole and a black cardigan and my grey Converse. At his gesture I grab Bram’s battered, old, black, Moto leather jacket as well.
“Will there be sparklers?” Daisy grabs Bram’s attention with the simple act of clasping her hands to his cheeks so hard that he has to look at her.
“Sweetheart I think so but if by chance Charlie hasn’t got them then I solemnly promise you that I’ll go out and buy you some. I’ll buy you a whole box of them.”
“Rockets as well?”
“You got it lovey.”
Elen pulls me to one side as Bram walks out the door. “I’ve changed my mind.”
I’m confused. “What?”
“That conversation we had, ignore the first bit about not fucking him. Alys that man is lush. Fuck him and do it soon.”
“Shut up,” I hiss and laughing we lock the door and follow Bram to the stairs.
“No lift?” Elen asks confused.
“No. Alys and I like the stairs. It’s good exercise.”
He turns to walk off and she looks at me. She knows I’m claustrophobic but Bram doesn’t know this so he’s kept my secret. “Fuck soon,” she mutters. “Do it now. I’ll distract Daisy.”
Bram
A couple of hours later Charlie, Mick and I subside onto the patio furniture on Charlie’s deck and simultaneously let out sighs of happiness as we lift our beers to our lips. “Those fireworks were brilliant Charlie where did you get them from?” I ask idly.
He points at Mick with his bottle. “He picked them up.”
I look at Mick. “Oh my God you didn’t get them from Billy Kit Kat did you?”
Charlie laughs and Mick stretches happily. “What are you bitching about now Bramley?”
“Not bitching exactly, just marvelling that we’ve all still got our internal organs.”
Mick smirks. “You’re such a fucking wife now Bram. Ever since you started that Irish colony in your flat you’re just so chock full of Irish wisdom.”
“I have not started a colony. You make it sound like fucking ‘Logan’s Run’.”
Charlie laughs and then we sigh as if synchronised and raise our bottles. “To naked Jenny Agutter. May God bless her and all who sail in her.”
Mick snorts beer down his nose. “I still remember your mum’s face Charlie when Jenny got her kit off in that film. I thought she’d actually snorted that tea up her nose she moved that quick trying to turn the TV off.”
Charlie smiles nostalgically. “Not quite quick enough.”
I sigh. “No. Thoughts of that nipple kept me happy for quite a while.”
“Until when?” Mick asks.
“Next day when Julie Phillips showed me a real one.”
I don’t know whether it’s the thought of breasts, or more truthfully whether it’s because I’ve known exactly where she is all night, but my attention is immediately diverted to Alys, only to feel my mouth drop open as I spot her on the massive trampoline at the bottom of Charlie’s garden.
She’s jumping around like a maniac with Daisy and has taken off her jacket and scarf leaving her in a cardigan and a thin camisole the ‘v’ of which is now quite low. As if I’m hypnotised I can feel my head going up and down like a nodding dog as the most perfect rack that I’ve ever seen bounces energetically with her movements. Looking round I can see Mick’s head going too and reaching over I give him a shove. “Hey, eyes off!”
Mick looks at me disbelievingly. “Jesus, Bram how the hell do you get anything done? Does she walk around the house like this a lot?”
I shoot a sidelong glance at Charlie that Mick misses because the pervert is still looking at Alys’ tits and then I say seriously, “No, a lot of the time she just wears panties.”
He swallows hard. “What? No bra?”
“Nah, she just cups her hands over them.” I make the gesture to reinforce this statement and he gulps.
“Fucking hell!”
“Yeah and sometimes she jumps up and down a bit while she’s holding them.”
Mick’s voice gets extra high. “Really?” Charlie starts laughing loudly and he slumps. “Bastard!”
Charlie and I both break into loud guffaws, holding our sides. Charlie wipes tears away. “Mick you’re so fucking gullible.”
He sneers. “Whatever.” Then he glares at me. “Thanks for spoiling it.” After a few seconds of silence he stirs meditatively. “Actually I don’t think it’s physically possible for her to get her hands all the way round those breasts.”
I groan. “Oh God, shut up!”
“No really I’m constantly amazed that she doesn’t just topple over. She must have a really low centre of gravity.”
“Stop thinking about Alys’ low centre,” I say sternly and he smirks.
“Bet I don’t think about it half as much as you Bramley.”
I squirm slightly under Charlie’s alert gaze. “Shut up!”
Charlie smirks. “You got a little crush going there Irish boy?”
I raise my eyes to heaven. “Lord please help me.” At that moment Mrs M, Charlie’s housekeeper comes over. Well, when I say comes over I actually mean weaves over as she’s obviously had a lot to drink, and when I say a lot I actually mean a brewery load because she has the alcohol capacity of an old sailor and a mouth to match.
“Charlie,” she says in her smoker’s rasp. “Someone’s fucking in the en suite again.”
Charlie sits up indignantly. “In my en suite?”
Mick looks at him curiously. “You joined Sister Bramley over there Charlie? People are always fucking in your bathrooms. I’ve heard someone’s organising a tour of London’s top hot spots and your en suite’s on there at Number Three.”
Charlie glares. “The only person who should be fucking in my en suite is me and no one should be fucking at all tonight. This is a fucking family barbeque.” He gets to his feet. “Don’t worry Mrs M, I’ll sort it out.”
I stroke my chin imitating deep thought. “Last time you broke something up like that I seem to remember you joining them don’t you Mick?”
Mick laughs out loud. “Oh God I’d forgotten that.”
Charlie sticks his middle finger up at us and moves off.
“Go, go Professor Killjoy,” I shout and Mrs M laughs and then reels off asking people where Seth is.
“Where is Seth?” Mick asks.
“Anywhere Mrs M isn’t I should think.” Mrs M is very fond of Seth but it translates into groping him which he says makes him very uncomfortable. The mileage that we’ve had over the years about his octogenarian admirer is legendary.
Mick and I settle into a comfortable silence for a few minutes idly watching the crowd. Oh alright I’m still watching Alys. Finally he stirs. “Who’s that girl with Alys?”
I look round. “That’s Elen, her mate from university.” I smile slyly at him. “Interested are we young man?”
He turns a bit red which is interesting because Mick never gets embarrassed about anything. It’s also like blood in the water for me, and I spare a moment to wish that Sid was here to get the impact of the King of the Piss Takers being hoist on his own petard or whatever that means.
I continue to stare at him and he squirms running his hand over his collar. Finally he looks at me. “Oh fucking shut up. I’ll get you back for this Bram.”
I laugh loudly. “I’m just enjoying this. Don’t stop. You know I should probably ring Seth and we can go and buy our hats now.”
He laughs. “Just tell me you prick.”
I relent. “She’s single as far as I know. Daisy’s dad isn’t in the picture and from what Alys says he’s unlikely to be. He doesn’t want anything to do with the bairn.”
“Bastard,” Mick snarls and I nod in agreement. I fucking hate men that don’t provide for their kids.
“Anyway she’s a single parent.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me babe you know that.”
I do know it. Mick comes from a huge London family. He’s got six s
isters with him as the youngest boy, and about forty million cousins. You can’t go anywhere in London without falling over a Forrester. Sometimes literally because some of the men are hard core pissheads.
“She’s got baggage.”
He smiles. “Makes it all the more interesting Bramley.” He stares at Elen who is looking truculently at some poor sod who was chatting her up but is now obviously starting to fear for his life and considering making a run for it. Mick turns and smiles happily. “I love a good challenge. Introduce me, Cilla Black.”
Alys
After bouncing on the trampoline so much that I think I can feel my breakfast starting to reappear I pull Daisy off and head over to hand her over to Elen. She’d been standing talking to some bloke but as we come up to them he scuttles off. I laugh. “Another one bites the dust Freddie Mercury?”
“No stamina the men in London,” she mutters.
“I wouldn’t know. The man I’m living with appears to be blessed with the luck of the Irish in that department.”
She darts a look over at the house where I see Bram and Mick slouched talking comfortably. For a second I see interest in her cool brown eyes before it disappears but my heart sinks. Please don’t be interested in him. Please don’t let me lose a friend over this when he fucks her over like he does all women. I buy some time by throwing my jacket back on and slowly winding my scarf back round my neck and then I dart a glance at her. “He’s pretty,” I say casually. “But he’s such a womaniser.”
She looks startled. “Really? He’s a bit of a player then?”
I look at her in disbelief. “He’s got the staying power of an amoeba. Have you been listening to any of my cosy little chats about the army of naked women running around the flat? I’m beginning to wonder if this deafness is catching.”
“He brings women back to Bram’s flat?”
“To Bram’s flat? Of course he does.” I pause. “Hang on I’m confused now. Why wouldn’t Bram bring women back to his own flat?”
She laughs. “Did you think I was on about Bram? Fuck no. I’d rather eat my own eyeballs slowly than get involved with him. He’s got Irish heartbreaker written all over him.”
