by Lily Morton
“That’s precious and just between me and Joe. Don’t besmirch our love.” Bram is laughing quite hard now very obviously drunk and carefree, and suddenly anger courses through me.
“What was that all about then?” I snap gesturing back to the pub.
Matt freezes with the air of someone who wishes that he were anywhere else, but Bram’s too drunk to be wary yet.
“What was what?”
“You punching that bloke.”
“Alys he fucking deserved it.”
“No he didn’t. He was just being friendly.”
He gives a sneering laugh and I can safely say that if I had hackles they would be rising. “Alys he was a bloody star fucker. He’d clocked who Charlie and I were ages before and he wanted a piece of what he thought we’d had so that he could fucking brag to his mates.”
I see Matt groan and lower his head and when I speak my voice is ice cold. “So what you’re actually saying is that I am unable to attract men, and in fact the only way that the male species would be attracted to me is as an extension of your famous and all round fabulous fucking self.”
Drunk as he is he obviously scents danger. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just him, he was a complete twat.”
“And you managed to sum him up in twenty seconds did you because that’s how long you spoke to him? Well how astute of you, how fucking discerning. It’s almost like a bloody superpower.”
I can see him getting angry now and Matt stirs, dropping Charlie’s feet. “Now come on you two let’s not …”
“Shut up!” we both shout and then instantly turn on each other again nose to nose, bristling with anger that seems to have come from nowhere. “He had his hand on you,” Bram shouts.
“Well that’s a bloody capital offense,” I shout back. “Let’s string him up now because God forbid that I should have sex. We have to leave that to you, the King of the Pantyless Women.”
He recoils. “You wanted to have sex with him?” He sounds almost winded but I ignore it forging ahead with my rage which has been bubbling for weeks watching him with woman after woman and turning me down like I was a fucking leper.
“I might have done. He was a fucking good looking bloke. Sexy. You don’t bloody own me Bram. I can and will have a fucking sex life. I don’t belong to you and you don’t belong to me, that’s right isn’t it? So now you can go on screwing all those models until you run out and the government has to clone some new ones.”
I’m distantly aware that he has shut down, his face cold with only a madly banging tic in his jaw to show his agitation. “Alys,” Matt says and Bram makes a gesture.
“No Matt, mind your own fucking business. Alys was just enlightening me on the fact that I’m a total slut and she’s going to go out banging as many pretty boys as she can. That’s what you were saying isn’t it?” He turns his cold face to me.
“Yes that’s right,” I say defiantly. “Because it doesn’t mean anything to you does it?”
“No it doesn’t,” he says clearly and coldly, making sure that I can see his face. “It means fuck all to me.”
Chapter Ten
Alys
After that night our relationship drifts into Cold War territory. When I see him he acknowledges me coldly, but that’s it. He won’t talk or laugh with me and it’s like I’m the unwanted guest that I’d always thought I was at the beginning.
I’ve started to stay out later and later unwilling to go back to an empty flat as he’s hardly in, or worse to an occupied one as he’ll shag his women anywhere now with little regard as to how I’ll feel when I catch them. It’s almost as if he’s taunting me and stating that this is the real him. I’ve lost track of the times that I’ve seen him shagging someone, and at night I twist and turn unable to get his beautiful body out of my head thrusting into yet another vapid beauty.
The women don’t help either as there seems to be a never ending procession of models and actresses sitting across from me at the breakfast table, wearing very little and treating me like the maid.
I’ve therefore taken to stopping at Elen’s house, enjoying the respite from what seems like a re-enactment of the last days of the Roman Empire. Only yesterday I’d walked in on him fucking two women on the couch. He’d been energetically fucking one of the girls while the other girl licked her friend’s pussy and porn played loudly on the TV. I’d refused to give him the satisfaction of showing how upset I was. Instead I’d walked straight out and gone to Elen.
I know he’s noticed that I’m not sleeping there but rather than being grateful he appears to be getting angrier every day, and tonight when I let myself into the flat at two in the morning his mouth is so thin that it’s almost disappeared. I’d actually not expected him to be there as he’d been at an awards ceremony tonight so I’m surprised to find him sitting on the settee tapping his long fingers on his thigh. “Hello,” I call out making sure that it sounds cheery. He says nothing, just stares at me those fingers still keeping up the tapping.
“Where have you been?” he finally asks coldly, and I wince inside missing so much the way that we were.
“Out,” I finally offer.
“With who?”
“None of your business.” I won’t tell him that I’ve been licking my wounds at Elen’s house. Let him think that I’ve been making a head start on that red hot sex life I’d promised.
He surges to his feet, welcome rage replacing the previous apathy. “Well I do think it’s my business.”
My rage suddenly dies and although I search hard for it, it’s inconveniently vanished and all I can feel is sadness that this is where we are. I look at him and underneath the anger I finally see the pain which makes me say, “Please Bram let’s not do this to each other. Let’s …” I pause and he looks at me hope filling his face, but then a door opens and in strolls Amber dressed in only a bra and panties.
At first I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Women in lingerie are obviously not a novelty. I mean some days it’s like being backstage at a Victoria’s Secret show in this flat, but Amber … he’s taken it too far now. He knows full well that she hates me after the night that he fucked her and chucked her. We’d discussed it a few months ago and for some reason this feels like the biggest betrayal that he could make.
I know that he’s going to sleep with women. He won’t sleep with me and as much as that hurts I’ve accepted it, but they’re famous women in their own right and they appear and disappear without me having to see them again. However, Amber’s different. This is personal. I feel my spine get stiff as I turn to glare stonily at him. A flash of panic runs over his face and he wrings his hands, but I ignore the pleading looks and turn back to the pantied one.
“Hello Amber,” I say, and I’m relieved at how calm and cold I sound. “This is an unexpected surprise.”
She smirks. “Hello Alys.” She’s talking in an insultingly loud voice, over pronouncing her words as if she’s talking to the village idiot.
I feel Bram shift and hear him say something to her but I’m fucking damned if I’ll ask him to repeat himself in front of her. Instead I make myself smile pityingly at her. “I’m so sorry,” I say clearly and slowly. “I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” she asks sharply, reverting back to her normal tone.
“That you had a speech impediment.”
“I bloody do not,” she says indignantly. Looking up I catch Bram’s face contorting with humour, and then he looks up and catches my eye and just for a second it’s like we’re us again, a team against anyone else that’s looking to be horrible. But then Amber stirs and slides next to him wrapping her thin arms around his cut hipbones. “Can we help you Alys?” she asks snootily as if she’s the lady of the house and I’m one of those cold callers.
I stare at Bram, ignoring her completely as he tries to remove her arms without hurting her but she’s got a grip like a tiny blonde octopus, and I feel my mouth lift into a sneer. “No I don’t think so,” I finally say co
ldly. “I don’t see anything here that I need thank you.”
Bram flinches but it happens so quickly that it’s almost imperceptible, and then his face settles into a stoical mask and he slides his arm around Amber looking at me almost challengingly and I know that’s my cue. “Well I have to be going,” I say clearly.
Bram’s head jerks up. “Going? Going where – it’s fucking two in the morning.”
I make myself laugh out loud. “Oh Bram sometimes you’re such a fucking granddad. That’s not late. There’s plenty going on at this time.”
Amber stirs forcing herself back into the conversation with her invisible crowbar. “Yes Bram, let her go if she’s got a party to go to.” She gives me an extremely false look of concern. “Just be careful babe not to get into trouble.”
I stare at her marvelling at her terrible parental impression and something snaps. “Hmm trouble.” I stroke my chin in contemplation. “What, you mean like being back in a rock star’s bed months after he fucked you and couldn’t put you in a taxi quick enough? Like being so desperate that you’ll take all the scraps that you can get because you’re a desperate star fucker? That sort of trouble?”
Her face goes completely red which is not a good colour on her, and I know that our antipathy is now out of the closet and from now on she’s not going to pretend to be my friend. However, for now she can’t quite find the words, so taking the opportunity I whisk past her and Bram ignoring his sudden move to stop me and waltz out of the flat calling out goodnight.
I don’t come back from Elen’s until the next afternoon when Bram is usually sure to be out, but when I walk through the door I stop dead in surprise at the music which is blasting out at ear melting decibels. It’s combined with the noise of a lot of people talking and shouting. I hesitate because this sounds like a party and if Bram’s throwing it then I might not want to be here.
I’m just about to edge back out the door when Bram darts into the foyer. He says something, his arms flailing like a windmill, and I make a gesture to say that I can’t hear him for the background noise. Nodding agitatedly he grabs my arm and ignoring my startled cry of ‘oy’ he manoeuvres me out of the foyer and through the first door which is the gym. The door falls shut with a muffled thud and I sigh in relief as silence descends, courtesy of the soundproof walls.
Finally recollecting myself I look at Bram. “What the hell? Why are we in here? Are you having a party?”
He shakes his head, no sign of our previous antipathy crossing his face. Instead he looks agitated and unsure.
“What’s the matter?” I ask cautiously and he runs his hand through his hair peering at the door as if he can see through it. “Oh my God what have you done Bram? What’s going on out there that I can’t see?”
He smirks looking blessedly normal for a second and then shakes his head. “I haven’t done anything. It’s Charlie.”
“Oh my God is he drunk again?”
He smiles wryly. “You could say that or you could say that he’s blotto, fuck-faced, lathered - whichever of those you favour.”
“Why is he drunk and why is he here and who are all those people?”
He makes a slow down gesture. “He arrived in the middle of the night. He hasn’t been sober since he woke up, and fuck knows who those people are. They just turned up.”
I’m flabbergasted. “What and you didn’t ask them why they were here?”
He looks slightly shamefaced. “The way things have been lately I sort of thought that I might have invited them and couldn’t remember.”
I shake my head at him and then rub my eyes. “I can’t even get into the inherent wrongness that is you now inviting randoms into your house and forgetting about it. Let’s concentrate on Charlie. What’s happened because I know that he likes a drink but this is ridiculous?”
He looks relieved probably because I’m the only sober person that he can talk to at the moment, and I can’t deny that I’m enjoying the temporary ceasefire between us and that feeling of deep friendship which seems to sit close to the surface between us whatever happens.
He gestures for me to sit so I perch precariously on the edge of the rowing machine and look at him expectantly. “Something happened with Mabe last night.”
“Not another argument over the lawyer?”
“No, or at least not at first. From what I can gather and he’s not exactly coherent, he slept with her last night.”
“What?”
“Fuck!” he swears, holding his hands over his ears. “That was fucking high Al. I think I might be deaf now too.”
I flap my hands at him. “Never mind you, this is great. They go together like …” I pause.
“Cheese and onion,” he offers.
“Well I would have gone for something more romantic but hey okay.” He smiles but then I veer back on subject. “But wait, surely if they’re together he’d be home with her happy and instead he’s …”
“Here,” he offers helpfully. “I know oh Mistress of the Bleeding Obvious. Apparently her phone went off in the middle of the night and it was a load of sexts from that lawyer bloke.”
“Oh my God. So what did she say when he told her?”
He rubs his hand over his hair. “Erm.”
I stare at him. “He didn’t say anything did he?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly? Bram did he just walk out in the middle of the night?”
“Bingo!” he says unhappily.
“Fuck Bram, he’s worse at relationships than you.”
“Hey,” he says crossly.
“Whatever Trevor you know it’s the truth. So have you talked to him, told him to go home and speak to Mabe? Have you told him that it’s probably a big mistake?” He shuffles his feet staring at the treadmill rather than looking at me. “Oh my God you haven’t done that. What have you done then?”
“Erm we wrote some music and then listened to some music and erm …”
“Drank?” I offer sweetly and he glares at me.
“Alys we’re men. I said to him ‘do you want to talk about it’ and he said no, so …”
“So?”
“So we didn’t. Don’t look at me like that you fucking Irish witch. So what would you have done in my place?”
“Hmm let me think. Oh maybe made him talk.”
He shakes his head. “I never thought about that.”
I sigh heavily. “Okay enough dissecting of your idiocy. We need to go out there and you need to get rid of all those really wanted guests. Then we need to sober him up and get him home.”
We emerge into the madhouse and fight our way through a huge crowd in the lounge, mostly composed I note of scantily clad women. The noise is immense and I sigh with relief when Bram shoves his way to the stereo and switches it off leaving blissful silence for a second until it’s drowned out by boos. Bram stands on the coffee table and puts his fingers in his mouth and lets out a piercing whistle. “Okay you fuckers. Party’s over. Get out.”
For a second I wonder if they’re going to obey but I needn’t have worried. For all his amiability there’s a side to Bram that shows itself occasionally that says very strongly that he can look after himself and he’ll fuck you up if you cross him. As the crowd thins I groan at the sight of the dirty glasses and bottles everywhere and the cloying odour of dope in the air. Then I see Charlie slumped in all his handsome glory on one of the settees. Looking up he spots me. “Alys,” he shouts. “Hey it’s Alys everyone.”
I wave ironically to the nobody that is left and sit down next to him. And then tense as who should saunter into the room but Amber who is dressed in my clothes. She’s wearing my bloody grey sweater dress which makes me doubly mad because it was what I was wearing the last time things were okay between Bram and I. “Amber,” I say through clenched teeth and hear Bram say ‘shit’ and make his way over from the door where he’s been waving people off like he’s a mum with party bags.
“Alys,” she sneers and then waves at her outfit.
“You don’t mind me borrowing your clothes do you? Bram ripped mine off me and he said it was okay to borrow something from you.” I turn to glare at Bram who looks dumbfounded and yet still attractive damn him, before turning back to her.
“Not at all,” I say frostily.
She laughs. “That’s good, although they’re very big on me. You’re a very healthy looking girl aren’t you?”
“Never mind,” I say coldly. “The extra space will come in useful for the ten ton of celebrity semen that you must be carrying around these days.”
“Oh God,” Bram groans and Charlie laughs out loud. I blatantly turn my back on her and turn to Charlie.
“You okay babe?” I ask and he slumps, pushing his head back against the cushions.
“Not really Alys.” He pauses. “Hey you’re a woman.”
“Thank you for noticing,” I say tartly and he laughs but it’s bitterly.
“Well tell me babe what you would do if you found text messages from another man on the love of your life’s phone after a night when you thought that you’d finally got everything that you’ve ever wanted?”
“Oh Charlie,” I say softly, running my fingers gently through his hair. “I would have spoken to her about it.”
“Yeah exactly,” he slurs and then a comical look of confusion comes over his face. “Wait. What?”
“Charlie I love you.”
“Hey!” Bram shouts.
“Charlie I love you,” I start again. “But sometimes babe you’re a bit of a fuckwit. Why didn’t you ask her? It’s Mabe not some two timer and she’s in love with you.”
“No she isn’t,” he scoffs before turning a vulnerable face to me. “Is she?”
“Yes,” I nod. “And you need to talk to her. I bet it’s a mistake.”
He stares at me and I see reason work its way through the alcohol and pain. “You’re right,” he says slowly. “I need to see her.” He tries to stand up from the settee but promptly loses his balance, catching himself using my head.
“Hey!”
“Sorry darling.” He pats my head. “Love you babe. You’re the fucking best Alys.”
