by Lily Morton
“Am I getting through?”
I grab his hand. “I don’t know whether you’re getting through or setting me up for the ultimate failure, but you’re right, I do need to talk to him and I’m so sorry that I’ve messed you about.”
He squeezes my hand back. “Well look at that. I’m not a side character at all. I’m the motherfucking architect of change.”
I laugh and change the subject so that we can finish our dinner in peace.
***
As soon as his words had registered with me I’d somehow hoped that the meal would have been over and I could have teleported myself magically to Bram’s side where he would have welcomed me with open arms, but that’s not what happened. Instead, the meal took ages to come and then our taxi driver got a flat tyre and we had to wait for him to change it which took ages. After that I’d insisted that Eddie be dropped off first despite his protests.
It’s therefore midnight when I put my key into the lock so I’m slightly surprised to feel the thud of very loud music coming from the flat and my heart sinks. Please don’t let him have a woman in there with him I silently pray. Please let me be able to talk to him before I lose my nerve. I smooth my hair down aware that I look very dishevelled thanks to standing in the wind by the taxi for an hour, and then I push the door open.
The music seems to be coming from the lounge so steeling myself I open the door only to stand in open mouthed amazement. ‘Bye Bye Bye’ by NSYNC is blaring from the speakers and I’m looking at Bram and Sid who are shirtless, Bram with what looks like one of my scarves draped artistically round his neck. They are dancing completely independently from one another. Sid is attempting a shaky head spin while Bram appears to be trying to moon walk, but in fact just seems to be walking backwards.
I venture further into the room and blink at the sight of Matt lying asleep on the floor amongst a pile of beer cans, and Mick dancing frenetically on the settee in just his boxers with a tea towel wrapped around his head. For a long moment I just stand and stare wishing fervently for a video camera, but then Mick spots me.
“Woo hoo it’s Alys,” he screeches. “She’s here.” He attempts a Mexican wave which is a forlorn hope and ends up being just him raising his arms as Matt slumbers on and Sid overbalances and lands with a muffled ‘shit’ under the table.
Bram however stands stock still, examining me with a laser like stare. His eyes run over my hair coming out of its chignon and the creases on my skirt from sitting hunched up next to Eddie on a bench trying to keep warm. His gaze gets progressively darker as he notes Eddie’s jacket around my shoulders, until it’s almost uncomfortable.
I try a smile wanting to coax him into a good mood. If he’s happy he’s more approachable and I want so much to talk to him but it doesn’t work. Instead he leans against the table and glares at me.
Sid emerges from under the table blinking in the light like an owl. “Hey Alys did you have a nice night?”
I tug at my skirt nervously, trying to avoid Bram’s stare which seems to be latched onto my wild hair like a heat seeking missile. “Oh yes very nice,” I gabble.
“You’re very late. Must have been a really good night.” Sid offers looking at the clock and then he must sense Bram’s mood because he looks awkward and stutters to a silence.
“Yes it is late. We didn’t realise the time. We got out of the restaurant early but time flies when you’re …”
I’m interrupted by Mick. “Hey, as long as you enjoyed yourselves. No need to treat us to the filthy details Alys,” he says, grinning as he jumps down and starts putting his clothes on nonchalantly as if it happens all the time. He reaches out and kicks Matt gently. “Come on Rip van Willy. Let’s get going. The lady of the house is home.”
“Oh no,” I gabble. “You don’t understand, we were only …”
Bram breaks into my attempt to explain what happened by reaching forward abruptly to my hair. Repressing a flinch I let him run his fingers through the strands. His hand emerges clutching a leaf. “You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards,” he says coldly. “I’d have expected more from him.”
“But not from me,” I say indignantly, catching his gibe.
“Okaaay!” Sid claps his hands together and looks so very much like a nursery nurse for a second that I almost expect him to make us sit on the naughty step, but instead he grabs Bram in a head lock speaking in a low voice. I think that I hear him telling him to calm down but I can’t be sure because the next minute he heaves a semi-conscious Matt to his feet, and then he and Mick are gone in a flurry of goodbyes until the door slams leaving us in an awkward silence.
This is broken by Bram turning on his heel and walking back into the lounge. I follow him wanting to wring my hands together, and then stand watching impotently as he rights furniture and starts to gather together the dirty glasses and empty bottles. His movement are jerky and almost uncoordinated, and I follow him from one end of the room to the other feeling like a dog that’s been told off. I can feel a slow burning anger begin to build inside me at this treatment but I push it down because I need to talk to him after tonight’s revelations. I therefore decide to try again.
“I did have a nice night but you’ll never guess what happened.”
I don’t have time to complete the sentence because he whirls on me slamming the bottle that he’s carrying onto the table where it promptly shatters. He curses under his breath but ignores the mess, coming to stand in front of me. He’s still shirtless and I can see his chest rising and falling quickly.
“I couldn’t guess eh?” he says clearly, his voice thick with some emotion. “Well, why don’t I have a try? What do I win for the right answer though Alys? A night in your bed? Been there, done that babe and it’s obviously going cheap now.”
“What the fuck?” I feel anger rise through me with the force of a tsunami. “Where the fuck do you get off talking to me like that Bram? You have no right.”
He sneers. “Fucking good because I don’t want any fucking rights to you Alys. I thought you were different but I suppose I’ll live and learn because you’re just like all the rest of them giving it up for what you can get. Only your price is a lot lower isn’t it? If I’d known it only took a fucking meal for you to drop your knickers I’d have cooked a lot sooner.”
The room echoes with the sound of the slap and I gasp stunned as I cradle my stinging palm and look aghast at the mark on his face. I have never in my life slapped anyone like that to stop them talking, but his words are poisonous and there’s such venom in the way that he’s talking to me.
“How fucking dare you judge me,” I shout. He can fuck off if I’m going to let him know what happened tonight. Eddie was wrong. He’s just a twat that doesn’t want me but doesn’t want anyone else to have me.
“I’ll judge you,” he shouts back. “You jump into fucking bed with me, spread your legs and then just jump out like it’s nothing, and now you’ve moved onto Eddie. Poor fucker had better be ready for when you do another runner. Maybe he should put running shoes by your bed, not slippers.”
“You’re saying this to me. Get over yourself you fucking, massive hypocrite. You’re the king of the fucking one night stands Bram, or maybe I should say one hour stands because they’re out the door almost as soon as you’ve both come.”
“Well it didn’t work with you did it? After all, I’ve had you and you’re still fucking here hanging around me like a fucking bad smell,” he sneers and I stare at him for a second unable to believe that this is the same person that I’ve lived with for two years, laughed with and loved. This person who is looking at me like I’m a piece of shit that he’s just stepped in.
“You wanted me to stay,” I finally manage to say, feeling like my throat is full of glass. “You begged me to stay, said that you needed me here.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I lied Alys. I felt fucking sorry for you. You’ve got nobody and no money. I owed it to my mum to let you stay because apparently you’re som
e sort of charity case that everyone feels sorry for.”
I gasp standing back and holding my hand over my heart as if I can force it back into my chest. I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend. They know all your weak spots and where to hit so it really bloody hurts.
He flinches hard at my gesture and it seems to run through his body because he’s trembling like a dog that’s been out in the cold, and for a second I think that I see remorse in his eyes. Seeing it my rage ebbs slightly and I reach out to touch him only to watch him shy away from me like I’m acid. “Bram,” I manage. “Please let’s talk. Eddie said …”
The rage flares brightly. “Oh Eddie said something. Well by all means let’s all gather together and hear his words of fucking wisdom. Come on Alys, what did Eddie say?”
I swallow hard. This is the end, I know it. I can feel it, so I might as well be honest. I’ve always been honest with him since the minute that I met him. I thought that he liked it. “He says that you have feelings for me and you were jealous when you found out that he was taking me out.”
I flinch as he bends over laughing. “Oh my God that’s fucking priceless. So you discussed me did you? Poor Bram all alone pining over the one woman that he can’t have. I bet you were both crying with pity for me over your fucking crème brulee.” His voice chills, sliding over me like frostbite. “Well don’t flatter yourself darling. You’re not unattainable. I fucking had you and you weren’t worth keeping and that’s the honest truth.” He looks me up and down dismissively. “As if I would want you in a million years. Have you seen the women that walk through this flat? You have an odd opinion of yourself if you think that you’re better than them, that you’re the one who will get me. Please. Take a look in the fucking mirror.”
I feel tears slide down my face heavy and viscous like they’re poison, and I can’t bear the thought that I’d had it so wrong. I’d been right all along. That morning he had been looking for a way to let me go, and I feel humiliation pour through me making me attack because it’s the only defence that I’ve ever had since my mum died. “Don’t worry Bram I cleared it up with Eddie. There’s no way I’d take you seriously because I know you. You’re Mr Just Enough. Someone for the moment, never anything more. No one takes you seriously because you’re about as disposable as a used condom.”
He jerks back like I’ve hit him, his face white and haggard and for a second my words seem to echo on the still air and I put my hand out to him to say sorry, to tell him that he is everything and I’m sorry that I used those words which I know will hurt him because I’m privileged enough to know him.
However, I don’t get a chance because in front of me his rage dies, dialled down to an almost bitter cold. His face is still and set like a statue as he looks at me and his voice is clear as a bell as he makes sure that I can see his lips move. “I want you out of here tonight Alys. I don’t want you living here anymore.”
Then he’s gone as I sink to the floor sitting staring at the nothing which is all that’s left of us.
Chapter Fourteen
Amsterdam
1 month later
Bram
I sit on the sofa in my suite staring down at my phone and pressing the on button, watching the screen repeatedly darken and then lighten showing the face of the woman that I can’t stop thinking about. It’s a picture that I took of her at a party and it shows her in the middle of a conversation with some dick that was trying to get into her knickers. The reason that it’s on my home screen is that little crinkle in her forehead that she gets when she’s concentrating super hard to make sure that she understands everything. That and the look of dainty aggression that she gets quite often, especially around me, or she used to.
Sighing I activate the messages section and pull up the stream of ones that I’d sent her. The last one lies there unblinking:
I’m sorry babe. I can’t say it enough. Please ring me or write back. I need to speak to you
There’s no reply. There hasn’t been since that night.
I reach for my beer and take a sip wincing when I think of that night. The look on her face, the awful things that I said, and after going over and over it in my mind, the feeling that I’d got something wrong somewhere and that if I’d kept my temper and listened to what she was trying to tell me I might have heard something that I needed to hear.
My eyes feel hot and I press the bottle into my forehead to try to ease the ache, but then a heavy knock at the door distracts me. My lips curl up slightly. I know that it’s Seth before I open the door. No way that his massive hands could not make a loud noise, and besides which he’d called me out on the bus yesterday over the amount of women who’ve come back to my room on this tour. I’d managed to evade him then but he’s like the clap. Once you’ve got him he sticks around.
“Coming sweetheart,” I call and opening the door I catch him in mid sneer. “Oh it’s you darling,” I coo. “Aren’t you worried about interrupting the various debauched activities going on in Sodom and Gomorrah, or my hotel room as it’s more commonly called?”
“I knew you were alone,” he drawls as he saunters in. “I waited for them to change over. They’re like buses, there’s a gap in between service to allow for cleaning.”
“Ooh that’s very bitchy, Mr Committed Relationship.”
He turns round. “Let’s not mention my life Pip. Let’s stick to the fucking almighty mess that you’re making of yours.”
I throw myself down on the sofa motioning to the fridge. “Well let’s hear it then Mother Teresa. You won’t be happy until you’ve chastised me.”
He doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, perching his massive frame down on the sofa he turns to look at me, his bottle green eyes clear and all seeing. “I just want to know what’s wrong with you Pip? I know that you love women but you’ve had so many this tour that the walk of shame the next morning is starting to become a bit more like a stampede.” I snort and start to hum the theme to ‘The Lion King’ but it dies in my throat with his next words. “I thought you were starting something with Alys.”
My throat hurts and I swallow hard. “There’s no point in starting anything with her. She needs someone that means something.”
“What the fuck?” His voice is instantly aggrieved on my behalf. “You mean something.”
I smile twistedly. “Not really mate. I’m like one of those adverts on the phone boxes – ‘see for a good time’. I’m good for a shag. Fuck I’m the best.” He shakes his head muttering something about practice but he stills as I go on. “I’m not heavyweight enough in life for her. You’ve seen her. She’s clever. Fuck, she’s so bloody clever and she’s so brave. She’s alone in the world. I don’t think any of us can say that.”
He winces and I remember that ultimately he’s been alone since his mum died when he was 18. “You have us mate. You always have,” I say softly and he nods smiling. I sigh and carry on, my voice thick. “She needs someone like her. Someone clever and committed. Someone heavyweight. I’m just a bass player and a part time model. You don’t get much more lightweight.”
Seth stares at me astonishment in his eyes and then says carefully, “You do know that you’re so much more than that don’t you? Bram, you’re the fucking glue that keeps us together.”
I jerk. “What?”
“Yes, it’s you dimwit. How can someone so intelligent believe such shit about themselves? The way that you give us the beat with the music and keep the tune on track, that’s what you do in real life. Bram, we’d have split up years ago if it wasn’t for you. You read us all so fucking well, better than anyone. If anyone’s unhappy you’re there and you sort it out. The jokes and the happy go lucky character you’ve got, well they’ve stopped more fights than I can count. Pip, we all take you fucking seriously.” He pauses, staring at me hard. “In fact the only person that doesn’t take you seriously is you.”
I look back at him and somehow those honest, blunt words seem to worm themselves furthe
r into my brain than any of the empty compliments that I receive every day of my life, and I feel something in me relax. He sees it and some of his tenseness seems to let go too and then he skewers me with another deep look. “Now tell me what’s happened,” he commands and I do.
We talk for ages and I tell him everything that has happened since I opened my door to her that early, sunny morning. When I finish he sits in silence for a minute and then stirs. “But if you feel like this why the hell are you fucking all these women?”
I stare at the opposite wall because he’s going to rip the piss out of me when I tell him the truth. “I haven’t actually fucked any of them.” I say it quickly in the hope that he’ll move on but I know it’s forlorn before I finish speaking because his voice is filled with startled humour.
“What?”
“You heard me. I haven’t fucked any of them.”
“But why?”
“Because somehow she’s put a fucking spell on my cock. I can’t stop thinking about her and I can’t get hard even when they’re naked.”
There’s a long pause at that and I can practically see his big body vibrating. “But what have you been doing with them?”
“Well quite often I just send them away and say that I’m tired.”
“But why haven’t the tales of your erectile dysfunction hit the press?”
I turn on him. “I have not got erectile dysfunction,” I say hotly which is enough to send him into paroxysms of mirth. “Oh, laugh it up you giant twat. I told you it’s her. She’s a witch and she’s cursed my fucking cock.”
He returns to the embarrassing subject like a terrier after a rat. “But what excuse have you given them?”
