by Lily Morton
I shrug irritably. “Well sometimes I just tell them that I’m knackered from a threesome that I had earlier, or I take their number and tell them that I’m trying to learn how to respect women.” He howls with laughter, scrubbing tears off his face. “It’s not funny mate. I’ve had to come up with a lot of plausible excuses and I’m telling you I think I’m onto something. They don’t half come on strong when they think that you don’t want them.”
“That’s not a new thing son. Women have been doing it for years.”
I stare at him. “That’s awfully cynical of you Seth. Perhaps we’d be better off talking about your problems.”
“No, let’s go back to talking about these women.” I sigh heavily but he ignores me. “You’ve not slept with any of them, and they’ve honestly accepted your pathetic excuses of being tired or your alarming new character trait of being too respectful of women?”
“Well sometimes if they’ve been really pushy and there have been more than one then they’ve fucked each other and I’ve pretended to watch when really all I’ve been doing is thinking of her. I’m telling you it’s been a hard month.”
“Bram, 90% of men would pay to have your problems.”
I sober abruptly all the laughter draining out of me. “I just miss her so much.”
“But you still chucked her out of your flat?”
I sigh. “I didn’t chuck her out.” He looks at me. “Well I did but I didn’t mean to. I was just so fucking hurt by what she said, and I was so angry at the thought of him touching her and me being away and that fucking bell end being with her in my fucking home. That’s not bloody right. She’s not his, she’s …”
“What?”
“Mine,” I finally say softly, closing my eyes.
“Finally. You do know what’s wrong with you don’t you?”
I wag a finger at him. “Don’t you fucking say it Seth. It’s like saying ‘Candyman’, it’ll come true.”
“I’m going to say it Bram because this is it. You’re in love with her.”
I groan and scrub my hands over my face. “Fuck, I knew it. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t want to be in love.”
“I know the feeling.” I stare at him because I have a feeling that he’s not talking about Lucy, but he avoids my eyes and carries on. “Would it be so bad to be in love?”
I’ve known him so long that I can’t keep up a shield with him. I hesitate but, “Yes when you love people they let you go.”
“Not everyone,” he says softly. “You love Sid and Matt and everyone else.”
“I know but it’s her. If she lets go of me I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t bear to even think about it.”
“So avoiding the subject and dancing around, has that made it go away?”
I slump. “No, it’s just made it worse.”
He pauses. “So basically let me sum your situation up. You fell in love with a woman and yet you shagged other women, sometimes in front of her. Then you give into temptation and sleep with her and the next morning you think that she rejects you.”
“She did,” I say hotly but he shakes his head.
“Jury’s out on that mate but knowing Alys and seeing the way that she is with you I sincerely doubt that she didn’t want something with you.” I stare at him willing him to say more but he goes back to his dreary recital. “She stays with you and tries to be your friend and then decides to move on with another man so you kick her out of your house. Then, to show her, you decide to take loads of women up to your room. You can’t fuck them but she and the rest of the world think that you have. Is that it or have I missed anything?”
I glare at him sulkily. “Well when you say it like that it makes it sound even worse.” There’s silence for a moment and then I can’t stop the next question leaving my lips. “I was just so angry and hurt and jealous and I said some awful things to her that aren’t true. It’s kept me awake at night thinking about it. Do you think that I can get her back Seth?”
He looks at me searchingly. “Not, if it’s not forever Bram. She deserves that and so do you. Can you do it?”
I nod. “I think with her I really can Seth. Put it like this I can’t imagine life without her. A month has been hell. I want her.”
He picks up my beer from my slack fingers and takes a healthy swig. “Then you’ll have to win her back but you’ll have to be careful because if you push too hard she’ll think that it’s just a whim brought on by competition.”
“You mean be subtle?”
He looks at me doubtfully. “Yeah I know it’s not a talent of yours.” I huff and he smirks. “Just keep in touch. Write to her and tell her how sorry you are. Ring her if she’ll take your calls. You can’t do much more at this moment with the tour going on.”
I nod smiling slightly at having a workable plan and a hope to the end of this fucking horrible misery. “Yes I’ll contact her and wow her with my friendship, and then when we get back I’ll overwhelm her with shock and awe.”
“Mate you do know that’s a military description for a massacre don’t you?”
“He who dares wins as a philosopher once said.”
“That wasn’t a philosopher. I think it was Del Boy from ‘Only Fools and Horses’.”
“Potpourri Rodney. Potpourri.”
Alys
I sit on the bus, morosely flipping the case on my phone open and shut. The message alert blinks letting me know that he’s sent another text. I know it’s him. It seems that I now have a second sense where he’s concerned. I sigh. If I’m being honest it’s all my senses, and they all miss him: I miss the smell of him, that warm citrus spice; I miss the sound of his voice with that Irish lilt; I miss feeling his warm skin touching mine when he wraps his arms around me; and if I’m honest I’ve missed the salty taste of him since that night a year ago. I sigh again and against my will my finger rises and I tap the message icon.
Instantly the new message opens. lt lies alongside all the other entreaties that he’s sent over the last month that I’ve ignored which begged me to talk to him.
Bram: I miss you so much it hurts
I feel tears well up in my eyes because the hell of it is that I miss him too, so much. A thousand times a day I turn to tell him something or look to him when Mick says something outrageous so that I can see that quirk of his eyebrow and witness his quicksilver mind coming up with a smart riposte.
I don’t know why I’m hesitating really. At the click of a finger I could have him back as my friend. I’m not mad with him anymore. I never really was once I got over my temper and devastation. I know he behaved like a twat and he did throw me out of the flat, but he’d rung me the next morning when he’d calmed down begging me to go back and it was me that had refused to take his calls.
I can understand his temper and the things that he said and I’m not saying it like some little woman who makes excuses for her man’s behaviour. I’m saying it because I was just as much at fault as him. I’d handled the whole thing so badly, said all the wrong words, but I’d just been so full with the idea that he might care for me, as if I was full of laughing gas that was lifting me up.
I don’t think that anymore. Eddie was wrong. He doesn’t love me and that guts me so much it’s like I’m walking around with an open wound, but at the end of the day that’s not his fault and it’s not mine either. The time just wasn’t right for us but maybe it will be right for us to be friends again because that’s a way I can see him every day, touch him casually and be in his life and have him in mine.
However, the question and the reason why I haven’t responded to him after I recovered my wits and temper, is whether it’s enough for me. Will I be able to play this role when he falls in love and marries? Can I keep it hidden? Will I be able to fall for anyone else when he’s always front and centre in my mind and my heart? At the moment I have no answer to these questions so I’m stuck in this stasis.
The ring of the bell and the doors opening recall me to myself and I realise th
at we’re at my stop so hopping off I start the walk back to my current abode which is Mick and Elen’s house. They’d welcomed me that night as if there was no question of where I should be, and ever since then they’ve maintained stoutly that they don’t want me to leave. Mick hasn’t said a word against Bram and I’m careful to keep his name out of our conversations, but I don’t think he’d be uncomfortable anyway. He has a healthy knack of not taking sides. As he put it that first night Bram is his friend and so am I, and if the twain will never meet then that really isn’t any of his business.
However, he’s kind and in love with my best friend and they’re still in the first throes of love and living together as a little family with Daisy, and so my time with them is coming to an end and I’ve already made tentative motions about going into university housing if a room comes up.
I sigh as I wander along fidgeting with my short black and white skirt which has got very loose. The weather is still cold so I’m wearing black opaque tights underneath it and I’ve teamed it with a black jumper and my leather jacket and wound a large, saffron yellow scarf around my neck. It doesn’t make much difference though as I’m still freezing which is maybe because of all the weight that I’ve lost. My thoughts are interrupted as I pass a big black car idling at the kerb near Mick’s house, and then I come to a dead halt as I open their front gate and see Bram sitting on the front step.
He’s hunched over and hasn’t heard me so for a second I have the precious time to drink in everything about him. He’s dressed in old faded jeans with a black jumper, and has slung a zip up black hoody and his leather moto jacket over the top. His long legs are stretched out and his feet clad in old combat boots are tapping a restless beat. His hair has grown longer, flopping over his face and reaching his neck, and when his head shoots up and he goes still looking at me, I can see dark shadows like bruises under his eyes.
His gaze seems to drink me in and he half smiles anxiously before rising to his feet in a graceful movement that’s so typical of him. He hovers for a second obviously unsure of his welcome and I send my gaze over him greedily drinking him in.
My words shoots out of my mouth without thought. “You’ve lost weight.”
He looks startled for a second and then a ghost of a smile crosses his mouth. “I haven’t been hungry,” he mutters and carries on staring at me. He frowns. “You have too.” He looks simultaneously angry and hopeful as if he welcomes that I might have missed him while hating it. I know the feeling.
We stand for what seems like forever just staring at each other and he seems nervous with a visible tremor running through his body. Finally he stirs. “I had to come,” he says clearly. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Why?”
He looks startled as if that had never occurred to him and then shrugs. “I just had to. You’re very necessary to me.”
I wonder what that means but I don’t dare to ask because I’ve had enough of getting my hopes up.
He sags a little at my silence but then stares at me, visibly steeling himself for my response and I automatically tense. “I said some fucking awful things to you babe but you’ve got to know that I didn’t mean a word of them. I could punch myself in the throat every time I think about what I said.” He pauses and swallows hard. “I wrote and wrote and rang you so many times. Does that mean that you don’t want to see me anymore Alys, because you only have to say the word and I’ll go and you won’t have to speak to me again?”
“Really?” I ask in a choked voice and a shadow of his old self-deprecating expression crosses his face.
“Not really a ghrá, no. I’ll still keep coming babe.” He pauses. “I don’t think that I could stop. I was going mad over there. I can’t concentrate knowing that you hate me. It cuts me somewhere deep that you could feel like that about me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I say fiercely. “I could never hate you.”
Hope shines painfully in his face. “So you can still be my friend Al? You’ll talk to me again?”
I raise my hands and his painful stream of words stop. “The things that you said,” I start and he winces. “They were so awful and then to throw me out of your flat for talking to another man. That’s so fucking hypocritical of you with your constant stream of women that I just don’t have the words.”
He sighs. “It wasn’t you talking to him, it was how you looked when you got back.”
“And how was that?”
“Like you’d been in bed together, and I don’t know what happened but I just lost my mind and opened my mouth and let this shit out that had no business being anywhere near you.”
“You said I was a charity case.”
His head shoots up. “I fucking lied. I can’t even believe I said that but it’s not true. If anything I’m the fucking charity case.”
“What?”
“I’m reliant on you Alys in a way that I’ve never been reliant on anyone. I need you too much and I always knew that one day you’d leave me and I’d be alone again because you’re too good to stay. It’s just that when I thought it was happening I was … blindsided.” He looks up. “I’m a shitty friend Alys but will you take a chance with me again?”
I feel winded and at a loss because this is the question that’s been bugging me for weeks. Can I just be friends with him even though I love him? The answer eluded me before but now that I’m near him and can see and smell him again the reality is that of course I can because he’s as natural as breathing to me.
“I’ll always be your friend Bram,” I finally say. “No matter what happens that will always be a fact.”
Almost before I can finish speaking he steps forward and grabs me into his arms, hugging me tightly and shuddering somehow as if his whole body has relaxed its tension. I inhale sharply feeling the warmth and strength in his lean body and smelling the sharp leather smell of his jacket. After an eternity he pulls back slightly, looking at my face as if it’s some precious artefact.
The shadow has gone and his face is full of light and warmth again as though it’s come back to life and I find it hard to believe that I’ve had a hand in that. My decision seems reinforced because I do matter to him, not the way that I want but life isn’t always fair and we should keep our blessings when we get them, and this man is a blessing to me with his warmth and humour and the way that he gets me in a way that few ever have. I’m interrupted in my thoughts when he laughs joyously.
“Thank God Al. I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry”
I hug him. “I’ve missed you too.”
He shoots me an arch look. “So much that you couldn’t see or hear my messages I suspect. Well, it’s understandable I suppose. I’d miss me if I didn’t see me.”
“What?”
“Well I texted you and rang you but you apparently were blind and deaf to everything but grief.” I laugh and smack him but he hasn’t finished. “Unless,” he says slowly. “That stone age equipment that you call your lap top has malfunctioned.”
“It hasn’t, don’t be silly.” I smile helplessly, charmed as ever by him but he smirks looking very pleased with himself.
“I prefer the malfunction, Al. It makes that easier to give you.”
I follow his nod to a large, brightly wrapped box sitting by the step. “What is that?” I ask slowly and he laughs and gives me a gentle push.
“Go and find out dummy.”
I approach it like I would a box containing a psychotic clown. He’s spent money on me, I just know it. I don’t like him to do that and he knows it. Crouching down I slowly unwrap the bright paper inhaling sharply as the paper falls away revealing two big boxes and some smaller parcels. I run my fingers along the biggest box. “MacBook Air,” I groan. “Oh Bram what have you done?”
He laughs excitedly like a small boy at Christmas. “It lasts for up to 12 hours between charges so that’ll be fantastic for you at university and for the night time when you’ll obviously be writing to me.” He taps the other box. “That’s an iPa
d Pro. I thought you could do with something portable as well, and if you look in the other parcels there’s a cover for the iPad and a case for the MacBook.” He hands me a big parcel wrapped in Selfridge’s paper. “I bought you a new rucksack as well for university. I’m utterly sick of seeing that old piece of shit that you use and I saw this one by Stella McCartney which is much more you.”
I look up and shake my head slowly at him. “Bram how much have you spent on me? It’s too much. There’s no need to do this.”
He shakes his head. “I did have a need Al. I wanted to get these things for you more than I’ve wanted to buy anything in ages. I make my money and I get to choose what I spend it on, and Alys it pleases me to spoil you. You need spoiling and it’s a sad thing that no one has before me but I’m here now. I like doing it and it’s a pretty fool that comes between me and my need to spend money on you, and you may be pretty Al but you’re not a fool.”
“I’m still worried by this Bram. I feel like you felt that you had to buy my forgiveness in some way, and you know that you never have to do that.”
He shakes his head wryly. “I know that I can’t buy you, love. You are the one thing in my life that I value the most and have done the least to deserve, but I know that money isn’t what gets to the heart of you.” He looks at me seriously, no trace of a smile now on his earnest face. “Please Al, I’m going to make this right. Just trust me.”
I stare at him. “Okay,” I finally say and he steps forward drawing me back into his arms.
Pulling his face back he stares into mine. “You’ll read what I send you?” I nod and his eyes narrow. “And reply?”
I smile and nod again and he exhales in relief and then looks nervous. “Okay, one more favour.” I look at him expectantly. “Please don’t see Eddie or anyone else while I’m away. None of those blokes that drool when you walk by.”
“For a start Bram, men don’t drool over me.” He raises his eyebrow superciliously so I hurry on. “Secondly you’ve not exactly been living like a monk so why …?”
He grabs my chin that I’ve lowered as I stare at his chest unable to look at his face. “There’s been no one since you left,” he says making sure that I’ve heard him properly. He hesitates, looking embarrassed. “To be honest and I’m not proud of this, the women that I’ve had since that night of you and me have just been a way to get over you.” He sighs looking over my head and says something.
