Some Like it Hot

by Amanda Brobyn

  She read the graffiti again and again with disbelief. Who had done this? Why had they done it and why Sophie Kane? Somewhere, deep down, it made sense to Jude. A part of her believed what she read. It explained a lot about the behavioural deficits she had witnessed over the years – if it were true of course – only something told her it was.

  Karl sprinted down the concrete steps of his bedsit, racing past the ongoing flickering of the lampost which had become the bane of his life. He headed in the direction of Alderley Avenue taking every short cut possible.

  Jude had woken him this morning in a panic, muttering something about vandalism to the exterior of Sophie’s new shop. He had dressed without showering or cleaning his teeth. His initial thoughts were to race to the crime scene, hoping that Jude was overreacting in some way, only Karl knew that Jude was as calm as they came and for her to react with such a sense of urgency something very wrong must have happened.

  Karl dialled Sophie’s mobile as he sped through Congleton Parade onto Priory Way, dodging a litter bin which he nearly ran head-on into.

  He wasn’t suprised she was unhappy about being disturbed, but when he mentioned vandalism the line went dead and Karl knew that meant she was on her way. He was sure too he had heard a man’s voice in the background but Karl hoped he was imagining it. His mind told him one thing but his heart felt another.

  “I was on the verge of coming. What did you do that for?” Rafi groaned with sexual frustration.

  “There’s a problem at the shop . . . I need to see what the hell’s going on. Why Karl can’t sort it by himself is beyond me.”

  Rafi jumped from the bed before a naked Sophie, who was about to step into the shower.

  “Not so fast, young lady . . . we have unfinished business.”

  Sophie slapped his hand as he closed in on her and he deftly caught it, placing it on him and gliding her hand up and down until she had satisfied him in just a few strokes.

  “There,” she expressed blankly. “Now can I get in the shower or are there any more paid sexual favours I can do for you?”

  Rafi grabbed a handful of tissues from the mosaic-mirrored tissue box.

  “Now that you mention it . . .”

  “How does fuck off grab you?”

  As he reached the top end of Alderley Avenue he spotted Jude standing there facing the shop, not moving, and he curbed his pace, recovering from his anaerobic bolt. He was all for exercise, but sleep to sprint was a little unrehearsed and too spontaneous for his liking.

  He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, pushing his hair back from his face, aware that he hadn’t gelled it. Ordinarily he wouldn’t leave the house until he was the epitomy of high fashion with his razor-sharp image and sleek, jet-black hair, but when Jude had mentioned the words Sophie and trouble in the same sentence, Karl had lost it completely and the only thing on his mind was to protect his friend.

  As he continued on towards number seventy-six he saw the whitness of Jude’s face, her wide eyes scared and questioning and he knew the news was bad. She beckoned him with urgency, waving her hands for him to come quickly and Karl picked up his pace once more. He was by her side in a matter of seconds.

  “What the . . . ?” He too paled to the bone as he stood before the steel shutter ruined with slander.

  “What the hell is that all about?”

  “I don’t know,” Jude whispered. “What shall we do?”

  Karl immediately regretted ringing Sophie. There would be no hiding it now. If the accusation were true then something told Karl this was a secret Sophie would never, ever, have exposed of her own accord. He had assumed there was an attempted break-in or some type of criminal damage. It had never occured to him that someone might be up for incriminating his friend.

  Sophie drove a little faster than usual. She had a few minutes of time to make up as a result of her distractions with Rafi. He was so totally hot, Sophie thought, but she also recognised the signs that she’d had enough of him already. They had been together on a number of occasions now and he was getting too close and too comfortable with her and that wouldn’t do. It was almost like he felt she owed him something because he’d lost his job. “Life’s a bitch,” Sophie muttered. It wasn’t her problem. Neither was he. She made the choices and she pulled the punches. Not him. Not any man. Never.

  She cruised along in fifth gear wondering what sort of vandalism had struck her shop. Nothing ever happened in Alderley Avenue, it was one of the richest streets in the country and she had never known of any such event happening there before.

  Her heart flipped as she imagined the worst possible situation. A cast-aside lover? A rejected admirer? A spiteful stalker? They were all possibilities, but Sophie had been cunning, clever enough to charm her way back into the hearts of scorned lovers even as she dumped them and they held on to the hope that she had been nice to them . . . didn’t that mean she might come back?

  She laughed arrogantly, turning Charlotte Church up to its maximum volume as she belted out ‘I love it when you call my name . . . I love it when you call my name . . .’

  As she swayed from side to side, watching herself in the rear-view mirror to see how sexy she was while the provocative words fell from her tongue, she frowned at Karl and at his camp manerisms. He exaggerated everything. Sophie stopped singing suddenly, choosing to tut instead as she recalled the panic in his voice. He was ever the drama queen and she hated that about him. She liked men to be real men, not the overreacting, effeminate types. Still, everything else about him was perfect.

  As she absorbed the oversized graffiti which was sprayed in blood red, Sophie’s knees gave way and Karl caught her as she collapsed, scooping her up in his arms. He held her close to his chest, not knowing what to do. His reflexes had kicked in at the optimum moment but as he held his boss – his friend – in his arms, Karl knew he needed to plan the next move. He had two women relying on him and he couldn’t let either of them down.

  Sophie’s reaction had told him all he needed to know. She had confessed to its truth via her physical actions and Karl could feel the burden of Sophie’s load leave her body, pushing down on his as the weight increased in his arms. He was determined to absorb the impact of her shock.

  “Open the shutter quickly,” he ordered Jude, feeling the strain of the dead weight, naturally light as Sophie was. “The keys are in her bag.”

  Jude sank to the ground, scouring Sophie’s oversized bag for the keys. She cast aside tampons, make-up and a red leather purse bulging with cash and overhanging receipts.

  “There are loads of keys in here, Karl!” she panicked.

  Karl hoisted Sophie higher into his arms. She was easier to hold that way. She was so out for the count she couldn’t even cling on to him and his biceps trembled with exertion. He had lifted Sophie hundreds of times before, pulling her from the floor on drunken nights out, piggy-backing her when her shoes became too painful to walk in and she was light as a feather. But today, she was a heavy load which sagged in his arms.

  “That’s them . . . with the big red key-ring. Hurry up, Jude.”

  Jude’s hands shook as she forced the key into the bottom of the shutter. Its grey steel sat low to the floor just millimetres from the pavement. She slid her hands under it, yanking up the sheet, using all her strength, desperate to erase the scurrilous allegations which had been so cruelly painted with poison – thrusting them out of sight with relief.

  Jude stood back watching as the shutter curled itself into oblivion, wincing with pain. She had scraped the skin from her fingers in haste as she slid them under the steel ledge and she watched as blood rose to the surface covered in a mass of grit which she wiped away, dusting it onto the floor. If only Sophie’s problems could be wiped away so easily, she thought sadly.

  Karl kissed Sophie’s forehead as she lay lifeless in his arms. He fought back the tears, seeing the colour continue to drain from her beautiful face, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her forever, keeping her away from the
prying eyes and perverse touch of all men bar him.

  Inside, Jude scoured the room, grabbing a hard-backed plastic chair. “Here, use this.” She dragged it towards him and he sat heavily, almost falling into it, Sophie resting in his arms. He tried gently to push her upright but Sophie’s energy had dissolved and her listless body flopped forward.

  “She won’t stay up, Jude.”

  “That’s okay, Karl, better in fact . . . put her head between her legs. She’ll come around quicker . . . here, let me.”

  Jude stepped in, tilting Sophie forward, pushing down lightly on her narrow shoulders, holding her head just above her knees. She exchanged empty glances with Karl as he held her, stopping her from toppling forward. Neither of them knew what to do or what to say. They watched like concerned parents as she slowly came around, pushing up weakly against Jude’s resistance.

  “Sophie,” Jude dropped to her knees before her, “are you alright, darling?”

  Something was different about Sophie. She was afraid and exposed, unable to look them in the eye.

  “It’s okay, Sophie . . . nobody saw it but us. We’ll scrub it away and it will be gone forever.” Jude swallowed hard.

  Sophie looked like a sick child, pale and malnourished, and Jude wanted to hold her close until she was better and strong, back as the Sophie they all knew and loved. Most of them.

  “Hey, you.” Karl forced a beaming smile at his boss. “I’m going to have every last trace of those stupid words gone before you know it, so come on and pick yourself up, dust yourself down and get on with it like you always do.” He spoke in false tones. “We‘ll leave the shutter up for today and when it’s dark tonight I’ll remove every last trace of that ridiculous slander, boss.”

  “I’ll help you too, Karl,” said Jude.

  Sophie looked up at him. The luminous attitudinal blaze she was renowned for had gone and what was left was a faded shadow of her former self. She went to speak but she could find no words to say. She never thought she would see this day. She imagined her secret would go to the grave with her. She certainly hoped it would.

  “Is it true?” Jude whispered.

  For once, Jude knew there was no point skirting around the issue. She also knew the answer to her own question – Sophie’s reaction had told her that – but she needed to hear it from her friend in order for her friend to get over it. She needed to talk about it. Confess.

  Sophie nodded slowly, biting her bottom lip to stop it quivering with shame, but the tears flowed and she broke into a hysterical bawl. One which came straight from her heart, taking her breath away.

  “It’s tr–ue,” she sobbed convulsively. “I w–was so ashamed . . . I nev–er told anyone.”

  Karl and Jude exchanged wide-eyed glances, their mouths open at the admission which she had already silently confessed. But hearing the words audibly tinged with heartbroken grief hit them harder than the inaudible version which they had earlier accepted.

  “Soph–ie Kane ma–rried a fag-got!”

  “Take deep breaths, Sophie.” Jude held her hand, stroking it as Karl patted her back with tenderness.

  “Don’t speak for a minute until you feel a little more composed.”

  Jude wasn’t used to giving out the orders but she had to take control of the situation and if it meant being a little more outspoken than usual then so be it.

  Sophie did as she was told. A rarity indeed. She inhaled and exhaled as instructed, faltering with uncertainty. She had been able to deal with the past because it was locked away in a tiny part of her brain where she had chosen the most complex of combinations, thus removing the capability for speedy access.

  Making gallant attempts to compose herself, Sophie forced herself up in the chair. Her shoulders slumped back. The eye contact was still a struggle for her, but she knew she needed to offer her friends an explanation for the words they had the misfortune of reading.

  “I got – married when I was eighteen,” she hiccupped, breathing deeply before continuing her proclamation. “To a guy na–med Ricky. We worked togeth–er. It was my first job and we hit it off stra–ight away. He asked me to ma–rry him within three months of us dating and I said y–es. I loved him,” she confessed sadly but appearing calmer by the second. “I woke up on the last day of our honeymoon . . . and he was gone.” The tears flowed once more but the energy to drive them had absconded. Sophie was weak and feeble. The memories had drained her. “He left me a note to say . . . to say he was gay . . . and being with me but being the only man not to fancy me had made him realise it.” Sophie stared into the open space, talking to her invisible counsellor. “His message said that it wasn’t fair to himself . . . living a lie . . . and I’ve never seen him since,” she sobbed again, clearly heartbroken. “He w–as the love o–f my l–ife.”

  Jude followed suit with tears flowing. How could any man have done that to her? Walked away from his bride after only a matter of days?

  “Oh Sophie, I am so sorry, darling.” Jude clutched her friend, grabbing her roughly as the desire to protect her from further pain took over. She leaned into Sophie’s body, still on her knees, their shoulders pressed up against each other, cheeks touching.

  Jude held her until she felt the lifting movement of her chest normalise. She was breathing less erratically now and it was safe to let her go. She needed to look at her.

  “What about you though, Sophie?” Jude talked softly. “You’ve allowed yourself to live a lie too by holding on to the past . . . letting it shape you. It’s unimaginable what happened, but at least he accepted what he was . . . is.” She hesitated. “You haven’t . . . it seems.” Jude was aware of the alien words she spoke. She had never given her true opinion in her adult life but Sophie was desperately low and it was her turn to resurrect her friend. “It’s time to let go, Sophie, come clean. You have done nothing wrong, Sophie Kane,” Jude declared.

  “I fell in love, Jude, that’s what I did wrong.” Sophie’s tone was filled with anger and betrayal. “But I’ll never do it again. Never.”

  Karl cast his mind back to a time where Sophie’s tongue had been cruel and vicious when he had remarked on one of her many sexual encounters. ‘What? Would you prefer I took it up the bum like you, Karl?’ she had barked at him.

  Sophie had clearly protected herself by assuming his mildly effeminate ways were a clear sign of his homosexuality hence her brusque defense mechanisms. She had chosen to make assumptions that every male hairdresser was gay. Yet she could not have been further from the truth.

  Karl’s teeth ground together as an indomitable force rippled through him. He would have to prove her wrong.

  James fell to his knees in the box-sized hall, dropping the phone which bounced once before lying still face up. He ignored the voice which called out to him repeatedly.

  “James . . . James . . . are you there? Talk to me, Jim, please. I’m only reading what I’ve been asked to read. I’m so sorry . . . so, so sorry.”

  He gasped for breath, struggling to come to terms with what he had just heard. Struggling moreso with the cruel blow he had been dealt. A blow which was planned, premeditated and executed to the nth degree, exactly how she would have wanted it. She had got her way in the end.

  ‘I don’t know how to tell you this, James,’ his sister had announced with trepidation, ‘but we’ve just discovered that Mum left a will . . . instructing that you are . . . erm . . . banned from her funeral.’

  Banned? From his own mother’s funeral? For what reason? What had he done which was so wrong that his own mother had kept the fire of wrath burning for twenty-five years? Was love a crime?

  Tears streamed down his face and the walls closed in around him and his vision blurred with shock. He was going to pay his respects, say goodbye and finally put closure on the wound which had lain open and exposed for so long but one which he had managed to keep bandaged and covered with his wife as his nurse. But even on her death-bed it was obvious that the blazing bitterness carried a strong abrasive
flame which would burn for infinity and her death almost seemed irrelevant as his wound ached with the salt which was rubbed into it with a heavy hand. The incision became deeper as his sister’s words echoed in his ear. He was torn apart.

  Kath tried to push open the front door with one hand, using the other to close the porch door behind her. The porch was a tiny space, like the rest of the house but it served its purpose fully. It kept out the draught and gave a home to wet shoes and dirty boots which were not allowed on the lightly coloured carpets.

  Struggling to open it, she peered through the frosted glass, eyeing the guilty figure who was clearly blocking her entrance.

  “Jim!” she called through the inch-sized gap which she had just about managed to open with brute force. “I know I’m thin, love, but I’m not bloody emaciated. Get out of the way, I can’t get the door open.”

  James shuffled forward on his knees. He was too weak to stand. His eyes stung with the double dose of salt which stained his ageing cheeks as they rolled down the creases of his permanent laughter lines.

  Kath popped her cheery head around the door, catching sight of his tormented face.

  “What’s wrong?” she cried with alarm, joining him on the recently hoovered carpet, inhaling the scent of air-freshener which she hoped was CFC friendly. It would be if he had used the one which she’d bought, but sometimes James popped to the shops alone bringing products back crammed with chemicals and tested on animals. He would never learn. “Jim?” Kath was shocked at the transformation. He was fine when she had left for work earlier that morning. What could have happened since then that was worse than the death of his own mother? “Talk to me, please. Why are you crying, love?” She stroked his face noticing how the bags beneath his eyes had sagged with lack of sleep. Even she was suprised at how badly he had taken the news especially as he had got through life with such fortitude. His tribulations had been invisible to all who met him and he was a strong, stable, family man who, to outsiders, carried no insecurities from his past. Between them, they had managed to play a good game.