by Stone, Holly
In the end I called Jess to see if I could get to the bottom of what she had wanted to talk about but when she answered, her ‘hello’ was whispered and I knew I would have to catch her another time. Goodness knows where she was or who she was with. Sometimes I forgot to ask because her escapades had become so routine, and she was never with anyone for long.
I left the flat at 11am and headed home, knowing dad would have put the meat in the oven, but would be expecting me to peel any veg. I could hear music from outside so Danny was definitely home, probably not doing anything to help out. My baby sister still made the most of the allowances that her position in the family afforded her. I turned my key in the lock and called out a weary sounding “hello”.
“Hey, Amy,” Danny called, poking her head around the door of the kitchen and grinning at me, looking like a little pixie with her recent hairstyle change and bottle green dress. She grew more like our mum in appearance with every year that passed. Her smile faltered a little. “Is everything okay? You look like shit!”
“Thanks, Dan,” I said with a weak smile. “I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Were you out?”
“No, just got a lot on my mind.”
“Oooo…man trouble?” Dan said with glee. Dating conversations were her favourite.
“Nah. Work trouble.”
“What’s that?” my dad called from the top of the stairs. “What’s going on at work?”
I took a deep breath, still undecided on how to best approach telling him what had happened.
“Can I make myself a cup of tea and then we can talk?”
Dad frowned and continued to walk towards me. He looked smarter than I was expecting for a family lunch, dressed in trousers and a pressed shirt that I knew he kept for good. He’d done something new with his hair too. More gel, maybe. It made him seem younger. “Walk and talk,” he said as we all started back into the kitchen.
“There was some trouble at the shop.” I said, hoping that leading in gently would prevent a melt-down.
“What kind of trouble?” His grey eyes narrowed.
“I was robbed at closing time.”
“What? Yesterday? Why the hell didn’t you call me?” he bellowed.
“It was late. I called the police and they took statements. It didn’t seem worth it.”
“How much did they get?”
I shook my head, reaching to fill the kettle so I didn’t have to look at his face and he wouldn’t have to see my reaction. Money first, just as I’d predicted. Still, it stung to have it confirmed.
“Most of the takings for the day.”
He groaned behind me and swore under his breath.
“Aren’t you going to ask me if I am okay?”
Dad ran his eyes over me. “You look alright…they didn’t do anything to hurt you, did they?”
“Not really, but you still should have asked.”
“You should have called me about this last night. Why the fuck am I the last to know about what’s going on in my own business?”
I gritted my teeth. I’d known this would be my dad’s reaction. He was a hot-head who reacted to things first then thought about them later. He was terrible at apologising too, so over the years I’d hardened to his responses, grown to expect less and less.
“Dad, I manage that shop. I handled it. It was late and I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. I had a friend with me who helped me out. I’m telling you about it now, okay?”
“What friend?” he snapped. I made an angry noise.
“No one you know.”
“You should have called me, Amy.”
“Yeah, and you should have asked about my wellbeing before the money, but there you go. We can’t always get what we want.”
Dad’s whole face went red and his shoulders crept up; he looked like an angry bull. This wasn’t good, but I was so fucking worn out and angry and fed up and dejected.
“Don’t you backchat me, young lady. Don’t you question me…after all I have done for you and your sister!”
Fuck. He was going there now. I just couldn’t take it today; frayed nerves and too little sleep left me with no patience for his shit.
“After all you have done,” I shouted back. “What about ‘after all I have done’? I’ve cooked and cleaned, run your errands, run your business…no questions asked. I stepped into her shoes and never got a chance to walk in my own, so don’t give me this guilt trip, Dad. Don’t go there, okay?”
“Come on guys, just take a deep breath,” Dan said quietly from the corner of the room. I knew she hated it when things in the family weren’t all sweetness and light. She was sugar and spice and all things nice. I felt like I was made of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, just like in the rhyme.
“You know what?” I said, backing towards the door. “I can’t take this today. I just can’t.” I turned and walked out into the hall.
“Don’t you walk away from me, Amy,” my dad growled from behind, but for once his anger and disapproval didn’t sway me. I had to get away before I drowned in my family and all the responsibility and expectations.
I couldn’t breathe.
JACK
That day I felt like shit for so many reasons. I must have cursed myself for being so stupid a million times since I'd left Amy’s room the night before. Being a friend, a shoulder to cry on, was one thing, but therapeutic oral sex was a whole other area, one that I definitely shouldn’t have ventured into. Yes, she’d asked for it, and yes, I’d wanted in her so badly my cock felt bruised, but that was no excuse. I’d fucked things up and I didn’t know how to fix it. My explanation hadn’t been accepted, her feelings were hurt and that was the opposite of what I’d intended. In the heat of the moment I just couldn’t go through with it.
Who the fuck was I to try to get with Amy anyway? She was so far out of my league we weren’t even playing the same sport, and if I’d done what my body was pushing for me to do, I knew she would regret it. I didn’t want to be an embarrassing mistake in her past, the desperate teenager who wanted to get laid so badly he took advantage of her at her most vulnerable moment. Amy thought she knew what she wanted but I didn’t really believe that in the cold light of day she would choose me.
If staying at her flat had been awkward before, it had moved into intolerable territory now. Amy hadn’t even looked at me when I said goodbye. I knew I had to find somewhere else to go before night set in. Amy had enough going on in her life without me being an unwelcome burden.
At work, my colleagues were asking questions about why I’d changed my shift patterns. A couple of the women who worked the tills knew my mum, and I could see in their eyes that they knew what was going on. I didn’t want to hear excuses for her behaviour or listen to pitying words, so I avoided them as much as I could. A man has to have some pride after all.
Halfway through my shift I found a moment to pop into Stan’s office again. He seemed happy to see me, which was good, but then again it could have just been the doughnut he was eating that had cheered him up. Either way, I swallowed my pride and told him what was going on. After I explained my predicament he looked thoughtful.
“Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? Where have you been sleeping?”
“Someone I know put me up but I can’t stay there again tonight. Look, I’m sorry to lay this on you but I don’t know what else to do.”
“Don’t worry about all that,” Stan said, waving his free hand dismissively. “I think I have an idea. I have this annex, see, next to my house. It used to be a double garage but the people who owned the property before me turned it into an artist’s studio.” He said ‘artist’s studio’ as though the concept of such a thing was beyond ridiculous, took a bite of the doughnut, and then carried on speaking and chewing at the same time. “It’s rough; I haven’t been in there for a while so it will need a good clean up, but you are welcome to crash there. It has a shower room and a little kitchenette. I’ve got a mattress you could use – we could take some
pallets from the loading bay to rest it on. There’s no cooking facilities, just somewhere to wash up, so you’ll need a microwave and kettle. You could try that charity shop in town, the one that helps young people out. They might have some odd bits of furniture too. What do you think?”
I didn’t know what to say. Stan’s offer was way more than I’d expected.
“I can rent it from you,” I said, “I don’t want to be a charity case.”
Stan grinned at me. “You’ll be doing me a favour, boy, keeping it tidy. But if you’d feel better then you can pay enough to keep me in weekend takeaways. How about that?”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling like the weight of the world was being lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t care what the place was like, just that I had some stability in my life and I could get out of Amy’s hair. “Thanks so much. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Hey, I’m happy to help you out, Jack. You’re a good kid.”
“Kid!” I said indignantly, rubbing my hand across my stubbly jaw, and he laughed.
“What time do you finish tonight?” Stan asked.
“6pm.”
“Okay, when you’re done we’ll grab those pallets and some cleaning stuff and head over there.”
“Okay. I’d better get back,” I said, not wanting to overstay my welcome. “Thanks again.”
I had an hour to go until my lunch break, which would provide just about enough time to go back to Amy’s to collect my things. I was hoping that I wouldn’t run into her. I could leave her key on the kitchen counter with a note to say thank you. It would be easier that way, for both of us.
AMY
I didn’t go home after the argument with my dad because I didn’t want to go back to the feelings I’d been wrestling with that morning, and I needed to be with people. I called my friend Bobby, hoping she would be chilling at home with her kids and fancy some company too. Sammy and Sophie were a handful, but playing dolls with some six-year-olds was just what I needed to forget about the woes of my life. When Bobby answered, her voice sounded stressed, but then that wasn’t unusual. Raising two kids without much support could do that to a person. I understood that.
“You okay, Bobs?” I asked, and she was quiet for a while.
“Have you spoken to Jess today?” she asked.
“Yeah, but she was otherwise engaged.” I laughed but Bobby didn’t join in.
“Look, Amy, I can’t talk right now. The kids are doing my head in. Give Jess a call, okay.”
I looked at my phone, a bit taken aback by her tone. We had been friends since I could remember and she was rarely offish with me. Bobby had an easy-going personality and didn’t take out her tiredness or stress on others. If anything, she was too caring.
“Do you need some time to yourself?” I asked, thinking I could take the kids to the park for her if she was feeling that fraught.
“I’m okay, Amy. Thanks though. Look I’d better go. I’ve got some stuff to do.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll speak to you soon, Bobs,” I said feeling well and truly brushed off.
“Bye, Amy,” she said, and then the phone disconnected. I sat mulling over the conversation, wondering if I’d done something that could have caused her to be angry with me, but came up with nothing. I was worried. Maybe something had happened to Bobby and she was being like me, holding it all in, unwilling to share her problems because once they are out in the open there’s no taking them back. I considered calling her back but it didn’t feel right. I considered whether she might have had an argument with Jess. We’d been a trio for so long, but I was the glue that held us all together. Bobby was the responsible one; when we were young it was because her mum’s excessive weight and associated health problems meant she needed lots of help, but now Bobby had to be for the kids. Jess was still a kid herself in the way she acted with no regard for others, always seeking her own satisfaction, chasing the highs, burdening her friends with the lows. I think those differences caused friction between them but they generally rubbed along okay.
Bobby had told me to call Jess. It could have been simply that she was busy. I frowned at my phone and tried Jess’s number. It rang three times before she picked up.
“Hey, Amy,” Jess answered, partially drowned out by pub-noise in the background, sounding slightly slurry around the edges. When I suggested I would come and meet her she hesitated for a moment and I got a strange, uneasy feeling, then she gushed that I should and that she would get me a drink and we could have lunch. She didn’t ask me about what had happened the night before and didn’t mention any kind of argument with Bobby.
On the drive to the Five Bells I had a bad feeling, but I tried to tell myself it was just residue from the robbery and the argument at home. At the pub, Jess was propping up the bar, laughing and joking with the barman, an old fling of hers who was way too old and way too dirty. I wondered what kind of friend I was to not take her aside and get her to question the lifestyle she was leading. The last thing I wanted for her was the reputation she already had. It was unfair that men could be dogs, shag anything that moved and be called a lad, but when girls did the same they became washed up old slags. I wanted happiness for my bubbly friend, someone to see her enough that they would know what to do to help her. I didn’t understand how men could have no conscience about taking advantage of someone who was hurting and vulnerable. Maybe they just pretended not to see.
“Amy, Amy, Amy,” she called across the bar. “Come and tell Steve what you’re drinking.”
Steve leered, his grin revealing many nicotine-stained teeth and a gap where he had lost one. Ugh.
“I’ll have half a lager shandy,” I said, feeling thirsty. Somehow hard alcohol had lost some of its appeal since Jack scorned it the night before, and it was Sunday lunchtime and I wasn’t the kind to be staggering around in public during daylight hours.
“And we’ll have two roast dinners, please,” Jess slurred, taking a hold of my hand and leading me to a table in the corner. She teetered slightly on her heels and I got a flash of her back where her jeans were riding low. The pink lace thong-top that she was flashing made me want to cry. “So, my lovely, to what do I owe this pleasure? I thought you were going around your dad's today.”
I sighed and pushed my hands through my hair, then leaned my elbows onto the dark brown wooden tabletop and groaned. “I did, but we had a row. My life is so shit right now. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
“What did you row about?” Jess asked, and I caught something in her expression that made me feel uneasy, a flash of guilt in her eyes that made the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
“About the robbery last night. Because I didn’t call him to tell him immediately. Because he has to be in control of everything.”
“Oh,” Jess said, looking relieved. She fiddled with her chipped nail polish. “You know you’re lucky you have a dad who cares about you, Amy. Not one like mine who fucks off at the first sign of responsibility.”
I sighed again, feeling guilty for moaning when I knew this was Jess’s sorest subject.
“I know, Jess. Don’t forget my mum did the same thing. I’m not saying I don’t love him or that I’m not grateful for him but I...I think I just need some space. To be honest I don’t think I can take running that fish and chip shop anymore. It’s strangling me. His expectations are strangling me.”
“He’s only like that cos he loves you,” she said.
“Maybe. But I’m not his wife. I don’t mind helping out, but I don’t feel twenty-three, Jess, I feel forty-three. You know I’ve been sorting out the bills at home for ten years, running his errands, making sure Dan’s okay. I feel like time is slipping through my fingers and I don’t know who I am without all the responsibility weighing me down. Who would I be if I didn’t have to deal with all this shit. I can’t imagine what my life would be like if my mum hadn’t left and I had a chance to choose my own path, be silly, and make mistakes. I feel like I hung up my youth the day I left school and it�
��s moulding away in a cupboard somewhere.”
Jess looked at me like I was a little bit mad and maybe I was. I had all these feelings I didn’t know what to do with, two voices in my head warring over what was right. I thought about Jack who had nothing right now; no family, nowhere to live, no friends who he felt close enough with to ask for help, and here I was moaning about things that I knew so many people would push me under a bus for. But my heart was sad. That I knew. It ached for what it wanted and it was getting harder to ignore it.
I looked around the pub as Jess got up to get our drinks from the bar. There were a couple of lads who had been in the year below me at school playing pool and another on the fruit machine in the corner. In a small town, people stuck together, stayed friends for life if they didn’t seize the chance to move away. The tallest, who had just taken his shot, looked over at me and smiled. I think his name was Roy and I vaguely remembered him sending me a Valentines card one year, both thrilling and mortifying as he was cute as hell but younger than me, and that just wasn’t cool at school. I thought of Jack, five years my junior. That was a big difference at our age but it hadn’t felt wrong to be with him. Thinking about his dark eyes looking into mine and his big fingers opening me up made my cheeks heat. He seemed so much older than he was, carried too much sadness and caution for an eighteen-year-old. I wondered if he craved an escape like I did, to run from this town and find a place in the world that was bigger and freer and held fewer sad memories.
“Who are you looking at?” Jess said, when she returned. “Oooh…I know who. ‘Roy the Big Boy,’” she said, indicating about nine inches with her hands.
