by Erin Green
‘You did use condoms when you… spent the night with Jonah?’
Esmé frowned. What a question to ask!
‘Excuse me.’
‘If you didn’t then you should have told them… you run the risk of…’
‘Asa! Please!’
She was quite aware of Jonah’s habits. The Crystal scenario on her first morning at Montague Road wasn’t erased from her memory. She’d been honest, they’d used condoms and she’d filled out the appropriate forms with the truth and the best of intentions.
But yeah, she’d donated. Someone, somewhere, would be helped in the next two weeks thanks to a tacky cardboard calendar which sat battered and torn on her mantelpiece upstairs.
‘What is that?’ asked Asa, picking the remnant of navy knitting from the floor in the dining room.
‘Don’t start, I’ve just about had enough!’ said Esmé, her temper frayed, looking up from her knitting machine. ‘That is all I have to show for eight hours of work!’
‘It’s a beanie hat,’ exclaimed Asa, forcing it onto his head.
‘And it’s crap! Look how badly I’ve sewn the edges?’ Esmé was conscious of the last time they’d spoken.
‘Maybe, but it’s still a beanie… are you chucking it?’
‘Yes, along with the other two I made over there.’
‘Where?’
‘Under the table and by the fire place… I threw them there when I got annoyed earlier.’
‘Nice.’ Asa scrambled on all fours and retrieved the items. ‘Can I have them?’
‘You can do as you like, I’ve had enough.’
‘Self-employed work not suiting you then?’
‘Ha bloody ha.’
‘Seriously, I’m interested and asking…’
‘First thing tomorrow, I might phone up Steely Stylo and beg for my job back,’ Esmé held her hand to her ear like an imaginary phone. ‘Hello Mrs Stylo, can I come and kiss your ass? We’ll pretend that this never happened. Yes, of course I’ll take yesterday as a day’s holiday in lieu of wages… of course, I will admit I’m a total failure and yes, of course I shall never ask for another pay rise for as long as I live. Yes, I will work every holiday shift, fetch and carry like a skivvy if you agree to take me back. Good day!’
‘That good, hey?’
‘Unless you have serious advice for a delusional woman, I suggest you leave.’
‘None, except for putting an advert in the newsagent’s window to advertise your sewing skills.’
‘Thanks…’ said Esmé, unsure why he was now lingering. ‘Please go!’
‘As long as I can have these?’
‘Yes, take, take, take… just go!’
Esmé watched the door close.
*
‘Goodnight.’ Asa peeled himself from the sofa and headed for the lounge door.
‘Are you not going to talk about last night?’ she asked meekly, looking up from her reading book.
He turned, having partly opened the door.
‘I wasn’t going to, except for the safe sex and blood donation issue mentioned earlier. I’d imagined it wasn’t any of my business and that you and Jonah would do as you please… which I believe you did.’
‘Asa?’
‘What?’
‘You sat on the landing… waiting for me to come back to my room.’
‘Did I?’ He stared at her.
‘You know you did, don’t play games, please.’
‘Was I there for five minutes or two hours?’
‘I don’t know but either way you felt the need to do that… why?’
He shrugged.
‘I arrived home from work and noticed your bedroom door was slightly ajar – I instantly knew where you were.’ He paused. ‘Maybe I was concerned for your welfare.’
Esmé shifted in her seat.
‘I’m a big girl… who can look after herself.’
‘Can you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Or are you trying your hardest to swing with the cool kids to destroy the meek and geek persona?’ His manner was so different from earlier.
‘You are such an arse!’
Asa’s nostrils flared. He left the doorway, dropped to his haunches at the side of her armchair. His face level with hers, his flesh highlighted by the dimmed table lamp.
‘So, tell me, has he spoken to you since?’
Esmé looked away, unnerved by his tone.
‘Has he?’
Esmé shook her head.
‘Precisely. In my book, he should have. Even it was a simply a bit of fun… for you both.’
‘Maybe I don’t want him to.’
Asa grimaced.
‘Don’t try that one on me, I know what I know.’
‘Not always.’
‘I know how it feels to have others not respond as you’d wish.’ Esmé watched his eyes flicker about her features before he continued. ‘But I’ll be true to myself, don’t ever lie to yourself, Esmé – there’s really no point.’
Asa stood tall, looking down on her.
‘So, make it happen,’ she said. ‘You can have what you want, if you’re honest.’
‘That easy, is it? I think not.’
‘But Asa, you said…’
‘Goodnight Esmé.’
In two strides, he was gone and the lounge door softly closed.
*
Esmé finished her day of beanie making just after ten o’clock. It felt like a wasted day. She’d have earned a day’s wage at Stylos simply sat at a desk shuffling invoices.
An early night to bed, tomorrow’s a new day.
As she drew the curtain, Esmé peered at the dusky shadows along the garden’s back fence.
Someone was out there.
She doused the light and drew the curtain aside. It was difficult to make out but every now and then a movement of a hand or a head caught the glimmer of light.
Esmé counted the housemates. Dam was at his parent’s, Asa was now at work – so, Jonah or Russ? Or Andrew, again. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she could see the outline of two people, facing each other.
I could stay here and spy or investigate.
Within seconds, Esmé was edging along the side of the house, sneaking around the corner to linger amongst the shadows by the shed. Above was a beautiful crescent moon in a clear night sky.
‘I wouldn’t know… it’s not like we talk about you,’ said a female voice.
‘But surely you can guess,’ said a male, adding. ‘I don’t want to ruin this.’
Russ? No. Jonah? Nothing like him. Dam? Yes, it was Dam!
‘We won’t but I can’t keep pretending… it’s not fair. I hate keeping secrets from her. She’s had a hard time and earlier today she asked to meet up – I felt awful refusing her,’ replied the female.
Carys!
Esmé thought back to the Ivy Bush – they’d talked all night. Carys had asked her questions when they went to the cinema with Jenny. How could she spoil their secret? But how could Carys not have told her before now?
Then the sound of kissing could be heard. Esmé looked around the side of the shed to glimpse Carys and Dam entwined.
She was pleased for them both, delighted that they’d found each other. Carys deserved some happiness after her recent dating disasters. Spying on them felt icky.
Esmé left and returned to the house.
*
Esmé couldn’t wait any longer, she called Carys just after eleven o’clock.
‘Hi Carys, thought I’d let you know how I was getting on.’ Esmé kept talking, hoping that Carys wouldn’t make an excuse to end the call.
‘I was just thinking about you,’ said Carys. ‘So, how are tricks with The Single Girl’s Calendar?’
It took Esmé ten minutes to summarise the past few days and the related tasks but she was too eager to hear of Carys’s news, if she was willing to share.
‘And you?’
‘Nothing much happening at this end,’ said C
arys.
‘Did you give Dam any more thought after we chatted?’ Esmé held her breath. Would she spill the beans?
‘Not really, he seemed really nice but it could be complicated with his family and his time… I’m not sure I’m ready for something so complicated.’
Why wouldn’t she share?
‘Esmé, are you still there?’ asked Carys.
‘Yes, of course, just tired, that’s all. Are you free any time this coming weekend?’
‘Hmmm not sure, I’ll have to get back to you.’
Esmé mouth fell open. She had a good mind to blurt out the details and let Carys know she was fooling no one. But why spoil their fun if she and Dam weren’t ready to tell? Esmé couldn’t focus on the conversation so within minutes had said her goodbyes and hung up.
‘So far today, that’s two secrets I’ve discovered purely by accident… let’s hope they come in threes like bad luck,’ she muttered.
Before she turned in for the night, Esmé straightened the line of daily tasks upon her mantelpiece purely to check there wasn’t a ‘keep a secret’ task. Sadly, there wasn’t but if there had been she’d have completed it with flying colours.
Chapter Thirty-four
Day 23: Embrace your inner spirit
‘Can you sew anything?’
Esmé glanced up from her sewing to view Asa through the machine’s archway. A swathe of mauve curtain material draped from the machine across the table onto the floor. Esmé’s current project was to accessorise her bedroom with lined drapes, complete with pencil pleat gathers and a button detail, to hone her skills.
‘Practically anything, why?’
‘Just asking?’ he said, pulling out the chair opposite and settling down with his coffee. ‘Carry on, don’t let me stop you.’
‘If you’re about to ask me to fix the hems of your jeans or a torn shirt – please don’t… I have enough to do without being the house seamstress.’
Asa drank his coffee and carried on watching.
Esmé continued her work and the swathe of fabric glided beneath the machine’s foot, her fingers swiftly feeding and securing the gathers into place.
‘Would you be interested in making more beanies?’
Esmé took her foot off the pedal.
‘What?’
‘The beanie hats… would you consider making more?’
‘They were on the knitting machine not this one…’
‘I know… are you?’
‘Who for?’
‘Friends.’
Esmé stared as he sipped his coffee.
‘How much?’ she asked.
‘Cheap… but as many as you can make.’
Esmé sat back. She’d bought the cones of wool already so it saved them from being wasted.
‘When by?’
‘No deadline, whenever you have the time.’
‘Did you sell the other beanies then?’
‘Nah, I gave them away… but the guys loved them. That’s why I’m asking.’
‘OK.’
Asa stood up, returned the chair beneath the table and snatched up his coffee mug.
‘Cheers for that, I know you’re busy.’
Esmé nodded as her foot brought the sewing machine back to life, Asa stood and stared.
‘Anything else?’ she asked, silencing the machine.
‘Are you doing anything tonight?’ he asked, passing the mug from hand to hand.
‘I’ve just taken an order for beanie hats sooooo.’
‘Ahhh, as I suspected, yet another thrilling Friday night in store for poor Cinders.’
‘Shut up,’ said Esmé, and repositioned her fabric.
‘I’ve got a spare ticket for a concert, if you fancy going.’
‘Tonight?’
‘Yeah tonight, at The Symphony Hall.’
Was he for real?
‘OK, if you’re happy for me to tag along.’
‘Quick then, go grab a coat… we need to leave.’
‘But I need to change if I’m going out…’ said Esmé, checking the time.
‘No, you don’t! You look fine, come on.’
Esmé unplugged the sewing machine as Asa grabbed her coat from the peg and threw it in her direction.
‘Oy, you’re so bossy! Why the race?’
‘Because we’re cutting it fine.’
*
A taxi dash into the city and a quick march across Broad Street found Esmé short of breath and suffering shin splints by the time they entered The Symphony Hall.
‘Asa, slow down, will you?’
‘Come on, keep up.’
Asa tugged at her coat sleeve to guide her through the warmth of the large foyer crammed with the hustle of bodies and noise.
‘Who are we seeing?’
‘Beth Hart.’
‘Who?’ Esmé pulled a face.
‘Beth Hart… oh, you don’t know who Beth Hart is?’
‘Hey, I don’t hang in your circles!’
‘My circles? Bloody hell, Esmé… you need an education in life.’
‘Oy, there’s nothing wrong with my life, thank you.’
‘And your plans for Friday night were… sewing. Yeah right, there’s nothing wrong with your life!’
Esmé snatched her coat sleeve from his clutches.
Asa flipped a look in her direction, sensing her annoyance.
Esmé stood watching him from the foyer.
Asa was halfway up the first flight of stairs before he turned to see if she was following.
‘If you want to go home, just say… I’ll get you a taxi and you can head back to your sewing, otherwise change your face and come on, or we’ll miss the support act.’
Esmé watched the crowd jostle past him as he beckoned to her over the chrome banister.
‘Please?’ His voice had softened. ‘I think you’ll love it.’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? He dashed from place to place, came up with crazy plans off the top of his head and thought it was normal behaviour. His energy was totally wrong, all up and down with nothing in between.
‘Honestly, she’s got a great voice…’
Esmé trotted up the staircase to Asa where his smile greeted her.
*
Esmé had never been inside the auditorium before, so allowed Asa to lead the way, directing her to their seats. He looked out of place in the refined interior of carved plaster and pillars.
‘Wow, this is beautiful!’ Esmé peered over the balcony at row upon row of identical seats filling the vast area below.
‘Stunning design… have you never been here before?’
Esmé shook her head.
‘See what I mean? Raised in Birmingham and yet…’ he spread his hands wide indicating surprise, as he settled in his seat. She suppressed her irritation, the guy was right. So why did it irk her so much?
The stage set was in darkness, apart from a single strobe light which illuminated instruments and a microphone, Esmé couldn’t sit back but looked around drinking in every detail like a child at the zoo.
Several times she caught Asa watching her.
‘What?’
‘You. You’re looking around almost frantically – frightened of missing anything.’
‘Look, I’ve only ever walked past here and nipped in once to use the ladies’ toilets… sit back and be grateful that I didn’t go home.’
Within minutes the support act of Colin James and his guitar partner entered and the stage came alive. The duo played their guitars like she’d never seen them played before. She couldn’t help but tap her feet and bounced her hand against her thigh. Beside her, Asa sat with a smile on his face.
In no time the support act were finished and the audience clapped nosily before the lights came back up. Asa stood up from his seat.
‘Drink?’
Trying to cover her surprise, Esmé agreed.
‘I’ll buy,’ she said.
‘Nope, tonight was my shout so I’ll get these. What do
you want? Wine?’
‘A lager perhaps.’
‘Which one?’
Esmé shrugged, she couldn’t name a lager if her life depended upon it.
Asa laughed.
‘Fair enough, I’ll get you the same as me.’
Once he’d gone Esmé named all the lager adverts she knew: Kronenbourg, Budweiser, Heineken, Carlsberg, Fosters. The adverts filled her head until he returned.
‘Here.’ The plastic pint pot was thrust before her.
‘What is it?’
‘Heineken… that’s all they had.’
‘Cheers.’
Asa sat down, drink in hand and shook his head.
‘What are you laughing at?’
‘A minute ago you hadn’t a clue, but suddenly you’re an expert wanting to know what you’re drinking… you make me laugh!’
‘I can name lagers.’
‘Go on then.’
Esmé listed all she could.
Asa sipped his lager nodding as she named each one.
‘Very good, but it doesn’t count if you had to sit here in the dark recalling every one yet couldn’t answer my question when I asked what you wanted.’
‘I… I… never.’
‘It’s OK not to know stuff you know.’
‘So why do I always feel stupid when you ask me a question and I don’t know the answer?’
‘Who knows? I don’t.’
Esmé turned away and sipped her lager.
‘Does it taste like Heineken?’ he asked, leaning over to her.
‘Hmmm yeah, thanks.’
‘No prob… but it shouldn’t… it’s Carlsberg!’
Esmé spluttered and stared at him.
‘Argggh!’ she retorted, as Asa settled back in his seat, his shoulders shuddering as he sniggered.
Suddenly, the auditorium lights faded to black as a powerful female voice cut through the darkness.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Esmé and Asa simultaneously leant forward to view the stage but the direction of the voice played with their senses. A single spot light picked out the singer as she walked along the side aisles amongst the crowd, who jumped up, thrilled to be so close to her. Esmé watched as the barefoot singer, in a slinky tight fitting dress, slowly made her way through the crowd, hugging, dancing and receiving kisses as she sang. On reaching the front, she climbed up and took centre stage.
