by Erin Green
‘He dumped me to chase other women.’
Asa burst out laughing, a manic tone that filled the air.
‘He’s a bit of a git, really.’
‘Just a bit? I’d say a first class git,’ chuckled Asa. ‘So?’
‘So what?’
‘You still interested in him?’
Esmé pulled in her chin and wrapped her arms around herself.
‘I was never…’
‘Sod off, you were gagging for him since the day you moved in… and you haven’t taken your eyes off him since the night you and he… well… and he knows it.’
‘He left me holding his drink… and was half an hour late returning to the limo’s collection point. He said two o’clock but then failed to make it. I had to beg the driver to stay and wait for him.’
‘Seriously?’ Asa took a final drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out on the brickwork. ‘What a man.’
Esmé watched as Asa pulled a pack of smokes from his jeans pocket and struck a match off the brickwork.
‘Is that necessary?’
‘It’s all necessary tonight, Esmé,’ he muttered, lighting the cigarette between words.
‘Why? Give me one good reason.’
Asa leant his bare shoulders against the brickwork, withdrew the cigarette from his lips and pinched something away off his tongue. He stared up at her, his eyes tracing every inch of her face before speaking.
‘Stig died today.’ His eyes remain fixed on hers, drinking in the reaction.
‘No!’ Tears sprung to her eyes.
‘Yep, this afternoon.’
‘Oh Asa… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say… you cared for him and were so close… and he admired you…’ her words faded. ‘Is there anything I can get you?’
Asa held up the cigarette and the bottle.
‘I have everything I need, thanks.’
‘Asa, that’s not right.’ Esmé began to wipe at her eyes.
‘Why?’
Esmé dropped her head to the side and watched him. A sadness surrounded his every move.
‘Don’t give me that head tilt.’
‘I’m not, this is not the answer.’
Asa pouted.
‘Actually, it works every other time, Esmé.’ Asa took a deep swig from the bottle, his Adam’s apple dancing in his throat, then he held it out to Esmé.
Esmé simply stared at the offering.
‘Either join me, or sod off… but don’t lecture me on how to deal with this… hurt… that’s sitting right there.’ He prods hard at his chest with the bottle. ‘Your choice.’
Seconds passed but it felt like an eternity.
Esmé had drunk enough tonight. Far more than she usually drank. She also hated whisky.
The bottle hung in the space between them.
‘OK, I’ll have a drink but not out of the bottle.’
‘You wuss! Live a little… you might be dead tomorrow.’
In annoyance, Esmé snatched the bottle, wiped the neck clean, which made Asa smile, before placing it to her lips. She took a big swig. His dark eyes fixed on her features, drinking in every move. Esmé handed the bottle back, coughed, spluttered and pulled an expression of disgust.
‘That’s vile.’
‘It’s good!’ groaned Asa, leaning against the wall. ‘Do you want me to fetch you a diet coke?’
‘Would you do that?’
‘Yeah, you seem unsure of whisky.’
That’s more than Jonah would do for a girl.
‘Thanks, but I’ll share your whisky.’
Esmé bent down, wiped the block paving with her hand before she eased herself down to settle beside him.
‘You’ll ruin your dress,’ he murmured.
‘Jonah’s ruined it anyway, then claimed it wasn’t him. Everyone kept staring at my legs for the rest of the night.’
‘You’ve got decent legs, be proud of ‘um.’
Esmé pulled a face.
‘I saw them naked, remember.’
‘Not quite, a bundle of clothes just covered my modesty.’
‘Nearly naked then,’ laughed Asa.
They sat in silence as a gentle breeze began to blow.
‘Were you there?’
‘Yep, with his parents and older brother.’
‘Did he know it was happening?’
Asa turned towards her, his head resting on the brickwork.
‘Was that a stupid question?’ she asked, when he didn’t answer.
‘Pretty much. He battled and fought it the best he could but yeah, he knew,’ he whispered, ‘He wasn’t frightened… if that’s what you meant.’
Esmé nodded. It probably was what she’d meant.
‘To you, young Stig, one in a million.’ Asa held the bottle aloft towards the stars.
Silence descended.
‘I couldn’t do your job,’ said Esmé, as a second wave of tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘You could, it’s all about being a human being and caring for people.’
‘But the hurt and pain when… this happens – I’d get too close, and then they’d die.’
‘But that’s life, we all die. And yeah, it hurts, I feel sad that he lost his battle but I have a head full of memories. I know I helped him be a normal young man, we chatted about lads’ stuff, we joked, we shared and… now, he’s gone.’
Esmé began to sob uncontrollably.
‘Sorry, I’ve upset you now… maybe it wasn’t a good idea to join me.’
‘No, I want to. Listening to you talk, you make it sound so beautiful, so… I don’t know what the word is?’
‘A privilege.’
‘Yes, a privilege!’
‘But that’s what it is… to support someone at their end… my job is a privileged one. They’ve taught me so much over the years.’ The bottle rocked up and down before he continued. ‘And now, he’s not suffering, he’s up there skateboarding like he wished – we have to let him go.’
Esmé pulled a layer of cerise dress fabric to her face and wiped her eyes.
‘That dress will be fit for nothing after tonight,’ laughed Asa, watching her.
‘I don’t care…’
‘That’s the attitude… don’t focus on the material stuff, focus on living.’
‘They’ve shown you that?’
Asa smiled.
‘You live the life you want, don’t you?’
‘Losing my mother taught me to do that.’
Esmé stared at his side profile, the tattoo glared back at her.
‘I can see that… but still I just have to ask. Why did you have that done?’
‘Nosey aren’t yeah?’ he laughed.
‘Suppose, but you’re a good looking bloke… then you have that and ruin…’
‘Ruin?’ he interrupted.
‘Yeah, ruin your face.’
Asa turned to her; their faces a shoulders width apart.
‘Would it make a difference to you if it wasn’t there?’ he asked, his voice as serious as she’d ever heard.
‘I shouldn’t say this but…’
‘You don’t have to explain.’
She playfully snatched the bottle from his hands.
‘Yeah, but how shallow does that make me?’
‘As shallow as a puddle but that’s not entirely your fault.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Seriously, it isn’t. Society has made it acceptable to tattoo the body but the face – argh! You’re just the same as the majority of people I meet every day who shun me, or walk past and stare. But what do I care, it says more about them than me.’
Esmé grimaced, embarrassed that she and society were so superficial.
‘It makes you look defiant.’
‘Good, I am. I’ll drop by and have another done tomorrow.’
‘You don’t need any more tattoos – you’re covered.’
A wry smile spread across his whisky stained lips.
‘It’s what I do each time one leaves.
’
‘One what?’
‘Buddy.’
‘Do what?’
Asa leant forward peeling his back from the wall.
‘Look,’ he said softly.
Esmé looked at the expanse of back, his muscles as defined as his abs. From his lower left back drifting across his spine and upwards was a medley of tiny birds in a flight formation, in various colours, aiming for the billowing cloud positioned on his right shoulder.
‘Tiny swallows flying high – one for each child,’ he whispered, as Esmé stared at the large flock. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll have number fifty-eight added in blue.’
Esmé couldn’t speak, his tattoos told his story.
Chapter Forty-one
Day 30: Be honest
Esmé woke to the shrill sound of Toby screaming outside her bedroom door.
‘Go and find your daddy,’ called Esmé from beneath her duvet. A new day registered, as her hangover was confirmed by the thunderous drum in her head. Stig’s name instantly filled her heart and mind. He’d died. He’d lost his brave battle. They’d drunk whisky in his honour. She’d drunk far too much. Finally, they’d called it a night at four o’clock in the morning.
The child’s screaming continued, with an additional hiccupping sound that developed within the cry.
Clad in her pyjamas, Esmé climbed from the warmth of her bed and opened the door. Toby was standing on the landing, tear-stained and ugly mouthed, one slipper on, the other in his hand, waving it in a tantrum.
‘Hey, hey, hey. What’s all this crying for? Come here, let’s put your slipper back on then you’ll be happy.’
Esmé knelt before him, took the offending slipper from his hand and raised his left foot. Toby placed his tiny hand on her shoulder to steady himself.
His skin was like velvet, soft, plump and…
Esmé’s eyes nearly fell from her head on seeing his tiny foot. The high arch, the deep curve to the ball of his foot and the rounded rise of the big toe.
His slipper fell from her hand. Esmé sat back on the carpet, her legs outstretched, staring at a tiny bare foot and five wiggly pink toes.
Something was wrong, very wrong. Unless there was a really good explanation for the shape of this child’s foot someone had a lot of explaining to do.
Esmé looked up into the hiccupping face of Toby, a fresh set of eyes scanning his features as a voice began to recall a series of events.
‘Slipper on,’ muttered Toby, pointing to his slipper lying idly on the carpet.
‘Of course,’ Esmé gently replaced his slipper and led him downstairs to find his daddy.
Esmé marched into the lounge, holding Toby’s hand to find Dam lying on the couch watching cartoons.
‘Oh no, daddy’s not here, Toby,’ she said in an overly bright and breezy manner, given her hangover.
Dam looked up, pulled a quizzical expression, then returned to his cartoons.
Esmé led Toby into the morning room, where Asa was scraping the inside of a marmite jar with a knife for his hot toast.
‘No daddy here, either,’ crooned Esmé, in an ultra-sweet voice, tugging Toby through to the kitchen area.
‘Who are you looking for?’ asked Asa.
‘Now there’s a question.’
Asa stopped, his knife suspended in mid-air. Esmé gave a wry smile.
‘Something you’d like to tell me?’
Asa looked at the child, looked back at Esmé and slowly shook his head.
‘Nope.’
‘I didn’t think so… thought I wouldn’t find out, did we?’
‘Esmé?’
‘Don’t Esmé me, Asa… I’m not stupid.’
‘Seriously… you might not want…’
She held up a hand to silence him.
‘You might want to eat your toast before it gets cold.’
‘Fair warning, I’m out of this.’
Esmé turned to leave the morning room as Russ and Kane burst through the doorway, behind them stood Dam looking concerned.
‘Oh, here we are, daddy’s come to find you, Toby,’ cooed Esmé, in a sickly-sweet voice, as she didn’t want to upset Toby.
‘I was just on my way, I heard him crying…’ said Russ.
‘Not you, Russ. I mean daddy… Kane!’
The atmosphere was electric.
Kane looked from Esmé to each of the males and then back at his younger sister.
‘What?’
‘Don’t try that with me, I know.’ She viewed his staring face. ‘You all know what I’m talking about.’
‘Esmé… don’t talk crazy,’ joked Kane. ‘Little piggy’s have big ears.’
‘And feet!’
Esmé bent down and gently removed Toby’s slipper, as if it were a game.
‘Who has feet exactly like that, Kane?’
‘Loads of people…’ Kane stopped as all eyes watched the drama unfurl.
‘Do you want me to ask them all to remove a sock just to show that no, not everyone has such a distinctive foot shape as that?’ asked Esmé, her voice ice cold.
‘Esmé… can I just explain?’ interrupted Russ.
‘No, you can’t. This has nothing to do with you, you’re not the father – you’ve only pretended to be the father or act like the father when I’m around as a cover-up job but now… I know too. Just like they do,’ she pointed at Asa and Dam. ‘And no doubt Jonah is in on it as well, just stupid little me left in the dark because guess what, I’m your sister, his aunt and our parents don’t even know they have a grandson.’
‘Esmé, let me explain,’ begged Kane, snatching Toby up into his arms, the child nuzzling his head into his father’s neck. His friends stood in silence.
‘I’ll give you plenty of time to do that before I nip round and explain to our parents, so please continue, I like to get my facts right.’
‘Excuse me, but I’m off,’ apologised Dam, who grabbed his car keys. ‘I can spend the day at my parents’ house.’
‘Dam, can I jog along too?’ asked Russ.
‘Not really, Russ, he’s probably going to Carys’s instead,’ said Esmé, nonchalantly.
‘What?’ said Dam, his eyes wide.
‘What?’ chorused Russ and Kane.
‘Kane’s not the only one with secrets around here… hey Russ? Is there something you’d like to share about Rita?’
‘Esmé!’
Asa began to belly laugh.
All eyes turned to view him, leaning against the counter top munching his toast.
‘Don’t mind me, I’ll be over here enjoying my breakfast… I’ve heard all this before.’
‘Dam, can you take Toby into the lounge to watch cartoons?’ asked Kane, passing the boy over. ‘I’ll be through in a minute.’
Russ hastily followed suit. The remaining trio stayed silent until the kitchen door was closed.
‘I’m not going to be part of your sordid little secret! I… we should be putting this right as quickly as we can but oh no, big shot Kaney-boy over there is too frightened to face up to his own responsibilities while his mates take the flack and cover for him. Like the weasel that he is…’
‘If you breathe a word of this to our parents I will… I will seriously think about…’
‘I don’t give a flying frig what you want to do… you’ve done enough damage and I am going to put this right for me, my parents and your son!’ shouted Esmé. ‘And I simply don’t understand why Rita was complicit!’
‘You won’t have a clue about anything until you’ve got a child of your own.’
‘Kane, that is such a sorry ass excuse to throw at anyone without a child and even if I did have a child, I wouldn’t deny him his family or his history, just to save face around the Sunday lunch table.’
‘You’re talking out of your ass.’
‘You are the most selfish, arrogant bastard that I have ever met and if you continue I will have no choice but to drive across the city and deliver the news to our parents right now… you have no righ
t to stop me!’
‘Ah, happy families, is it?’ interrupted Asa. ‘I always wondered what that looked like being the only child of a single mother whose father didn’t give a frig whether I had shoes on my feet or food in my belly or not… but thanks to the Peel family – I’m brought right up to date with what I missed.’
‘Asa, save me from the demon that is called a younger sister, sort her out please?’
‘Please continue… this is a whole new scenario for me,’ said Asa, who flopped onto the small sofa and lay back, still chomping his breakfast.
‘It’s nothing to do with her so she should butt out!’ droned Kane, pointing at Esmé, his arm pumping with each word.
Asa nodded.
‘Screw you, this affects the entire family and our futures. How the hell do you date, marry and raise other children knowing you’ve kept this one a secret from our parents… it’s impossible.’
‘You’re impossible… I said this would happen. I knew this would happen if they allowed you to move in. Asa, didn’t I say that?’
‘Yeah, but she had the deposit, which you didn’t have and couldn’t get, so we didn’t have much choice.’
Both siblings turned and stared at Asa.
‘Cheers,’ grumbled Kane.
‘Thanks a bunch,’ spat Esmé.
‘My pleasure.’
‘Bingo, Asa, you pissed us both off with one comment – neat trick!’ laughed Kane.
‘Aren’t you supposed to apologise when your family rift spills over into your housemates’ world of peace and quiet?’ jibed Asa, neatly folding his hands behind his head and settling down to watch the entertainment.
‘Could I get you any popcorn?’ hissed Kane.
‘Maybe at half time.’
‘Nice deflection, Kane,’ shouted Esmé, her hands lifting to her hips. ‘Relying on humour to avoid the real situation!’
Kane turned, his face raging with anger.
‘You’ve wrecked it, that’s what you’ve done. For three years, there’s been no problem… but you moved in and bang the whole thing is blown wide open in a month.’
‘It was always going to come out, whether it was now, then or when he’s eighteen… your son can’t be kept a secret for ever.’
Kane inched closer to his sister, his height advantage clearly in his favour.
