by Erin Green
‘I promise you’ll regret every word you utter.’
Esmé stepped backwards away from her brother’s warm breath on her face.
‘And I think you’ll regret every minute that you’ve wasted not introducing him to our family… his family.’
Kane stormed from the kitchen, Esmé hot on his heels.
‘And another thing, you lied to Rita when you said they wouldn’t accept her… they’ll welcome her with open arms… you wait and see.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ spat Kane, his stare fixed and serious, his chin thrust forward. ‘If you do… I swear… I’ll… I’ll…’
‘What?’ hissed Esmé, her hostile stance in close proximity to her brother’s body. ‘Tell Mum and Dad?’
‘Esmé.’
‘Kane.’
‘I’m warning you.’
‘Well, I’m warning you, too.’
Kane shook his head and lowered his gaze, he inhaled deeply and consciously. His chest and shoulders appeared to expand to twice their normal size before he slowly exhaled. Esmé had never seen Kane this angry before.
‘Seriously, if you tell them… I will make sure you live to regret it.’
‘Don’t threaten me.’
Kane nodded slowly, his eyes fixed menacingly on his sister.
‘Seriously Esmé, you’ll no longer be a sister of mine.’
Esmé gasped. The pain of his words cut deep and straight.
‘Are you saying…?’
‘That you won’t ever see him or me again if you breathe a word to either of them.’
‘You bastard!’
‘I’m not joking.’
‘I didn’t think that even you could stoop any lower but that is a whole new level, Kane.’
‘Don’t test me, Esmé.’
‘Test you? Believe me when I say you’re the last person I’ll test on this topic. You deny your son the chance of a proper family, you deny his mother the correct support to help her successfully raise him as a single parent and you, Mr know-it-all Kane thinks that he’s the one being tested. Get a grip man… how the hell do you figure that out?’
‘I’m warning you, it’ll be, bye, bye Auntie Esmé…’
Esmé’s anger billowed from her boots, every cell in her body wanted to smack this arrogant, selfish bastard into the middle of next week.
Is this what brawling men felt like just before they threw the first punch?
‘You’re deluded!’
‘May be, but that’s my choice.’
Esmé span around to face the other way, she couldn’t bear to see his gurning features any more. Never had she hated someone so much as she hated her own brother at that precise moment.
‘He has rights.’
‘I have rights, too.’
‘What?’ Esmé spun round, unable to control her temper as a torrent of venom flared inside. ‘You get a girl pregnant, secretly stand by her telling her a whole pack of lies about our family not existing, win her over with some sob story. And then tell more and more lies to anyone that’ll listen to you… including your mates… who I’m sure have tried to talk some sense into you many times. But oh no, Kane knows best.’
The kitchen door swung open.
‘Esmé, enough’s enough – you’ve tried to talk sense into him,’ muttered Asa, filling the doorway.
Esmé turned to Asa and lifted her hands in a helpless shrug.
‘I know, I’ve tried too, but he’ll do as he wishes,’ said Asa calmly. ‘You and the rest of us have to abide by his choices… none of us agree with him. Well, I never have anyway.’
‘But how can he insist that…’ Esmé turned to Kane, her eyes pleading. Kane stared angrily. ‘If this is you, the real you… I don’t want you as a brother but at least this way Toby and our parents will get to know one another despite your threats towards me. I’ll cope without you!’
‘Esmé, come here, please,’ asked Asa, beckoning her back into the kitchen.
Esmé walked towards Asa’s outstretched hand but then stopped and turned.
‘In fact, I swear on my life that by this time tomorrow our parents will know they have a grandchild. They’ll have seen pictures of him and if that means I no longer exist as far as you’re concerned than fine, have it your way. But I am not going to keep that little boy a secret.’
Within a heartbeat Esmé was through the open doorway, Asa moved his foot, allowing it to close swiftly before wrapping his arms tightly around Esmé’s sobbing shoulders.
Kane stood in the hallway, not knowing which way to turn.
Within seconds they heard Toby say goodbye to Dam and Russ, then the slam of the front door notified the entire house that Kane had chosen to leave.
Chapter Forty-two
The studio door buzzed as they entered. Asa was greeted warmly by two men covered with tattoos, setting up their work stations for the afternoon by wrapping cling film across every surface.
‘Morning fellas, anyone available to squeeze me in?’ asked Asa, looking between them.
‘One of your birds?’ asked the older male, his ear lobes stretched to golf ball size.
‘Yeah Tony, he died yesterday.’
‘Oh man, I’m sorry…’ continued the tattoo guy, ‘We don’t need you to tell us how much they struggle to stay alive.’
‘Exactly, but yeah, he asked for it in blue ink.’
‘Who did?’ asked Esmé.
‘Stig.’
‘He asked for a blue bird?’
‘I ask them what colour they want… they know what I do once they’ve gone.’
‘Free hand?’ asked Tony.
Esmé stood in awe as both guys offered to squeeze Asa in before their booked clients arrived. It seemed surreal to watch the two burly men speak so softly and respectfully.
‘Do you always come here?’ asked Esmé, interrupting their flow.
‘Always, these two are responsible for everything I’ve got inked,’ explained Asa, waving a hand at the duo. ‘You might want to take issue with them for ruining my skin.’
‘Not to your taste, hey, lady?’ asked the younger one in the corner, displaying a pair of tattooed sleeves that stopped at his knuckles.
‘He’s one of our regulars,’ laughed Tony, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.
‘Asa!’
‘You said it, not me!’ retorted Asa, unbuttoning and removing his shirt and indicating a position to the top of his right shoulder.
Esmé wanted to look away but couldn’t. The sight of his naked torso in full daylight as he settled face down on their black couch was hypnotic.
‘Pull up a chair if you want?’ said the older guy, as he grabbed wipes and began cleaning the area.
‘No, I’ll stay here…’ answered Esmé, touching the counter top a short distance away.
Asa’s head lifted, then he turned and smiled at her.
‘Stop being a chicken, come and watch… you never know, you might fancy one yourself after this,’ he said, his eyes twinkling.
Esmé tried to think of a smart retort, but she had nothing. He’d won.
Let’s live a little.
‘I doubt it, but I’ll pull up a seat and watch you squirm in agony.’
Asa pulled a face.
‘It doesn’t hurt, you wuss.’
‘Hmmm, it might,’ she said, as she dragged a wooden stool across and sat near his head.
‘Wooooo, more like she’s hoping it hurts you!’ laughed Tony, using a purple pen to draw a tiny bird freehand. ‘Now, who am I to please, him or her?’
‘Me! I’m paying,’ laughed Asa.
‘You ready?’
‘Yep.’
Asa’s gaze lifted to meet Esmé’s.
‘I’m glad you came along. I thought you’d bail out.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ smiled Esmé. ‘I like proving you wrong.’
‘Mmmm, do you now?’ he whispered, as the artist stretched the skin on Asa’s back and the whir of the needle began.
*
; ‘What do you think?’ asked Asa, minutes later as he stood in front of the large mirror, clutching a smaller mirror to help view his shoulder.
Esmé couldn’t speak. Her tears had flowed from the minute the navy ink started to seep into his skin.
‘Hey, you big softy. I’m asking for your opinion and all you can do is snivel; does it look OK?’
‘It… looks… beautiful…’ she hiccuped, into the tissue hastily offered by the younger guy. ‘Stig… would… have… loved… it.’
Asa handed back the small mirror and wrapped his arms around her quivering shoulders as the booked client arrived looking bewildered.
‘Come here, you daft one, there’s no need to get so upset.’
Esmé inhaled his warmth, deep and musky with a hint of freshly applied deodorant.
‘It’s… just… that I’ve never seen something as beautiful as that before… you’ve actually given up your own skin to remember them… all of them.’
Asa pulled back to view her tear-stained face.
‘Exactly, but shhhh, that really isn’t rock and roll, is it?’
‘Nope, quite the opposite.’
Asa squeezed her tightly before releasing her.
‘It certainly is. Now, dry your eyes or this customer will think you’ve sobbed like a baby having your own tattoo.’
Esmé frantically wiped at her face as Asa sat down for protective wrapping to be taped to his shoulder and back.
‘You know the rules, look after it, care for it and it’ll last you a lifetime,’ laughed Tony.
‘Thanks,’
‘Always a pleasure, you know that.’
*
‘Does it hurt?’ asked Esmé, as they walked back home.
‘Sometimes, but I can hardly complain, can I?’
‘Suppose not, given the endless pain they endured.’
‘That’s life, petal. Endure the pain to receive the peace.’
Esmé stared up at him, as they strode along.
‘You talk in riddles a lot of the time, don’t you?’
‘Not really, if Stig was here right now he’d know exactly what that meant… but you, you’ve not known the pain, so why should you get it?’
‘I’ve known pain.’
‘When?’
‘I broke my arm at nine, I’ve had wisdom teeth come through all at the same time, I’ve had…’
‘That’s shite pain… I’m talking real pain, loss, death, injury, serious illness – that pain.’
Esmé shook her head.
‘Exactly, and until you do… you haven’t a clue about life.’
‘Asa!’
‘I’m not trying to patronise you, but honestly, if you had you’d know I don’t talk in riddles, I speak the truth, known by those who know.’
Esmé thrust her hands deep into her side pockets.
‘Don’t get arsey.’
‘I’m not.’
‘You are. I can tell.’
‘You think you know everything…’
‘I know about life.’
‘Go on then, let’s hear it… let’s hear about the pain you’ve suffered to know everything there is to know, when I know nothing.’
‘Drink?’
‘Yeah, if it helps.’
‘Are you sure you’ve got the time, I thought you were planning to visit your parents’ to discuss Toby?’
‘I’ve plenty of time. I’ll phone them later today and make arrangements to visit on Sunday, it’ll give Kane a chance to talk to them before I do.’
‘Esmé, drink doesn’t help but it’ll give you something to cry into when I tell you, that’s all.’
‘Ha bloody ha.’
Within minutes Asa had cut down one street, crossed a main road and was hauling her through the doors of a distinctly grubby looking pub.
‘You seem to have a taste for dives,’ said Esmé, staring around the darkened room where a handful of customers cradled pint glasses.
‘Quite the opposite actually, I just don’t judge on face value as much as you do,’ whispered Asa, as they neared the lengthy bar.
A sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her as she struggled to climb onto the bar stool.
‘We’re not sitting at the bar,’ said Asa. ‘Go grab that corner table, I’ll bring your JD over.’
Esmé did as she was told.
He’s got a bloody big chip on his shoulder, he thinks he knows everything about everybody – well he doesn’t.
Within minutes, Asa was carrying a full tray of glasses towards her.
‘How many?’
‘JD and coke. I cancelled the ice and two whisky chasers each.’ Asa settled the tray before settling himself.
‘Can you hear my liver screaming ‘no’?’ laughed Esmé.
‘Nah, but if I do I suggest we ignore it, it’ll cope.’
‘I’ve drunk more since moving in with you guys then I ever have before.’
‘Cheers!’ Asa gulped at his JD. Esmé followed. ‘How good is that?’
‘Great!’ mocked Esmé.
‘You see there’s one huge difference between us. I savour the little things, the taste of a drink, the smell of the place – you simply gulp it down and don’t recognise or acknowledge the enjoyment of it. That…’ pointing to his glass. ‘Tastes great.’
‘So, I don’t sample life like you, that doesn’t mean to say I don’t feel what you do.’
‘But you don’t.’
‘I do.’
‘Nah, you don’t.’
‘Asa!’
‘Esmé!’
‘I do.’
‘You don’t and here’s why… and I don’t mean this nastily but you’ve been brought up in a lovely little life where every pain and danger has been removed or eased.’
‘No.’
‘You have. You’ve never gone hungry, you’ve never known loneliness, hurt, pain, fear…’
‘Here we go again,’ mocked Esmé, busying her hands by sipping her drink. ‘I’ll remind you that we came in here to hear your story, so why focus on mine? Are you avoiding the topic?’
Asa shook his head.
‘Not at all.’
‘Let’s hear it then…’
‘OK. It’d been just me and mum, my father skipped out and moved on at the teenage pregnancy stage. Anyway, we lived in a small flat in a terraced build the other side of town. Mum worked… I went to school. That was the routine.’
Esmé hung on his every word. Her eyes flicking about his face as he seemed to return to the two bedroomed flat of yesteryear.
‘Anyway, it was getting near to Christmas, Mum took on an extra job to earn some pennies, so I used to go to my Gramp’s house after school until Mum collected me. One night I had to stay there even longer than usual, she mentioned something to do with more overtime – that kind of thing. Turned out she’d been busy decorating the lounge with Christmas decorations ready to surprise me when I returned.’
‘Like a reward?’
‘Exactly.’ He swigged his JD drink.
Esmé got it. A working mum making the most of things, adding in the treats as and when she could and trying her best to make ends meet.
‘Anyway, Gramps walked me home, Mum opened the door with a big grin, she covered my eyes with her hands and we walked into the centre of the lounge. I remember counting to three, then she whipped her hands away.’
Asa’s face softened. The hard edges had gone and a mellowness hung around his eyes as he stared into the distance some way beyond Esmé’s right shoulder.
‘It was fab, she’d decorated the entire room in tinsel, coloured streamers, a real Christmas tree stood in the corner – the full works. She really had spent ages on it. I was thrilled, we’d never had anything like that in previous years but this year was going be different. She’d said so, so many times.’
Asa took another swig of his JD and coke, before he returned to his story.
‘She was happy – I know that now… to be able to thrill a child and hear his delight after y
ou’ve spent hard earned money on a few bits and bobs stapled around a room – that gave her pleasure.’ A lengthy pause occurred, Esmé waited, ready for him to resume his story.
‘Anyway, bedtime came and she always went to bed at the same time as me, there was no point her staying up on her own… it made sense to close the flat down for the night. So, while I warmed my pyjamas by the fire she went round blowing out the candles that she’d lit around the room: on the mantelpiece, the bookcase, the window ledge. I can see her now, moving quietly to each one, blowing them out and wafting the whisper of smoke away with her hand.’
Asa ignored his JD and coke, grabbed a whisky shot and downed it in one gulp.
‘We were asleep when the noise from outside woke me in the middle of the night. My room was thick with smoke. I got out of bed and looked out of the window, I could see the neighbours outside pointing up at our flat. I started to call for Mum, she should have been in the room next to mine, but when I ran in she wasn’t there. The bed had the clothes pulled back but nothing. I started along the corridor towards the lounge door and that’s when I saw the fire. A total blaze, everything in it was on fire, including the couch on which my mum was lying.
I couldn’t leave her there, by this time people were banging on the front door, trying to smash it down, I was trying to wake my mum. I shook her. I yelled at her… but nothing. I understand now that she was overcome by the smoke because her face had black soot marks on it. She knew nothing about it.’
Esmé exhaled in a gasp, having held her breath for much of the story. Asa’s focus returned to the room and he blinked, as if he’d forgotten where he was. He sipped his JD and continued.
‘That’s it really, the neighbours came charging in once the door had given way, the fire brigade arrived soon afterwards and Gramps was called.’
‘Your mum?’
‘Dead… it was too much to fight once the door was open, the fire used the additional oxygen and the intensity was just too much, even the fire brigade had a job on their hands, let alone the neighbours trying to save her.’
Orphaned at nine, thought Esmé.
She snatched up a whisky shot and downed it in one. No face pulling, no twisted expression, nothing. Asa watched her intensely, his eyes deepening into glistening pools as he stared.
‘That’s how I got this,’ he pointed to the left side of his face.
