Forever Is Over

by Wade, Calvin

  “I’ve tried to explain to you why I’ve not been. I’m sorry, Jemma.”

  “Richie, your explanation is not good enough, nor is your apology.

  I had convinced myself that there was something between us. It didn’t feel right to me either, because of your love and my love, for Kelly. There were feelings there for you though, feelings I couldn’t suppress. Weird, inexplicable feelings as though destiny had wanted me to be with you and care for you. Then all this happened.

  Now, I’m thinking I read it all wrong. If I was destined to be with you, you would have kept visiting me over the last six months.”

  “Broken glass can be replaced, Jemma.”

  “Would there be any point though, Richie? I’d always just feel like your consolation prize. You may have had feelings for me, but they are outweighed by your feelings for Kelly. How is Kelly by the way? Any idea where she is?”

  Richie swept his fingers through his blond hair.

  “Singapore!”

  “You’re joking!”

  “No. Amy had a phone call from her.”

  “Did Amy not tell her that the ‘Mystery Of The Murdered Mother’ has now been solved and she can come home?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she thinks that if they arrested you, they could arrest her too.”

  “They won’t, Richie. They’ll have closed the files on this one.”

  “It’s not me you need to tell, Jemma. It’s Kelly.”

  I smiled at him.

  “I might just struggle to do that! I don’t think the prison wardens will get a kitty going to fund a trip to Singapore! Have you not thought of going?”

  “I thought about it, but it didn’t happen.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story but when you get out, if my Dad ever gives you a tip for the horses, just ignore it!”

  “I will.”

  “Any idea when you will get out?”

  “No. I’m being a good girl so hopefully I won’t be here forever. They can’t let a killer loose after six months though. The Ormskirk Advertiser would be crammed with letters from outraged right wingers! Still, I’m not ready to come out yet, I’d miss all the girls in here too much!”

  Richie and I sat and chatted amiably throughout that visit. I needed to catch up on what was happening in the outside world. I wanted to know if anyone was outraged by the guilty verdict. I had secretly hoped there was a “Free the Ormskirk One” campaign being run by my MP but Richie confirmed there was nothing of the sort. I don’t know what I expected really, as to a great extent, I wanted to be found guilty, to take the heat off my guilty sibling.

  It was comforting to be able to speak to Richie like an old friend. After confessing our feelings for each other I wondered whether it would be awkward, especially once I took the conversation down the ‘it would never work’ route, as Richie had done very little to persuade me I was wrong. Perhaps he agreed that the ghost of his relationship with Kelly would always haunt us. Still, at least he had finally come and I could finally stop hating him for not visiting.

  Just as visiting time was coming to an end, Richie was putting his coat on and I was looking at him enviously, wishing it was me heading back to a loving family, he threw me another curveball.

  “Jemma, do you hate me a bit less now?”

  “I didn’t hate you, Richie, I was just mad at you!”

  “And are you now?”

  “Less so.”

  “So do you no longer think its destiny that we should be together?”

  I thought he was mocking me.

  “Shut up, Richie!”

  “I’m being serious. Do you think its destiny that we should be together?”

  I was shocked how pleased I felt about him not being playful, but did not know how to react. Richie had taken the pin out the grenade and thrown it towards me. I picked it up and launched it back.

  “Do you?”

  “Who knows! Time will tell us. All I do know is that I will keep coming here every week until you get out, as a friend and if fate decides he wants to pair us up, how can we argue with fate?”

  “Do you promise, you’ll visit?”

  “I promise.”

  Richie smiled at me. I had forgotten how handsome he looked when he smiled. I supposed I had pretended I hated him, but the reality was that my love for him had not needed to be rekindled as it had never died.

  As I headed back to my cell, I just wanted the days to pass, to see if he was a man who kept his promises. I soon found out he was. As for destiny, she played with us for a while, but she knew in the end she was never going to be able to keep us apart!

  Richie (twelve months later)

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, Jemma was out of prison. For over a year, I had visited her every week, without fail and now the wait was over. The wait for Jemma anyway, the wait for the bus wasn’t. We had been standing outside Styal prison for fifteen minutes and Jemma, naturally impatient anyway, but more so having just been released from prison, was getting fed up.

  “So, Richie, why exactly have you not managed to get yourself a car?”

  “I’ve told you this! What would be the point in me having a car, if I can’t drive it?”

  “Still got that multi-tasking problem? Brake, clutch, accelerator, gears, can’t do more than one at once thing?”

  “Don’t you take the mick! I don’t ever remember you passing your test!”

  “Yes, but I’ve got a better excuse than you though, haven’t I? I’ve been banged up!”

  “I have tried to pass! I failed last time for not being completely stationary at a ‘STOP’ sign. Fifty metres from the test centre, I was! I’d driven perfectly before that too.”

  Jemma laughed. It was comforting to see that the cloud above her was moving away.

  “I don’t think you’ll get any medals for driving well for fifty metres!”

  “I meant fifty metres from the end of the test, not fifty metres from the start!”

  I looked at Jemma and she was smiling knowingly at me.

  “You knew what I meant!” I laughed. “Anyway, here’s our bus!”

  Over the previous twelve months, the bizarre love triangle that had previously existed between Jemma, Kelly and myself, had just become a platonic straight line between Jemma and I. Kelly was completely out of the equation, she had not made contact with myself, Amy, Jemma or anyone else from Ormskirk throughout that year. She may well have still been in Singapore or, for all I knew, she could have been back in England. I’d sometimes be in a pub or walking along a busy street, see the back of someone’s head and be sure, when they turned around, that they were going to be Kelly. I was always wrong. As time passed and as the friendship between Jemma and I grew, the less it mattered.

  Probably to my parents relief, I never made it to Manchester Polytechnic. Helen and Jim were always the ones who merited a place at University, Caroline and I had less intellect, but I would argue, more personality. After eighteen happy months at Andy’s Records, I managed to get a new job as a ‘Customer Adviser’ at the Red Rose Building Society in Maghull, a train journey from Town Green each morning of one whole stop! Learning about mortgages and investments was nowhere near as interesting to me as music, but the wages were half as much again, so I was prepared to learn about endowment policies, term assurance, repayment mortgages, personal equity plans and the likes, if it meant I had more spending money each month. At our branch, there were six staff in total, five women and me, but the average age of the ladies must have been well into the late forties, so it was more like working with five mothers than five potential new girlfriends.

  During Jemma’s final time in Styal, the barren romantic years returned. I had no romantic successes but equally no romantic failures. This may have seemed strange considering I was a decent looking lad in the prime of life, but it was easy to explain. To put it bluntly, I was head over heels in love with Jemma. Each time I visited Styal, the bond between us seemed to grow and I had absolu
tely no interest in pursuing anyone else.

  At some point early in that ‘Styal’ period, my brother, Jim started dating Amy Perkins. Initially, this seemed really weird, especially when they barricaded themselves into my bedroom, when Mum and Dad were out for the evening, as unfortunately I knew what they both looked like naked and had mental images even more disturbing than the ones I’d had about Caroline’s heart shaped bush! They were noisy too, so if I was ever in the house with them, whilst Mum and Dad were out, I made sure my personal stereo was close at hand!

  As the months passed though, I stopped thinking of Amy as the girl I once saw naked and just saw her as Jim’s really friendly girlfriend. My weekly visits to Jemma, also shamed Amy into overcoming her fears about prisons and during Jemma’s last few months in Styal, Amy would visit a couple of times a month. I think Amy was subjected to a Jemma Watkinson tongue lashing the first time she visited, as I had been, but once she had overcome that first obstacle, it became plainer sailing.

  Once Jemma’s release date was announced, Amy arranged with her Mum and Dad for Jemma to go and live with them on release. Martin, Amy’s brother, was training to be an actuary in London, so his room was going spare. Most parents would baulk at the thought of having an ex-convict staying in their home, but Amy’s parents were not most parents, they were extraordinarily sweet parents, so apparently agreed to Amy’s request without objection.

  What the future held for Jemma and I, I did not know. On her release, we shared a hug, I kissed her forehead, but we did not act like a boyfriend and girlfriend would act. We had been very close friends, there was no doubting that, the doubt was just whether we would now make the next step. Two years earlier, my relationship with Kelly had appeared to be an obstacle, but too much water had passed under the bridge now for that to still be the case. It was just that if we made the leap from friends to lovers, I knew it would be impossible to revert to friendship if things did not work out.

  Jemma was not Amy, she was a far fiercer creature! I was certain I did not want to rush into anything, although I suppose it could hardly be described as “rushing”, given that we had met platonically every week for the last twelve months. I was just keen to avoid another “me and Amy” type scenario, where we ended up feeling awkward and embarrassed.

  Jemma and I had talked about fate and destiny. I did not believe in “que sera sera”, however, I realised you could steer fate in a direction, but if you forced its hand, it would buck you like a frightened horse.

  We arrived at Amy’s Mum and Dad’s three hours after leaving Styal, a journey that involved taking two buses and two trains! It should have been a forty five minute drive! I needed to pass my driving test! We walked to Amy’s from Aughton Park train station and as we reached Amy’s road, we laughed as we saw a “Welcome Home!” silver banner draped over their porch! We rang the bell, Amy answered, squealing with delight and then gave Jemma an almighty hug before showing her through to the lounge where Amy’s Mum and Dad and Jim were waiting. Amy’s Mum and Jim had party poppers which they pulled the string of, as Jemma arrived and Amy’s Dad popped the cork on a bottle of Cava! I am sure not too many ex-cons, released after serving their manslaughter sentence, have something similar laid on!

  “Welcome back to Ormskirk, love,” Amy’s Mum said, “the place has not been the same without you!”

  Mrs. Perkins went over to Jemma and hugged her. I noticed Jim and Mr. Perkins did not follow suit, but both did seem genuinely pleased to see Jemma.

  “Welcome home, Jemma!” said Mr. Perkins, as his wife pulled out of her hug,

  “Our home is your home for as long as you need it to be.”

  “Thanks Geoff!”

  “How was Styal?” Mr. Perkins asked.

  “Well, it rained for the first few days, but after that it was great!”

  Jim and I chuckled, but the Perkins family lived in a shiny, happy world so did not quite grasp Jemma’s black humour. It was an old joke, our grandfather used to use it when people asked him about the Stalag prisoner of war camp in World War II. The Perkins family just looked confused, so Mr. Perkins poured the Cava and our minor celebration kicked off. Before handing Jemma a glass of Cava, Mr. Perkins checked whether Jemma was OK with alcohol. I could never quite figure out why he asked this, I suppose it was in case Jemma had said,

  “I’d better not, it turns me into a psychopath!”

  Mr & Mrs. Perkins were so pleasant, they would probably just have limited Jemma to half a glass on that basis!

  Throughout the afternoon, irrespective of who I was conversing with, I found my eyes drawn to Jemma. My brain could be very logical about not pushing things and allowing them to run some sort of natural course, but I was twenty one years old and overloaded with testosterone, sperm and desire! The calm, pleasant, easygoing side of my character would say all the sensible things about biding my time, but the lustful, passionate side would find my eyes focusing on Jemma’s breasts, just like I had done aged eleven in the Rachel Cookson infatuation stage, thinking how much I would love to see them emerge from underneath that shirt and bra. Those thoughts were pretty much echoed as my eyes wandered further down Jemma’s body! Given I had been celibate for two years, this reaction was hardly surprising, although I did resist the temptation to run over, wrestle Jemma to the floor and chance my luck! After all, the Perkins’ lounge carpet already held some uncomfortable memories!

  Jim and I stayed at the Perkins house for a couple of hours, before jointly deciding it was time to make a discreet exit. Jim had once described Amy’s Mum and Dad as, “more twee than Tweety Pie!”, so he wasn’t keen on hanging around for too long and I didn’t want to either, as I was sure I would ruin my own ‘playing it cool’ tactic, if I stayed in Jemma’s presence for any longer. I headed over to Jemma, who was deep in conversation with Mrs. Perkins and Amy and politely tugged at the back of her shirt. I let the conversation run its course, then Jemma excused herself and moved a few steps away with me. We faced each other, Jemma looking up at me.

  “Jim and I are going to get going.”

  “Arrrr….do you have to?”

  Jemma’s eyes were a little red. Two glasses of Cava were probably taking effect. I doubted Cava was freely available at lunch time in Styal. “We best had. You need to get yourself settled in.”

  “It’s not like I’ve got six suitcases to unpack, Richie!”

  I knew this. I had carried Jemma’s only small bag of clothes and belongings back from Styal.

  “I know but Jim’s keen to get going and I said I’d go with him. He’s a bit uncomfortable around Amy’s Mum and Dad!”

  “Why? Do you not like them either? Geoff and Doreen are lovely!”

  Jemma said this at a drunk persons volume. Mr & Mrs Perkins naturally turned around. Great! I could now feel a little awkward with every member of the family!

  “We’re going to go!”

  I no longer felt the need to explain any further.

  To say Jemma looked despondent, would have been an almighty exaggeration but she did look disappointed.

  “When will I see you again now then?” Jemma asked.

  “When do you want to see me again?”

  I am sure without the two glasses of Cava, Jemma would have spotted I was testing the waters. Her ability to get the better of me was at an all time low. At that very moment, Cava was Jemma’s sophistication Kryptonite!

  “Now! I want to see you now! I don’t want you to go!”

  Playing hard to get when you’ve not had sex for two years and you are looking straight down at possibly the best pair of breasts ever known to man, attached to a beautiful, dark haired, blue eyed goddess is very, very difficult!

  “I need to go, Jemma! Jim’s waiting!”

  “Let him wait two minutes, Richie! I’ve waited two years!”

  “I know, but what harm will one more day do?”

  I took a step back. If truth be known, I was now 100% sure something would happen between Jemma and I, and sooner rather t
han later. Neither of us had any patience and it seemed we were both keen to get things kickstarted. I was prepared to wait one more day though, as I did not want anything to happen at Amy’s house. Jemma was less keen on waiting.

  “You never know what might happen in twenty four hours in our crazy world’s though, Richie!”

  “True. We’re going to have to chance it though. Come here, give me a hug and I’ll be around tomorrow about twelve. We can have some lunch and then properly celebrate your freedom!”

  Jemma took a few steps towards me and we hugged each other tightly.

  “See you tomorrow, Richie Billingham! I shall be counting the minutes!”

  I broke out into a wide grin. I know she was drunk but it was still flattering to have someone that stunning making a play for you! Given Jemma’s rather loud comments, I let Jim thank Mr & Mrs Perkins on our behalf and we headed home on foot.

  Before we were halfway home, Jim, typically blunt, wanted to discuss what was happening between Jemma and me.

  “You’re going to shag her, aren’t you?”

  “Who?”

  “You know very well who! Jemma. She was all over you! All those years in prison must have done something to her brain!”

  “I think it was the drink. She won’t have had a drink for more than two years.”

  “So! Sometimes the drink just stops us playing games. I will repeat, she was all over you!”

  “I’m not going to pretend I’m disappointed!”

  “Do you like her then?”

  “Of course I like her! Who wouldn’t?”

  “Her Mum for one!”

  “I’ve told you, Jim. She didn’t do that!”

  “I’m not so convinced.”

  We walked on a little in silence. I could have explained to Jim why I was so sure that Jemma had not killed her mother, but I still felt it would be a betrayal of Kelly. A couple of hundred metres down the road, Jim broke the silence.