Beyond Angel Avenue

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  “Hey, Jules,” he calls when he gets to the kitchen doorway.

  I turn and see he fills the space, just like Warrick. My goodness how the boy must haunt Anna, the spitting image of his father. He shoots me soft, forgiving eyes and I put down my oven glove to chase over and hug him.

  He hugs me back immediately and I feel the hard muscle he’s developed underneath his clothes. At fourteen, he’s even an inch or two taller than Warrick now and has a skinhead.

  “Why’ve you got rid of the Samson locks?” I pull back, a wry smile on my face.

  “Uh, just couldn’t be arsed with it. I shower like twelve times a day sometimes!”

  I nod and survey him closer. He’s an athlete now.

  “Warrick said you’ve done well training with City?”

  He folds his arms, exactly like Warrick does when he feels intimidated. “Really love it, Jules. I see footballs in my sleep and fuck, my body is not my own, but I love it.”

  I narrow my eyes and point at him. “Yeah, well, I hope you’re studying hard as well. I’ll be on your case if not.”

  Warrick joins us in the room and answers for Joe, “Straight A’s.”

  “Ah, good, I’m glad to hear it.” I lightly punch his shoulder and ask him, “What’s the funny look for?”

  He purses his lips, exactly like Warrick, and replies, “I was a kid when you left… now I kinda see how much of a lucky twat he is.”

  Warrick grabs him around his head and tackles him. “This kid, cos he still is a kid, thinks he’s so smart, don’t he?”

  I laugh loudly. “Oh my god, there’s two of them.”

  I turn back to the stove because dinner is almost ready and I can tell Warrick is salivating over his first home-cooked stew in years. I’ve gone all out with herb dumplings and red wine, plus kale, Jersey royals, baby carrots and green beans. We’ll all be farting for England over dessert – chocolate bread and butter pudding with a thick chocolate-toffee sauce.

  When the doorbell rings and Warrick goes to answer it, Joe moves in and perches on the sideboard nearest. “Haven’t seen him this happy in ages.”

  While the vegetables simmer a couple more minutes, I turn to him with my arms folded. “Hasn’t he offered you a room here?”

  Joe shakes his head. “Nah. Think he’s needed his own time. He’s been…”

  The young lad looks awkward and with Terry and Wendy busy shaking off their coats in the hall, I ask quickly, “He went into hermit mode again?”

  Joe nods.

  I reach forward and take his wrist, looking directly into his eyes. “You can move in here if she’s too much. Warrick won’t say it but he knows she’s off the rails. I sense it.”

  “It’s worse than I wanna tell you,” Joe admits.

  I can read an unhappy kid; I was that unhappy kid once.

  “You’re old enough to make the choice and we have plenty of room here. I’d never turn you away and you know it. You can always turn to me, Joe. Always.”

  He jumps down from the sideboard and swallows the lump in his throat, moving towards me to give me a much stronger hug than the one he welcomed me back with.

  “I’ll tell her later. She won’t like it but she brought it on herself.”

  “Okay, no problem. And you know,” I touch his shoulder, “she just needs some time to realise what she’s doing. She’ll come out of it.”

  “She won’t,” he shakes his head, “she’s too bitter Jules. I’m a kid but even I know the things she’s said are wrong.”

  “They’re just words, Joe. Besides you’re not a kid, you’re a young man now.”

  He smiles warmly but warns me, “They’re not just words. Not when she follows through on them. She’s posted turds through his letter box, sent hate mail to him at work.”

  “What?” I sound genuinely shocked.

  “Yeah.”

  Just how serious is this?

  With the threesome in the hall moving closer to us, I warn him, “Shall I speak to her?”

  “No. No way.”

  When Terry, Wendy and Warrick pile into the large kitchen with us, I immediately turn to Warrick. “Joe’s moving in with us.”

  “What?” My fiancé thinks it’s a bad idea, evidently.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what else she’s been doing?”

  “I think that’s best all round, actually,” Terry adds, walking forward to peck my cheek, “nice to see you again, Julianne.”

  I stare at Warrick. “Shit through the letter box and hate mail? Is she even sane? Does she know stuff like that could risk her job?”

  “It’s not her fault,” Warrick defends, pulling his hands through his curls.

  “What? I tell you, if she posts shit when I’m here, you’ll be taking me away for GBH. She won’t see the light of day again because I’ll fucking punch her lights out.” I’m seriously angry and I don’t know how he can defend this kind of behaviour. The woman tore us apart when she knew how in love we were. She took advantage of Warrick when he was vulnerable and upset – tried to get him to go back to a place he had vowed never to return. There are so many things I could have forgiven but going back there with his ex-wife was not one of them. She grinds my gears even when she’s not in the room. All those calls when I first got with Warrick, when she was allegedly going through a rough patch with Jake – now it all makes sense – she just remarried to hurt Warrick and never loved Jake, she can’t have done. She just couldn’t leave the past behind.

  I realise everyone in the room is looking at me, shocked. I excuse myself, “Sorry for the language but Warrick, it’s not your fault she’s doing this. She’s being a bitch. Joe is desperate to escape his own mother… what does that tell you?”

  “Okay, okay,” Warrick holds his hands up, “you’re right. You’re right. Joe should move in here and he will. Dad’s been saying it for ages but I didn’t wanna leave her with nothing, you know?”

  The oven bleeps and I mutter, “Only way people can reboot is to hit rock bottom first, don’t we know it?”

  Silence is all I hear from the room as everyone passes through to the dining room to be seated, but Terry hangs back and whispers behind me, “Great to have you back, Julianne. Really great.”

  We have a lovely dinner and Terry and Wendy have seconds and thirds. Joe has so many extra helpings, I think he gets to fifths. Everyone remarks they haven’t eaten so well in years and I tell them tales of my travels, of spending time in kitchens at the back of bars, learning things from some of the best chefs out there. I met so many talented people on my travels, those content to live in quiet areas, away from the fast-paced lifestyle of cities or towns. So many heroes in the world don’t ask for fame and fortune, silent in their true mastery of some art or talent. I kind of saw the appeal of living a carefree life but my time away reminded me I prefer to be busy. I missed teaching a lot, but not as much as I missed Warrick.

  “Thanks for tonight, Jules, I really mean it,” Warrick says as we’re pulling back the bedcovers together, our guests long gone. Pictionary and brandy finished us all off after such a hefty dinner. Joe and me won, surprise, surprise.

  We slide into bed and hold one another, side by side. I tug him close with my leg over his body. “Don’t make excuses for her, she’ll never learn otherwise. You should’ve wrote to me and told me how bad it was. You should have brought me home ages ago. I didn’t know she was crazy. I thought the whole thing was unfinished business but really, she just can’t stand for you to be happy.”

  He swallows thickly. “I still feel awful about it all. I feel like it’s my fault and I can’t help it. Joe’s strong, you know? He’s tried to talk to her too but I know what he’s been going through and it’s been so hard–”

  Warrick’s cheeky façade fractures and he rolls on his back to cover his face with his hands.

  “Don’t cry,” I ask, rubbing my fingers through his chest hair, “I love you. Plus, I rang round some places yesterday and… one has a date free.”

  �
��What?” He blinks away tears, turning to me.

  “You remember one of our first dates… at The Deep?”

  He smiles, his voice hoarse, “How could I forget?”

  “We were angry with each other. I hardly remember why now. It was still wonderful.” I slide across the bed and lie slightly on top of him, my hands either side of his head. “They just had a cancellation for Valentine’s Day and they’re holding it for us until Monday. What do you say?”

  He nods slowly, his face set in shock.

  “I want it small and intimate, just us and our closest. I don’t want a big fuss. I found somewhere we can honeymoon, too… you just need to see if you can get the time off.”

  “I’ll swing it,” he says in a strangled voice, emotion overflowing.

  I kiss his lips briefly and remind him, “I’ll be Jules Jones!”

  We both laugh and I snake further into his arms, burrowing my nose in his neck. “You really want to marry me?”

  “Oh god, more than anything Rick. I’ve wanted to marry you since the day you first made love to me. You’re all I want. I love you so much.”

  Should I tell him I already have a dress? It’s lodged at the back of my wardrobe and has been for several years. I once saw it in a sale and knew it was the one for me. I wasn’t even engaged but I just knew I’d marry him in it one day.

  I start licking his throat the way I know he likes and he growls, “What are you doing? Are you seriously giving me another blowjob? I feel suspicious about all this attention on me–”

  I lift his hand to my bare rear beneath my nightshirt and he finds me panty-free.

  “Jules, ah, Jules.”

  He cups my buttocks in his hands and pulls me right on top of him. He pulls his boxers down beneath me and I sit up as he guides me onto his length. I’m drenched already.

  I rock back and sigh, moaning, “I’m back and not going anywhere.”

  He peels the buttons of my shirt open and tosses it to the floor. His hands sweep everywhere and he kisses my body as I make love to him. I throw my arms back and scoop my hair into my hands, wild, expressive of how much I trust him. I shut my eyes and use my man, taking him to ecstasy with me. I’m about to come when I realise the dress might not fit me anymore! Ah! He notices something is wrong and I explain, “I put on a few pounds here,” I grab my breasts, “it won’t fit!”

  “What?”

  “The dress I bought four years ago!”

  “You’re gonna look bloody tasty, even if you wear a jumpsuit! I love that I have all this to suck on now,” he exclaims, making me squeal when he bites my boob.

  He tosses me over onto my back and pushes deep into me, taking my breath away.

  “It’s bad luck anyway,” he reveals, “I already saw that thing in the back of your wardrobe and it’s not good enough for my Julie.”

  I playfully slap his face as he thrusts. “Don’t call me Julie.”

  “Aggressive? Don’t make me fuck you hard.”

  I dig my nails in his buns and he traps my hands above my head.

  “Julie, ah god, my Julie,” he laughs, and I realise from now on, I’ll have to make sure he has his hand over my mouth every time I scream the house down. Joe doesn’t want to hear me gasping like a bitch every night.

  “Lift up, Rick.”

  He pulls me onto his lap while I’m still laid down and pushes me to the edge, his erection hitting me at just the right angle. I reach down and touch myself and it drives him over the edge of propriety as he hooks my leg over his shoulder to fuck me hard, sweat dripping from his face, hair matted on his forehead.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jules!” he shouts, and I wrap my arms around my head, trying to protect myself from what I know is coming. The female orgasm hits me and he celebrates loudly, “Ah Jesus, Jules, yeah, baby, you’re so wild! I love it.”

  We fall down together and he puffs and pants in my ear, his damp penis laid on my still-open thigh.

  “I bet you want a snack now.”

  “You know me so well,” I reply, turning to kiss him, my hand on his cheek.

  He grunts and puts his boxers on. “I’ll go get the chips and dip.”

  I can’t stop giggling loudly and when he’s gone a while, I step onto the landing to find out what’s taking so long. Thankfully, I hear him on the phone, asking his father to clear the fourteenth.

  Chapter Five

  Jules

  We’re in the pub and I’m reading a wedding magazine while he’s reading the Racing Post. It smells of stale beer in here and I keep trying to catch a whiff of secondary cigarette smoke every time the door opens. I love stinky old pubs like this. Since we set the date, finally, I’ve been busy preparing a guest list and looking at what sort of invitations I might buy. Terry, Joe and Wendy couldn’t be more happy for us but we’ve all agreed Anna is to know nothing about the wedding. She’ll find out in good time. She’s already hit the roof about me being back and Joe moving in with us next week.

  It’s only been a few days since we finally decided to tie the knot but I already feel stressed out. Where am I going to get a custom-made dress at such short notice? Do we want matching rings? Do I want flowers? A car? My hair up or down. I don’t have anyone to consult with; Warrick just grunts whenever I mention all this to him. I get it – he’s a bloke. So as we sit in the local pub enjoying Wednesday curry night, I think my stars may have aligned because Ruby and Vernon walk in. They’re staring around the Tudor pub, seeking an empty table at the same time as removing their scarves, hats and gloves.

  “Aren’t they your friends?” Warrick elbows me.

  I gulp. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to get in touch–”

  I’m thinking about signalling to them when Ruby sees me and flies straight over.

  “It is you!” she cries, “oh, Jules!”

  I stand and get yanked into her arms so tight, I can’t actually breathe. To add to my discomfort, Vernon wraps his arms around us both and tells me, “Oh Jules, we’ve missed you so, so much.”

  I pull back and see both of them are really upset. I search their faces and part of me judges that they’re being unfair. Don’t they realise why I had to go?

  Well I doubt it – they don’t know about the sort of life I’ve led.

  Warrick stands and announces, “Why don’t you join us? We only just ordered.”

  He offers his hand to Vernon but Ruby eyes him warily. Ooh, looks like she hasn’t got much love for Warrick.

  “Let’s go to the bar mate, and give them a mo?” Vernon suggests.

  Warrick folds the newspaper he was reading in half and nods, walking off with Vernon. I give Warrick a look not to buy alcohol. We’re trying for a baby now.

  As soon as they’re gone, she turns venomous on me. “Why didn’t you call, woman?”

  I hold my forehead and gesture she sit down before she makes a scene. Sat opposite me, she doesn’t even take her coat off, glaring accusingly.

  “You mean to let you know I got back?”

  She nods.

  “I got back on Christmas Eve. I was going to catch up with you, I promise, but I’ve hardly had time to draw breath since I landed.”

  Her pretty little face scrunches up and I suddenly get blinded and point at her hand. “When did that happen!? Oh congratulations!”

  She smiles begrudgingly, showing me a full complement of rings. “We were engaged within six months and last summer, we flew out with our parents and got hitched in Vegas.”

  “That’s unreal. I’m so happy for you!”

  She folds her arms, looking away from me, still upset. “Yeah, well.”

  “I’m sorry, for everything. I am.”

  Her lip wobbles. “Jules, you just… went! I mean…” She struggles with her emotions and shows me her tearful expression. “I went to your house when Jack told me and bawled at that man of yours. I shouted at him good and proper.”

  I snicker. “You did?”

  “He told me what happened and I bloody well told him
to go after you but he was adamant you needed your time. I was as angry as hell, I tell you. Well, there’s not really a word to cover how I felt actually.”

  “Apoplectic?”

  “Yeah,” she nods, “that I was.”

  I chew my lip and ask her, “So, you don’t want to be maid of honour then?”

  “Hey?” Her deep frown makes her eyebrows almost disappear beneath skin.

  “Valentine’s Day. We’re not hanging around anymore. We know what we want.”

  She doesn’t look happy about our news. In fact, when the guys return to the table, she scowls.

  Vernon sits down next to her while Warrick puts two lemonades on the table in front of us. We share knowing glances and fearful looks. Ruby really is a firecracker, and Vernon knows it. He asks his wife gently, “Has Jules told you the good news? Rick just told me at the bar.”

  “Yeah,” she says in a stroppy manner, “I’m apparently her maid of honour.”

  She eyes Warrick angrily and he asks, “Why don’t you just get it off your chest?”

  She takes that as her cue, sitting forward, pointing at him. “You’re the one who made her go but we’re the ones that had to pay. It’s not been right without her. Nothing’s been the same.”

  “Nobody made me do anything. I went of my own free will,” I butt in, because she’s talking like I don’t have a mind of my own. She stares at me and I look between Vernon and Warrick who look too frightened to back me up. “I wanted to go travelling my whole life and I felt if I didn’t do it then, I was never going to do it. Teaching isn’t my only thing, Ruby… you know that. I danced all over the world while I was away. I did it for my mother. She wanted me to be a dancer.”

  “Wanted? What do you mean, wanted…? You never mentioned her–”

  “Ruby,” Warrick cuts in sternly, and everyone’s ears stand to attention in the face of his authoritative tone. He clears his throat and adds in a calmer voice, “Jules doesn’t talk about her mum. She died when Jules was small. It was a pretty tragic death and we don’t need to go over the details.”