by A Zukowski
not a small woman, as Chris’s height testifies, but
against Alex, she seems to have shrunk since her
last rare visit.
“See? One room. And I ain’t sleeping with my
mother.” Chris points to the direction of their room.
“So, knock it off now.”
Annette starts to cry; her tears ruin her make-up
further. Her long red nails dig into Alex’s side.
“Ah, I…she can have my bed, Chris,” Alex offers.
Chris has already sussed that Alex is a big softie.
They knew from the first time they had a proper
conversation that underneath the scary appearance,
Alex Whale is a compassionate man. But they can’t
let Alex do that for a woman—an intoxicated
mistress of misery—he hardly knows.
“Don’t be daft. She’s so going home.” Chris urges
her mother. “Come on, Annette. Where’s your other
shoe?”
“It’s no problem, honestly. I’ll stay here on the
sofa.” Alex gazes at Chris.
You’ve got to be kidding. The couch is not long or
wide enough for him.
“Oh, Alex darling. That’s so kinda you,” Annette
slurs and flashes a big smile while letting the
eyeliner run down with the tears. If she was not
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their mother, Chris might think this was a poorly
scripted TV sitcom that had gone on for far too long.
“Fucking hell.” Frustrated, Chris throws their
arms up. “Annette. Alex doesn’t know you. You can’t
have his room. Now, come with me. I’ll get a taxi for
you.”
Chris rips out their phone to call a cab.
Alex puts his hand on Chris’s. “Hey. It’s okay.
She’s pissed. We should let her rest.”
Chris is surprised at how soothing Alex’s big hand
and words are. “But…”
Alex is already pushing Annette along gently to
his room, her one stiletto dangling from his
forefinger. They’ll have to locate the other one later.
Annette slurs. “Darling. You’re not like my Chris,
are you? I can’t believe how nice you are! You were
fierce when you boxed.”
Chris follows them. “Oh, shut up, Mother.”
They have always called her Annette because,
growing up, she didn’t want people to know she had
a kid. So the name had stuck. When Chris gets mad
at her, though, they call her ‘Mother’ just to piss her
off.
Together, Alex and Chris manoeuvre Annette into
Alex’s room. Chris wants to take the make-up off to
save her complexion, but the woman’s too far gone.
She stumbles and falls over the short distance, even
with Chris’s support. Alex’s pillow’s going to look
like a Picasso painting tomorrow. Chris silently
laughs about that.
Annette falls onto the bed. Chris picks up their
mum’s heavy legs and deposits them on the
mattress, then they pull up the duvet. Annette
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mumbles something about Chris being a good kid.
Chris rolls their eyes. As if they had a fucking
choice.
Annette thrashes about to get comfortable, while
Alex and Chris stare down at her like two white-coat
scientists examining an experiment gone wrong.
Annette slurs. “You’re so sweet…wouldn’t know
you killed your wife looking at you…”
Chris’s eyes snap wide open as they stare at Alex.
Alex turns his head to avoid their gaze, and
wrings his hands.
Annette tries to get up. For what? Fuck if I know.
“Come on, now. Get under the cover and shut up
already.”
Chris has always spoken to Annette like that
because they have that kind of relationship with
their mum in their fucked-up family. All their life,
they’ve been Annette’s nurturer, partner-in-crime,
cash cow, but never their child.
Maybe it all started that one time. When she
stood in front of Annette to protect her. Whack. She
had to stay at home so the school wouldn’t question
her mum over the bruise. They would have sent
Chris away, Annette had told her. Yes, it was a bout
of very bad flu. Chris lied, just as Annette had told
her, and she’s been lying about a lot of things ever
since until she never knows what’s real and what’s
not, and her heart has gone cold.
Chris sighs in relief after Annette finally lapses
into oblivion. She and Alex head back to the sitting
room.
Alex scratches his head. “Well, I’ll rest here. I
don’t sleep much anyway.”
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Alex approaches the couch, but Chris places her
hand on Alex’s arm. “Hey, come here.”
She holds Alex’s right hand and leads him to her
room.
Once inside Chris’s room, she puts her hand on
Alex’s chest and touches the fabric of his T-shirt
against the solidity it sheaths.
“Thanks. She’s…she’s always this over-the-top.”
“Don’t apologise. Should I have turned her
away?” Alex asks, scratching his five o’clock shadow
at the same time.
“Well, that’s almost impossible. You’ve seen how
she is.” Chris smiles apologetically, angling her head
and squinting in the low light.
Alex sighs. “About what she said—”
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Chris
insists. “Or, you can tell me in your own time. I’m
good with secrets. Anyway, I won’t judge. Okay?”
Alex rubs his temple. “Okay.”
She looks up and sees a moment of naked
vulnerability in Alex’s dark eyes. “Come with me,
Alex.”
Chris climbs up the bed and sits cross-legged,
then pats the empty space on the mattress.
Her eyes meet Alex’s. It’s that simple. It.
Something they don’t quite know, and yet it is
drawing them together more and more.
Alex joins Chris, sits on the edge of the bed and
twists around to face her. He takes a deep breath,
and speaks with a husky voice. “I crashed our car
one night, killing Sam, my wife. I was drunk and
high on crack.”
Alex squeezes his eyes shut.
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More quietly, he confesses, “And I killed the
driver of the other car.”
“Fuck,” Chris mutters.
“I went to jail for causing death by dangerous
driving. Two counts. Five years. I served four years
and three months, and I just got my parole, as you
might have guessed.”
Chris has already gathered that Alex is an ex-con,
like so many other people who have passed through
the flat.
Alex sighs. “Now you know. I’ll go for a walk and
you go to sleep.” He turns to leave, but Chris holds
him back once more.
“Alex.”
He still won’t face Chris. “Don’t. It’s okay. You’d
have found out sooner or later. The whole world
knew except you. Now you do. Why do you think I
can’t face the public?”
Chris pulls Alex back and reaches over to lay her
hand on his warm back, resting her face against his
shoulder as she whispers, her voice gentle and
calming, “It’s okay. You made a bad mistake. You’ve
served time. You torture yourself, don’t you,
Alexander?”
Chris can see it all in Alex’s face, can feel what’s
unspoken and the pain in Alex’s disturbed sleep.
“I should go.” Alex moves away a few inches, but
Chris pulls him back again.
“Alex, sweetheart, stay with me. Let me hold you
tonight. Please. Come and lie down with me.” Chris
takes off her top.
Alex steals glances at her. “Are you sure?”
“Lie the fuck down with me. I’m not going to
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bite.” Chris strips down to her underwear and gets
under the cover. Alex gawps at the tiny piece of
garment on Chris. He peels off his shirt and jeans,
revealing a pair of boxers, and gets in. They face
each other.
“So, now you’ve met my mother and see what a
hot
mess
she
is…my
middle
name
is
embarrassment.” Chris grimaces.
“Come on. You haven’t met my family.” Alex
shudders.
“It’s hard to be worse than Annette.”
“She mentioned a job earlier?”
Chris tuts. “What job? She was a porn actress.
Who wants to see her looking like this now? She’s a
fucking joke.” The bitterness cuts through her
words.
“So, she encouraged you to be a child actor?”
“Encouraged is not the right word. How about
pushed? Forced? Cajoled?” Chris stalls for a
moment. “You’re giving me that ‘screwed-up freak’
look.”
“Sorry.”
Chris shrugs. “It’s fine. When you have a mum
like her, the only way is up!” Setting the bar low has
been Chris’s modus operandi. “Mum was a pretty
woman when she was young, y’know. The industry
fucked her up. Aren’t we stereotypes?” She exhales
and squeezes her eyelids to soothe the onset of a
headache.
Turning to her side, she pulls Alex’s arm across
her chest. “I’m cold. Hold me.”
Alex wraps himself around Chris and plants
feather-like kisses on her hairline, earlobe and neck.
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“Is this okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.” Chris has forgotten all about her troubles
and focuses on the sensation of Alex’s soft lips on
her skin.
They lie spooning each other.
“You’re the one who looks after her now, right?”
“A little. She always has a husband or boyfriend,
but they have all been spineless cunts.”
“My parents are alcoholics. My brother too. I can
feel your pain.” Alex treks down Chris’s soft,
hairless arm, his finger pads rough. Chris shivers
inside with the gentle touch and Alex’s light breaths
on her neck, dragging her fingers along Alex’s arm
in return, trying to make out the colours of the
tattoos in the dusk and caressing the skin and
muscles underneath, wondering what Alex’s
strength is capable of.
“Were you fierce when you boxed?”
“I had to be. I was pretty aggressive when I was in
the ring. I couldn’t show my emotions.”
“You’re the gentlest person I’ve met.” Chris
chuckles. “Granted, I have come across a lot of
scumbags.”
“Are you tired? It’s half past three. I can leave you
to it.”
“Don’t go. Let’s get some sleep.” Chris can feel
Alex’s erection, and she would have offered herself
to Alex out of habit. It’s expected of her, so like a
robot she usually has sex as a means of connecting
with people who ultimately all reject her. But she
doesn’t want to fuck Alex right now, as though to do
so will break a special bond between them. A
connection, a friendship.
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“Okay.” She drifts off to a restful sleep as she feels
Alex’s breaths on her cheek.
~~~
Chris kisses and gently massages Jeff’s back after
a hand job. He treats the older man like a pliant
dough and cleans him up with care.
“How has your week been, dear? Anything more
about the man you’ve been dating?” Jeff asks about
Chris’s love life every week but never keeps up.
Chris chuckles. “Well, the guy I’ve hooked up with
a couple of times has gone a bit creepy. So I don’t
think I’ll see him again.”
Chris rubs in divine-smelling geranium massage
oil. He has bought a whole set of these super-
expensive aromatherapy oils for Jeff because he
knows the older man loves these moments.
“How’s he a creep? I worry about you with the
weirdos out there”
Chris has had a fair share of bad dates and has
known Jeff long enough to have told him some of
the stuff he doesn’t talk about.
Chris shrugs. “He texted me way too often, as if
he’s my boyfriend or something.”
“Uh-huh. It was a long time ago when someone
stalked me! Are these stories real or do you make
them up to amuse me?”
Chris only laughs.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.” Chris sobers for a second. “Mum
turned up at my flat and embarrassed me,” he adds.
He has already told Jeff an abridged and sanitised
version of Annette and his childhood, which is more
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than he’s revealed to anyone else.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“The strange thing is…” Chris stalls for a few
seconds. “I slept with my new flatmate. You know,
the one who’s moved into Liam’s room?”
“Huh?” Jeff half turns his face but his voice is
muffled. “The big guy? What’s so strange about
that?”
Finishing off the massage, Chris wraps a big fluffy
towel around Jeff, helps him up and gives him a full
glass of water to drink. That’s the extent of ‘erotic
massage’ Chris can manage.
“I mean we slept, not fucked. We talked and
cuddled. He kissed me everywhere but my lips. Alex
is all muscles, but that night he was so gentle, so
tender.”
Jeff’s eyes widen, before he breaks into laughter.
“That is unusual, dearie. I didn’t think you’d ever
refrain from fucking the person you slept with.”
Chris giggles. “You’re implying I’m some kind of
nymphomaniac, aren’t you? I know I have a bad rep
for a high turnover of sexual partners, on and off
the clock. Just as well I don’t give a fuck.”
“You are who you are, Chris. Anyway, tell me
about this guy. He must be pretty special.”
“Oh, yes, Alex. This huge beast of a man. I drool
eve
ry time I see him. He was a famous boxer, but
something happened and he went to prison. He’s
just been released.” Chris shivers with the arousal,
remembering the strong arms and the tattoos and
how safe he’d felt in Alex’s embrace all night.
Jeff drinks some water and frowns. “Alex? Do you
know his second name?”
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“Whale. His nickname was Blue.”
“Oh my God! It was a huge story. I feel sorry for
him, killing his wife like that—”
“Stop!” Chris puts his hand up to interrupt the
older man.
Jeff gazes at him with a scowl. “You didn’t know?”
“I know the bare facts, but I told Alex I wouldn’t
try to find out about him, like from the internet or
something. I want to hear it from him.”
“Ah.” Jeff shifts a little in the seat. “I only
remember the media stories anyway. What do you
know?”
Chris tells him.
Jeff sighs. “Yeah, if my memory serves me right,
the other driver’s wife and two kids were injured.
The only person who came away with only a few
scratches was—”
“Alex.”
Jeff nods. Everything about Alex makes sense to
Chris now. Chris spaces out.
“You all right, dear?” Jeff lightly pats his hand.
“I…yeah, I’m fine.”
Jeff gazes intently at him. “You shared a bed with
him, you say. I assumed he was straight. I mean, he
had a wife. He was a boxing champion, after all. If
he wasn’t, everyone would know about it. What’s he
like?”
Chris shakes his head, trying to shake out the
confusing thoughts. “He is… I felt comfortable with
him. He’s so sweet. Annette said he was a tough
boxer, but I couldn’t see him like that. I don’t know.
Maybe he’s bi. I have no clue what we are exactly,
and I haven’t talked to him about it.”
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Jeff winds his arm around Chris. “Well,
something is going on in that pretty head of yours.
That’s for sure. Are you falling for this guy, hmm?
Just a little bit?”
Chris stares at Jeff wide-eyed. “I hardly know
him. He only moved in a few weeks ago.”
“Sometimes it takes no time for us to find
ourselves falling for someone. It’s called love at first
sight, dear.” Jeff squeezes Chris. “Someone who’s
lived through something like that is likely to be very
complicated, no? You need to take care of yourself.”
The older man considers Chris again.
A little spark of rare and precious emotion grows
