Gordy realised his reaction was irrational, after all he hadn’t seen Daisy in years, yet somehow this news hit him like a bolt from the blue.
“But what?” He said at last.
Daisy looked at him and snivelled and he gently wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Has he hurt you?” He asked softly.
She sniffed and took a deep breath, determined not to cry over Steve Cool any more. “Only my pride,” she said finally. “You’re right, he is a bastard - and I knew it all along but I just fell for him hook, line and sinker. But he only wanted me for one thing - and when he finally got it, he dumped me.”
“Christ, Daisy—”
“That’s not the worst of it, unfortunately. I told you that he came here with me - on a boat trip from Lloret, just for the weekend?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Well, I thought it was going to be some sort of romantic getaway - thought we were going to spend the weekend together. But I was just back-up apparently, just in case he didn’t get off with anyone else. Anyway, as it turned out, he did. I caught him last night, red-handed. He was with my so-called best-friend.”
“Bloody hell! What a bastard!”
“I know. Luckily I made friends with a couple of really lovely girls and they’ve looked after me ever since - until tonight - when I saw you.”
“Blimey, Daisy, I’m sorry - I had no idea.”
“S’okay, it’s not your fault and besides, I’m so pleased you’re here.”
“Yeah, me too - it’s great to see you Daze - it really is. I’ve thought about you loads over the years.”
“You have?”
“Yeah.”
“Me, too. I’ve thought about you, I mean. Lots.”
Suddenly the mood seemed to shift between them and it became something different. Something deeper.
Gordy looked into Daisy’s eyes and for a moment he thought he could have kissed her. Then he realised he was covered in sick and poo and probably smelled far worse than he would have liked, and in the second that he took to think about it, the moment slipped away.
“I’m glad I’ve seen you,” he said, instantly lightening the mood, “Cos up until a few minutes ago, I thought I’d had the worst weekend possible. Knowing yours was worse has cheered me up no end!”
Daisy laughed and punched him playfully, “Yeah, I bet it has!”
Strangely, Gordy looked terrible; sunburnt, smelly and wearing a ridiculous outfit, yet he didn’t feel embarrassed or self-conscious about it, not with Daisy. Somehow being with her just seemed natural.
“I mean, have you seen what I look like?” He said, mocking his ludicrous appearance.
Daisy couldn’t help but giggle. “I know - what is it with these Desert Rats T-shirts anyway?”
“Don’t ask - suffice to say I definitely won’t be wearing it again after tonight! By the way, I take it you saw what happened in that bloody God awful bar - with me up on that bull?”
Daisy was in fits, “Well, I didn’t quite see it all.”
“No? Then you’re lucky. I threw up all over some poor unsuspecting people - soaked ‘em in spew, the poor sods!”
“Don’t feel too sorry for them.”
“Why, what do you mean?” Gordy asked smiling, Daisy’s tinkly little laugh incredibly infectious.
“You didn’t just throw up over anyone, Gordy—” Daisy could barely contain her laughter now, “—You threw up all over Steve Cool and my slaggy best friend - it couldn’t happen to a nicer couple!”
She collapsed into hysterics as Gordy looked at her dumbstruck. Then he, too, started to chuckle which very soon turned into a loud guffaw as the pair of them fell about in fits of uncontrollable laughter.
***
Before too long they arrived back at the apartment block, but just as they were walking through the gates Daisy froze and then, almost immediately, dragged Gordy behind the thick concrete column of the gate post and pushed herself against him, so that both were hidden from view.
“What the—” Gordy started to say but he was silenced by Daisy.
“Ssh! Be quiet,” she whispered, “Steve Cool’s coming this way with Loz!”
“Who’s Loz?”
“Ssh! Loz - my ex-best friend - the one who slept with Steve!”
“Oh, right,” Gordy breathed as Daisy pinned him in the shadows.
He could now hear footsteps and raised voices.
Then he saw the two of them; their hair was wet and they were wearing clean clothes - both having just showered if Gordy guessed correctly.
Steve Cool clearly wasn’t happy about something - hardly surprising, Gordy thought, certain that he wouldn’t be too chuffed either if he had been sprayed with somebody else’s vomit.
They were arguing.
It seemed Loz wanted him to stay with her at the apartment block but Steve was telling her that their fling was over. “It was just a one night stand - don’t you get it?” He was saying - being his normal thoroughly ungallant self.
What a charmer, thought Gordy.
“Yeah, but I thought we might, you know - do it again tonight,” replied Loz.
“Yeah, well you were wrong then, weren’t you!” Steve snapped as the pair of them stomped past the gate post oblivious to the presence of Gordy and Daisy.
What a complete prat, Daisy thought, overhearing their conversation whilst pressing herself against Gordy.
She could feel his heart beating, thumping against her breast, and as she looked up at him she was suddenly deaf to the sound of her bastard ex-boyfriend and her former best friend. All she could think about was Gordy and how close he was to her.
Neither of them looked their best but being with him just seemed completely right somehow. Why on earth had she been wasting her time with Steve Cool when she should have been having fun with Gordy? If only she had known earlier that he was in Magaluf.
However, Gordy’s attention was presently on Steve and Loz, as he concentrated on not being seen. But Daisy no longer cared about them as she studied the boy from Bailey’s Bandstand who had now grown into a man.
Yes, he was sunburnt. Yes, he was smelly and yes, he was wearing a hideous outfit covered in all manner of unpleasantness, but underneath all that, she saw something more.
She had always thought him attractive, even when he was chubby and wore glasses, but now he had matured and under the sunburn she could tell he was really good-looking. As she pushed herself against him, he felt firm, too (or at least firm-ish). His body had developed and become more muscular, his chest felt hard - although not like a body builder’s - but nice, not too flabby. In fact, just right.
Her face was close to his neck and suddenly she had an overwhelming desire to kiss it. She puckered her lips and closed her eyes but before making contact Gordy grabbed her hand and snapped her out of her trance.
“C’mon, they’ve gone now,” he said, unaware of just how close he had come to being kissed, “The coast’s clear.”
“Oh, yeah, great. Okay,” she said pulling away from him and leaving a damp, boob-shaped imprint on his T-shirt, like a couple of chocolate headlamps.
“Right, so lead the way - where’s this apartment of yours?”
“Erm, the apartment, right - yes, over here. This way?”
“You okay, Daze?” Gordy said, a little concerned, “It didn’t bother you did it, seeing those two I mean? It didn’t upset you?”
Daisy smiled and squeezed his hand. “No,” she said truthfully, “It didn’t bother me one little bit.”
Then she led him to her apartment.
***
With Gordy’s need being greater than hers, he jumped in the shower whilst Daisy popped next door to retrieve her bag from Mandy and Tricia’s apartment using the master key she had been given.
When she got back she carefully
collected Gordy’s filthy clothes, which she had told him to leave outside the bathroom door, and threw them into the washer/dryer.
Next she peeled off Tricia’s vodka, chocolate and mascara covered dress and left it in the kitchen - she would wash it after Gordy’s stuff, not wishing his T-shirt and stripy shorts to run all over the white fabric of the dress - nor any of the puke or poo for that matter.
When she’d done that, she wiped herself down and slipped a T-shirt on to cover her modesty.
Then, when Gordy emerged, wrapped in a thick, white towel, she passed him her toothbrush and toothpaste. “Go on,” she said, “It’ll make you feel much better.”
“You sure?”
“Positive - I’d rather have you smelling minty fresh.”
“Yeah, me too. Thanks.”
After Gordy had brushed his teeth thoroughly, Daisy nipped into the shower to wash off all the sticky remnants of the chocolate which still clung to her boobs, being careful not to get her auburn locks wet for fear of it sprouting into a ginger shrubbery as it dried.
Five minutes later she, too, emerged wrapped in a white fluffy towel, with her hair tied in a long pony-tail.
Gordy was sitting on the bed facing her; his chest and stomach bright red as were his legs - or at least what she could see of them.
“Does that hurt?” She asked sympathetically.
“A bit, yeah. It’s not as bad as it was.”
“I’ve got After Sun if you’d like some? Might soothe it a bit.”
“Great, yeah, thanks - if that’s alright?”
“Course it is, silly - I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t.” She went to her bag and rummaged through it before pulling out a large bottle of After Sun cream.
“Here,” she said, handing it to Gordy.
Taking it from her, he popped open the lid and squirted a blob of the white cream into the palm of his hand, then dabbed a bit on his burnt chest, wincing as he did so.
Daisy laughed. “Come here, you big baby, give it to me.”
Gordy meekly handed back the bottle.
“Go on, lie down - I’ll rub it in,” Daisy ordered and he immediately obeyed.
He lay on his back with his head on the pillow, the towel tied loosely around his waist. Daisy walked around to the other side of the bed and clambered up onto it then squeezed a great big dollop of the cold After Sun into her hand.
Very gently she applied it to his chest and carefully started to soothe it in. “Ouch!” he said.
“Oh, ssh.” She admonished.
Daisy worked in silence, being careful not to be too rough. She started with the arm nearest to her, smoothing the cream over his forearm and then up onto his bicep and shoulder. Gordy watched transfixed by her, enjoying the feeling of her touch on his skin, even though the cream was cold and made the sunburn tingle a little before cooling it.
She worked slowly, sensuously, massaging his reddened skin with delicate strokes, enjoying the closeness of him and the unexpected intimacy.
Suddenly the atmosphere became charged, bristling with a frisson of sexual tension, nothing was said but both of them sensed it.
And neither wanted to stop.
Daisy worked the cream into Gordy’s hairy chest - not a thick pelt but a nice soft covering which appealed to her; her soft fingertips soothing and stroking, her movements becoming more purposeful, more erotic with each passing second.
As her hand moved over his stomach, she leaned in closer to him so that he could now feel her breath on his face and when her hand passed his navel there was no way Gordy could hide his arousal any longer, which Daisy couldn’t help but notice.
She looked at him and smiled, her nose just an inch from his as she looked into his deep brown eyes and recognised the desire that was mirrored in her own.
A second later, their lips touched and as they kissed it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
As did what happened afterwards.
It was as if it was meant to be.
***
Daisy couldn’t help but marvel at how different it had been with Gordy than it had been with Steve; so much more enjoyable, so much more sensuous and intense. More romantic.
It wasn’t that it lasted any longer or that Gordy was any more skilful, in fact possibly the opposite, but it just felt right.
Actually, it felt perfect.
Afterwards they talked for ages. Daisy told Gordy all about her travels; where she’d been, what she’d done and how she ended up in Lloret de Mar. She told him about her writing, too, which he was very impressed by and encouraged her to keep it up.
Gordy, in turn, told her about his life - his dull job, his dull friends and how he wished that he was still in touch with Trevor.
Daisy suggested that Gordy should perhaps make the effort to go and see him when he got back to Bradley - get reacquainted with him - as it was clear to her that Gordy was in a bit of rut and had lost his way a little - especially hanging out with The Desert Rats who, by all accounts, seemed to be a very nice bunch of lads but appeared to have little in common with Gordy.
Daisy was delighted to hear about Frazer, too - about how he’d settled down and become a father. “I bet it really suits him,” she said fondly.
“Yeah, it does,” Gordy smiled, thinking of little Spike, Frazer’s new baby boy.
After a while, Daisy and Gordy got onto the subject of Bailey’s Bandstand and music in general. They talked animatedly about the different bands they had seen and what records they had bought. Daisy’s knowledge was still remarkable - wide and varied - it was hard to comprehend that for most of the last seven years she had been stuck in the most remote parts of Africa, such was the breadth of her knowledge. No wonder she’s so good at writing about it, Gordy thought.
She seemed to know everything but Gordy managed to hold his own. He was passionate about music, too - which was mostly down to Daisy’s guidance all those years ago. He now had a huge record collection; his taste extensive and eclectic - with no longer any place for the likes of Little Jimmy Osmond or Lieutenant Pigeon.
“Hey,” she said, in passing, “You ought to look for a job in the music industry if you’re not happy with what you’re doing now - I bet you’d love it.”
Gordy had never considered it before but it did sort of make sense. Why not do something he loved? Daisy clearly was - and good for her.
Gordy loved soul and funk and jazz and ska - he had even been a mod for a while - with a scooter no less - whip aerial, mirrors, the lot - and in that time had got into R&B and Northern Soul. Daisy was amazed to hear that he’d been to umpteen ‘all-nighters’ and was so jealous.
“Wow!” She said.
He went onto tell her that he’d eventually sold his scooter, and as the mod movement past by, moved on to the next hip and happening style in constant pursuit of the coolest trends.
From New Romantics through to Miami Vice and loads more in between.
Then somehow he wound up with Bangers, Bubble and the lads and from being the coolest kid on the block he turned into a drinking, nightclubbing, Jack the Lad.
But it wasn’t him.
Deep down, Gordy was still the comic collecting, musical loving, TV watching nerd that he had always been - he had just managed to hide it successfully from most people - including himself for a short while.
Laying there on the bed, he confessed all this to Daisy and found it strangely cathartic.
Her heart went out to him. He was clearly lost and in a way she was too.
She had roamed the world, or a good portion of it, for so many years that she felt almost rootless. Bradley was the nearest thing to a proper home she’d ever had, but she hadn’t really lived there for long.
One thing was for certain though, she hated Spain or, more accurately, Lloret - especially now, after all that had happened with St
eve. She couldn’t wait to get back to England, but for the time being that wasn’t possible as money just didn’t allow.
It was almost dawn and Gordy was fighting to stay awake now. However, as his eyelids drooped, he said that he wished he had some money left to buy her a plane ticket home but sadly he had spent it all on this two week holiday from hell.
“It doesn’t matter,” Daisy yawned, “I’ll have enough saved up to get back to England before too long - did I tell you I’m coming home for Christmas, to meet up with Mum and Dad - and now you, of course?”
But there was no reply.
“Gordy?”
Still nothing.
Daisy turned her head and looked at him lying beside her. He was fast asleep, out for the count. Completely zonked.
He obviously hadn’t heard a word she’d said, but it didn’t matter, she would tell him again later, when he woke up - hopefully it would be a nice surprise for him. Already she could picture them both having a wonderful Christmas together in Bradley.
How absolutely perfect.
Daisy yawned again and snuggled up next to Gordy, then, as the sun came up over the calm Mediterranean, which was visible through the open french windows, she, too, drifted off into a deep, contented sleep.
***
Daisy roused just after ten, desperately thirsty after a night of drinking, crying, laughing and talking (plus an extremely pleasant interlude in between).
She climbed out of bed and ambled over to the kitchen, leaving Gordy fast asleep under the single sheet they had covered themselves with, just to keep off the morning chill. She opened the fridge but it was empty. Naturally.
Yet she needed a drink, badly.
After emptying the washer/dryer and folding Gordy’s now pristine T-shirt and shorts neatly, leaving them on the kitchen worktop, she threw in the white dress and switched the machine back on. Then she pulled on a T-Shirt and a pair of cut-offs - taken from her travel bag - and slipped on her flip-flops.
Jam Tops, the Fonz and the Pursuit of Cool Page 25
