Jam Tops, the Fonz and the Pursuit of Cool

by Kris Lillyman

  “Oh Daisy,” slurred Nan, “how lovely!”

  “Are you off to a fancy dress?” Asked Grandad innocently.

  “Don’t be rude Sid, course she isn’t - she’s come to see Oddbod, haven’t you dear?”

  “Erm—” Daisy began, her face suddenly burning bright red and threatening to incinerate her freckles.

  “Jesus!” Interrupted Kev, “What the bloody hell happened to you? Looks like you got caught in an explosion in a knitting factory!”

  “Quiet Kevin!” Snapped Barb, “You look lovely dear, don’t listen to him—”

  “Yeah, you do, honestly,” agreed Izzie, who had adored Daisy when she was a little girl and always found her so much fun. “You look beautiful, really you do.”

  “Thanks,” smiled Daisy shyly, feeling embarrassed beyond belief as she scanned the faces dotted around the room and noticed that someone was missing.

  Izzie picked up on this immediately. “Have you come to see Gordy?”

  “Mmm hmm, yes,” Daisy nodded, utterly mortified.

  “Oh, he’s not here.”

  “He’s not?” Enquired Barb, unaware that her youngest son had left the house a few minutes earlier.

  “No, he’s gone out - you’ve literally just missed him.”

  “Never mind, deary, you stay here and have a sherry with us,” invited Nan, holding up an almost empty bottle of Bristol Cream. “You can try one of my homemade mince pies, too, if you like.”

  “Erm, no, thanks, Mrs. Lancaster, I’d better not,” replied Daisy before turning back to Izzie and saying, “Don’t suppose you know where he’s gone?”

  “No, sorry. He just sort of stomped off.”

  “Probably gone round to that weirdo Trevor’s,” offered Kev unhelpfully.

  “Ssh, Kev,” said Tracy, elbowing him in the ribs.

  “He’s not a weirdo at all, he’s a lovely sweet boy,” said Barb. “But, yes, that’s probably right - I bet he’s round at Trevor’s - although I’m pretty sure he was going to his in-laws for Christmas?” Barb looked puzzled for a moment then continued, “Oh well, I’m sure Gordon can’t have gone far, I expect he’ll be back in a minute.”

  “You can wait here if you like?” Said Alan, still not completely compos mentis and suffering terribly from an over dose of brussels sprouts, which his stomach loudly concurred with the moment he had finished speaking. “Oops, pardon me!” he added sheepishly.

  “Erm, no thanks, Mr. Brewer, I’d better not - wait for him I mean—”

  “Don’t be silly dear, of course you can,” chimed in Nan again. “The Queen’s on in a minute - you can watch it with us.”

  This was going extremely badly, why on earth had she come here? “No, really Mrs. Lancaster. Honestly, I have to get back but thanks anyway.”

  “Yes, leave her alone woman,” said Grandad, “she came here to see her boyfriend not you—”

  “Boyfriend?” Said Barb, Izzie and Kev simultaneously.

  “No, no - he’s not my boyf—” started Daisy defensively before Alan put in his three-penneth worth.

  “Always thought you two would end up together,” he said, “Never doubted for a moment that my boy was a whoopsie—”

  “Oh, be quiet Alan!” said Barb, rounding on her husband which was most out of character. “You said no such thing! Besides, what would it matter if he was?”

  “Well, I er, dunno, I mean, nothing I suppose, erm—” Alan floundered.

  “Anyway, it’s none of your business,” continued Barb, in a slightly more placatory tone before then turning to Daisy and seeing how deeply embarrassed she obviously was. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she said softly, “you take no notice of any of them. Now you’re welcome to stay here if you’d like but if you’d rather get off home then we’ll quite understand. I’ll tell Gordon you called, don’t worry—”

  “No!” Suddenly Daisy looked horrified, “Please don’t. Please, don’t say anything. I shouldn’t have come, I’m just being silly. Please just forget you ever saw me.”

  The tears were welling up in Daisy’s eyes and Barb’s heart went out to her, “Oh, sweetie, are you alright? What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, I just—” The lump in Daisy’s throat was preventing her from speaking.

  “It’s okay, darling, don’t worry. It’ll be—”

  As the first tears started to fall, Daisy looked into Barb Brewer’s eyes and saw deep compassion in them, she then glanced at Izzie and saw grave concern as Gordy’s sister’s heart broke for her.

  Daisy knew that if she stayed there a moment longer she would breakdown completely and she just couldn’t let that happen as she’d already made a big enough fool of herself as it was.

  In that moment, unable to take the humiliation any longer, she turned and ran for the front door, “I’m so sorry!” she wailed, “Really I am - sorry for spoiling your Christmas!”

  As the front door slammed shut behind her, everyone in the Brewer household stared blankly at each other in stunned silence, no one quite knowing what to say.

  But then, after a long moment, Nan broke the silence. “Well, strike me up a gum tree!” she said.

  ***

  The three bowls of trifle and two slices of lemon meringue were sitting heavily on Gordy’s stomach as he stomped off down the street heading for nowhere in particular.

  All he could think about was Daisy and how much he wished she was there in Bradley with him now instead of God knows where.

  He even walked by her old house on Glebe Avenue - number 23, Hippie-Central, passed where the Bible-bus used to be parked on the pot-holed, moss covered driveway. He paused for a moment outside, remembering the sight of Lynn Flynn’s boob as she lay stoned on the couch, recalling with a smile what a big-deal it had been for him then, his very first boob.

  The house had been smartened up now; the driveway block-paved and the pebbledash exterior stone clad in beige coloured tiles so that it looked nothing like the house Gordy had visited all those years ago.

  Anyway, he knew Daisy no longer lived there so it was pointless to even walk by but he was just in the mood to reminisce.

  He carried on walking but the streets were deserted; everyone tucked away inside in the warm, no doubt watching Moonraker which was what he should have been doing but he didn’t even feel in the mood for TV - which was unusual to say the least.

  The afternoon was crisp and cool, the threat of snow in the air but Gordy didn’t mind, he just turned up his collar, thrust his hands deeply into the pockets of his Levis and trudged on.

  After a while his stomach felt slightly less bloated so he thought he might find a place to sit down although he really hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going; just walking aimlessly with Daisy on his mind.

  He looked up to see that his legs had taken him to the local pleasure park where he and Daisy used to go as kids during the Summer of ‘77. He smiled at the irony; his subconscious was obviously working overtime.

  Gordy sat down on one of the swings, desperately trying to feel optimistic about the future, trying hard not to be jealous of his friends for being so happy but it was difficult. Indeed for the first time in his life he actually found himself envying his brother Kev. What the hell was the world coming to?

  How he wished his life was different.

  Sitting there on the swings, on Christmas Day afternoon, the happiest most festive day of the whole year, Gordy couldn’t have felt more unhappy.

  If only Daisy was there then everything would be better.

  ***

  Daisy thought she was hallucinating at first as her eyes were flooded with tears and making her contact lenses all blurry.

  She had been crying since leaving the Brewer house, weeping hopelessly for the stupidest of reasons - over a boy who she once knew, who clearly didn’t care about her.

 
It was utter madness. Her life was good; she had a great career; a brand new job and a fantastic new apartment just waiting for her in America. Nothing should be getting in the way of her happiness.

  So then why was it?

  Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Gordy bloody Brewer?

  It just wasn’t fair.

  Daisy knew now, of course, that she looked a complete shoot in her knitted, beaded, snowman-patterned ensemble, which she’d forgotten she was actually wearing until she arrived at Gordy’s house - and by then it was far too late, much to her complete humiliation.

  But now she didn’t care. So what. No one was about, the streets were empty. What did it matter? In a few days she would be in New York and no one from Bradley would ever see her again - especially not Gordy Brewer.

  So she headed to the pleasure park to clear her head and to allow herself to have a damn good cry without anyone paying her any mind. It would probably do her good.

  Although so far, all the tears she had shed over Gordy had done little to assuage him from her heart.

  Nonetheless, with the first few flakes of snow floating down from the full, white sky, she walked down the path and through the gates into the park, strolling up over the rise until she saw the swings.

  And then she stopped dead in her tracks.

  She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the hem of her poncho then blinked several times to make sure she wasn’t imagining things.

  But there was definitely no mistake.

  In front of her, with his head in his hands, sitting on the first swing in the row of six, was Gordy Brewer.

  The very person she had been thinking about.

  ***

  Gordy thought he heard somebody sniff but chose to ignore it, not wishing to see anyone at all. He couldn’t bear the thought of wishing anyone a ‘Merry Christmas’ when he felt so completely far from ‘merry’ himself.

  However, soon he became aware of somebody standing close to him and very slowly looked up to see a brightly coloured, very woolly vision before him.

  For a moment he thought his eyes were playing tricks, could it really be...?

  She was standing a few feet away, maybe ten or so, looking like a knitted rainbow, her eyes blotchy and tear-stained, her red hair shoved roughly under some God-awful beanie hat, but it was definitely her, Gordy was in absolutely no doubt.

  Daisy Flynn was there, in Bradley, right in front of him.

  “Blimey!” he said in a whisper, his voice full of wonder.

  The two of them stared at each other for a short time, both equally stunned at finding the other there. Daisy took a few deep breaths, trying to keep calm, willing her tears to dry. She was damned if she was going to let Gordy know that she had been crying over him.

  He, in turn, climbed to his feet, hardly able to believe she was standing there. It was amazing.

  “Hello, Daisy,” he said eventually.

  “Hi,” she sniffed haughtily.

  Are you okay?”

  “Course, why wouldn’t I be?” She sniffed again. Damn her runny nose, blast her puffy eyes.

  “No reason, you just look like you’ve been crying, that’s all.”

  “No! Course not. Just a cold.” Bugger!

  “I didn’t know that you were back here.” Gordy said, trying a different tack, he didn’t remember her ever being so prickly before.

  “Didn’t you?” She responded coolly, trying to keep her emotions in check.

  “No. I wish I had though.”

  “Do you?”

  Gordy detected a slight edge to her voice, giving him the first indication that she maybe wasn’t exactly delighted to see him.

  “It’s great to see you.”

  “Is it?”

  What was it with all the bloody questions, ‘didn’t you?’ ‘do you?’ ‘is it?’ - how about a ‘how are you?’ or better still, ‘I’ve missed you’. Would that be too much to ask?

  “Yes.” He said, simply.

  “Hmm, you surprise me.” Daisy was trying to keep an air of detachment in her voice, pretending that she couldn’t have cared less.

  “What do you mean—” Then suddenly it twigged. How stupid of him. Of course!

  “Listen, about Magaluf - I can explain—”

  “I bet you can!” Daisy finally snapped. “Well listen to me Gordy Brewer, I don’t care what you think of me or how you get your kicks - but what you did was bloody inexcusable and I’m not interested in your feeble explanations.”

  “But Daisy—”

  “No! Don’t ‘but Daisy’ me, you’re as bad as Steve bloody Cool - worse in fact - at least I knew he was a bastard before I slept with him!”

  “But I didn’t—” Gordy couldn’t get a word in edge ways.

  “I thought you were better than that - but clearly I was mistaken!” Daisy was angry and it felt strangely cathartic to vent, to tell Gordy exactly what she thought of him after months of keeping it pent up, of stewing over what had happened in Magaluf. “You’re a bastard, Gordy Brewer and I’m so bloody cross with you!”

  “Daisy - listen to me, please—”

  “I’m bloody fuming!” She was, too. Steam was all but coming out of her ears, her face red and angry. Christ he made her mad!

  “Okay! Have you finished now? Can I just say something in my defence - or are you just going to keep banging on at me?”

  “What?” She said finally. “Tell me, what is it you’ve got to say?”

  “Simply this,” began Gordy. “I know you think I’m a bastard - think that I left you in the lurch, but it wasn’t like that—”

  “How was it then?” She demanded.

  “Well if you just listen, I’ll tell you,” he replied, now sounding equally antagonised.

  “Fine. So tell me then.”

  “I did leave you, yes.” Gordy admitted. “I left you because I woke up in that bed in Magaluf and realised that my bus back to the airport - for my flight back to the UK - was leaving in less than an hour. I tried to find you - I ran all over that bloody apartment block, upstairs and downstairs, but you’d just bloody vanished. I waited as long as I possibly could, tried to find something with which to write you a note - to explain - but there was nothing. Eventually I just couldn’t wait any longer, I had to go otherwise I’d miss my flight.

  “All the way home I fretted about you - all the way! Even when I got back - for weeks - I tried to track you down - rang around all the travel agents, the Spanish Embassy, umpteen bars in Lloret de Mar - tried bloody everything short of going back to Spain to find you - and I would’ve done that, too, if only I had the bloody money! It’s been driving me mad - knowing that you’d hate me - thinking that I’d never see you again - I even came back to Bradley this Christmas in the vein bloody hope that I might see you again!”

  “Gosh.” Daisy said with astonishment, her heart beating a little faster. So he did care about her after all.

  Suddenly she was quiet as the implications of what he’d said slowly registered. She was shocked. Questions were flooding her brain but all she could think to say was, “What do you mean, ‘back to Bradley’? Where have you been then?”

  Gordy felt exhausted. “I live in London now, I’ve got a job there - a pretty shit one as it happens - but that’s by the by. Anyway, I moved there a few weeks after I came back from Magaluf - but I never stopped thinking about you Daisy, I promise.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. Not for a minute. I just didn’t think I’d get to see you again - never thought I’d get to tell you.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly Daisy felt extremely guilty. But she was pleased, too. As Gordy was speaking a warm feeling filled her stomach; an excited, happy feeling that made her want to smile - to laugh - to shout out loud.

  “I’m glad you have told me,” she said quietly, a grin forming on her
pretty face, “I’ve never stopped thinking about you either - even after Lloret - and all the time I was in Manchester—”

  “Manchester?”

  “Yeah - it’s a long story - but all the while I was there I never stopped thinking, never stopped wondering. But now you’ve told me what happened—”

  “No, wait,” interrupted Gordy. “That’s not what I wanted to tell you - well, it is, yes, sort of anyway, but I wanted to tell you something else - something that I’ve been promising myself I would tell you if I ever got the chance to see you again - regardless of what happens.”

  “Oh?” She said, a little taken aback.

  “Yeah.”

  “What? What do you want to tell me? Daisy held her breath, her heart beating ten to the dozen.

  Gordy looked at her and smiled wryly, taking in the full glorious sight of her as she stood there before him in the corded beanie hat, the preposterous poncho, carved African beads and patterned pyjamas - all finished off by the fluffy pink slippers. To him she had never looked more lovely. It didn’t matter that she didn’t look cool, or that she wasn’t wearing the best designer jeans or the trendiest leather jacket.

  She was simply Daisy and that made her just perfect exactly as she was.

  In truth, he hadn’t actually promised himself he’d say anything to her if he ever saw her again, at least not consciously, but now it just seemed to make sense. It was obvious - as if he’d known it for years - even when they were kids.

  And it was something he didn’t doubt for another moment.

  “I love you,” Gordy said. “I think I always have.”

  Daisy could feel the tears building again and, as if on cue, they spilt down her cheeks and she started to cry - but this time they were tears of joy. “You do?”

  “Mmm hmm” he smiled.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Well, in that case,” she said, with a huge, happy grin on her tear-stained face, “You’d better know that I love you, too.”

  “Blimey!” Gordy said, as the snow fell steadily around them.

  “Yeah, I know - although I’m not sure ‘blimey’ exactly covers it.” Daisy beamed.