by S M Mala
‘I thought you said you never saw her in Brighton,’ Ed asked, a little startled by the comment but trying to hide it.
‘I know you asked about her a few times,’ shrugged his friend. ‘But you had other things on your mind with the twins so I never said.’
‘The woman obviously did something to upset you,’ said Harry and Ed noticed he was giving Lee a quizzical glance. ‘Anything worth knowing?’
‘She’s a cock tease,’ Lee replied bluntly. ‘Flora Almeida gave me the come on and I didn’t bite. In fact, I didn’t want to touch it.’
He couldn’t fathom out how he felt but Ed knew that Lee fancied the arse off her.
‘Why didn’t you say before, mate?’ Ed said quietly. ‘I know she can be a bit off sometimes.’
‘Can we change the subject?’ Lee bluntly said and Ed knew he was getting angry as a red rash had broken out on his neck. They knew since school if that happened, just to give him space. ‘You said she had cancer. She survived then.’
‘Yes she did.’
‘And she moved back west?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where?’
‘Does it matter if you dislike her so much?’ replied Ed, watching Harry smirk to himself before drinking his beer. ‘I doubt you’ll bump into her.’
‘But you don’t mind, do you?’ Lee said with a slight hint of sarcasm. ‘You two got on, isn’t that so?’
‘I liked her.’
‘Just liked?’
Suddenly it was like when they were younger, the competition between the pair. Even though Ed was with someone and had children, there was a competitive nature in Lee that wound him up. Always wanting to be bigger and better.
Lee never was.
‘You know what?’ Harry said, interrupting the stony silence. ‘I’m starving. Can we order some food?’
After a half an hour, Lee chilled out again but Ed knew something happened with Flora. He didn’t want to corner his friend and accuse him of being a deceitful bastard after all these years but it bugged him.
Around ten in the evening, they were pissed and happy. Ed and Harry were putting Lee into a cab.
‘Don’t talk to her,’ Lee slurred. ‘She’s a fucking bitch.’
‘Who is?’ laughed Ed, trying to fasten his friend’s seat belt.
‘Flora. Don’t ask her about me. She’ll just lie.’
‘What’s there to lie about?’
‘Everything.’
Waving the cab away, Ed and Harry stood on Fulham Broadway, watching it.
‘He did something,’ Harry said, his smile fading. ‘And he knew where she was and never said.’
‘That was years ago. It doesn’t matter.’
‘You’re telling me you weren’t shocked to find out that your best mate, at the time, forgot to tell you about bumping into someone you cared about.’
‘He never knew. I never said. I couldn’t, could I? The same day Diane comes round and tells my good old fashioned catholic parents she’s pregnant. She knew my parents would make me stick with her and I had to make a decision.’
‘It was no decision.’ Harry smiled at Ed. ‘You were being a good young man and stuck by your children.’
Feeling very drunk, he dragged Harry down the road towards his house. It was a warm night but the air smelt of stale oil. The restaurants and bars were in full swing.
‘It was only one night. It didn’t matter,’ Ed shrugged. ‘You can’t make a decision on who you care about based on sixteen hours of your life.’
‘You counted,’ smiled Harry, staggering into Ed and nearly falling into a young snogging couple. ‘I think that says it all, don’t you?’
‘It was twenty five years ago. We’ve both changed so much.’
‘I wonder if your feelings have, aye?’
‘That’s a lovely banana,’
… Flora said to Paulette during one of the classes. ‘I love the vibrancy of the yellow.’
‘It’s a boat but actually it’s something far more spiritual,’ replied Paulette, deadpan. ‘You’re not a very good art teacher if you can’t tell what it is.’
‘Really? Are you sure? How spiritual can fruit get?’
‘You’re supposed to be giving us confidence, not criticising our art.’
‘It’s a banana boat, isn’t it?’ she whispered, trying not to laugh at the smiling face of the woman. ‘Personally, I think if you were in a boat like that, you’d sort of drown.’
Paulette was a big black lady, in her late fifties, who had suffered from cancer for many years. She was just over five foot with a large laugh and an enormous kind heart. When Flora was coming to terms with her diagnosis, it was Paulette who put her straight on what would happen to her and her body.
She wasn’t far wrong.
Paulette’s description of the vomiting and intense feeling of pain while throwing up was perfect. Every time Flora had been sick she tried not to laugh at the woman telling her not to pee or shit herself at the same time, but it happened.
The only thing Paulette didn’t tell her that one side effect would be a husband walking out.
Paulette was furious and purposely kicked Matias when he turned up at the centre unexpectedly, saying it was an accident due to an involuntary spasm. Flora bought her dinner just based on the expression on Matias’s face.
They had become friends over the past four years and Flora knew Paulette’s cancer had returned, but this time in her lungs. She was doing another round of chemo and her head was covered in a vibrant green scarf though the hair was growing back.
This is when Flora understood the fear of finding out too much about someone’s illness.
It was also very hard to deal with, being told who had passed away, especially if they had been part of her haphazard art class.
Flora stared at the painting and grinned.
‘My mother said she came over in a boat,’ said Paulette loudly. ‘Might have been a banana boat so this must be her talking to me from the other side.’
‘Hackney is not the other side and she’s still alive,’ sighed Flora. ‘It’s East London.’
‘Same thing.’ Then Paulette did it, her touching her forehead and pretending she was getting some sort of message. ‘I can see something.’
‘A pile of custard on your paper?’
‘You!’ she said pointing a finger. ‘Things are about to change.’
‘Don’t do this bullshit,’ Flora said, shaking her head. ‘You are psychotic not psychic.’
‘People didn’t believe in Jesus Christ,’ she said with a grin.
‘And no, you can’t turn water into wine but I take it you’d give it a good try. Come on, tell me your vision.’
‘I can see pizza, yes, pizza. Or is it a pie or pudding? It’s gone cold but it’s not. It’s warm, very hot indeed.
‘Are you hungry?’ Flora whispered seeing Paulette grin broadly.
‘And a wooden box.’
‘I get it,’ laughed Flora. ‘If I eat too many pizzas, pies and puddings it will put me in an early grave.’
‘Oh, it’s small and hidden.’
‘You know what? You’re as bananas as that painting.’
‘It’s spiritual,’ replied Paulette with a smirk. ‘Love is alive and burning in your heart.’
‘I take it you mean indigestion,’ she said, trying to ignore the woman who was aiming to read her palm.
Flora slapped her gently away, shoving her hands into her pockets.
Looking around her class, she noticed they were concentrating on their still lives or painting from the top of their head. It was a class that could be peaceful as well as riotous, depending on the mood. One person today was intent on making it loud.
A bereavement would always cause them to be subdued.
That’s when it was painful for everyone.
Knowing that it could happened to anyone of the cancer patients. Sometimes the whole experience was rough.
But it was life.
Or death.
<
br /> Depending on the outcome.
‘How are you?’ Paulette asked, turning to look up at Flora. ‘You seem well.’
‘Shouldn’t I be?’
‘That damn rass man of a husband is in your home, isn’t he?’
‘He’s been a pain in the arse for a fortnight,’ she sighed, sitting down next to her. ‘Telling people what to do, looking at me as if I’m going to suddenly say ‘it’s alright that you let me down. But after a good bit of building work all is forgiven’. Like hell I am!’ Then she hesitated. ‘And one of the contractors is someone I used to go to school with. Small world.’ Flora sat there knowing today she may or may not bump into Ed. ‘Five weeks to go and then the place is free of Matias’s interference.’
‘Why did you just go red?’ asked Paulette pulling a confused expression. ‘I’m telling you, something’s going on.’
‘No I didn’t.’
‘Yes you did! You went red when you mentioned the contractor.’
‘Oh,’ replied Flora, not feeling any change on her face.
‘And you had an odd expression and… uh uh! You fancy this contractor? He likes pizza, does he?’ Paulette started to laugh as some of the class looked over. ‘You like a bit of rough?’
‘He’s not rough,’ she said, getting to her feet so quickly, she nearly knocked the chair to the ground.
‘Cross my palm with gold and I’ll see into the future.’
‘I thought it was silver?’
‘Inflation.’
‘Go paint your banana boat and leave me alone.’
‘Flora wants a fancy man,’ teased Paulette. ‘You need a man, you know that and so I do. And I see one on the horizon.’
‘I can’t,’ she mumbled before going to speak to someone sensible, only to find every time she looked up, Paulette was grinning at her. ‘Why are you smiling?’
‘I see things.’
‘There’s really nothing to see.’
After she’d finished her sessions for the day and sorted out some paperwork, Flora walked back home and felt a little odd about seeing Ed again. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say and how to act. But given she allegedly blushed, Flora knew she’d have to play it cool.
Walking into her home, it was nearly quarter to three and she’d have to leave in fifteen minutes to pick up Max.
The house was empty.
In the past fortnight they were clearing up around three and some of them were there when she got back before the school run.
The builders had been in, it was evident but no-one was around. There was a stack of wood in the corner for the new flooring and lots of packages wrapped in cellophane.
Suddenly she felt disappointed and wondered if he was doing it to avoid her then she shook her head.
‘Efficient,’ she said to herself, walking over to the kettle and switching it on.
Then she noticed a schedule of works on the counter. It outlined what was to be done every day, down to sanding. She could see the plan was four weeks and three days, not including weekends. There was a logo on the top right hand and she noticed his initials at the bottom.
‘Very efficient,’ Flora mumbled, making a cup of tea.
Lifting up the paper she noticed a business card.
It was Ed’s.
He’d written something on the back.
‘Flora, call me if there are any queries. Ed’
‘The only thing I’d like to know is why you abandoned me,’ she said to herself, holding the card to her chest before throwing across the kitchen counter. ‘Because you’re a man, that’s why.’
‘Oh god, you turn me on,’
… groaned Emily as he slowly made love to her. They were in his bed after going out to dinner and he was feeling very horny. ‘I’m going to come!’
He went faster, gently stroking her incredibly firm breasts, knowing she had them surgically enhanced but they looked and felt good. Emily’s skin was milky white as she didn’t tan well and her body was taut and smooth.
Repositioning himself, he pushed in deeper, gently rocking his hips while placing her leg on his shoulder. The thing about making love to someone younger, he thought, they could adapt their body easily. They had the suppleness an older woman lacked.
Not that he’d slept with anyone over the age of thirty for the past fifteen years.
He picked up speed, hearing her groan then pant before he closed his eyes and let the orgasm rip through his body.
Then Flora came into his head and he was shocked at the vision.
It wasn’t her as a nubile teenager but her standing at the door, looking at him.
He quickly withdrew, holding onto the condom to check it hadn’t fallen off.
‘Hey, are you okay?’ Emily asked, stroking his face. ‘Why did you pull away so quickly?’
‘Cramp in my thigh,’ he replied, smiling at her. ‘Phew! You’re hot, do you know that?’
‘So are you.’
Ed kissed her gently before getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom. He pulled off the condom and wrapped it in toilet tissue before throwing it into the bin then took a shower.
He’d been in Flora’s house for a whole week and made sure he didn’t bump into her. Still he was pissed off with Lee for not saying he’d seen her all those years back but, then again, she probably didn’t want to see him if she heard he’d knocked up his older lover.
Always it toyed in his mind what Flora would have done. Had he gone to the pub and told her, he wondered if she’d have just walked away or stood by him.
It was an impossible thing to ask a nineteen year old, let alone the eighteen year old father.
Ed was sure by not turning up, he was leading her to a better life.
Without him.
Thing is, it crossed his mind from time to time how she was, what she was doing and if she was happy.
That’s all Flora ever wanted was to be happy.
And he knew, right now, she probably wasn’t.
Then he thought about the cancer and closed his eyes, thinking about his mother, knowing the tests were coming through that week and he’d have to be strong. Immediately, he started to get upset.
He couldn’t go through another death in the family, especially not his mum.
‘Flora,’ he said quietly.
If things had been different, she might not have survived.
Then he’d never have had a chance to see her again.
‘Are you okay?’ Emily asked, stepping into the shower and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
‘Fine.’
This he knew to be far from the truth.
‘I mean it Max,’
… Flora said, leading him to the restaurant. ‘Good behaviour and no fussing about the food.’
‘Okay,’ he said as she squeezed his hand and smiled down at him.
Today he was wearing a Jimmy Hendrix t-shirt and a pair of shorts. With his overgrown dark hair, he looked like a mini skateboarder. Then she caught a glimpse of his scarred knees knowing the kid couldn’t even balance on his own feet.
Lola was walking on the other side, wearing jeans and a t-shirt along with an oversized cardigan. She was getting to the age where she was self-conscious of her little lumps which Flora was expected to cover in a teen bra. After a heated debate, she backed down and bought her daughter one, seeing it was like a sports bra but with no room for growth.
‘Mum, when are they going to finish the place?’ asked Max, his face all scrunched up. ‘It’s horrible.’
‘I think it looks nice,’ Lola said. ‘We have big windows onto the garden and there’s so much light.’
‘All we’re looking at is weeds and rubble,’ he groaned.
‘Mum will sort that out, won’t you? We’ll have a lovely space.’
‘Yeah,’ Flora said, knowing she hated gardening with all her heart. ‘We can work on it as a team.’
‘I don’t want to,’ moaned Max. ‘Oh mum, why can’t I play PlayStation when I come home f
rom school?’
‘Is that all you think about?’ said his sister, looking pissed off. ‘There are other things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like books and playing with your toys, which you have loads of.’
‘All you think about is boys. I know! I heard you talking to your friend about it.’
‘Max, no eavesdropping,’ Flora said, looking down at her son. ‘When Lola’s on the phone, it’s private.’
‘She’s got a big mouth,’ he sniggered. ‘And so has that boy she likes. What’s his name? Jay?’
‘Mum!’ Lola said, now getting angry and red. ‘Can you tell him?’
‘You go in and I’ll have a quick word.’
She waited for her daughter to walk into the restaurant before turning to Max.
‘Sorry,’ he said, looking guiltily at her. ‘I just listened because I was bored.’
‘What have I told you?’ she whispered, leaning closer. ‘If you hear things, come and tell me, don’t tell her, okay?’
‘But that means you’re being an eavesdropper.’
‘It means I’m making sure my child is safe from the paws of sticky little boys, that’s what it is. Now go in and be good. Please don’t wind Lola up. You know she’ll be in a strop for ages.’
‘Alright.’
They walked into Mario’s and Gaynor was already there with her sons. Two teenagers. Cory, fourteen, and Body, sixteen, were good looking boys. Gaynor ended up marrying a footballer, much to the horror of Priti and Flora as their friend hated sport, producing these mixed raced beauties.
The problem with marrying a sportsman was that there was no disguising it, their ability to stay faithful was limited and it seems so was her husband’s. They divorced before the kids reached their teenage years and Gaynor got a massive payout.
Once again, to the surprise of Priti and Flora, Gaynor decided she wanted to open an estates agents and did so. For the past five years she had built the business and was successful.
‘Look at you!’ shouted out Gaynor, standing up. Flora checked she’d ordered the wine. ‘Priti’s parking the car.’
Flora then saw Priti’s seventeen year old daughter, Isabel, walk out of the ladies toilets.
‘Hello Flora,’ she said very politely, brushing her lips against the side of her cheek.
