by Nia Lucas
A flutter in my chest, I nod and he closes the gap. His lips are gentle and my hand clutches in his hair as the kiss is soft and unhurried, feeling somehow safe and soothing. I get a twinge of loss when Nico pulls back, his forehead on mine, his eyes closed.
I take a breath, going for light-hearted approach, “Right then, I'll see you soon D'Angelo, I'm hard to miss with all this hair plus I'm a total pain in the arse”
He opens his eyes, smirking, “Yeah, see you soon Davies. I'm hard to miss too, looking this good. I used to be a pain in the arse but I'm fucking reforming”, he winks at me and turning on his heel, heads off up the road, hands thrust into pockets. With a sigh, I head up the road and back home.
Bye Nico.
Chapter Five
27th March 1995
I arrive in the classroom after my usual pre-school run and I observe wary glances and unexpected retreats by my hostile peers. I smile. Lee and Shay properly scared you bunch of twats. I grin through the entire morning. Exam timetables are disseminated confirming that I do indeed finish before the date of Luca’s festival, a massive relief quite frankly.
Upon my return home, I call Han who’s full of apology for her previous assessment of Nico,who she now appears to view as some sort of tortured Heathcliff hero, defending my honour.
I ask her about Chris, “Lorn, he kissed me”, she whispers down the phone.
I grin, “Oh Han, that's brilliant! Atta girl”.
She chuckles, “He's an amazing kisser Lorn. We sat together at lunch and he's going to meet me on Saturday up the sports centre”, and we gossip on until a history coursework deadline sends me to my books.
An hour later, I’m mid-essay when the phone rings. Dan answers it and as I hear him say, “No, I'm the brother. You one of these lads she dances with then?”. I fly from the table to snatch the phone but Dan uses his significantly superior height and strength to keep me, literally, at arm’s length as he teases. I resort to a shin kick and a phone snatch, as Dan falls to the floor like an Italian footballer.
I whisper, “Hello?”.
There’s a chuckle at the other end, “Lonely Lorna! You alright there love?!”.
I sigh in relief, “Hey Justin, ignore that twat, he's a pet”, I poke my tongue out as Dan climbs to his feet, flipping me the bird as he pads good naturedly from the kitchen.
Justin goes on to say that the Easter weekend club gig, briefly mentioned by Nath at Mission, is on and that Justin needs my size for an outfit. Nath is apparently hoping to make it a regular booking if it goes well.
After a brief chat, Justin yelps, “Shit love, gotta go. Might catch you Saturday night if you're in town staying with those two gorgeous pricks, you got my number so call me. Love ya”, Justin blows a kiss down the phone and he's gone.
Realising that I’ve not actually confirmed things with Dad, I stick my head in the lounge where the TV flickers in the darkness.
“Dad, it’s OK yeah, if I go with Rosa to London this weekend? Y’know, for that Christening?”, I try to sound nonchalant.
Dad keeps staring at the screen as he shrugs and smiles distractedly, “Yeah love, uhuh, that’s fine”, he throws a thumbs up.
Dad doesn't ask for any details of where I’m staying or how I’m travelling. I’ve not spoken to Mum for five days, it’s not an unusual occurrence.
Wednesday 29th March 1995
Arriving for my first ever shift at the pub, kind Gill takes the time to introduce me to every regular customer and member of staff. The pub’s carvery restaurant is popular and the work straightforward. The chef, a terrifying Dutchman called Pete, is prone to emotional outbursts which Gill tells me must apparently be acknowledged solemnly and with penitence before moving on and pretending it never happened. Upon introduction, Pete tells me that he is 'Shit with names so I will call you Red', as I nod in startled agreement.
Panicking about my lack of contact with Rosa over the last few days, I call her from the phone box after work. Rosa's her usual feisty self, her college day marred by a spat with another art student who had 'fucked up' her art by 'dicking about with the kiln'. Ti has apparently happily agreed to transport me on Saturday and we’ll meet at 9am at Rosa's. Ti's managed to track down the lads, the grapevine somehow working in their favour. He knows where the boys live and we're meeting them at eleven near their flat. My cheeks hurt from smiling by the time I fall asleep.
Saturday 1st April 1995
At 8.30am, I’m up and dressed in my 501’s, a loose crop top in soft, ridged fabric and my bomber jacket. My hair is down to my hips in tamed curls and I’ve got some ineptly applied makeup on. Mum is crossed-armed in the kitchen and sneering as I scarper out of the back door with my rucksack over my shoulder, not a word exchanged.
Nico’s at training and Rosa is giddy and full of excitement when I arrive at hers. She drags me upstairs, pointing to an array of clothing laid out on her bed all of which is much cooler than anything I possess. I'd asked her if I could borrow some clothes, just in case we went out in London fearing that my motley collection of sartorial crap would not be cool enough and lo and behold, she’s delivered.
She’s rifling through the pile, “Ooooh Cara, I love this”, she holds up a black top, the fabric of which drapes beautifully at the front but the back consists entirely of the silver chains which hold the top together and prevent the wearer exposing themselves. There’s another chain which makes the halter-neck fastening.
I gape in awe as she holds up a tiny pair of hot pants asking, “Jailbait, have you got a clear strap bra and a g-string for this?”, I shake my head as she goes rummaging in her underwear drawer.
“Aha!”, grinning evilly, she's waving something that looks like two frisbees attached to a clear plastic slingshot and a bundle of dental floss.
“Christ Rosa, what the fuck are those?”, I'm gaping as she cackles and stuffs it all into my bag.
In the car, Ti tells me that he went to Lee and Shay's flat this week for the first time.
Ti’s been filled in about the issues with the pending release of the dealers and he locks eyes with me in the rear-view mirror, “You’re mates with these boys, menina? You get them to leave that manor and fuckin’ quick yeah? Them boys servin’ time, they're hungry for blood, they've given orders to leave your boys the fuck alone 'til they get out. Ain’t nobody on that estate don’t know them boys got a clock tickin’ on their heads”, Ti holds eye contact with me in the mirror, dragging on his cig and shaking his head, “You get them to leave that manor and quick”, every drop of blood in my body turns to ice as I panic in silence for the rest of the journey.
Two hours later, having traversed the North Circular and the urban landscapes that are so alien to me, Ti turns off a main road and we’re faced with a sudden and abrupt shift from the rows of shabby Victorian terraces and dilapidated 1950’s parades. In front of us lies a bleak, grey, bollard and railing filled landscape, tower blocks rising up in concrete mountains, menacing in their grey bluntness. A squat block of flats sits directly in front of us, its barrel-like entrance lobby offering limited glamour. Dark, wedge shaped concrete pillars contain gloomy car-parks underneath the flats and the windows remind me of the local bus station. Somewhere, in this six storey block, is the place where Shay and Lee sleep every night, it's where I will find them.
Rosa yawns and turns to me in the back seat, spotting my wide-eyed terror, she looks concerned and pats my knee, “This is The Farm cara, this is your boys' manor. Not what you expected? Man, this is different from where we started this morning eh?”, she's smiling kindly, her pretty face filled with understanding.
She continues gently, “My place is over that way, near the station. Ti's place is closer, I'll be there tonight if you need me. I'll give you the numbers”, and grabbing a pen, she writes it all down.
Rosa can sense I'm scared and bless her, she's trying to make me feel safer but I’m terrified. My rose-tinted vision of a weekend in a glamorous London flat with the boys that I like so very much,
has had a brutal urban reality check. I look down the road, back towards the tower blocks of The Farm, picking at my nails anxiously. I’ve never been in an estate like this, this is so far removed from all that I know. I’m doubting my motivation for being here until I see them, emerging from a side street.
Shay’s in a black Adidas tracksuit top, his jeans hanging low again and his white trainers glinting in the sun, his blond hair shaggy, those long limbs energised and that cheeky grin just blinding. He's hopping up and down like an excitable puppy bantering with Lee who’s smirking. Lee walks with a swagger, his strong torso cloaked in a black and white American basketball top over baggy black jeans and white trainers. His tall, lythe frame is held rigid, like he’s tense. For the first time since I met him, Lee is wearing a baseball cap over his twists and I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone look so cool. My heart races with nerves. What am I doing here?
I hear Rosa chuckle and look up, catching her dark eyes in the rear-view mirror, “Damn girl, those boys are fine”, she pats Ti reassuringly as he frowns at her.
Smiling broadly, I waggle my brows as she laughs, “What you waiting for Jailbait?”
I jump out of the car, Shay and Lee look up grinning as a wave of happiness sweeps through me. Hair flying, I run down the road towards them, Shay running ahead to scoop me up and swing me around as my heart thumps.
Standing back to beam into his bright blue gaze, I then turn to Lee who smiles shyly before I’m hugged tight to his chest as he rumbles into my hair, “You're here Shortie, you fuckin' came”, and pulling back, his bashful smile makes me tingle.
Approaching the BMW, Shay, Ti and Lee fist bump through the open window, Shay telling Ti, “We got a club for later, that new Garage night on Seven Sisters road, yeah. You up for it bruv?”, Ti shrugs and nods, plans quickly agreed.
With a hug from Rosa and a salute from Ti, the BMW disappears as Shay, vibrating like some sort of pressure cooker, grabs my hand, telling me how 'fuckin’ mental' it is that I’m in their world, the three of us walking along with grins and giddy chat. As we enter the lobby of the flats, the lift that Shay pulls me into is clean and smells strongly of disinfectant, the interior of the flats more welcoming than the exterior. The boys take the mick when a sudden jolt as we ascend makes me squeak in fear and bury my face in Shay’s arm. Laughing, we’re three doors down a corridor when Lee halts and starts to fumble with a key.
The white UPVC front door bears the mark of many a shoe kick and there’s a crack down one side. Door opened, Lee leads me into a dark hallway, the floor covered in black-striped remnants of old lino adhesive, the lino gone long ago. Shoes are scattered all over the floor, a distinctive 'boy' odour emanating from space and tatty film posters providing the only bit of decoration on the walls. The tired, brown internal doors have holes in them as I follow Lee into the room at the end of the hallway where the big windows have no curtains and the threadbare brown cord carpet is fighting a losing battle with a startling orange Elephant-patterned sofa. I'm stunned for a moment by the sofa, literally the last soft-furnishing on earth I would picture in their flat. There’s a scorched and ring-marked pine coffee table and a massive, wonky mahogany-effect TV unit with a battered TV and assorted VHS and games consoles trailing sadly from the shelves. Pictures in oversized cardboard frames are haphazardly displayed on the lopsided shelves.
Nosy, I walk over to the unit as the boys hover awkwardly. The first photo I spot is of a young, grubby Shay with Lee scowling next to him, dressed ready for some canoe based activity near a river. They look about eleven. The next one is a group photo, the boys are about fourteen and there are some girls, one of whom is draped around Shay's neck. Finally there's a photo of the boys, aged about eight, posing with a kids TV star I remember from my childhood. The star has his thumbs up in an animated smile but neither boy is smiling. Holding autographs, Shay is in a dirty shell suit, his hair unwashed and Lee looks haunted.
I turn and see the boys looking deeply uncomfortable, embarrassed even. I realise that we’ve not spoken since outside the flat.
I feel like I need to remedy this and make them feel better, “Guys, in all the crap we've talked about, not once, not once, did you tell me about this elephant sofa. London hard-men my arse, you'd scare nobody with this little beauty”, eyebrow arched in a piss take, I flop onto it.
Sighing 'ahhhhhhhh' as I wriggle to get comfy, I close my eyes until I’m jumped on and beset by tickling hands. I shriek and try to escape as Shay's large paws jangle my nerves and make me scream. Lee is chuckling and watches as I beg for mercy and apologise for the sofa diss. I manage to escape and wrap myself around Lee, hiding from Shay as he laughs and threatens retribution,
“You got a smart mouth Little Red but tha’ ain’t gonna save you”, he makes a dive for me as Lee snorts and pulls me into the safe cradle of his arms, making me feel a bit weak-kneed.
Calmer, I get a tour of the minimally furnished rooms and what strikes me is the lack of warmth, of comfort, of care. Everything seems to be mismatched, it's all broken or shabby. Their mattresses don't have sheets, the rooms have no lampshades and the curtains are just blankets nailed to the windows, making the rooms really dark. The flat feels cold and the kitchen smells terrible. The bathroom is an unholy horror show of rotting towels, ring marks and a loo I don’t dare look at. They deserve better than this. Back in the lounge, the silence is uncomfortable and I feel out of my depth.
Lee rumbles softly from his position leaning against the doorframe, “It's shit innit?”.
I walk over to him shaking my head with a smile whilst ducking into his eyeline, “No, no it's not shit. You two are here. It's my new favourite place actually”, and I press a fleeting kiss to the edge of his dry lips, blushing as Lee looks startled.
Shay wraps his arms around me from behind, his cheeky face visible over my shoulder, “It's not as shit wi' you here Little Red. We missed you an’ them scary nuns”, and he smiles, his face brushing mine.
I turn my head and plant a kiss on his cheek but he looks and me and whispers, “Hey, Lee got one on the lips, where's mine eh”, his soft words making me tingle, “Kiss us both the same Lor”, he turns his head and claims my lips with a soft, brief peck.
I step back, a bit flustered as Lee huffs behind us, “We drivin' then?”, Lee looks at Shay for his answer.
Shay pulls away from me and tuts, “Shit man, yeah, or we'll be fuckin' late”
Spotting my curious expression, Shay clarifies, “We’re gonna meet Jock for munch Little Red, he wants to meet you”, and waving his keys at Lee, takes my hand. I smile nervously, wondering why on earth their ex-social worker wants to see me.
As Shay drives through the streets around the flats, we suddenly slow and Shay points out the window on his side, “Tha's Albion House, the kids home. Me and Lee lived there nine years”, Shay points at the only detached property on the street, a large, double fronted building with large iron gates and high railings all round, CCTV notices dominating the outside space. It looks like some sort of Doctor's Surgery, one with a frequent burglary problem and a limited decorative budget.
Lee, silent until now, points up at the top right hand window, “That was our room there, Shortie. We got the biggest room, fuckin' result, eh?”, Lee sounds harsh, bitter.
Shay shoots him a warning look, a plea for peace almost. I can't read this situation but it’s clear that Lee’s hurting. I lean forward from the back seat, unbuckling my seatbelt and I press a kiss to Lee’s jacket-clad shoulder, stroking his arm to soothe. In a moment of impulse, I lean across and do the same to Shay who turns in the front seat, clearly surprised at the affection. Lee just stares out of the window, his jaw ticking.
Moving on, we drive down a bustling busy main road, lined with endless restaurants and grocers shops. According to my surly tour guides, this is Green Lanes where Jock intends to meet us.
Shay turns past an ornate pub and we abandon the car on a side road, Shay jumping out as he smiles, “'C'mon Little Red, come
meet the Scottish fucker”, hauling me out of the car as he slings his arm over my shoulder.
Swaggering down the road, the boys eventually stop outside a little cafe with a Turkish flag in the window, Shay bouncing in ahead as Lee and I follow behind.
A gruff, Scottish voice from the corner makes me jump, “I hae lost count o'er the years o' how many watches I’ve bought you two wee bastards but if yous turn up late fer one more meal, I will insert a fucking stop-watch up each o' your arses and set them tae go off hourly”, the lads turn, their grins wide as Shay is pulled into a hug by a bear of a man.
Standing taller than both of them, this huge, grey-bearded guy in his late fifties has quite a physical presence. His large beer-belly is covered in a stretched fisherman's jumper, worn over faded brown corduroy trousers and his thick grey hair is shaggy. He looks like a well-weathered trawlerman. He grabs Lee and 'knuckles' his hat, gruff affection in Lee's muttered, “Fuck off man”.
He turns to me, “Good tae meet you ma darlin', I'm Jock”, Jock reaches his huge hand out as I smile and shake it.
He turns to the boys, “Well now you've graced me wi' yer lanky presence, can ye' order yer food because ma stomach thinks ma throat's been cut, waiting for yous wee bastards”, Jock points at the menu and his watch.
The lads throw themselves into chairs and start scanning the menu as I sit politely, unsure about what I should do.
Jock answers my unasked question, “These numpties did some garden work fer me a couple'a weeks back and I've yet tae pay them. I'm funding lunch for yous all, so choose what you want darlin', it's on these wallopers”, he winks at me and cuffs Lee who’s sitting closest to him across the head with a menu. Lee flips him the bird good naturedly and we spend five minutes choosing food, Jock berating the boys about their poor diet before ordering. Jock’s not what I expected their ex-social worker to be at all. He swears at them constantly, clearly has great affection for them and bosses them around in a way that Lee and Shay seem to happily accept. Have they paid their rent? Have they put money in the bank and not in their pockets? Have they done their washing? Have they put money on the gas and electric keys? How did Lee get on with boss Brian this week?