Choices Shape, Losses Break

by Nia Lucas

  I don't feel like I can hide this from her, from the girl who has been so kind to me, from the person who is gatekeeping my secret life.

  I look down and mumble, “Nico” so quietly, I’m not sure she can hear it.

  “MY COUSIN???!!”. She heard.

  Darting a glance at Shay and Leon, I see them frown and take a step towards us. Rosa also sees this and with her hands fisting the short sleeve of my Adidas polo dress, she drags me towards the shabby door of the girls loo.

  “Fucking hell Jailbait”, she's mumbling as she checks all the stalls for occupants.

  Satisfied that we’re alone, she crosses her arms over her chest and stares at me, “Spill it”.

  I shuffle and toe the cracked tiles of the floor, “Er, it was a one-off thing, a bit unexpected, it just happened. He's not a wanker y'know, he's kind and funny. I like him, as a friend and that”, my face is so hot I must be glowing. I can't look at her.

  She shakes her head, “Fuck me, you're telling me that you willingly shagged that wank-sock when you could have either of them, THEM!”, she's pointing towards the door, incredulity making her slack jawed. “Christ, you're full of surprises Jail Bait”

  She's smirking now, “Tell me he didn't disgrace the family name? Tell me he wasn't shit?”

  I go more red and shrug, “He was lovely”, and re-examine the floor tiles.

  She snorts, patting me on the shoulder as she opens the door, the noise of the pub suddenly flooding into the quiet loo, “Girl, I can't believe you fucked my cousin”, she quips back, stopping short when she nearly walks into two furious looking boys in the doorway. Oh shit.

  “Fuck”, Rosa sounds genuinely regretful and the look she shoots at me over her shoulder is apologetic.

  Ducking past Shay, she zooms back to the bar and as the door closes, he stares at me as he disappears behind the peeling varnish. My heart is thudding in my ears and on wobbly legs, I cross the room and re-open the door. Shay and Lee are both leaning against the wall opposite, frowning.

  “Somethin’ we should know eh Little Red?”, Shay spits out, his voice sharp.

  I swallow thickly and croak out, “Er, a few weeks ago, I did something a bit daft with Rosa's cousin Nico, I er, I slept with him”, I wince and look down.

  Mumbling, I continue, “It was a one-off thing and I feel bad about messing him around. Rosa found out today. It won't be happening again, it was before, y'know, when I didn't think we would be anything except mates”, I wait for the ground to swallow me up. I can't look at him or Lee. Especially not Lee.

  I feel compelled to clarify whispering, “I'm not, y'know, a slag or anything”, I wince again and feel my heart thudding in my chest.

  I can't look at them, I don’t want them to see the truth of me. I see Lee's lower body come into my line of sight, he puts his hands on my waist and I finally look up at him.

  His voice is intense but low, “You're ours now though yeah Shortie? This thing, it's just us, yeah?”

  I nod frantically, breathing out “Yes”, with a nod, he presses a kiss to my forehead and walks off down the corridor. Shay does the same but with less forgiveness in his gaze and a slight slope in his shoulders. I follow behind them, catching Rosa's gaze across the room as she mouths “sorry”. She gets a smile and my middle finger, making her laugh. I stand next to them at the bar, the prickly discomfort making me fidget.

  Rosa comes over though and bulldozes any awkwardness, “Well boys, if she ends up with either of you two you won’t have to worry about her having a stud for an ex, eh? Her bar's set fucking low if she banged my cousin”, and she winks as the boys glower.

  I cover my face with my hands, shaking my head in horror. Mercifully, Rosa's mum comes over at this point with the baby and a camera and with little introduction, thrusts the baby at me and motions for the four-and-a-half of us to huddle together for a group shot. The baby is totally unfazed by this commotion and as Shay throws an arm over my shoulder and Lee snakes an arm around my waist, Rosa's mum takes the first ever photo of us together. Rosa gets into a fascinating row with her mum, her conversation an amalgamation of Italian and English which leaves the listener unsure as to whether a stroke has suddenly rendered them fluent in Italian or temporarily unable to understand English. With some flounces and kisses, Rosa leaves, Lee and Shay taking this as an immediate excuse to skedaddle out of the pub. Thanks and goodbyes offered to Rosa's family, I scuttle after them all, my heart sinking as I spot Ti sitting in the driver's seat of his car, waiting to drive us home.

  Giving Ti a 'two minute' gesture, Shay grabs my hand and takes me around the back of the pub, well out of sight as Lee grinds out his cig and follows. Out of view, Shay leans against the wall of the pub and guides me into the cradle of his legs bending down and capturing my cake-glazed lips in a heated snog. I feel Lee's warmth behind me and lips pressed to my neck as he sweeps my hair out the way. Slowly, Shay's kiss draws to an end and a somewhat urgent set of hands grab my waist and I’m pulled into Lee's kiss, his tongue doing things that should be illegal frankly. My knees actually give way, causing me to swoon like some sort of 1940’s movie star as his strong arms hold me safe.

  Shay snorts and lights another cig, “Bruv, you can't fuck her here, eh?”, we draw the kiss to a close as Lee scowls at him.

  I’m entirely punch drunk, wobbly and grinning like a fool as Lee leads me back to Ti's car, handing me my bag and pulling me into a very chaste hug, whispering, “Soon, yeah Shortie?”.

  A bit wobbly and teary, I stand back and say in a cracked voice, “Let me know how you get on tomorrow, y'know, with Jock and the Council, yeah?”, I get matching nods as Ti starts the engine and we move off. I wave through the window, realising that it was only yesterday morning that I was in this car last. It feels like a lifetime ago.

  Rosa smirks in the front seat as I wipe my tears, “So, went for a ciggie break behind that pub did ya?”, she smirks knowingly and continues, “Christ, them Malboros must be strong if they make your lips swell like that and give you fucking red marks on your neck. You might wanna change brands”, she's sniggering now, the complete cowbag and in the mirror she mouths, “I’m onto you”, winking as I hide a grin.

  When Ti drops me home, my Mum is in the kitchen and immediately I’m on high alert. She looks me up and down as if I have grossly offended her, her lip curled in derision.

  As she walks out, she pushes me out of the way muttering, “You’ll want to check the bin”

  My heart sinks. I’d left some stuff in the tumble dryer on Saturday morning, I’d meant to take it up to my room before I left. As I pick my clothes out of the filthy wheelie bin by the back gate, I work out that she’d have had to carry the washing 20 metres to the bin, twice as far as it would be to just dump my stuff in my room instead. I guess she thought the walk was worth it to make sure I am reminded how much she dislikes me.

  Sunday 2nd April 1995, 7pm

  Han's date with Chris was dreamy and she's giddy with the newness of it all. I let her gush for ages, smiling at her happiness as we sit in her bedroom,

  “So anyways, Lor, how was your weekend? What happened?”, she sits back, smiling expectantly.

  I cannot tell Han about my weekend, it's her turn to be the focus of romantic dramas.

  I smile, “It was good, we went clubbing, hung out. I like being mates with them”, I’m the picture of innocence as Han smiles encouragingly. Lying to Han again.

  She tells me she’d seen Nico at the weekend with Chris and the mention of his name causes a weird twinge in my chest. Walking home past the phone box, I call Justin to get the details of the Easter weekend club gig and apologise for not ringing him on Saturday night.

  Justin snorts, “Don't sweat it love- a garage night in Seven Sisters? I'd rather eat my own feet”, he carries on, “Look, I'm working Saturday at this bar in Soho so come on down if you’re back up town. Nath'll be there too, trying to get his little weaselling face on the scene down there”, we both laugh as he gives me the detai
ls.

  What the fuck do I think I’m playing at?

  Monday 3rd April 1995

  The first morning of the Easter holidays, I’m making tea in an empty house when the phone goes. It’s Shay and Lee who tell me they were frog-marched to the Council by Jock but with no alternative housing to offer the boys, the Police have apparently coughed up the funding for a panic alarm which will have the additional bonus of providing them with a phone line.

  “Little Red, when you comin’ up, eh? Jock's doin' our fuckin' heads in”, Shay grumbles.

  I snort, “Shay, I only saw you yesterday. You need a hobby”

  He laughs and whispers, “Maybe you’re gonna be my fuckin' hobby Little Red”, making me blush.

  Tuesday 4th April 1995

  Today finds me at Jenny's house for GCSE revision. As Ellie and I stare blankly at the drawings in our biology textbooks and Jen goes off to make more tea, I mutter,

  “El, do you reckon I could tell my parents that I'm at yours this weekend? Would that be OK?”, I wince at her.

  Ellie, gorgeous dark hair glossy and makeup immaculate, puts her endoplasmic reticulum diagram down and looks at me appraisingly, “Why, where will you actually be Lorna?”

  I flick through the textbook and aim for nonchalance, “Er, in London, just seeing some mates”.

  I fool nobody and Ellie squeals, “Oooooh, you're visiting those boys aren't you? Bloody hell!”, she looks proud, then rolls her eyes, “Yeah, sure. Just, y'know, I can't cover if your olds ring mine though, you sure you want to risk it?”, her tone is worried.

  I look her in the eye. “Yes”

  Wednesday 5th April 1995

  Gill rings me just after my parents have left for work, offering extra Easter Holiday cleaning hours at the pub which I happily accept, my bank account needing a boost. Upon arrival, she takes me out to the car park and towards a detached two-storey building that I’ve never paid attention to before. She heads for an entrance door below peeling mismatched windows.

  She chats as we walk, “Right Lorna love, up here is the Housekeepers Flat”, I follow Gill through the varnished front door and up a flight of floral-carpeted stairs into a gloomy space.

  Gill explains, “A bloke's been renting this place from me for about a couple of years but he just moved out. I want somebody to give it a thorough once-over so that if it's empty for a while, no nasties grow or start to smell”, she laughs.

  Off the hallway corridor is a dated dark-oak kitchen and opposite that is an avacado coloured bathroom. At the end of the hallway, is a big lounge with two sofas and a dining table in the corner. As Gill walks me through, I can already smell the dirt, damp and grime. At the far end of the lounge is a surprisingly large bedroom and down a step is a second, smaller bedroom. The walls of the entire flat are covered in the sort of flocked foam-embossed wallpaper that was popular in the early 80's, palm-frond prints on a dirty cream background and the gravy-coloured paint on the mock-Tudor ceiling beams is peeling.

  For hours, I clean the entire place. Carpets and walls are scrubbed, grime wiped and the smells replaced with citrus. The bathroom actually makes me heave at one point but by 2pm, I'm able to stand back and look with pride at a transformed space, the elderly carpet at least two shades lighter than it was. I'm back on shift at the restaurant that night so I head off home for a few hours respite between shifts. At home I’m always on edge. Despite cleaning the house and cooking food, my mum’ll still kick off when she gets in from work. I won’t have done it right, I’ll be at fault, a let down. She’ll shout and rage and make me feel shit. It's always been this way. Nothing I do is good enough. I’m not good enough. Sure enough, two hours later, she smirks as a frustrated tear rolls down my face. She chucks Dan’s favourite dinner that I’d cooked in the bin with sneering derision. My Dad watches TV in the other room.

  Back from my shift at the pub at 10pm, Dan smiles like a Cheshire Cat as he teases me, eventually handing me a scrap of paper with an unfamiliar London number on it.

  “A guy with an Irish accent rang, said it’s his new number. You up to no good eh Midget?”, he laughs as I hug him.

  Sneaking back out to the phone box, I dial the number with trembling fingers and Shay answers in seconds, ‘Little Red, we got a fuckin' phone!!”

  I laugh, “How'd you know it was me calling?”

  Shay tuts at the other end, “You're the only one we give this number to, you daft cow”

  I melt and then chuckle at the sound of a scuffle at the other end before Lee rumbles, “Hey Shortie”, he’s got the phone off Shay by force judging by the background shouting.

  I smile down the phone, “Hey Lee, you OK? How was work?”. Lee's voice makes me feel warm,

  “Yeah Shortie, cool, Shay's gotta work overtime on Saturday now but you still comin' up girl?”, when Lee says more than a couple of words, I get this rush of giddiness that the incredible brooding lad I met at that rave cares enough to talk to me.

  “Um, yeah, yeah I can come up. I need to get the train though, I've not seen Rosa this week, she's been busy”, I smile as I hear Shay whoop in the background.

  Lee's voice sounds like a smile, “You and me yeah, while this boy's at work, we gonna have times Shortie”, and with arrangements to meet by a shop in Paddington station, I say goodbye with a wide grin.

  Thursday 6th April 1995

  After a day revising hard, my shift at the pub is mega busy but the presence of Nico and his more agreeable mates is a nice distraction and we chat as I run around. Nico’s group includes Chris who blushes when I mention Han. Nico looks really good as we joke and mess around, his cheeky winks and jibes making me smile. As I clear tables, I watch him laugh easily with his mates and I feel a sad weight in my chest. Nico is a lovely lad, with a kind, friendly family and if I get too close, he’ll see that my Mum and those people at school are right. He’ll see that I’m not worth it, he’ll see the truth of me, the girl who does the things I do. Slut, slag. He’ll become another Charlie that sneers at me and I’ll lose him. I don’t want Nico to look at me like that, this burgeoning friendship with him feels…important. I’ve risked enough with him as it is. I don’t want to go back to a life where Nico D’Angelo isn’t my friend.

  I sniff back a weird tear, poke out my tongue and sneak him some free chips as he grins, “Davies, you are a proper legend”

  Saturday 8th April 1995

  Bidding my deceived Dad goodbye as I 'head to Ellie's for a sleepover', I get the early bus to the train station and from there, the fast Train to Paddington. Having thought about the boys all week, I’m too nervous to read the ‘More’ magazine I bought at the station shop as I silently panic. I've chosen to wear my silky grey combats, Timberlands and a cream crop top under a red plaid shirt in the hope that a confident outfit will mask my nerves. As the train pulls into the huge, arched space of the station, I realise that I have no idea where to find the shop that Lee said, turning in little circles before my world comes zooming into focus. There. By the stairs. Lee. Taller than most people in the crowd, he's wearing his bomber jacket and baggy jeans riding low. He’s been to the barber, sporting defined twists, gorgeous as he smirks shyly. With the sort of cool that I can never emulate, he slowly pulls away and lazily walks towards me. Like a deer in the headlights, I’m rooted to the spot, transfixed and paralysed as I try to remember how to breathe. Lee Barrett is here to see me. Me. He's so close, his eyes scanning my face from his significant height advantage. A hand on my waist, his soft, deep voice makes me shiver,

  “Hey Shortie, you're here”, and before I can bask in the longing in his voice, his lips are on mine and my brain dissolves.

  He tastes of mint and chocolate and as his tongue strokes mine, I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him closer. His hand is under my bum as he lifts me up, my holdall long dropped to the floor as we cling onto each other until a porter with a huge trolley requires us to move aside.

  Lee smiles and rolls his eyes, “Man, you got no idea how pissed off S
hay was this mornin'. He's workin' 'til six and we gotta be back at the flat then, fuckin' apparently”, Lee smirks.

  I laugh, “Poor Shay, he'll be a nightmare at work, eh?”, Lee snorts and nods as he pulls me close again, pressing me up against him as he leans against the wall.

  He whispers “Fuck that dickhead”, as he kisses me again, a demanding volcano of a snog as his hand slips up under my crop top, his hips moving gently against mine.

  I pull away, his lips on my throat, my neck, my ears. “Lee, Lee, we can't do this here. Lee?”, I laugh when he groans “Shit”, against the skin of my neck before furtively scanning the area, he grabs my bag and takes my hand.

  Leading me through the station, his eyes are downcast, his shoulders tense. I can't read the emotion but his demeanour makes people nervously move out of his way as we walk, his jaw is clenched and his eyes hard and confrontational. Slowing, I pull Lee towards me, his eyes darting around.

  I reach up and put my hand on his cheek, “Hey, Lee, what's up? You OK?”, I go up on tip-toes and press a kiss to his skin.

  His eyes close and he sighs, “Yeah, yeah it's cool. I just, I...fuck...I don't like it busy y’know? I don’t come up town much, people lookin' at you funny, all tha’ shit”, he shrugs and doesn't meet my eyes.

  I smile and whisper in his ear, “Ignore it, don't stress. I'll protect you Lee”, I wink at him,

  He snorts, “Yeah, you're proper fierce Shortie, tough girl Lor, eh?”, I smack his arm in mock outrage.

  In the subsequent silence, Lee looks uncomfortable but his hand strokes my waist strokes me softly as I find my words, “Lee? Let’s go to your favourite place. I want to go there with you”, I smile at him and squeeze his hand as he nods tightly, kissing me softly before leading me off.