by Nia Lucas
It's all going well, we’ve ticked off most of the stuff on my shopping list and we're accomplishing lots, I even find some podium-suitable bits and bobs, right up until the point that Seamus loses concentration. He is uncontrollable and what transpires is simultaneously the funniest and the most embarrassing retail experience of my life, as a whooping, giddy Shay prats around and makes a Holy Show of himself as we buy condoms in Boots. Then he spots an Ann Summers shop and all fucking hell is let loose as he creates chaos in his loud, brash silliness. Lee, who refused to go in, is leaning against the wall of a nearby shop, shaking his head and looking entirely mortified as we emerge. When Shay goes to attack him with the bag containing a newly purchased vibrator and an assortment of flavoured condoms, the resulting tussle sees me laugh so much that I collapse, Lee having to prise me off the floor, muttering about, “Fuckin' shamin' twats”.
Having briefly returned home, I announce to my Dad, mindful of Dan’s urge for caution with Mum, that I'm going to see Han and that I might 'stay over'. I’m precise in my words and at no point do I say that I am staying at Han's. I add that I'm going to pop to the pub to see people there. I don't at any point say that I am not staying at the pub. A jury would never convict me.
Tuesday 20th June 1995
After a night of under-duvet adventures, the three of us head to my empty house, eating pizza and chatting. There’s something really lovely about them hanging out at the house, a place that if often so fraught with tension feels safer somehow with them here. Lee, commenting on the family photos dotted around, starts talking about his own family. Sitting around eating food, I learn that when Lee's Dad was on the run, before he was imprisoned for dealing and eventually deported back to Jamaica, he had tried to take the boys overseas, resulting in his arrest at Passport Control at Heathrow. Lee and Malachi were forcibly removed in distressing scenes and returned, according to Shay who jumps in, to 'tha' fuckin' crack head bitch'. That was the last time Lee saw his Dad. He was seven.
Shay and Lee ask me about my mum, doubting my assertions that she had not hit me like that before last month. I explain about my childhood fear of her, the constant criticism and scolding, the physical chastisement, the terror she still inspires.
Shay looks thoughtful, “I got no real fuckin' memories o' my Ma, got no photos neither. I remember some o' the stuff she told me, that my Da was a Traveller lad she met at the fair”, Shay shrugs but doesn't seem to acknowledge that his Irish lilt must be from her, it can't have come from anywhere else and it has lasted, astonishingly, for twelve years. Neither of us mention that his accent gets stronger when he talks about her.
I get up and go and sit in Lee's lap, “Where’s your mum Lee? Do you ever see her?”, my head rests against his shoulder.
He shakes his head, his voice quiet, “Nah Shortie, bitch moved in wiv some crackhead bloke in Walthamstow. Seen her two times since I come into Care”, Lee's angry tone masks sadness.
Lee’s abusive mum was a girl from a Middle Class family, her horrified parents cutting her off after she moved to Tottenham with the suave Jamaican man she met at a nightclub. When the boys came into Care, Jock apparently contacted these relatives and it turned out that not only did they not know about the boys, the idea of two black grandsons was too much for them and they asked Jock never to contact them again. No relatives on his Dad's side in the UK and a racist maternal family who didn't give a shit. Having been deported after serving a short sentence, Lee’s Dad disappeared. Jock tried to trace him in Jamaica for years with no luck, no contact even when Mal died. I know, from our trip to Westminster Abbey, that Lee isn’t as OK with this as his jokes with Shay suggest.
Shay’s staring at the TV, “Jock did the same wi’ my ma too, he reported her missin’ coz she’d fucked off a week after I was gone wi’ the Social an’ he needed her to sign forms or some shit”, he chews his pizza slowly, not looking at me.
In a tone I haven’t heard before, Shay mumbles that he last saw her the day he came into care, “She were in bed, fuckin’ pissed. She never even said bye. Jock took me out the flat wi’ my toys in a shoppin’ bag. Tha’ was all I fuckin’ had”, I see his jaw tick.
I get up from Lee's lap, biting my cheek hard to stop myself weeping and I snake my arms round Shay's neck, sitting in his lap and pressing kisses into his warm skin.
“D'you ever want to try and find her? Or your dad?, I whisper.
Shay shakes his head, “Nah, she never come lookin' for me Little Red and she knew where I fuckin' was and my Da fucked off straight after he knocked her up. Them cunts are just fuckin' biology. Family? It's tha' prick”, his tone back to its cocky norm, he points at Lee, both of them snorting into their pizza
I have to shake off the heartbreak, trying to find a little glow of happiness that they trust me with their difficult histories. At four o'clock, we have a frantic clear up, agreeing that the lads will have tea at the pub. I'll tell my parents about Ellie's party and the boys will pick me up at the end of my road at 7.30pm, the prospect of socialising with some of my school tormentors making me jittery.
Heart thumping, I break the news of the party to Dad whilst Mum washes up in the kitchen. I hear her throw a soapy plate back into the bowl with a jarring clatter from the other room, as she walks past the lounge doorway, the hostility radiating from her. I tell Dad that he can call Ellie's parents to check it's legitimate. Dad looks at me, gripping his paper, his eyes impossibly sad. He shakes his head slowly and walks out. An hour later I run to the car, escaping my mother's silent fury as the boys grin wickedly at me from the front seat of the Escort. As we arrive at the sedate, exclusive estate that El's house sits within and walk in the door, it's clear that this post-GCSE celebration is a much bigger thing than I’d anticipated. There are people everywhere and I feel Lee tense beside me.
“Fuckin' hell Shortie, that El, she loaded?”, Shay's staring round the huge entrance hall as I nod and grimace.
Walking into the glossy marble kitchen, my protectors lagging far behind, I see with relief that the majority of the kitchen inhabitants are Ellie's friends from her old school. Looking out into the garden however, I clock a sizeable gaggle of my school peers, snooty Emelia Hunt and her deputy Lucinda Matlock at the centre of a braying group and my blood runs cold, worsened when I see some of Charlie’s associates in the background. Just as I feel the ground wobble beneath my feet from the panic, Shay and Lee appear at my shoulders and their proximity soothes me.
In the crowded kitchen, we swiftly become the focus of attention. Compared to the posturing sixteen-year-old GCSE students, Shay and Lee are significantly more imposing. Shay looks like a fecking model, Lee looks like a model with a case of the grumps and Lee is also pretty noticeably the only black person in this ethnically homogeneous gathering of rural teenagers. Shay looks guarded, he doesn't smile. Lee frowns. Neither of them invite interaction. The kitchen is a sea of Hackett jackets and Fred Perry tops, it’s Brit Pop teen heaven and now there are stunned stares all round.
Ellie screams and runs over, her eyes comically darting to Shay. Pulled into a heavily scented hug, Ellie smiles broadly at me in a manner which suggests that she’s had a drink or four. She hugs Shay with enthusiasm but Lee, shooting his best people-repelling glare, just gets a nervous smile. Jenny walks over and the six of us talk about the summer, Ellie casually mentioning her upcoming holiday, describing beaches and the blue seas in a way that makes us all a bit dreamy. Shay, scarfing some crisps he’s found, talks about working all summer, how shit it is, how much he'd 'fuckin sell a bollock' to go to a beach. He mutters that he's never had a passport as Ellie stares adoringly at him.
Rolling my eyes, I drop the news that aside from probably working like lunatics all holiday, we’re going to the festival this weekend and Ellie is sloppily gobsmacked, “Lorna, that's bloody huge, you never said? When did you get tickets?”.
Shay nods with a smirk, “Little Red's workin' the dance stuff, It's her moves tha’ got us the tickets, me and him, we're just comin' along for
the free fuckin' ride”, all the heads swivel to me as I grimace and wince.
Ellie looks gobsmacked, “You're doing what now Lorna? Dance stuff? What?”
Ellie’s jaw unhinges with each small disclosure I make about my lycra-clad adventures (“It's like you've got a secret identity woman, what the hell?!”) and as we all chat, I feel Shay fiddling with my hair, a habit he's developing as his comforting arms slowly go around my waist. Lee sits down n
dext to us and I drape my legs over both Shay and Lee's laps. I feel a surge of happiness when Lee's tense muscles immediately relax in response to my touch, a giddy glow of satisfaction that I can have this calming effect on this big, brooding lad that I love.
We head off to grab more drinks and return to the lounge, where Ellie's holding court. We three sit in the corner, huddled close with me in the middle, Shay sneaking the odd snog as Lee scowls.
“Shay?”, a slurring El asks from the armchair, “Did you really get stabbed?”. The whole room, now with additional bodies- bloody snooty Emelia Hunt included- goes silent.
Shay looks up, his eyes a bit heavy-lidded from the kiss we just shared, “Yeah darlin' nine times”, I hear some gasps as shocked faces suddenly surround us.
The cheeky bastard winks at El, “You wanna see the scars love?”, El's enthusiastic nod is slightly indecent in its affirmation and with that, Seamus proceeds to remove his shirt like a bloody stripper as Lee and I both hang our heads in shaking shame.
Trying not to laugh, Lee mutters,“Fuckin' massive dickhead”, softly, making me snort.
Now I would never claim to be used to the impact of Shay's body, I mean there are constant moments of 'Holy Hell' but I’m so familiar with the planes of his amazing torso, that the element of surprise is dulled. However for the assembled teenage masses, including the bloody Bitch Squad from school, that surprise element is still very much present. When that silly sod pulls his shirt off and they are faced with the tattoo, the muscles, the v-line, the six pack and the perma-tan, I actually feel sympathy for them because that view takes its toll. It takes its toll on your blood pressure, the integrity of your knickers, on your lung capacity and indeed on your view of every male body that you’ve encountered to date. It’s ridiculous, frankly.
He’s chatting nonsense as always, “Yeah so tha's the big ones on me chest and tha'. I got four others on me fuckin' legs but I ain't takin’ no more off. Tha’s for Little Red's only”, he winks at me and I can't help but smile at the daft, lovely silliness of him as the girls goggle and the boys scowl.
The rest of the party is really good, although at one point I’m dragged into the kitchen where I’m interrogated by Ellie’s mates regarding the fitness of O'Driscoll and, more irritatingly, by at least two girls asking me if I can introduce them to Lee because he is so gorgeous. I realise that I can, in principle, share Shay. I can laugh at people trying to flirt with him, chatting him up, declaring their, (only partially jesting) love for him but when somebody talks about Lee or even mentions that they find him attractive, my insides broil and the jealousy is physical. Wandering around the house as the boys play on the computer console in the basement, I find Jenny snogging a random lad in the hallway and smile at this new little development. However, a few seconds later, I hear a shout of alarm as Jenny runs down the hallway before throwing up spectacularly in the loo. I engage in much back rubbing and hair holding, poor Jen sobbing and spitting as my lovely, demure friend experiences her first party overindulgence. Once finished, she flops on the toilet floor and no amount of my cajoling gets her up.
Inspiration striking I wander down to the basement, smiling as a small crowd encourages Lee and Shay’s onscreen slaughter.
Sneaking through the throng, I gently pat Lee on the shoulder, whispering, “Lee, c’mere, give me a hand yeah?”, as he looks up and nods without hesitation, throwing the controller to an eager bystander.
As we go up the basement stairs, Lee reaches out for my hand and our fingers comfort touch.
Heading down the hallway, I whisper to him what’s happened and with an eye roll Lee gently sweeps Jenny up, carrying her through the hallway and up towards the spare room.
He tuts, “Typical Shortie, I'm bein' the good guy and ain’t no fucker here to see it”, he smirks.
Jenny hears his voice and stirs groggily, “Lee...I like you...you've got lovely arms, even with your scars, I love you...I’ve got a secret though, you know?...I think Lorna loves you too...don't tell Shay”, and with a hiccup, she passes out again.
Lee's smirking chuckle takes us into a bedroom where he very gently lays Jenny on a bed and I cover her with a blanket.
I take Lee's hand and walk towards the door but he stops me, “Why you just ask me an’ not Shay, Shortie? Eh? Why get me up here”, his eyebrow is raised and I mumble and drag my toe in the long shag pile of the carpet, blushing and looking shifty.
“Wassat Lor?”, he's smirking, the bastard.
I sigh and look directly at him, “There are girls here talking about how fit you are and how much they want to pull you and I got jealous and I wanted to see you. So, I got you. That’s it”, I fold my arms and look at my feet.
That smirk, oh lordy lord, that smirk, “You jealous 'bout me Shortie? You gonna fight them girls for me, eh? Might go down there, see if any of them girls are worth a look.....”, his words are cut off as I literally jump on him, growling slightly.
Lee's reaction is instant, lips locked, pushing me against the wall as I try and claim him, stake my flag on him with tangling tongues and grabbing hands. What fuels the fire in his reaction, I'm not entirely sure but his responding urgency makes me melt.
My legs are round his waist, my hands roaming his back freely under his top with permission granted weeks ago until a shout from the hallway sees us reluctantly pull apart, chuckling.
Lee bites his lip, making my heart tingle, “So, that's you jealous hey Shortie? That's what fuckin' happens? Jesus, girl, best make you jealous more often”, he laughs when I smack his arm, Jenny stirring on the bed with the noise.
We grimace but then I smile softly, reaching out to stroke his face, those cheekbones, that strong jaw, “I love you Lee, I proper love you”, I feel my lip twitch with the emotion, my eyes watery suddenly.
Lee looks at me, his deep brown eyes scanning my face before he presses a soft kiss to my lips, “Girl, you got no fuckin' idea”, as he kisses me breathless.
Shay comes to find us and the three of us end up alone in the kitchen, messing about chucking peanuts and marshmallows into each other's mouths. Moaning about the second play of the 'wank shit them cunts like', Shay swaggers off to the car, returning with a Tupac CD. Spotting a stereo in the kitchen, he cranks it up and we dance in the wide glossy space of El’s kitchen. Lee, so impossibly cool, raps along to the track looking serious, while Shay, with all his energy and despite his still-sore scars, can breakdance really well. I channel my inner Garage Girl and get my hips whining. None of us are taking this seriously and Shay's failed move that results in a spectacular fall, makes Lee and I lean on each other laughing. We move together and before we realise it, we’re pressed together as a three, moving in the synchronisation that is starting to feel so comfortingly familiar. We tit about for ages, so absorbed in having fun as the boys rip the piss out of each other.
Shay's sniggering. “Lee bruv, you think you're so fuckin' slick bad man but Little Red needs to know 'bout that high top fade haircut you got when we was kids”
Lee scowls heavily and growls, “You chat more shit bruv, I'll tell her 'bout that fuckin' pink shellsuit shit you wore when we was ten”, making all of us so helpless with laughter that none of us notice that we’re not alone.
“Excuse us”, a sneering tone makes us all turn around.
Oh ace. The bitch squad. As a group, Emelia and co grab drinks from the fridge, throwing haughty looks at us. Shay sneers, pulling me into the cradle of his legs as he leans against the table, a protective move that warms me. The giggling is vindictive
in tone and it seems that any fear these girls had of the lads, it's disappeared along with our exams. They’re brazen in their disdain and I can taste trouble.
Emboldened by Lee and Shay’s proximity, I strike first, “You girls got something to say to me, eh?”, I hear Shay snigger in my ear.
With a haughty look and a sneer that leaves me in no doubt that I’m found lacking, Emelia turns and looks at me, “No Lorna, we don't ever have anything to say to you. And now you're going, we're so sad to see you go. Aren't we girls? So sad”, Emelia turns to her posse and sniggers as they go to leave the room.
But she turns in the doorway, her horsey face glowing with spite, “Actually Lorna, I do have one thing to say to you as it happens. I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you more. I've always been fascinated to know what drives girls to prostitution, I could have got your insider's story for my next sociology essay. After all, Charlie said you were quite the professional”, Emelia and her posse bray with laughter as they turn to leave but I’ve moved.
Wrenching myself out of Shay's grasp, I’m across the kitchen in seconds. Grabbing her by the shoulder, she turns in surprise as my fist connects with her snooty face so hard that she falls over with an outraged scream.
Fury still coursing through my veins, I cast a challenging glare at any of the other girls who might have a comment to make, driving them away from their fallen comrade who is howling in indignation. Shay and Lee are high-fiving each other and whooping out praise for my sucker-punch.
Moving close to her I snarl, “Put that in your essay, you fucking stuck up, horse-faced cunt”. The girls collect their leader off the floor and scuttle from the kitchen, Emelia's outraged sobs the backing track to their ministrations.
I stand there, my hand bloody throbbing, watching them leave as the blood roars in my ears.