by Nia Lucas
With the cold, quiet tone that I’m developing as part of my armour, I tell him. “I’ve got a summer job in Ibiza Jock, I start in a few weeks. I didn’t, well, I couldn’t tell them for ages coz I was worried they’d kick off about me going without them. I couldn’t face the hassle”, I see Jock frown.
I shake my head with a sneer, “I guess I was right to be worried coz, you know what? When I finally told them that I was going, their response was to walk straight off and pull two girls in front of me”, my bravado falters as my lip wobbles, “Jock, they did it in front of me and then they walked away like what we had meant nothing, like I mean nothing”, I only realise I’m crying when a tear splashes into my cleavage.
Wiping my cheeks with renewed defiance, I look Jock in the eye and tell him that I’m 'with someone else now', a white but effective lie. I tell him that my life with the boys is over, that I’m through with the pair of them, that I can never forgive them. I hand him the holdall with their possessions and ask him to pass it on.
“I need to go”, I start to stand as Jock deflates with a sad expression.
I carry on talking as I wrestle with my coat, “I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done Jock. They…they’re lucky to have you”, the bloody tears are close again as I stare at the table, “I wish you were my person but you’re not, you’re theirs and that’s how it should be so now I just need to go”, Jock looks genuinely taken aback by my blunt statements but this is my new armour and I’m starting to like it. I press a kiss to his bearded cheek and run out of the door, as he nods sadly at me.
My outfit, my armour, attracts attention that I didn’t expect in my distracted fury. I get chatted up, whistled at, propositioned. Fifteen months ago, I was at a warehouse rave, out of my depth, lost and meek. Not today. Today, fifteen months and a lifetime later, I am brutal, fierce, eviscerating. A lad, part of a group shopping in TopMan, approaches me and asks for my number. I realise that I could pull him and let him lead me back to wherever he lives. I could become his girlfriend. He could come to the club with me tonight. We could go on dates. I could meet his mum. I could fuck him until he cries with pleasure. I could be his but I can't do any of that you see because I think they've broken me. Because I don't know who I am now. I don't know what I am. I don't have the first clue who Lorna Davies is if she's not with them. This girl who can't return to the life she once led, who has no clue what the life she currently lives should look like, who is she? How do you be with somebody else when you don't know who you are any more?
So I sneer at him, this handsome, confident, nicely dressed lad. I am withering in my rebuttal. When he responds with an insult, I front. I square up to him and I make a loud scene, calling him a cunt, throwing my arms wide, radiating hostility. O’Driscoll has schooled me well. I walk off, numb.
Arriving at the club early for my shift, I spend time with Nath organising Ibiza in more detail. Nath has some guaranteed work for me out there in addition to Justin's nights and he'll get me linked in with other promoters. Nath knows I'm not with my Team any more and his fingers linger on my skin longer than usual, looks are a bit more heated. I let it happen. I don't fancy Nath at all but sod it, I need his Ibiza contacts. He can have this if it gets me what I want. I let that old feeling of numbness cloak me.
Preparing for my shift, I don the smallest black hot pants I own, pairing them with fishnet tights, a silver wrap bra top that makes my tits look amazing and my new stripy fluffies. I project an attitude that screams, 'Don't fuck with me'. Mounting my podium, I dance with an aggression that makes me feel powerful. When I dance, I normally just switch off and go but tonight, I am focussed on getting attention. Regaining power.
I’m midway through the set when I suddenly feel them. I can't explain it but I immediately know that they are here and my bravado falters. I dismount the podium, walking straight to the cordoned off safety of the DJ booth, where I spend my break flirting outrageously with the smug-looking DJ. Heading back to the podium, I grab Stef, the massive Turkish bouncer who's escorting me and I lie, telling him that Shay is stalking me and that I want him and Lee removed as I think they're in the club. Stef knows both lads pretty well, they’ve been coming to the club with me since last July and Stef looks conflicted. My newly released inner-bitch strokes his chest coquettishly and I tell him that I'd be very grateful for his help. I rapidly feel sick from my deception. It's right then that I feel a hand on my arm and I don't even need to turn to see who it is. I know that hand. Lee.
I urge, “Stef, please, please get rid of them”, my panic is genuine and it shows in my face and frantic tone as I wrench off Lee’s hand and go to flee.
I see Stef step behind me protectively as I walk away quickly but I hear them call for me. I hear the commotion behind me as Stef does as I asked, as he intercepts and removes them. I don’t look back as I clamber into the raised safety of my podium.
I dance out my anger, my hurt, my pain. I empty myself, I give that podium my soul tonight. I don’t even stop for breaks, preferring the catharsis and security of my elevated sanctuary.
At just after 4am, I'm changed back into my clothes and heading for the door when Stef appears, his big frame a bit sweaty and irritated, “Darlin', them boys, they won't fuck off from outside and we got no business ringing the gavvers, they ain't causing no hassle. But if you want, I can get you out the back door, get you up the road for a cab without them seeing?”, his eyebrows raised in question, Stef's tone is so kind and I’m riddled with guilt.
I thank him and I'm about to take him up on the offer when I realise that they’ll just follow me to Justin's when they realise that I’ve gone. Needing to throw them off my scent, I go and see Nath. With a surprising kindness, he gives me his keys and his address and Stef takes me out of the back door to get a cab from the street around the back of the club, undetected.
It turns out that Nath's place is a nice one-bedroom apartment near Kings Cross, filled with chrome and glass. I grab a shower and fall asleep on his sofa, feeling a bit weird about intruding on Nath’s unfamiliar world. Nath gets in at about 6am. He chucks a throw over me before going to his room, thankfully entirely platonic and above board. After offering him my thanks over an awkward breakfast, I get on the Easter Sunday coach and I'm home at the pub by three.
Sunday 7th April 1996
I'm watching TV and doing my Geography coursework with the luxury of electricity, lights and heating, when I hear a familiar throaty BMW engine and tinny car stereo approaching. Them. Hyper-alert and my heart racing, I run like the wind down the stairs, locking the front door and leaving the key in the keyhole, to prevent anyone gaining access. I turn off the lights and I go and hide in the smallest bedroom, under the duvet cover that still smells like Nico. They're here.
I’m shaking so much that my teeth are chattering but I’m not cold. I hear the sound of a key attempting to fit into the lock. I hear Shay swear at Lee that the lock’s been changed. I hear tones of worry in Lee's voice, snippets of words floating through the thin glass of the larger bedroom window,
“Shit man....where the fuck can she....Justin...no fuckin’ clue.....what if?....gone wiv Nath... hurt....she ain't....”.
I start to whimper and then I hear Gill, I hear her shout come from across the car park,
“OI! What the hell are you doing? Sling your hooks you two. How DARE you treat that girl the way you did Shay. How DARE you come back here now and try and get into her flat? Get back in that death trap of a car and go back to wherever you have been for weeks. You’re not wanted here, I’m disgusted with you both”, her defence of me makes me sob.
I hear Shay's voice, loud and pleading, “Gill, last night...fuckin' disappeared...don't know where...worried... Jock said...seeing some other bloke”, my noisy tears make the words hard to distinguish.
I hear Gill laugh mockingly, her voice louder and easier to hear “Oh I see, jealousy brought you here did it? The poor girl is only seventeen and you’ve hurt her enough. Leave her alone. You both
need to go, NOW”, I hear footsteps, pub door slamming, car doors opening, engine, tyre squeal. Gone.
I flop tearfully down on my bed and I inhale Nico's aftershave in the pillow. I remind myself that Ibiza is coming, that this will all be behind me, that I can find a new place to belong. I stave off the tears. I pick myself up eventually, I put the lights back on. I finish my coursework and start to think about food, limited options available in my empty fridge. I also feel like I should go and apologise to Gill for having to fend off my visitors so while my elderly jacket spud is nuked in the microwave, I slip on my trainers and head to the bar.
In my combats and my Morgan t-shirt, I feel a bit chilly but it's a shout across the car park that makes my skin goosebump. “Little Red!”. Fuck.
I run, I turn and run like a coward, back towards the flat but they’re quicker, they always fucking are and they position themselves between me and the door. The sight of them makes me gasp, it hits me like a hard punch to the stomach, an actual body blow that takes my breath away. Lee looks so incredibly tired. He actually looks ill, his skin is dry and he looks desperately run down. His hair is a total mess and my first thought, which I squash immediately, is that he needs looking after, he needs to be cared for. His clothes look grubby. Shay looks similarly worn, his cheekbones look bruised, black circles around his eyes, his skin is pallid, he's got loads of angry looking spots and a deep breath suggests that Shay is also in desperate need of a shower. Their eyes are circles of questions as they stare at me.
“Where you been at Shortie, me and him, we was worried?”, Lee's voice is soft but it's a trigger and I screech-scoff,
“WORRIED? You were WORRIED? Who the fuck are you to worry about me, eh? You've got new girlfriends to worry about now, go bother them, yeah? I don't want your worry. Fuck off”, I make a move towards the door.
Shay's voice is assertive, “There ain't no girlfriends Little Red”.
I spit, “Oh good, oh wonderful. Just casual fucking then, eh? So pleased I got the floor show when I did, if it's just a casual thing. Lucky, lucky me”, the sarcasm drips from me, from my new armour.
The truth is though, that I can't sustain it, not with them stood in front of me looking like the Lost Boys. I can't ignore the stabbing pain in my chest from just how vulnerable they look, I can't entirely silence that urge to put it right for them. The anger I feel right now, it's actually directed at myself because there's a big part of me that wants to lead them up the stairs to our home and forget that the last month happened.
Lee’s voice is a whisper, “I never...I never fucked her Shortie, never fucked nobody since you and me. Swear down. It's only you Lor, it's only been you”, Lee's voice cracks.
I feel a part of my plasticised heart melt at his words, relief sweeping through me. I believe him. Lee never lies to me. Nobody else. Shay looks in agony, he growls and viciously kicks the wooden supporting post of the porch. He has fucked someone else. I saw him do it, he made sure that I did. It probably wasn't the only time.
Shay stops kicking and storms over to me looming over me, “You just dropped it on us, y’know, Ibiza an’ you leavin' for fucking months? You...you know that ain't somethin' we could handle good. But you just drop it, no chat or question, you're just fuckin' goin’? For fucking MONTHS?! You expect us to be OK wi' tha’ shit Lor? I was a cunt doin' wha' I did, you think I don't know tha'? You think I don't wanna fuckin' go back and stop myself? But you....you gotta understand I was so angry, so...fuck Lor, I'm...”, Shay throws his hands up in frustration.
He's wearing some really dirty looking polo shirt that I've never seen before and his battered jeans, the ones I'd packed for him for the Sunday trip home. Four weeks ago. He looks thin, he looks feral and he smells. He looks like he's hurting.
My new friend, the soft speaking, harsh, cold one, she comes out to play though, silencing the soft girl who want to hug him and hold him close, “You're what Shay? You're what? Sorry? You knew how much I loved you and you did that. You let me walk in on you fucking her just because you were pissed off at what I’d told you? You did it to hurt me on purpose. It was so cruel”, the last two words are a sob that I can't hold back. He looks ruined, his head hanging.
I turn to Lee, trying to prevent a full on collapse, “And YOU! I loved you so much Lee and you watched me as you kissed her. You watched me. I never thought you'd....I never thought you'd hurt me like that Lee, not you”. Lee looks broken, he looks like he's in actual physical pain.
I have my own brand of cruelty to offer though, as I sneer at them both, “Anyway, it doesn't matter why you're here, I'm past caring. I've been shagging Nico for weeks since you left, every night for four weeks and it was fucking amazing. I want you both to just fuck off, I don’t want you here, we're finished”, at my words, they physically recoil, both looking devastated. Good.
I turn and walk towards the door of the flat, circling round them where they stand in stunned silence. I shut the door behind me, I get up the stairs, I even get the baked potato out of the microwave and start to butter it but then my strength runs out and I start to fall. I start to crumble, sinking to the cold, tiled floor of the kitchen as I weep. I sob the sort of aching sobs that make your sinuses hurt and your breathing go crazy. The sobs become so savage that my hearing is affected and I don't hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
I don't hear anything until Lee’s in the kitchen doorway, his voice ragged, “I'm so sorry Lor, I'm so fuckin' sorry. I don't care 'bout you bein' wiv that Nico, I love you Shortie, so fuckin' much. When Jock said....when he said that we was over, that you was wiv some other bloke. I....it killed me. I've been tryin' to get to you for weeks but we....we never had no petrol money, we couldn't never get back here. Then we saw Jock yesterday and he gave us the dough to get to you, been wantin' to get to you for so fuckin' long”, Lee's voice cracks and he closes his eyes but continues, “Then last night....when you wouldn't say nothin', when you got them boys to lift us out the club and you fuckin' disappeared.....This ain't over, I ain't losing you Lor..I love you Shortie...I can't lose you.....I...”, and that's when I see Lee Barrett cry for the first ever time.
Awful, gasping sobs, his hands hiding his face, Lee’s big body twisted away from me as he slumps against the door frame. He’s shaking with the effort of containing his tears. I love Lee and his pain is my pain, his loss is my loss. I don't realise that I've moved until I touch him, I don't flinch as he pulls away, hiding his face from me, hiding his weakness. I don't back off, I can't. I don't know how it happens but my hand is on his face, my fingers dripping with his tears and in seconds, we are pressed against each other, our lips fused, my tears mixing with his, my heart beating against his. I am kissing him with desperation, with fear, with anger and his fingers are holding me so tight that he's hurting me but I don't care. I don't care what we've done, what he's done. It's like coming home, kissing Lee.
As we cling together, tongues clumsy due to our ragged breathing, a second set of footsteps comes up the stairs. Lee and I pull apart, eyes warily scanning each other.
Shay’s voice trembles from the doorway, “I'll...I'll go, yeah? This...wha' I did...I guess it's proper fucked up now, you don't want...we're done, yeah, me and Little Red...but you and Lee, you got a different....”, I have never heard Shay sound so completely lost.
I look at Lee who looks like he's literally torn in two, he looks in agony. I look at Shay, those sparkling blue eyes dulled by the fear at the verdict that Lee or I might deliver. He looks like he's braced for pain.
We know it though, we don't need to say anything.
There’s no way either of us can let him leave. He would never survive on his own. Neither of us will survive without him. His head slumped, his breathing is as ragged as Lee's and he doesn't see me walk towards him. My hand on his arm jolts him, his eyes wide and wet as he watches me. My arms snake round his narrow waist and with a gasp from him, I pull him into a hug, not caring that he stinks, not caring that he was so cruel. I don't care beca
use I don't know who I am without him, without Lee. I am lost in this accelerated adulthood, without them by my side. Shortie. Little Red. Lor. That's who I am. It's who they make me. I can’t leave them.
I don't kiss Shay. I can't. Right now, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to again. I’m too hurt, too angry. Lee's crime was less, it was softer. I've fucked Nico, Lee's offence was only a kiss. We talk very little, there's too much to say to know where to start. I change the Nico-scented bed as a courtesy. I make up two beds. I make tea for them, I silently unpack the Costco boxes as they bring the BMW back into the car-park. I put their toiletries back in the bathroom. I put out their towels. I put a load of washing on, dealing with Shay's stinking clothes and both of them have showers. They plug the Playstation back in. It starts to look like the skeleton of normal life, the flesh of our existence that sits over those bones is brutalised and painful though.
I quietly tell them that I’ll be staying at Han's tonight, that I'll see them tomorrow. I tell them to stay away from Gill, that I'll talk to her. Lee's face is anxious, Shay looks defeated but they nod gently. I tell them to sleep in the beds I've made for them.
“Little Red....is....is this for good now? Are we home now, proper? Can we go back to how it was? “, the hope in Shay's voice makes me feel like a complete bitch.