by Lily Morton
The woman on reception had obviously been briefed on secrecy but she’d recognised Bram immediately without him showing any ID and readily directed us upstairs to the 10th floor.
When the lift doors open it proves to be a private waiting room which is full of Sid’s loved ones. I instantly see Seth sitting staring into space. Viv is slumped against him talking softly while she strokes his hair. Mick sits next to her looking grey and older somehow with all of his normal jollity gone. He’s listening to a small, sharp suited man talk rapidly to him. I can’t hear what he’s saying but Mick has a strange look of distaste on his face which looks wrong in place of his usual big smile.
As the doors open everyone glances up and Matt exclaims and strides over to us taking Bram in his arms in a big, comforting hug. He looks haggard, dressed in ratty old jeans and a creased navy polo shirt, and Bram clings to him listening to him speak intently, but one hand keeps hold of mine and he draws me close until all three of us are sharing a hug.
“Where’s Charlie?” Bram asks, and Matt points over to a window half hidden by a hot drinks dispenser where I see Charlie slumped, staring out in utter stillness as if hypnotised.
Bram gives me a quick hug and guides me fully into Matt’s arms. “I’m going to have a word,” he says. “Stay with Matt a stòr.”
I nod and as he moves away Matt hugs me, clinging tightly for a second as if seeking comfort himself. “I’m so fucking glad that you’re with him. He’d be spinning out if you weren’t here. Sid’s everything to him, like his brother.”
“Like you,” I remind him. “And you’re here babe. He’d have been fine.”
He stares at me silently for a second and then shakes his head. “I’m not you Al. You calm him like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Part of me wants so much to believe this, that I mean something special in Bram’s world, but a bigger part is ashamed of myself to be thinking of that at this time so I shrug and change the subject.
“How is he?” I ask in what I hope is a low voice. With the fluctuation in my hearing that’s always a bit of a crapshoot.
Matt shrugs and pulls me over to the drinks dispenser. “Do you want a cup of tea?” I nod and as he goes through the motions of counting the money and pressing buttons he says clearly, “We don’t know yet. Seth found him. He’d been trying to ring him and got a bad feeling, so thank God he went over because Sid was on his own in a puddle of vomit and blood.”
I wince and he mutters ‘sorry’. “He was on his own?” I clarify and he shoots me a dark look.
“Afterwards he was on his own. Whether he got there before on his own is another story.”
“No Leah?”
He shakes his head. “No, that bitch has made herself very scarce. Makes me wonder how she knows not to blow Sid’s phone up like normal asking for money to score or pretty clothes.” He smiles darkly. “Almost as if she knows not to bother eh?”
I’m shocked. “You think that she knew and left him? Who does that?”
He shoots me a sad smile. “There are bad people in this world babe, you and I both know that, and there’s no more selfish creatures than addicts. They’re like succubae draining the life out of everyone.”
I rub his arm consolingly. He’s been friends with Sid longer than Bram, and must be suffering just as much. I watch Bram talking urgently to Charlie and then drawing him into a tight hug but Charlie still holds his body tightly. “Where’s Mabe?” I ask, suddenly missing her. “I would have thought she’d have been straight here by Charlie’s side.”
He shrugs. “No one’s managed to get hold of her. She and Charlie have been distant for the last few weeks. She’s been avoiding him. Mick went outside to try her again about half an hour ago when he went down to see about some food. I wish she was here though. She’s who Charlie needs most at this moment and Sid’s practically her brother.” I look at him in query and he nods. “She grew up next door to Charlie and Sid. They’ve always been really tight.”
We’re drawn from our discussion when the lift doors ping and open and Mabe steps out, her long red hair loose and dishevelled. The noise attracts Charlie and Bram’s attention and then Charlie makes a choked, agonised noise and moves quickly, pushing past us and throwing himself into her open arms burying his head in her neck and shuddering.
“Charlie, Charlie,” she soothes, stroking his hair. “It’s okay babe. I’m here. I’m here.” He clings closer muttering something, and Matt and I move away towards Bram who draws us down into the seats next to the others after we’ve hugged them.
Bram nods at Charlie. “He’ll be better now,” he says seriously. “He just needed Mabe.”
Matt shoots him a look. “Why?” he asks and I’m surprised. The depth of feeling between the two of them is obvious even to me, so why Matt needs to ask that is beyond me.
Bram looks at him surprised too. “Because he’s in love with her,” he says patiently.
“Hmm.” Matt is carefully not looking at him. “Fancy that. He needs her because he’s in love with her. Do you think that he knows?”
Bram stares at him and then talks very slowly as if to someone not quite right in the head. “I presume so Matt or he’s denying it all the way. Either way it’s a done deal for Charlie. Really, why are we having this conversation Matty? You know this as much as I do.”
“Sorry,” Matt says meekly but his sharp gaze that spins between the two of us makes me squirm with its hidden meaning.
I become aware of the sharp suited man still talking and whisper to Matt, “Who is that?”
“That’s Bill the manager,” he says with a sneer.
I turn back with interest to find him talking now to Bram and Seth. “All I’m saying is that we can still spin this. If he gets better we’ll talk about his inspiration to get clean which will be the music and you boys. If he doesn’t …”
“If he doesn’t?” Bram says in a voice which makes me cold. His fists are clenching and Seth reaches out a warning hand and squeezes one of them but Bill is oblivious.
“Well if he doesn’t it will be tragic of course, but he’ll be an icon like Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison. You know what James Dean said, live fast …”
“If you fucking finish that sentence you’ll regret it,” Seth growls and Bill squeaks.
“Well, no need to take it like that Seth. That’s what I’m paid for you know, to manage these situations to their optimal value.”
“No you’re not,” Bram spits. “You’re paid to manage our deals. We’d hoped a nice side line of knowing us would you be developing a heart and a conscience but that was obviously fucking far off the mark.”
“Bram you’re very emotional as normal,” Bill soothes and I glare at him for taking such a patronising tone, like Bram’s some sort of airhead. “It’s not ‘The Wizard of Oz’ you know.”
He gives a smug smile at his cleverness which dies quickly as Bram leans into him, his voice thick with his accent which happens when his emotions are high. “Obviously not because then you’d have enough brains to know not to utter smart fucking remarks and talk to Sid’s brothers about him dying.” His hand clenches. “He’s not dead yet you piece of shit so I propose that you get your bony, fucking arse out of this room that is full of the people who love him and come back when we need you to spin something.” He moves forward menacingly when Bill sits stunned. “Now!” he thunders and Bill leaps up doing his best to look indignant rather than frightened and not succeeding. He mutters something that I can’t catch and running his hand through his sparse hair he leaves rapidly.
Seth claps a hand on Bram’s shoulder. “Nicely said,” he grumbles. “Now let’s all calm down because we’re in for a long wait.”
Bram looks at him. “The longer the better Seth. That could only mean good news.”
We settle down into the seats and fall into an exhausted silence. After a bit I can feel my eyes start to droop and I jerk myself awake a couple of times until Bram grabs my shoulder with his good arm, guiding me to lie across the spar
e seat next to me and put my head in his lap. “Sleep a stòr,” he says. “We can’t do much at the moment and you’re asleep in your chair.”
“Oh no,” I say, startled. “I won’t do that. You said that you needed me.”
He smiles steadily. “I do and you help me just by being here. Lie down and let me stroke your hair. It soothes me.” I give in reluctantly feeling his hard thighs under my shoulder and his warm strong hand with the long fingers threading steadily through my hair, while he conducts a low voiced conversation with Seth and Matt and Viv sleeps, her long hair spread over Seth’s leg. The conversation continues lulling me and I drift.
I don’t know how long it is but I’m jerked awake when Bram’s body goes ramrod stiff under my head and I become aware of loud voices. Jerking upright I push my hair back and screw in my hearing aid which has become loose, while looking blearily around. Two doctors in white coats and even whiter tired faces are talking to Charlie who seems to be being almost held up by Mabe.
I look in alarm to Bram as the normal disconnect between my hearing and my brain that happens when I sleep takes a while to fade. Bram wraps his hand around my neck almost as if seeking comfort and I caress his arm smiling reassuringly at him. He closes his eyes for a second and then gets to his feet and moves reluctantly over to the huddle with Seth as if he’s going to the scaffold.
They all confer together and I look worriedly at Matt before glancing back in time to see Charlie almost collapse. Bram and Seth grab him tight and they merge into one tight hug. My hand goes to my mouth and I look at Matt almost afraid to voice my fear. If Sid died this will destroy Bram and the others. Then I see Matt smile cautiously and turning I see Charlie smiling and shaking the doctors’ hands. Bram disengages and comes striding to us his face alive with happiness and looking ten years younger. “He’s alright,” he says and Matt slumps in relief.
“How is he?”
Bram shrugs. “He’s alive, that’s the most important thing at the moment and there’s no brain damage thank God.” He crosses himself looking so much like a good Irish schoolboy that I smile involuntarily. “They don’t think there’s any permanent organ damage either but he’s still got to have a load of tests. He’s asleep at the moment and they’ll keep him under for a while, but then he’s got to look at his options. We’ve got to get him clean Matt.”
“We will,” Matt says calmly and I see him for a second clearly as he must have been all these years, the calm to Bram’s mad.
Bram turns and offers me his hand. Letting him pull me to him I exhale as he pulls me close burying his head in my shoulder and breathing deeply in relief. “Thank God eh Alys,” he mutters and I stroke his hair feeling the silky softness.
“Yes Bram. He’s safe now.”
“You’re my good luck charm,” he murmurs and I see Matt smile at us happily.
“She is mate,” he says softly. “She’s definitely yours.”
It’s 5 in the morning and the sky is a beautiful wild looking red when we finally pile into Bram’s flat. I’m first through and I turn to look at Bram as he shuts the door and leans against it with a weary sigh. He looks almost grey and I pat his arm. “You need a nice hot shower babe and then roll into bed.”
He rolls his head against the door looking at me through half closed eyes. “You reckon?”
“You haven’t got anything else on today have you?”
He gives a lopsided non smile. “Only band practice but I think we can safely say that’s been cancelled.”
“Will you go back to the hospital?”
He nods. “Yeah I’m going back in the evening. The day will be taken up by tests so I won’t get to see him anyway.”
“So sleep now,” I urge. “Conserve your strength Bram because this is likely going to be for the long haul.”
He sighs looking absolutely exhausted and I look at him concerned. He’s normally so upbeat and ebullient that it hurts to see him like this. He looks too tired to sleep but I know what will get him moving. I sigh and he looks at me. “Alright?”
“Yes just really tired.” I’m not lying, my body longs for my bed but instantly he shifts away from the door.
“Come on then sweetheart. You need a shower too.” I let him push me down the hall and into my bathroom where I watch bemusedly as he turns the shower on and checks the temperature as if I’m a small child. Seeing me watching him he makes a chivvying gesture and I smile. “I’m not showering until you do Bram.”
He nods. “I’m going. Will you be okay?”
I smile. “I’ll make sure to shout if I get scared.”
He smiles slightly. “You do that.” Then he sobers. “I might do that myself.”
“Bram …” I start but he shakes his head and with a wave leaves me to it which is probably a relief because I don’t know what I would have said anyway.
I unpin my hair and strip off my clothes before sliding into the shower feeling the hot spray hit me and groaning in pleasure. I stay in there a while enjoying the unlimited hot water and scrubbing myself clean of the hospital smell. I’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals over the years, first with the meningitis followed by the years of testing for my hearing, then the final months of mum’s illness and now obviously with my job, and it seems to me that all hospitals have that smell combining bleach and decay.
Finally squeaky clean I shut the water off and after moisturising my face and body and blow drying my long hair dry I slide my dressing gown on and meander out only to pull up short with a scream. “Jesus Bram,” I shriek. “I might have been naked.”
He’s lying on my bed, a vision in just a pair of pyjama shorts, his skin glowing golden against my white sheets. “I’m disappointed. I can go and come back again,” he smirks.
“What are you doing here?” I ask nervously. I don’t feel ready for witty banter tonight. My emotions are too close to the surface and I can’t be near him when I’m like this in case I let something slip. The thought of him letting me down gently and feeling sorry for me is too painful.
His smile dies and he sits up all the muscles on his abdomen moving powerfully. Hunching over he looks at me from under heavy eyelids and I wait. Finally he smiles hesitantly. “Will you sleep with me?”
“Pardon?” I squeak thinking that my hearing aid must be malfunctioning.
“Will you sleep with me?” he signs and for a second I’m diverted.
“When did you learn that one?” Bram’s been learning every day now for a few weeks and he’ll constantly surprise me with little sayings in sign language, which are surprising because of their complexity.
It’s Bram that’s taken to it so easily, maybe because he’s so in control of his body and his quicksilver mind. Surprisingly Matt has had more difficulty, and Bram and I have been driven to hysterical laughter sometimes when his signing goes drastically wrong. Once he’d told us seriously that his goat had been flattened when he’d actually been trying to explain why he had a flat tyre. I snort and hold up my hand. “No, don’t bother. It was the first thing that you asked to learn wasn’t it?”
He looks indignant. “Alys you malign me baby. It was actually the second. I learnt how to sign fuck off Matty you sanctimonious twat first.”
I laugh out loud and it feels good after the tension. For a second he seems caught in my smile and some of the shadows over him lift a little but then he slumps. “Will you?” he asks quietly, so quietly that I almost don’t hear him but then he signs it to make sure that I know what he’s asking.
“Why?”
He struggles to speak for a second. “Because I don’t want to be on my own now. If I have you with me everything is clear. My thoughts don’t hop around and I can sleep.” He looks almost embarrassed to ask, the way that he always does when he thinks that he’s demanding something from someone that they’re not willing to give. Some lessons are hard learnt I suppose, but I don’t think there’s many people that can be around Bram as an adult and not do what he wants. I certainly can’t.
I wrinkle my nose. “Not sure that’s very flattering,” I say gently wanting him to smile again but he just stares at me and I sigh. “I’m not sure this is the best idea that you’ve ever had but of course I will.”
“You will?” He looks almost surprised as if he’d expected me to say no.
“Well of course I will. You need me so I’ll be there.”
He falls silent looking at me closely as if I’m some sort of rare exhibit at a museum, and then he holds out his hand. I gulp feeling his warm, dry skin against me and the strength in his fingers as they clasp mine so gently. He’s unusually silent and it influences me so we walk quietly up the stairs to his room. I’ve only been in here once when I was helping him with his arm and I didn’t get a proper look then, so when he opens the door and ushers me in I look around avidly, inhaling the wonderful warm smell of grapefruit and sandalwood that the room seems to be saturated in.
It’s a huge room running the whole length of the flat with floor to ceiling windows giving a spectacular view of the early morning sun hitting the London skyline and skipping sunbeams across the slow moving river. A gigantic, modern, platform bed made of light oak rests against the exposed brick wall. Anyone lying there at night would see the backdrop of London picked out in twinkling, primary colours.
The covers are gold and grey striped cotton, and messy and ruffled where he’d obviously rolled out of bed in response to the late night phone call. By the windows are two huge, grey velvet sofas which look deep and inviting. A flat screen TV is against another brick wall with an entertainment centre underneath it, and four guitars are resting against the wall along with a sheaf of loose paper lying on the floor with music running across it in Bram’s slashing hand. I turn and find him watching me closely and I flush slightly.
He smiles. “Not what you were expecting a mhuirnin?”
I smile. “It’s so normal. I was expecting at least to find disco balls and stripper poles.”