Unplugged: A Blue Phoenix Book

by Swallow, Lisa

  Her expression is loaded. I never noticed how pale she looks, her face lined by tiredness, and guilt over my anger with her seeps in.

  “No, but if you’re not talking to me, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Cerys gathers up the paper and sticky tape. “We should talk but later.” She indicates Ella. “It’s awkward enough me being here without...”

  I wait for her words, to see how she describes this. “Without?”

  She takes a short breath before turning her face to me. “Without kissing the engaged rock star who’s looking for a bit of fun.”

  Her words stun. “What?”

  “I’m not naive, Liam.” She walks past with the wrapping paper. “Thank you for your offer to take us into town, I’ll get my coat.”

  This woman’s strength comes from the ability to shut down her emotions; my weakness is that I never can.

  ****

  “Does that kid fall asleep every time she goes out in the car?” I mutter as we arrive into the town.

  “I’ll wake her up, and then you can drop us at the top of the street.”

  Not wanting to miss my planned opportunity to talk, I pull up at the edge of the car park, beneath the stark winter branches of the beech trees. Cerys makes to get out of the car but I place a hand on her arm to stop her.

  “Let’s deal with this. We have to stay in the same house for Christmas and I’m uncomfortable enough without you getting shitty with me because I kissed you.”

  Cerys looks sharply over her shoulder at Ella. “Liam! I’ve asked you not to swear when Ella’s around.”

  “She’s asleep.” I push on. “Look, sorry if kissing me was a mistake but it happened.”

  “Liam, this is wrong. We’re wrong. You’re engaged to someone else.”

  “No, I’m not. The engagement’s off.”

  Cerys’s mouth parts in surprise. “Oh. Okay. Louise never said.”

  “Lou doesn’t know. Honey had an affair. I broke off the engagement and came back here.” The words are stiff, she’s the first person I’ve told.

  Cerys’s eyes soften, searching mine as if looking for a hurt she can acknowledge. “I’m sorry, Liam. That’s horrible.” She pauses. “No wonder you’re looking for something to take your mind off her.”

  “I’m not, don’t put yourself down like that! I’m attracted to you; I kissed you. You think this is about what else I want? Well, I sure as hell wasn’t intending on dragging you to bed and using you. If you knew anything about me, you’d know I don’t do that!”

  Cerys studies her hands. “Okay, sorry. Let’s forget about it.”

  “If that’s what you want,” I say, irritation still tingeing my words.

  “I get you’re hurting. I’m hurting too. We won’t find a solution to that with each other, will we?”

  Cerys shifts in her seat to face me and in the small space of the car, her perfume triggers the memory of her lips on mine yesterday. The soft lips I stare at and no longer hear any more of what she’s saying.

  “I like you,” I blurt.

  “What?”

  “I like you. Well, I could elaborate, but I don’t want slapping.”

  Cerys’s response is interrupted by the sound of Ella’s coat rustling and her mumbling. I look over at the bleary-eyed girl.

  “Are we there? Where’s Santa?” Ella struggles with her child restraint.

  Cerys chews her bottom lip, and then shakes her head slightly before climbing out of the car. As she frees her daughter from the car seat, I lean over so I can see Cerys’s face.

  “Don’t forget to ask Santa what you want for Christmas,” I say to Cerys.

  Cerys makes a sound of amusement and doesn’t reply.

  “I want Santa to bring my daddy for Christmas,” announces Ella.

  I turn back and look out of the windscreen in case Cerys’s eyes fill with tears. Crying women will be the death of me.

  ****

  I don’t go home. Pissed off with the complicated situation I’ve created, I decide to fill my day with the original reason I came back. Christmas. I spend the morning soaking up the atmosphere – the Christmas trees adorning every shop, the crappy festive music in every store, the combination of stress and excitement amidst the other shoppers. Nobody recognises me, or lets on if they do. I’m not that interesting in my home town. A couple of elderly ladies who knew me years ago say hello, but I avoid stopping to speak to them.

  I should buy Christmas gifts but as usual, I have no idea what to get people. Lou promised she’d come shopping in London with me one day, a treat before Christmas. Maybe I should see if Cerys and Ella want to come too. No. Bad idea.

  I retreat to a local cafe and buy a bacon sandwich and coffee before tucking myself into a corner away from the window. The windows are steamed from the heat of bodies and the meals cooking. I used to come here with the rest of the guys after school, and I swear it hasn’t been redecorated since. Different owners, but the same yellowing posters advertising fish and chips as ‘the best meal money can buy’ still adorn the walls.

  Yawning, I pull out my switched off phone. If I’m around I could give Cerys a ride back home, but I don’t have her number. If I switch my phone on, I would be assailed with messages from my ex so I tuck it away again.

  Ex. I’ve thought about Honey more today than any point since I left her, in an attempt to rationalise kissing Cerys as okay. Cerys is right though, what we’re doing is a stupid idea, but the niggling part of me who wants to take care of and protect this woman and her daughter confuses. I can’t rewind to a one off kiss years ago. We’re worlds apart now. Look at what happened to Dylan and Sky; they fell apart after a couple of months. Dylan won’t tell me why but I can guess; Blue Phoenix can’t co-exist with the ordinary.

  Why can’t I be more like Jem and have my fun then drop the girl? I smirk to myself, at my non-rock star behaviour. I did all that shit a few years back, and it wasn’t for me. I want stability in a relationship, something I thought I’d found with Honey. Ha fucking ha. If the extraordinary won’t work, doesn’t trying the ordinary make sense?

  I stare at the flaking paint on the wall next to me. Cerys isn’t ordinary; she’s beautiful and strong. Sexy as hell. And unobtainable.

  The day heads toward afternoon and hasn’t brightened, a typical Welsh winter with the bonus of the sky darkening with snow clouds. White Christmas. The giddy kid, Liam, sneaks in. How awesome would it be to go sledging, or build snowmen?

  I walk along the main street, beanie tugged over my ears and decide to check a couple of stores on my way back to the car, in case Cerys is still around somewhere. There aren’t many shops so this doesn’t take long, and I locate her in what passes as a department store in the High Street. I approach her and Ella spots me first.

  “Mummy! Uncle Liam’s here! Show him the picture of Santa.” She scrabbles around in her mum’s bag.

  “I was about to go back to Mum and Dad’s. Did you want a ride?”

  Cerys hands the picture to her daughter. “Oh. Okay, thanks. I just need to get a couple more things.”

  Ella thrusts the picture into my face and I nod, not paying attention, before turning back to Cerys. I only have to be a few feet from her and I can sense what’s between us. This isn’t me wanting to kiss a girl from my past; this is me wanting the girl from my past. Cerys smiles and we’re locked in another hesitant moment together. My stomach lurches, the teenage feelings from last night taking over. I have to do something, take her somewhere, tell her. Show her.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah. What did you need? I’ll help. I think it’s going to snow, so we should get back.”

  “Gift wrap and chocolates.”

  “‘Kay.”

  I drag myself away from her. She dizzies me without touching, distracts me from everything but an obsession with putting my mouth on hers again, holding her, taking her to bed. Not good, Liam.

  Is there an art to choosing the right Christmas gift-wrap? I sta
re at the selection. There’s fuckloads of colours and rolls. I grab the nearest roll covered in cartoon Santas and holly and turn toward the checkout.

  A woman with blonde wavy hair stares at me, blue eyes widened in surprise. Sky. What the hell is she doing here? I met her once at Dylan’s party. This is the girl responsible for Dylan’s retreat into the realm of the broken-hearted over the last few months. If Sky is here in St Davids, then Dylan must be. I look around for him too, but he’s not close by. Shit, if he sees I have to explain because he knows about my history with Cerys.

  “Hey, Liam. I thought you were in the States for Christmas?” she asks.

  “Yeah. I was. Decided to come home instead. Missing the place, you know. How come you’re here?”

  “Dylan’s visiting his gran.”

  Typical, after years of never coming home he chooses this year. “Really? Wow. St Davids prodigal son returns.”

  “I think this is tough for him, Liam.”

  Ostracised by his family for his lifestyle a few years back was tough for him, but when his mum died, Dylan pretended St Davids didn’t exist anymore. “Yeah, I know the stories, Sky. I’m just surprised that’s all. I’m also surprised to see you with him.”

  Sky tucks her hair behind her ear, the white plastic bag in her hand rustling as she does. Are they together again? I was surprised when Dylan chose to come back to the UK for Christmas because he never does. Accompanied by the cautious happiness for Dylan is a voice in my head saying ‘see, it can work with people outside of the lifestyle’.

  “I’m glad though. You’re good for him,” I say.

  Sky’s attention is taken by something else and blood drains from my head as Cerys approaches.

  “Did you find anything?” she asks then pauses and glances between Sky and me.

  Sky attempts to hide her surprise. She knows I’m engaged to Honey, but not that the situation is now ‘was’ engaged to Honey. The rest of the world doesn’t know yet and I’m not ready for them to think the worst about me and another woman. The stupidity at wandering around with Cerys in public hits. My comfort with being back in my past has disengaged my brain.

  Cerys steps away from me, her attempt to show we’re not together probably confirms everything Sky is thinking. Cerys shifts her look to me and the panic in her face is clear.

  “Sky, this is Cerys.”

  The two women eye each other. “Dylan’s Sky?”

  “Uncle Liam, did you find the chocolates?” pipes up Ella. Holy crap, I’d forgotten about her. Newspaper headlines about Liam Oliver and his secret love child flash across my vision.

  “Oh, you’re Liam’s sister!” Sky’s face brightens in relief.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Me and Cerys look at each other, probably reinforcing further the dodginess of the situation.

  “No, she’s not. She’s a friend,” I say.

  Cerys’s hands tremble as she reaches into her bag and pulls out her purse. “I’ll pay for those, Liam.” She takes the Christmas wrapping paper from my hands and heads for the checkout.

  “Don’t say anything to Dylan,” I say to Sky the moment Cerys is out of earshot.

  “This is none of my business, Liam.”

  I bloody hope so. “She’s a friend.”

  “That’s fine. You don’t need to justify yourself to me. It’s your life.”

  Cerys returns with her purchase and I hastily excuse myself, telling Sky to say hello to Dylan. I can’t get out of the situation fast enough.

  I head down the street toward the car park, striding ahead of Cerys.

  “Liam! Wait up!” she calls, “I can’t walk so fast with Ella!”

  I halt and turn to her. “I have to get home.”

  “Is this because of Sky? We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “No. But it feels like I am, I’m stupid. What if the press gets hold of this?”

  “Of what?”

  I guide Cerys by the arm so we’re out of the flow of people. “I am... was engaged to Honey, and now I’m in Wales with a woman and a little girl. What do you think will be said about who the little girl is?”

  Her brow creases with confusion and I watch the realisation hit. “You’re not Ella’s dad, that’s ridiculous!”

  I snort. “We’re talking about the media here, Cerys. What if you get pulled into this? Shit!”

  “Liam, language around Ella!” she hisses.

  “Sorry, I’m just stressed. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I rub my neck. “Let’s go home.”

  “I’m tired!” Ella says to her mum. “Can you carry me?”

  “You shouldn’t have got up so early,” says Cerys. “You’ll have to walk, it’s not far.”

  I catch sight of a couple of teenage girls across the street who have stopped and are staring at me. Each minute that passes, the harder I want to smack myself. I’m not Dylan or Jem, but I’m the bassist in the biggest rock band in the world. What the fuck am I doing pretending I’m some average guy visiting his hometown for Christmas?

  “I can put her on my shoulders if that’s okay? Seriously, I want out of here as soon as possible.” I incline my head toward the girls. Another minute and one of them will have their phone out taking pictures.

  Cerys nods and I lean down to Ella. “You okay to sit on my shoulders?”

  Ella beams. “Please!”

  We head down the street at a pace Cerys struggles to keep up with, the giggling child clinging to my head.

  “Look!” Ella tugs my hair and I wince and stop.

  Her favourite pigs are on display in the window and we pause to look. I roll my eyes at Cerys. The soft look Cerys gave me a couple of days ago when I gave in to Ella over the TV is back. To my surprise, she reaches out and squeezes my hand.

  “You’re a good guy, Liam, thank you.”

  Women are confusing.

  And I need to get home.

  CHAPTER 8

  CERYS

  Ella scrawls circles on the paper with her crayons, drawing her third Santa of the day as I wash up the dishes and gaze out the window. Liam was right. Snowflakes drift slowly onto the hedges bordering his parents’ garden. He’s out now, Linda and Jim are home with Lou, and I’m trying to keep a low profile in the kitchen. Even though I’ve been here a week, I still feel awkward and intrusive. Nobody treats me any differently than family members, but even though I’ve been a family friend for years, staying here with my four-year-old daughter is a big ask.

  When my parents told me there was no room for us, that was a kick in the teeth. Even bigger, the fact they’re flying to Florida for Christmas and leaving an empty house I could stay in. After almost five years, their whore of a daughter who got pregnant at seventeen and lived in sin with the baby’s father is still ostracised. I gave up caring about what they think of me years ago, but how they reject Ella too hurts.

  I wipe my soapy hands on a tea towel and pick up my phone. No messages from Craig. Ella is desperate to talk to her Daddy but the only calls I’ve had are when he’s drunk and she’s in bed. Craig won’t explain to me what’s happening or why he won’t let us move back home. I understand telling him I had doubts about our relationship pissed him off, but forcing us to leave was wrong. I’m disgusted he’d do this to his own daughter, but Craig never had much to do with her anyway. Always working or out with his mates, he never accepted the changes to lifestyle that go hand in hand with teen parenthood. We’re not teens anymore, but the majority of our friends are carefree and still get to act like they are. Craig refuses to accept he’s not the same.

  Now I’m stuck. No home, no job, no money. Nowhere to live. I’m grateful to Lou’s parents for taking me in so I don’t spend Christmas with Ella in a motel room; but after Christmas, I have a huge battle ahead. I’ve made calls to find out what benefits I’m entitled to until I can get myself a job, and begun to look into my options; keeping focused on this, stops me dwelling on the heartbreak.

  Is heartbreak the right word? My relationship with Craig would’ve
ended years ago if it weren’t for Ella, or more correctly, the fact I couldn’t manage on my own financially. Now that decision has been made for me. Maybe he’s having an affair. Or whatever you call an affair if you’re not married.

  I’ll fight him for everything he owes us. He can’t do this to Ella; she deserves more, and that’s why the anger rips into me further, each time Ella asks where he is.

  Louise appears next to me and takes the towel from my hands. She looks down at the phone too. “Shit-for-brains hasn’t called yet then?” she asks.

  “Craig? No.”

  Louise makes a humph noise and picks up a saucepan to dry. “Do you know where Liam went?”

  “No.” Liam, God that’s another problem. I inhale against the butterfly queasiness I get when I think about him.

  “Liam came to the shops,” pipes up Ella. “I saw Santa.”

  “Really? Liam went to see Santa?” Louise’s brow creases.

  “No, he just took us down there to save us getting the bus.” I concentrate hard on the washing up, knowing my best friend will read any betraying sign of what I’m thinking.

  “I like Liam,” says Ella, “he’s nice.”

  “He is nice,” says Louise, walking over to Ella. “What are you drawing?”

  “Santa. Mummy likes Liam too.”

  I watch the snow settle on the windowsill and brace myself for Louise’s response. “Your mummy knows Liam from a long time ago.”

  “But Mummy held Liam’s hand,” continues Ella.

  Heat creeps into my cheeks, Ella’s words sound worse than they are. When Louise doesn’t respond, I place the mug I’m washing on the drainer and turn to her.

  “You’re holding hands with Liam now?” she asks.

  I huff. “He was being nice to Ella and I squeezed his hand to say thank you.”

  My explanation sounds weirder than the truth and doesn’t fool Louise. “Oh?”

  “And he let me sit on his shoulders! He’s really tall and I could see for miles!” says Ella.

  “Very cosy,” remarks Louise.

  “We saw someone in town he knew and he wanted...” I sigh, refusing to justify myself. “Never mind.”