by G J Morgan
“I suppose that’s the one positive of having a stalker. There’s always someone two steps behind.”
“Don’t laugh, but that actually went through my head. That’s probably why I jumped. Perhaps I knew someone would save me.”
“What, you knew I was watching you?”
“Not you, but I sensed someone was out there.”
“What, did you hear me?”
“No, never. But I just had this feeling. It’s hard to explain, I just knew I wasn’t alone. I still can’t believe I didn’t realize this was your spot. I remember Frank checking everywhere after those photos hit, including here.”
“What can I say? I cover my tracks well.”
“Frank must be getting sloppy.”
* * *
“Do you actually watch movies from the present day? Or do they have to be made before 1960?”
She laughed. “Bad, really, seeing as I’m an actress and all. I should take a mild interest in present day, shouldn’t I? Natalie Wood is so pretty isn’t she?” Lilly pointed at the screen. “Warren Beatty’s pretty hot, too. I’m going to grab us something sugary.” She jumped up from the sofa across the room. “Weed brings out my sweet tooth.”
“You want me to pause this?” I went to grab the remote control.
“Not on my account. I’ve seen it like a trillion times. Don’t worry I’ll pretend I’m surprised. I’ll probably cry a little too, I normally do.” She closed the door, leaving me in the dark with the curtains closed.
I put a few more logs on the fire, more coal.
“Here, cookies and pot. Doesn’t get much better than that does it?” she said, sitting herself back in the dent of the sofa, passing me a plate.
“Homemade?”
“I could lie but I won’t, Sally eats them, hides them away thinking I don’t know where.” She grabbed a lighter off the side table. “This is the last joint we have by the way.”
“I don’t think I’ll have much more, Lilly, you have it. It’s been a little while since I smoked like this, I don’t wanna turn green and start yacking in your sink.”
“And there was me thinking you was a seasoned vet.” She took a drag, inhaled and exhaled. “So what did I miss?” she said, pointing at the TV.
“The father doesn’t look in a good way. I think he’s about to lose everything.”
Lilly leant over and grabbed the remote.
“What you doing? I was watching that.” Lilly was fast-forwarding the film again.
“I always skip the sad bits.”
It was a strange movie to choose. Love against all odds, abortion, gossip, suicide, beauty. Perhaps this was Lilly’s way of dealing with her own situation. One day she might tell me why she jumped that night, rather than making it into an anecdote we can both joke about. But it wasn’t a joke, I saw the state she was in that night. She meant to jump and she knew what that fall might have led to. For now, I’d have to make do with half-truths and let the TV screen do the talking for her. Speak for yourself, Tom, I thought. I was hardly an open book, was I? Both as bad as each other. Desperate to tell the truth, but scared of what our sincerity might bring.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, mouthful of cookie. “Why don’t you go home?”
“You want me to leave?”
“No, not now. I mean why don’t you go home home?”
“Cos this is my job.”
“I very much doubt this is what the job entailed. Anyways, Vince wouldn’t know would he? It’s not like I’m going to tell him and I know how much you miss home.”
“I suppose I could go, couldn’t I?”
“I promise I will be on my best behaviour. You won’t be missing much. I will be under house arrest until your return.”
“Sounds a good idea.”
“I know. I’m full of them.”
We went back to the movie, well she may have done, my mind was somewhere else.
I didn’t want to go home, well I did, but not yet, not now. It should have been good news, news that any father who hadn’t seen his daughter should have jumped at. But in all honesty, that wasn’t how I felt. Selfishly, wrongfully, regretfully, I was enjoying my time with Lilly too much, this ride we were on was one I didn’t wanna stop.
I was an awful person, a fucking awful father, and an awful son. Mum and Molly should have been my priority, not a girl I’d known for less than a week. I was embarrassed at myself, rather than planning my return home I was racking my brain for reasons not to leave when there weren’t any.
“Or you could just stay? she said. “Or am I being selfish for saying that?”
“I think I should stay, too. At least till Frank is back. I can’t leave you here on your own.”
“What about your Mom? Your little girl?”
“I’ll see them soon enough.”
“Means I’m stuck with you till I leave then?”
“Seems that way.”
She smiled, put another cookie in her mouth, sank deeper into the sofa.
* * *
The film credits rolled. I looked over at Lilly, she was fast asleep. I didn’t want to disturb her, I checked my watch, it wasn’t late at all, the day had just worn her out. I managed to move her legs off my lap without her waking and was about to put a blanket over her, when she whispered for me to take her to bed. So, I did.
Lifted her up, like I did Molly, carried her up the stairs, carefully, took my time to make sure I didn’t wake her. I’d never been upstairs before, so I didn’t know which room was hers, though it was easy to work out, I just followed the mess.
I rested her gently on her bed. I could’ve removed her clothes, sleeping in jeans was hardly ideal, but undressing someone who was asleep felt like too much of a violation, so instead I pulled her bed sheets over her, made sure she wouldn’t be cold, made sure she had a glass of water.
I pulled up the chair beside Lilly’s bed, her room was what I expected, busy, books half read, plants half dead, things thrown that should be placed, things damp that should be dry. For all her wealth and possessions, all the unopened boxes of free samples, the hangers of unworn clothes still in their bags littered around the room, Lilly still seemed to live out of a single suitcase, like she was always prepared to leave. Perhaps that’s how all famous people lived, a life that takes them all over, a life where home doesn’t really exist, just buildings with beds.
She was fast asleep now, tiny snores. I went downstairs, locked the doors, put out the fire, turned off the lights, wrote her a note, drove back to my hotel. Back to a cold bed when I’d just left one much warmer.
12
The room buzzed, the sideboard rattled, shook me awake, from under my duvet I threw out an arm, hoped it hit my phone.
“Hello?” My eyes were closed, my voice not quite ready.
“This is your wake-up call, sir. Rise and shine.”
“Lilly?” I looked over at neon numbers. “It’s, like, four in the morning.”
There was a pause, a muffled response, kept cutting in and out.
“Lilly, I can hardly hear you? Where are you, outside? It sounds noisy.”
“Sorry I was just overtaking. You’re on speaker phone.”
“Where are you?”
“Not entirely sure. I just passed a brown sign saying fifty miles to Heights of Abraham. What the fuck even is that? Sounds biblical? You could’ve warned me it was this far. Lucky I drive fast.”
“Lilly? What is going on?”
“Aren’t you being paid to follow me?”
“Is this a joke?”
“I’ve heard there’s a little village up North. With a pond. Supposed to be nice this time of year so someone keeps telling me.”
“You’re insane.”
“You probably should get a move on. I shouldn’t really talk and drive. This whole left-ha
nd side of the road thing requires maximum concentration. What’s the speed limit again?”
“Lilly, you’re breaking up.”
“I’m going to stop soon. I need sleep.”
“Lilly, you there?” I sat up in my bed. “Lilly?” But she’d hung up.
* * *
I waited outside the hotel just as Lilly’s message told me. Despite the wind, the motorway still hummed, there were no cars, just a blur of trucks and lorries. The only people mad enough to be out that early were those being paid to be behind the wheel.
I recognized Lilly’s licence plate, blacked out and inconspicuous, Frank’s car blended in with every other executive car it was parked next to. I had visions of Lilly bringing the E-Type, lipstick-red, roof down. Thank God, she chose business class, even though it was early, eyes were everywhere no matter what time of day.
I’d left Dot a note. I didn’t want her to worry if she found my room empty, she’d worry herself silly, think the worst. I’d just rung Mum, too, no choice but to wake her up, pre-warn her to expect royalty, knowing her she’d need time to prepare, prepare the house, prepare herself. She asked if we’d be sleeping the night, I said no, though no doubt bed sheets would be boiled and washed regardless, air freshener would be being sprayed, TV polished.
I checked my watch, it made me yawn. Four hours on the road, two more to go, I needed breakfast, caffeine, sugar, I needed a second wind.
“Hey, you?” Lilly shouted across a car roof, a rucksack in one hand, coffees in the other.
“Manage to sleep, then?” I said, taking her bag.
“I did, despite the mattress,” she said. “No milk, right?” handing it to me.
“Thanks.”
“Are you mad with me?”
“I’m not quite sure. I was at first, but it’s worn off. Now I’m just nervous.”
“I’m the one who should be nervous, Tom.”
“It’s no farmhouse. Mum’s house is…”
“Good, my place is too big anyway. How long till we get there?”
“Couple of hours. You OK to follow me?”
“Cool. Just don’t drive slow.”
“If we get separated, remember we are coming off at junction 32.”
“I’m not gonna remember that.”
“Just ring me if you get lost, OK?”
“Admit this is a nice surprise, Tom.”
“You could’ve warned me first so I could plan ahead. You’ve probably given my mum a heart attack.”
“You think she’ll freak?”
“At first.”
“I’m more nervous than her, believe me.”
“I doubt that. Come on let’s go,” I said as we got into our separate cars.
13
I nearly cried, when I saw Molly’s face. She was in a ballerina costume so of course I fell in love with her straight away, looked nothing like her dad, the opposite, all blonde and tanned. On introducing me to Molly, Tom told her that I had to be looked after, that I was a princess too, Molly of course took this literally, so before I’d even put my bag down I was handed an obligatory wand and crown, forced to be worn and used, not that it required much effort on my part, I was used to acting rich and spoilt.
Next came the grand tour, led by Molly, she showed me the garden first, spent a good thirty minutes cross-legged in a pink shed, eating plastic apples and sipping invisible tea. Next was inside, again every room, the laundry room, Grandma’s drinks cabinet, the cupboard under the sink, the medicine drawers. Tom’s mom looked embarrassed, I could imagine it was quite a drama for her, having a stranger inspect her property on such short notice. She kept apologizing for everything, the noisy radiator, the faulty flush on the toilet, the fact she hadn’t seen any of my films.
I kept looking over at Tom, he found the whole thing hilarious, at lunch I kicked him under the table, he deserved it, his little smirks. To be fair I was wearing a pink feather boa, it must have looked quite comical. I told Tom’s mom she shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, the table laid out like the Ritz. Reminded me of my own grandma’s cooking, lots of butter, lots of salt, lots of love. Wished I could’ve stopped yawning though, must’ve have looked so rude.
“Sleeping beauty needs some beauty sleep,” Tom told Molly who wasn’t happy I was going to bed whilst the sun was still out, informing her dad I would need to be kissed otherwise I’d never wake up. I hoped I wasn’t blushing, the mirror told me otherwise. Tom showed me up to his room, told me where he kept the fresh towels, the nearest toilet, fire exits.
“Apologies for the room,” he said, attempting to tidy around him. “It hasn’t changed much since I was sixteen. I’m tidier now, actually, I’m not at all.”
“Sure, you got enough books?”
“I ran out of shelves.”
“You do realize there are such things as DVDs? Most people have made that leap from VHS. And I thought I was the film buff. You love shit movies more than me.” She picked up a copy of Tremors.
“Do you want me to wake you up, or let you sleep through?” he said, putting a folded towel at the end of the bed.
“No, only let me have an hour or so. I didn’t come all this way to sleep.”
“When’s the last time you slept on a single bed?”
“Probably when I was at college. It’s fine, honest,” I said still looking around the room, it was wall-to-wall teenager. “That’s the coolest fucking poster I’ve ever seen.” standing in front of a Twin Peaks poster, a Japanese Twin Peaks poster. “Where did you get it? Japan?”
He laughed. “Some store on Victory Boulevard. Cost me like fifteen dollars. I’m guessing the owner wasn’t a cherry pie fan.”
“Fifteen dollars. I’ll give you fifteen thousand for it.”
“It’s not for sale.”
“Twenty then?”
“I’m not budging, I’m afraid. Thanks for being so good with Molly. I think you’re her new best friend. Don’t think she’s bothered by me anymore. I can’t compete with an American princess.”
“Ballerina too, remember. I’m the full package.”
“You’re also the first girl I’ve ever had sleep over.” He leant against the doorway.
“Serious? Were you a late developer, Tom?”
“I’d say quality over quantity but I’d be lying. I’ll leave you to it. Give me a shout if you need anything.”
“Night, Tom.”
“Night, Lilly. Thanks again for today.”
“My pleasure,” I said as he switched off the light.
I pulled the duvet over my head. I suddenly felt very aware I was half naked in Tom’s bed, felt a little rude, a bit naughty, my boob was touching bed sheet, his willy had touched bed sheet. It was childish intimacy, playground romance stuff. Made me giggle, the room had turned me acne and braces, fantasizing over sex that was never going to happen. I closed my eyes, despite the attempt to darken the room it was still bright with midday sunshine, even though I was tired I couldn’t sleep, stared at the ceiling, thought about everything that had gone on.
When I first brought up the idea of Tom coming home I genuinely had no intention of coming along. Hand on heart I never expected to be here of all places. It was only when I woke up in the early hours, with too much time to think, that I felt the need to step in, do something drastic, like drive halfway across a country to bring a stubborn father back to his family. And I knew he’d follow me, he said it himself he wanted to see the job through, that job involved being one step behind me.
It was a gamble though, could easily have backfired, anyone could’ve opened that door, his wife, his girlfriend, or in fact just his mom. I still felt like I was doing something wrong, stabbing a woman in the back. My guess was, and I hoped I guessed right, Tom was either divorced or separated. That was the most obvious, it was also the easiest to accept. But if there was a mothe
r then where was she, why wasn’t Molly with her. Alcoholic? Depressive? Violent? Addict? She could be dead, I thought, childbirth or cancer, adopted. This was ridiculous, my little conspiracy theories, I was sure Tom would tell me soon enough, instead of me guessing right or wrong. Not that it mattered, it shouldn’t have mattered, we were friends, temporary friends till I flew home and he came back here for good. But still I couldn’t sleep.
I could still hear muffled conversation underneath me. I knew downstairs Tom and his mom were probably talking about me, I didn’t mind, I’d be talking about me too. It’s not every day a big-time actress comes for lunch, or climbs into your bed, I thought, as I tried to drift off in a room full of warm sun.
* * *
“How are you so thin? You eat more than I do,” said Tom’s mom, stacking our dirty plates. “I thought you’d still be full from lunch. I suppose you’d like some pudding as well?”
I nodded, before finishing my mouthful. “Do you need help washing up in there?”
“Tom didn’t cook so he’s on plate duty. Leave us girls to talk. I’ve lots of questions, I’m afraid.”
Tom stood up. “Don’t cross-examine her too much, Mum, she’s had a long day.”
“It’s cool, Tom.” I said. “I expected questions. I have some too, myself.”
“I think this little one needs a bath, Tom,” Tom’s mom said, smelling Molly’s armpit.
Molly went to whisper in Tom’s ear. “I’m sorry, darling,” he smiled. “Lilly won’t want a bath tonight. Just me and you this time.”
“I’m nearly three, Lilly,” she said.
“Wow. You are grown up. Your daddy will have to tell me what month so I know when to send all the presents.”
“It’s September, you know. I know about months, look,” Molly said, pointing to a home-made calendar on top of a side table.
“I’d like to look through that later, if that’s OK.” Molly nodded as Tom led her through the kitchen with promises of spells and talking saucepans as I waved goodnight and Tom’s mom went through to the kitchen.
I stood up and started to walk around the room. It was small but everything had its place, like a little thrift store, full of things to touch and ask about. I noticed Molly’s calendar, ‘2010’ scrawled in crayon on the front. I flicked through each month, it was quite sweet, Valentine’s Day had a love heart, Easter had its eggs and so on.