Nice Day For a White Wedding

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Nice Day For a White Wedding Page 20

by A. L. Michael


  He was not ‘all good’. Shopping with Tyler was like shopping for a child who wanted a costume. And his costume was ‘boy from the estate’.

  ‘This is what I’m talking about, Chels, just let me be who I am, yeah?’ He came out of the changing room, frustrated, wearing a pair of jeans and a fitted black T-shirt.

  ‘You let me buy you a pair of jeans that aren’t halfway down your arse, and you can have a new baseball cap.’

  Tyler rolled his eyes and shrugged. ‘Fine, these are all right.’

  Thankfully, the painful shopping trip came to an end fairly soon. They sat and ate McDonald’s, something Chelsea hadn’t done sober in years. Tyler changed into his new clothes whilst she ordered. When he’d eaten three cheeseburgers, reminding her he was a ‘growing boy’, they decided to stop by the studio and take some burgers with them.

  ‘Mollie’ll freak, obviously, she’s on this health food kick. Making healthy food for kids and stuff is her thing now.’

  ‘Well yeah,’ Tyler shrugged, making a face, ‘her mum was shit at it. She always had mouldy sandwiches for lunch at school.’

  ‘How’d you know that?’

  ‘I remember you talking about it. When you used to make us dinner, when Mum was out on a bender or with some guy, you’d say “could be worse, Ty. My friend Mollie has to eat mould! She doesn’t have an older sister to look out for her!”’

  ‘Wow, I was in marketing even then,’ she snorted. ‘I didn’t think you’d remember all that. You were pretty young when…’

  ‘When you left?’

  Her brother looked at her boldly, and she stared at the table. ‘Yeah, when I left.’

  ‘Well?’ Tyler frowned.

  ‘What, you want to have a heartbroken outpouring of emotion in a fucking McDonald’s?’

  ‘Pretty spot on, for us,’ Tyler grinned. ‘An apology would do, though.’

  Chelsea snorted. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’ll do, Pig, that’ll do,’ Tyler laughed. ‘So, you gonna show me this studio, or what?’

  Chelsea was nervous about everything. She was nervous about having Tyler in London, squashed into her tiny flat. She was nervous about seeing the girls, and wanting him to be impressed with the studio. She was nervous about looking at her phone, which she had turned off since she brought her brother back from the police station. In case there was a message from Kit. Or in case there wasn’t.

  She led him from Camden Town Station, walking through the sunny streets, watching as his eyes widened at the punks and goths, the mixture of tartan, piercings and leather, even in the heat.

  ‘What the fuck’s that about?’

  ‘Just them being them, babe.’ She stuck out her tongue and he laughed in shock, looking suddenly ten years younger.

  They wove their way down the busy roads, Tyler getting bumped and moved along as his eyes were drawn to the shops and stalls instead of the people around him. Eventually she realised he wasn’t really paying attention, and pulled him down a side street, so he could walk comfortably.

  ‘You all right?’ Chelsea asked, fanning herself in the heat.

  ‘Yeah,’ Tyler said quietly, ‘just…my first time in London, that’s all.’

  Something sat darkly in the base of Chelsea’s stomach, and it felt a little like guilt. ‘Well, we’ll go do a proper sightseeing tour tomorrow. All that tourist crap.’

  ‘Get caught nicking stuff and get a holiday in London, better tell the kids, they’ll all be doing it.’ Tyler laughed dryly and Chelsea said nothing. He coughed. ‘So, what do you do in this place then, this studio?’

  They trudged on slowly, side by side.

  ‘Not much. I turn up and Mollie feeds me,’ Chelsea smiled. ‘Nah, I promote the events for them, get them charity funding sometimes, or get adverts out for their events. And…a few months ago I taught my first dance lesson.’

  Tyler grinned. ‘Really? You was always well good at dancing, like all of it, street and ballet and stuff. That’s really cool. Teaching ballet to little posh kids.’

  ‘No, it’s not like that.’ She shook her head. ‘We made it so kids like us could use it. The kids from the estate and stuff. That’s why I get the charities to fund it, and advertise it, so the kids can have lessons for free.’

  Tyler looked at her like he wasn’t entirely sure who she was. ‘You mean you went off to some fancy uni and got some big fancy job so you can spend your spare time raising money and teaching poor kids to dance?’

  ‘Disadvantaged backgrounds,’ she said, rolling her eyes, ‘yeah.’

  ‘And they do shit like that in London?’

  ‘They do shit like that in Badgeley, moron. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for years. There’s stuff you can get to get ahead.’

  ‘So these kids, they’re dancing so they can go to some posh ballet school and become famous dancers? They’re that good?’

  ‘No.’ Chelsea shook her head, frowning. ‘They’re dancing because they’re kids who deserve to do stuff and have fun, even if their parents don’t have money.’

  Her brother raised an eyebrow, and jutted his bottom lip, like he was considering the idea. ‘That’s well good, Chels, nice one.’

  When they reached the studio, her brother became someone else. Like he suddenly returned to being that embarrassed little boy who used to pretend to do his homework whilst the girls were up in Chelsea’s room, getting ready to go out.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here, Chels?’ Chelsea didn’t even get her key out of the lock before Evie barrelled over. She looked ridiculous, wearing a black T-shirt smeared in paint, and dungarees with the front folded down.

  ‘What the hell are you wearing? You look like a 90s girl band reject.’ Chelsea stuck her tongue out and gave her a hug.

  ‘Don’t be a dick, someone told me dungarees are back in,’ Evie grinned, ‘and he was wearing a denim shirt and thick rimmed glasses, holding a MacBook, so I knew it must be true! Let me see the ring!’

  She grabbed Chelsea’s hand and stared down and then back up again, her face freezing. ‘You couldn’t last two more days with his shitty family? Two more days for a lifetime of happiness?’

  ‘Actually…some shit went down.’ Chelsea nodded behind her, and Tyler stepped out, scratching the back of his head.

  ‘Ty? Jeez, you’re a grown up!’ Evie grinned. ‘Look at you!’

  ‘Hi,’ he nodded, pressing his lips together, his cheeks colouring a little at the attention.

  ‘Still the silent type, huh?’ Evie nodded, then narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m guessing Ty didn’t suddenly decide to visit London for the first time and you just decided to come home early to see him?’

  Chelsea sighed, holding up the McDonald’s bag. ‘It’s a long story, want a cheeseburger?’

  ‘You know Mollie’s going to kill you if she so much as smells this.’

  ‘Then don’t tell her.’

  Evie rolled her eyes. ‘She’ll be back with Esme soon, they’ve been out having adventures.’

  ‘Well, she’ll be glad I’m back,’ Chelsea shrugged, ‘she thought I should come home, didn’t she?’

  ‘She didn’t want you getting hurt, that’s all.’

  They sat on the floor in the studio, whilst Tyler wandered around, looking at the walls, the art and the leaflets about what they did, the framed articles from the local paper about the opening night.

  The door at the back opened and the hip hop that had been quietly mumbling through the door was suddenly blasted at full volume, and Killian walked out, covered in dust, which, Chelsea had realised, was his main look.

  He grinned at her. ‘Chels! You’re back! How did he…I mean, let’s see that massive rock, I know what a bloody big spender that showy bastard is, making the rest of us look bad –’

  He looked down at her hand and then back at Evie, his eyes widening. ‘Did I just…I mean he did, didn’t he? Oh fuck.’

  Evie snorted. ‘Don’t worry, baby, he did actually propose. They were full-o
n engaged for a whole week.’

  Chelsea swallowed, looking at the floor. ‘Bit harsh, Eves.’

  Killian nodded, frowning at her, and Evie winced, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry, I’m only being so blasé because I have absolute faith this is all going to blow over.’

  ‘Well, that’s lovely and everything, but things have been said that can’t be unsaid, and people can’t be who they’re not,’ Chelsea huffed, standing up and shaking imaginary dust from her dress.

  ‘Ooh fortune cookie shit right there,’ Tyler called over, grinning.

  Killian looked up surprised, then mock whispered, ‘Guys, there seems to be a youth in here!’

  ‘Shut up, Killian, that’s my brother,’ Chelsea snorted. ‘Ty, this is Killian. Feel free to rip the shit out of him, he’s part of the family now.’

  ‘When did that happen?’ Killian asked.

  ‘I think it was the night you and Chelsea decided to re-enact that scene from Indiana Jones and she drank you under the table?’ Evie added sweetly, then turned to Tyler. ‘Your sister is kind of a bad ass.’

  ‘Always was,’ he shrugged, hesitated and seemed to propel himself forward, holding out a hand to Killian. ‘Nice to meet you. Tyler.’

  Chelsea nearly passed out on the spot. The most acknowledgement she’d ever seen from her brother was when he occasionally nodded at someone or grunted.

  ‘All right?’ Killian nodded back, shaking his hand, then turned back to his workshop. ‘Sorry, music blaring, I smelled burgers and got distracted.’

  ‘What you working on?’ Chelsea asked. ‘Anything for the studio?’

  ‘Nope,’ Killian smiled, running a hand through his dark hair, slightly embarrassed. ‘I got a commission from one of Ruby’s old contacts, actually. They came to one of the talks on the power of art, and we got talking about my work. It’s this bed frame, a gift for his wife. And not to play my own air guitar solo, but it’s freaking epic.’

  ‘You an artist then?’ Tyler regarded the man suspiciously, trying to figure out how he fit into all this.

  ‘Nah mate, I’m just a carpenter. I rent the room back there.’ He nodded his head. ‘Want to see?’

  Tyler shrugged like he didn’t really care, but Chelsea noticed that he was leading the way through the room, nodding his head to the music.

  When he disappeared through the door, Chelsea sighed.

  ‘So? Footnotes version.’

  ‘Ty got arrested helping our dad out with something. Mum kicked him out and I’m not entirely sure what to do with him.’

  ‘Okay, well…shit,’ Evie sighed. ‘And Kit?’

  ‘Me and Kit had words about his psychotic parents setting a private investigator on me, I was forced to go to his ex-fiancée’s wedding and then I got the call about Tyler.’

  ‘You didn’t tell him?’

  ‘His driver will.’

  ‘Driver?’ Evie raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Uhuh, that’s the level we’re talking. The driver, the maids, the team of chefs…and I had to leave to get my brother out of prison.’

  ‘So…what happens now? He can’t stay with you in your tiny studio.’

  Chelsea shrugged,. ‘I dunno, I’m assuming the police will get in touch with me about what happens next?’

  ‘And what happened to Kieran?’

  Chelsea’s eyes darkened. ‘Back inside, once again. Best place for him. Always a bit shit at life.’

  ‘And Ty?’

  Chelsea shrugged. ‘No clue. Long term I can’t keep him here with me, I’m just desperately hoping they know he’s a young, impressionable kid, who wanted to please his dad. The law side of it is…I just don’t…it’s the kind of thing I would have asked Kit about…’

  ‘You doing okay with that?’

  ‘Feel like my heart is gradually oozing all my love and life force out and it’s puddling in my shoes,’ Chelsea sighed, ‘hoping that’ll be over soon.’

  ‘Give it time,’ Evie shrugged, leaning over and pulling her friend in for a hug.

  ‘Time to heal or time to get back together?’

  ‘Whichever one you want to believe in.’

  Tyler had disappeared with Killian for the rest of the day, going with him in the truck when Killian went to collect materials. On one hand, Chelsea was relieved, but she always didn’t want to have too much time to think. So she tidied, and went through the marketing plan for the circus workshop and performance that was happening in a couple of days, even though everything had been done, and when she thought no one had noticed, she slipped away into the conservatory, watching the fading light, the pink fluffy clouds and golden halos as the day ended, and turned on some music. She loved this room, she loved the openness of it, the light. The windows were flung open and she could hear the strains of music through from Killian’s open door, now that Evie had gone upstairs to paint. The rhythm was hypnotic, a Latin sound with a steady bass. She could hear the voice rapping over the top of it, and felt herself nodding along, letting her fingertips stretch out, closing her eyes as she moved. Each beat was a movement, a heartbeat, a tap, a shoulder pop, a twirl. Moving felt natural, felt real, and it had been too long since she danced.

  Kit used to dance with her. Even though he hated it, said he felt like a Koala trying to two-step. He was better than he knew, but she didn’t like to tell him. She thought it was good for him to be nervous about something, it built character. But he had rhythm, even when he didn’t dance he had that way of carrying himself, being as tall as he was. Either you embraced height like that or you stooped, trying to hide it. Kit never hid anything about himself. She supposed he’d never needed to.

  She let thoughts of him float away, thoughts of anything float away as she felt her muscles stretch, her spine twist and untwist as she danced. Briefly, the thought appeared in her head as she opened her eyes: I feel alive.

  Chelsea heard a clapping in the corner, and opened her eyes to see her brother, smiling at her, leaning back against the door frame. ‘You were always good.’

  ‘I’m a little rusty,’ she shrugged.

  ‘It’s good what you’re doing here, Chels. It’s really good.’ Tyler offered her his cigarettes, and they walked through the conservatory doors and out into the lush wilderness of the garden.

  ‘You’ve been gone for ages, you all right with Killian?’ she asked, looking at him. Please don’t have nicked his wallet, or call him a prick.

  ‘Yeah, it’s been great. He’s been showing me how to carve and join stuff. You know how much he makes for that stuff?! It’s unreal!’

  ‘Well, he’s been doing it for a while, and he works hard,’ Chelsea shrugged.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I get it, and I don’t. I should have tried better at school and I shouldn’t have got stuck working at the chippy and drinking too much and wasting my life,’ Tyler growled. ‘Not all of us are smart, Chels, not all of us get to be you.’

  ‘I wasn’t saying that.’

  ‘You are! I wanted to get out, I mean, fuck, Chels. Look at what you have here. This place, and your mates, people who do stuff they love, and you’re helping other people. People like us. I would love to have this.’

  ‘So have it! Do something! Become a mechanic, become a carpenter, just become something!’

  ‘I am something! I’m me! The way you were someone too, before you fucked off down here and destroyed anything that didn’t fit!’ Tyler clenched his fist and loosened it again, like he was expelling the pain in his fingers. ‘Surprised you even hung out with Evie again, she was part of that old life too.’

  ‘I didn’t. Not ’til Ruby gave us this place. I’m…I’m trying to learn,’ Chelsea sighed, ‘and if I’ve learnt anything from all this with Kit, it’s that I was pretending. I was talking and acting like I was part of that world, but I wasn’t. I’m from our world. And it’s shitty and horrible a lot of the time, but it’s not fake like they are.’

  Tyler grinned at his sister, putting his arm round her briefly and giving her a squeeze, before placi
ng his baseball cap on her head. ‘Come on, chav, we’re having some beers in the studio.’

  ***

  Chelsea often tried to trace that last moment she’d seen Ruby, if it was when they were commiserating in the park that night, or it was something less important, less memorable. Just sitting in form period scratching into the table with a protractor. She tried to think of whether Ruby had given her a sign she was going, as if there was a moment that she’d said goodbye, said something important.

  ‘You checked your post today?’ Ruby said that afternoon at college, where she’d bunked off and spent the whole day in the music room.

  ‘No, why would I get anything?’

  ‘Apart from uni letters?’

  ‘It’s done and dusted,’ Chelsea said airily, a grin tearing at her mouth. Whenever she tried to hold it in, she felt like she was smirking, biting the inside of her bottom lip with her teeth. The school were thrilled, one of their poor bastards making it to Oxford? It made the local paper and Chelsea got some shit about being a hoity toity bitch who thought she was too good for everyone. Which was still her mother’s opinion.

  ‘Well, you’ll get some post tonight.’ Ruby held her fingertips to her temples. ‘I predict it will make you feel better.’

  ‘Better than feeling on top of the world? On the edge of escape?’ Chelsea laughed. ‘We’ll see.’

  The red-haired girl raised an eyebrow mysteriously, and that was it. That was the last moment she remembered her, still and knowing, that eyebrow arched, those eyes piercing her with an agelessness that always freaked Chelsea out. Of course, days later, when they were all asked by the counsellor and a painfully efficient lady from the foster services about when they’d last seen Ruby, they realised they should have seen it coming. She’d moved up their timeline.

  ‘She was happy here?’ The woman with the small eyes and surprisingly large teeth asked her, sitting on the rough, ancient chairs in the guidance counsellor’s office, feeling it scratch against the back of her bare legs.

  ‘She was.’

  ‘There was no damaging behaviour? No drinks, drug use, promiscuity?’ The woman paused, the air suddenly stagnant and Chelsea raised an eyebrow.

 

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