Every Touch

by Parke, Nerika

  “It’s me. You decent?”

  Laila was so surprised to hear her sister’s voice when she picked up the phone that she forgot to answer. She looked down at herself, her clothes all dishevelled, blouse hanging open and bra resting around her waist, and almost burst into laughter.

  “Laila?”

  “Uh, Kelly, what are you doing here?”

  “Well, hello to you too.”

  “Sorry. It’s just, you usually call before you come round.”

  “What’s the problem? You have a man up there?”

  She could hear the joking tone of Kelly’s voice, but she nevertheless glanced over at the slight depression on the end sofa cushion where Denny was sitting.

  “I’ll let you in.”

  She pushed the button to open the front door.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Denny, quickly fastening her bra and buttoning her blouse.

  She saw the dip in the sofa cushion vanish and seconds later Denny’s arms were sliding around her waist from behind and he was kissing the side of her neck. She smiled and turned round, taking his head in her hands and kissing his lips slowly. She groaned as she pulled back.

  “My sister has the worst timing.” She felt him tap her wrist once and she laughed.

  Reluctantly moving away from him, she went to the bedroom to check herself in the mirror.

  “Oh no,” she said, looking at her dishevelled appearance, flushed face and messy hair. There was no mistaking what she’d just been doing.

  She grabbed a hairbrush and ran it through the tangles, then tried to pull her clothes straight. Her skin was the biggest problem. She ran back into the living room to the fridge, opened it and stuck her face into the cool interior. There was a knock at the door.

  “Just a minute,” she yelled, frantically wafting cold air at herself with her hands. She grabbed a can of drink and pressed it to one cheek and then the other, squeaking at the sudden cold against her hot skin.

  Hoping it was enough, she put the can back and closed the fridge. After taking a deep breath and running her palms down the front of her blouse, she unlocked the door.

  “Finally. I’m getting old out here...” Kelly stopped abruptly and looked at Laila.

  “What?” she said, feigning innocence and looking down at herself.

  Kelly walked in, saying, “Hmm,” and looked around. Having given the living room the once over, she walked into the bedroom and Laila heard the bathroom door open and then close again a second later. She wasn’t absolutely sure, but she thought she heard the wardrobe door too.

  Denny’s hand slipped into hers and he lifted it up, kissing her palm then letting go when Kelly re-entered the living room.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Laila said, trying not to smile at the feel of his hand stroking down her spine.

  “I just... you look...” Kelly trailed off. “Are you alone?”

  “No, you’re here.”

  “Funny. No, I mean were you alone before I arrived?”

  Kelly looked back at the bedroom door and Laila stifled a gasp as Denny’s hand reached her ass and squeezed. She was very glad they hadn’t yet made it to the bedroom. At least the bedclothes weren’t messed up.

  “Of course I was. Why would you think I wasn’t? Do you want a drink?”

  “Lemonade, thanks.”

  She moved away from Denny’s mischievous hands and went to the fridge.

  “You just look...” Kelly paused. “Never mind. So, how’s things?”

  Her voice was a little too bright for Laila’s liking. She was immediately suspicious. Kelly took the glass of lemonade she handed to her and went to sit on one end of the sofa.

  “Fine,” Laila said as she settled on the other end and sipped from her own glass.

  “How’s the library?”

  “Fine.”

  “Social life?”

  “Fine.” Kelly knew very well she didn’t have a social life.

  “Really?”

  “Kelly, what do you want?”

  She could always tell when her sister was on a mission. It was never a good thing.

  Kelly placed her glass onto a slate coaster on the coffee table. “I’m worried about you.”

  Laila slumped back against the cushions behind her. “You’re always worried about me.”

  “I’m your big sister. That’s my job. But this is more than worry. This is concern.”

  Laila sighed. “What are you concerned about?”

  “I know how difficult it’s been for you since Gary and I’m so proud of you for the way you’ve been able to keep going after what he did. It’s just, you’re stuck here, alone in this flat all the time you’re not at work. It’s not healthy. You need to get out and meet people. You were so outgoing before, but now... I had hoped you would go back to being the old you when you got your own place, but it’s been six months and now you’re not even coming out with me. I’m just really concerned.”

  Laila was cursing herself. She’d been so wrapped up with Denny, always wanting to be with him, that she had been making excuses the last couple of weeks to not go out with Kelly. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her sister, but lately Kelly had started taking her to places where there would be a lot of single men, wanting Laila to meet someone. Before, it had just been mildly irritating. She knew she meant well, but the idea of being hit on with Denny waiting for her at home had become repulsive. Now her reluctance was coming back to haunt her.

  “What is this, an intervention?” she said.

  “No. Okay, yes, a bit. Look, there’s this doctor at the hospital, don’t roll your eyes, just hear me out. He’s thirty, gorgeous, funny, intelligent, sweet. I told him about you and he’s really interested.”

  Laila was suddenly angry. “You told him about me? What did you say? That your poor, pathetic, spinster sister needed a date?”

  Kelly sat back and frowned. “Of course not.”

  “I don’t need you setting me up!”

  “I just want you to be happy, Lai.”

  “I am happy,” she snapped.

  “What, sitting indoors on your own all the time?”

  “I’m not on my own!” It came out before she could think and she regretted it as soon as she’d spoken.

  Kelly looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean, you’re not on your own?”

  Laila was panicking. Why had she said that?

  “I just meant I see people at the library.” It sounded unconvincing, even to her.

  “You are the worst liar ever. What’s going on?”

  Kelly was like a dog with a bone once she got her mind onto something. Laila knew she wasn’t going to let this go.

  “I met someone,” she said.

  Kelly’s face lit up. “Really? When? Where? Who is he?”

  It was like the Spanish inquisition, only more inquisitive. Laila knew she was going to have to tread carefully.

  “I met him a month ago. We’re seeing each other.”

  “Yes? And?”

  “And what?”

  Kelly rolled her eyes. “Do we have to do this the hard way? What’s his name?”

  Laila hesitated. Would that be safe to tell her? Should she lie? She immediately discounted that option, too much danger of making a mistake later on.

  “Denny.”

  “What’s he like?”

  She couldn’t prevent the smile from creeping onto her face. “He’s funny and intelligent and caring and gorgeous.” She felt Denny lay his hand on her shoulder and her smile grew. “He has light reddish brown hair and the most beautiful blue eyes and he’s tall and sexy and...” She stopped abruptly, looking back at Kelly, realising she was getting carried away.

  Kelly’s hand was over her mouth, her eyes teary. “Oh my goodness,” she said, her voice trembling, “you’re in love.”

  Laila looked down and nodded and before she knew it Kelly had launched herself across the sofa and was hugging her, making her laugh. It felt good to tell someone about Den
ny, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him? When can I meet him?”

  And just like it was difficult again.

  “You can’t meet him.”

  Kelly frowned. “Why not? Oh Laila, he isn’t married, is he?”

  “No!” Laila said, appalled. “Of course not. It’s just complicated.” It’s the mother of all complicated.

  “How is it complicated?”

  “All I can tell you is he is a wonderful man who loves me and makes me very happy. Please, Kel, just trust me and leave it at that.”

  Kelly regarded her for a few seconds. “Okay, I trust you. I don’t understand, but I trust you. You are safe, aren’t you?”

  Laila smiled. “I am. I feel safer than I ever have.”

  “Good.” Kelly nodded and smiled back at her. “One more question though.” She leaned forward, looking serious. “How’s the sex?”

  Laila burst into laughter and looked down in embarrassment, knowing she was blushing.

  “That good?” Kelly said, raising her eyebrows and grinning.

  Twenty-Nine

  Denny was having the best birthday he could remember since he turned fourteen and Ginny Grant let him feel over her bra during the school lunch break and his parents gave him a Nintendo NES.

  Laila had taken the day off work and, after waking late, they spent the morning doing things he wouldn’t have even imagined existed when he was fourteen. Oliver had stopped by to give him his smutty comedic rendition of Happy Birthday To You, a tradition that had begun the year after Denny died and this year included five verses complete with new lyrics which had him crying with laughter. Laila had bought him the DVD boxed set of The Walking Dead, a title that had become a joke between them, which he was looking forward to starting with her later. And they were now in the middle of a game of chess which she swore to him she wasn’t letting him win.

  In addition, he knew something else was going to happen, because Laila kept glancing surreptitiously at the clock on the wall in the kitchen and was noticeably distracted. Which may have explained why he was winning their game of chess.

  His curiosity was reaching unexplored heights. When the intercom buzzer sounded, he almost hit the roof.

  Laila rocketed off the sofa, sounding completely unconvincing when she said, “I wonder who that could be.” All she said into the intercom phone was, “Hello?” and “I’ll be right down.” Which didn’t help Denny at all.

  She walked back to where he was sitting on the sofa, held out her hand and pulled him up when he took it.

  “I need you to go into the bedroom,” she said, “and don’t come out until I come to get you. Please?”

  He tapped her wrist once.

  “Promise me you won’t look? And don’t look out the window either. I want this to be a surprise.”

  He took her hand and drew a cross over his heart with her hand in his. “I promise.”

  She smiled, kissed him and pushed him towards the bedroom door.

  “I’ll come and get you when I’m ready.”

  She looked so excited she was almost bouncing. Denny watched her for a moment, smiling at her enthusiasm, then went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

  He sat down on the bed, trying to think what the surprise could be. Her excitement was contagious, however, and before long he was up again, shoving his hands into his pockets and pacing around the room.

  After ten minutes or so he heard voices coming from the living room, Laila and what sounded like two different men, although he couldn’t hear what they were saying. They stayed for another ten minutes or so, during which time he was sure he heard furniture being moved across the floor, before the front door opened and closed. That was followed by some rustling and then finally silence.

  He waited by the door, leaning against the frame and feeling like a kid at Christmas. When it opened and Laila appeared, he almost fell through.

  “Denny?”

  He took her hand immediately, since he was almost on top of her.

  She smiled. “I wanted to give you something special for your birthday, something I knew you would love.”

  “You already did that this morning,” he commented with a smirk as she stepped away and led him back into the living room.

  For a second he couldn’t see anything different, until he turned and looked towards the window. He gasped, his jaw dropping in stunned disbelief.

  Against the wall, in the corner to the left of the window, stood an electric piano. Denny stared at it as if he expected it to vanish at any moment for a good ten seconds before he walked over to it, keeping hold of Laila’s hand. He reached out and ran his free hand over the closed lid before pushing it back to reveal the keys beneath. He touched them in awe, brushing his trembling fingers lightly across the keyboard.

  “I hope it’s alright,” she said next to him. “I did some research and asked in the music store which was the best for what I could afford and the consensus was that this one is...”

  Her words were cut off abruptly as Denny threw his arms around her and hugged her tight to him, closing his eyes and burying his face into her hair. He was so overwhelmed he couldn’t speak, even finding himself sniffing back tears.

  When he finally loosened his hold on her and pulled back to look at Laila’s face, she was smiling the biggest smile he’d ever seen.

  “You like it?”

  “I... you...” He laughed, picking her up and spinning her in a circle. “I love it, I love it, I love you!”

  “Play me something,” she said, letting him go and pulling the stool out. “I’ve never heard you play.”

  He sat and pressed the power button, thinking about what he could play for her as the lights flickered and stabilised on the front of the piano. And then it came to him. Placing his fingers onto the keys, he began to play You Light Up My Life.

  Laila’s hand was resting on his shoulder as he played. He half thought she might sing along, or at least hum, but she was silent. As he finished the final note, he turned to look up at her. Tears were streaming down her face.

  “Wow,” she whispered, “that was beautiful. You’re so good, I had no idea. I mean, I know you said you could play, but you never said you were that amazing.”

  She smiled and leaned down to kiss the side of his neck, then grabbed a tissue from a box on the coffee table and pushed the armchair around so it was facing him.

  “Play,” she said, sitting on the chair and drawing her feet up and grinning, apparently getting comfortable for the long haul. “I want to hear you play more.”

  Smiling and feeling like he must be the happiest person on earth, Denny turned back to the piano, placed his fingers onto the keyboard and launched into Für Elise.

  Thirty

  Laila sat low in the driver’s seat of her car and tried to look inconspicuous.

  People did this all the time on TV, but she wasn’t convinced someone sitting in a car surveilling a house was as easy to get away with as they made it look. At least she didn’t intend to stay long, she just wanted to see them.

  Surreptitiously watching the house across the street, she pretended to read a book, her phone lying on her lap in readiness. It was an ordinary semi-detached house on the outer edges of town with a well kept front garden. It looked loved. Laila imagined Denny walking up the lavender bush lined pathway to the front door, his nephew opening the door, excited to see him. Denny had talked a lot about Trish, Jay and John. She knew how much he still missed them. That was why she was here, hoping desperately no-one would notice her and report her to the police as a stalker. For Denny.

  A car pulled into the driveway and she fake-studied her book even more intently. Her free hand went to her phone and lifted it so the camera lens was just peeking above the bottom sill of the window. Swivelling just her eyes, she checked it was aiming in the right direction and zoomed in on the car.

  The passenger side door opened and a boy climbed out. Laila gasped. Jay had
the same light reddish brown colour hair as Denny. He was a little short for his age, which she knew was fourteen, but he still had plenty of time to catch up with his uncle. She suddenly realised she’d been so surprised at how much like Denny Jay looked that she hadn’t started filming. She quickly began to record as he closed the car door and walked around to the front door of the house, carrying a backpack and a football. The driver’s side door opened and a woman stepped out. She was unmistakably Denny’s sister, the same hair colour, cheekbones, and she imagined the same blue eyes, although she couldn’t tell from this distance. She kept the camera going.

  “Hey,” Trish called as Jay opened the front door to the house, “a little help here please.”

  His shoulders slumped in the way of teenagers the world over. “Yes, mum.”

  He dropped his pack inside the door and walked back to the car as Trish opened the boot, taking the two bulging shopping bags she handed to him and returning to the door. He disappeared inside and Trish shut the boot, locked the car and followed. The door to the house closed and Laila finally lowered her phone.

  She sat still for a few seconds, feeling an unexpectedly emotional reaction to seeing Denny’s family. She imagined going to the door, knocking and telling them about him. In her dream, they came to the flat and Laila saw them reunited after more than four years apart and shared their joy. She knew that nothing would make Denny happier than to see them again. She shook her head. The only thing knocking on the door and telling Trish her dead brother was a ghost would get her was thrown in jail. And then possibly a mental institution. She felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks and she wiped at them. She couldn’t reunite them, but she had at least had the courage to be able to give Denny a glimpse of the family he hadn’t seen for so long.

  Placing her book on the seat next to her, she put her phone back into her bag, started the engine and drove towards home.

  ***

  Denny walked through the door and looked around, going to check the bedroom and bathroom when he saw the living area was empty. It was Laila’s day off, but she obviously wasn’t home from her shopping trip yet. He shrugged and dropped onto the sofa, casting about for the TV remote control. Thirty seconds of channel surfing later all he’d found was a nature documentary. He settled down to watch. Ten minutes later, he was asleep.