by Amos Cassidy
After three cups of tea to aid their recovery, Faye said her goodbyes and left, eager to try and bond with her new housemates at the house in Bethnal Green.
Flo, much recovered, busied herself in the kitchen preparing a meal while Erin played on the X-Box in the living room. Rose sat at the dining table, talking to Flo who was chopping an onion, tea towel thrown over her shoulder.
“She’s a lovely girl,” Flo said.
“She’s an amazing friend,” Rose said. “Faye is my rock in many respects.”
“Aw, that’s lovely to hear. I’m glad you’ve got someone like her in your life to look out for ya, to be there and all that. It’s lovely.”
Rose smiled.
Flo placed the onions into a frying pan and poked at them with a wooden spoon. “You all right, darling?” she asked. “It’s a lot to deal with, the stuff with ya mum. I think you and your dad are so strong…” she stopped. “Sorry, I know you probably don’t wanna talk about this.”
“It’s fine, really. I’m all right. I love my mum and dad but I need to take my life by the balls and live it, you know?”
“Well said, darling. You’re a young woman. You need to get out into this big wide world and enjoy it while you can. How was your dad when you called him last night?”
“He was okay, a bit quiet.”
“He’s a dad. Dads always struggle when their little girls become women.”
Rose laughed. “Really?”
“Absolutely. And I’ll be the same with Erin. He could be fifty and I’d still see him as me little boy.”
“I’m sure he’d love that.”
“Can’t wait for when he’s eighteen. I’ve got so many baby pictures to embarrass him with.”
“Now that will be a sight.” Rose could just imagine Erin standing arms crossed, as his mother brought out the photo albums. “So, how many are coming for dinner tonight?”
Flo dragged her attention away from the potatoes on boil. “Well there will be me, you, Erin, Roman and his four mates.”
“How is Roman? Is he back from his holiday?”
“Yeah, he got in this morning. He sent me a text. Not a bleedin’ phone call, a text.” She shook her head trying to look put out but didn’t quite manage it– there was more than a hint of affection in her voice to pull it off. “But there ya go. Anyway, I think he’s looking forward to going back to work on Monday. Him and them old cars, he does love getting them up and running though, and Harold keeps ‘im company. Them two come in covered in grease most nights. The grey bar of soap and the nail brush in the bathroom are his and there’s a spare set that Harold uses when he’s over for dinner.” Flo smiled to herself. “Bless ‘em. They do work hard.” She turned down the heat on the potatoes. “He’s got a lovely group of mates. You’ll really like them. It’ll be nice to sit around and chat at the dinner table.”
“Do they come over a lot?” Rose asked hesitantly, imagining a house full of leery blokes. Not that she had any right to complain, she’d just learn to make herself scarce if they bothered her.
Flo chuckled. “All the time and with bellies like bottomless pits. They do like their food. They’re an active bunch though so they never put anything on. Lucky gits! My Shepherd’s Pie is their favourite, or so they tell me.” She glanced up at Rose, noting her slightly wary expression. “You’ll really like them.” She reassured.
“I’m sure I will.” Well she was damn well going to try. This was going to be her home now too, so she might as well get used to the routine. “Smells great.” She changed the subject, sniffing the air appreciatively.
“Thanks, luv.”
Erin’s shouts cut through the serenity. “NO! NO! NO!” There was a crash.
“Erin!” Flo stood hands on hips.
Erin came skulking into the kitchen. His face was red with anger “This stupid bloody game!”
“Don’t you dare swear in my house!” Flo yelled. “And don’t slam that controller on me coffee table!’
“You say bloody all the time,” said Erin matter-of-factly. “And anyway, bloody ain’t swearing.”
“I will do as I please. This is my house and it’s my rules. And bloody is bloody swearing. And its ‘isn’t’ not ‘ain’t’ remember?”
“You’ve just said it twice!” Erin cried in exasperation.
“I’ll have none of your lip. I’ll take the bleedin’ game away from ya if ya gonna be like that.”
Erin huffed and stormed out of the kitchen.
“Bloody kids. Sorry, luv,” Flo said.
Rose bit back her laughter. “It’s okay, really.”
“I’ll apologise now for the rows to come.”
“They’re just a part of life. That’s what family is I guess.”
“I have to agree with you there.” Flo finished draining the potatoes.
They were interrupted by the sound of male voices and laughter drifting in from the hall, outside the front door. And then a key was placed into the lock.
Erin let out a squeal. “Roman’s home!” His sour mood was replaced by a smile as he ran into the kitchen then back out into the hall.
Flo stopped what she was doing. “Come meet them.” She took Rose’s hand and they joined Erin in the hallway. “In the living room,” Flo said. “It’ll get crowded out here.”
The front door opened and the voices became clear, the baritones louder. A man with golden blonde hair came into the living room first. His face was chiselled with a slight tan– the ultimate surfer or sexy beach-bum look.
“Roman!” Erin yelled and leapt off of the sofa.
“Erin, my boy!” Roman scooped up Erin up and swung him around. “You missed me, little bro?”
“Nah,” Erin shrugged, playing it cool.
“What do you mean nah? I’ll give you nah!” Roman threw Erin on the sofa and proceeded to wrestle with him.
“Kids, eh?” said a huge muscled man, approaching Flo with open arms.
“Hello, Harold, luv.” Flo gave him a kiss on the cheek. “This is my god daughter Rose.”
Harold extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m Harold.”
Rose shook his hand, looking up into his eyes. “You too.” She felt a shudder pass through her at the feel of his skin against hers, a prickling on the back of her neck. She dropped his hand abruptly and took a step back. The sensation was gone. Harold moved further into the house and Rose began to wonder if she had imagined the strange feeling.
A guy with long blonde hair that swept across his face came in, followed by an impeccably dressed man with chestnut hair. Flo hugged and kissed them both then turned to introduce them to Rose. “Kris and Damon, this is Rose.”
“Hi.” Kris, the blonde shook her hand.
“A pleasure.” Damon went one-step further and kissed it.
“Ark at him and his niceties.” Flo laughed, and then turned to address a tall and very handsome man with blue-black hair who had come in last. “Hello, Raven.” She graced him with her warmest smile yet.
He was smiling with equal warmth and embraced Flo, her stout frame almost lost in his arms. The hug ended and Flo turned to introduce him to Rose. “This is Rose.”
Was that a hint of pride in her tone?
“Nice to meet you, Rose.” Raven’s tone was pleasant and polite. Looking up into his silver eyes she found herself taking an instant liking to the man.
“How was your Saturday?” He sounded genuinely interested.
“It was very nice thanks. London is pretty amazing.”
“It’s a wonderful city.” He agreed. “You’ll really enjoy it here. We’ll have to take you to some places we haunt.” He gave her a friendly wink.
“That’d be cool.”
“I’m so rude.” Roman insinuated himself between the two. “Let me introduce myself.”
The big guy, Harold, snorted.
“Hello.” Roman’s eyes travelled from her head to her toes then back up again. “I’m your new house mate.”
“Yeah, I gathe
red.” She stood her ground even though he was in her personal space. She was not one to back down and after a moment he gave her a lopsided smile and stepped back. This might just turn out to be interesting.
“Roman,” Flo said, “you can set the table. Excuse me, I’m gonna get back to me masterpiece. Put some music on or something. Mind me ashtrays.” Flo jabbed a finger to a cabinet filled with an array of ashtrays in all shapes, sizes, colours and designs.
“Her collection,” Kris said.
“I never noticed.” Rose moved over to the cabinet to get a closer look.
Kris joined her. “There’s one from various seaside locations. Collecting from each seaside town in the country is her latest mission.”
“That’s quite a mission.”
“She’s halfway there.”
When dinner was ready, they all moved into the dining room. Roman sat opposite Rose, as did Harold. Damon sat next to her on her left and Kris on her right. There was an empty seat next to Kris. Raven sat at the head of the table at one end, and Flo at the other end. A delicious looking Shepherd’s Pie sat on their plates. Roman and his friends’ portions were huge in comparison to hers, Flo’s and Erin’s. She could see what Flo had meant about bottomless pits!
Erin took his plate on a tray and headed to the living room, excited to be allowed to watch TV and eat at the same time. Flo assured Rose it was a rare treat. “Conversation can get a little adult with the boys around,” she explained, “best not to have little ears flapping.” With the little man safely ensconced in front of the TV, Flo clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “Dig in everyone.”
There were a few seconds of silence as everyone took their first mouthful.
Rose finished her first bite. “That is pure heaven.”
“Thanks, darling,” Flo said.
“Really good, mum.” Roman added through a mouthful of potatoes.
“Oi, Roman, maybe you should take some cookery lessons from your mum,” Harold said.
“And maybe you should take a loofah to that fake tan, you’re beginning to look like you’ve been tango’d,” Roman retorted.
There was a snort from her left, which was quickly masked as a cough.
Harold bristled, his shoulders visibly tensing under the material of his T-shirt.
“Enough. Now eat,” Raven said.
Harold relaxed slowly then nodded, stuffing another fork-full of food into his mouth.
Roman shot Harold a wicked grin, then resumed eating his meal.
“Thank you, luv.” Flo gave Raven a grateful look
Well that was interesting. There was an air of command about Raven– she had noticed it as soon as he had entered the room. And now, when he had told them to stop fooling around and eat, they had obliged without question. Raven seemed to be the leader of this particular posse. She glanced around the table, surreptitiously studying the five males from beneath her lashes. The chestnut guy, Damon, pretty snappy dresser, was probably gay and really rich. And blondie, the other side of her, looked like he should be in an amateur boy band. Roman was the cliché surfer dude, well, if they were in a place where surfing was commonplace, and from what she had seen and heard he was the shit stirrer of the group.
Which left Raven and Harold.
It was obvious from the way Harold had backed down at Raven’s command that Raven was in charge, but Harold didn’t seem too happy about that. There was something about the way his eyes had blazed just for a moment before he had regained his composure, like a well-trained veil had descended, masking true emotions.
His eyes locked on hers, noting her perusal, his nostrils flared. She quickly averted her gaze back to her plate, feeling slightly uneasy. Was it her imagination or had that look been slightly hostile?
“Rose?” Raven said. “Are you looking forward to starting your new job at the gym? Flo told us all about it.”
Grateful for the diversion she focused her attention on Raven. “I’m really excited about it. The whole thing just seems so cool, working in Soho, being a part of it all.” Even though she was doing her best not to look in Harold’s direction, she could feel his eyes on her like two hot pebbles.
“It’s the gym of the moment.” Roman quoted the gym’s slogan, making bunny rabbit ears in the air with his fingers.
“Have you been?” Rose asked. She risked a quick glance in Harold’s direction to find his gaze now on Roman.
“Nah, just what I’ve heard.” He shrugged. “I’m not the endorphin junkie round here,” he said wryly, glancing in Harold’s direction. They locked eyes for a moment then, inhaling slowly, Harold sat back, running his tongue over his gums.
“I popped my head in to have a look,” Harold said. “Seems like a nice place. You working in reception?”
“Rose is teaching the self-defence class,” Flo said. She smiled proudly.
Raven glanced up at her appraisingly and Roman looked impressed. Harold frowned, looking her up and down.
“Seriously?” he asked.
Rose shrugged. “Hey, I may be small but it’s not all about size you know.”
“Yeah, Harold, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Size doesn’t matter.” Roman smirked slyly.
Harold pointedly ignored him.
Flo finished her mouthful and wiped her lips with a napkin. “Our Raven here is a genius. Twenty-one and coming to the end of his PHD in Psychology. And he’s a part-time lecturer too.” She looked like a proud mother hen.
“Wow.” It was Rose’s turn to look impressed. “Which university?”
Raven took a sip of his water. “At the University of Science London– it’s a relatively new university so still malleable, the lecturers and staff get a lot of say on policy and the likes. I’m quite enjoying it.”
“Dunno how you do it, mate, all those books, the stuffy lecture theatres and having to keep on top of all those new theories and stuff.” Roman shook his head, holding up his hands.
Raven chuckled.
“So you prefer picking up a wrench and tinkering, huh? You any good?” Rose asked.
Roman winked “Believe me, honey, I can make anything purr when I get out my tools.” His eyes were hot brands on her face.
Rose felt a warm flush creeping up her neck.
“Roman!” Flo was blushing with embarrassment.
There was a lull in the conversation during which the only sound was the one of forks and knives scraping against ceramic.
“So, Damon, are you looking forward to the auction next week?” Kris asked politely, more in the spirit of getting the conversation going than any genuine curiosity. Damon, no fool to the ploy, none the less responded authentically. “Actually I am. There are a few pieces I’ve had my eye on for some time.” He set down his cutlery. “A wonderful piece by Tracey Emin has really caught my eye.”
Harold snorted. “Who? Bloody Art! It’s a load of bollocks!” He scowled.
“Yes, well an ignoramus such as yourself would be of that opinion.” Damon replied primly.
“Really? And what about the bloke who put a piece of his own shit in a can and called it art and the bloody art community agreed with him?” Harold looked disgusted. “If that’s what art is coming to, I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Um, actually, Damon, I’d be interested to know the answer to that myself.” Roman folded his arms across his chest.
Damon looked momentarily thrown but recovered quickly putting on a haughty expression. “It is only crap to those who do not have the capacity to tap into their creative conscious, to see things beyond the black and white.”
Roman looked sceptical. “Right, if you say so.”
“I can’t stand all that artsy fartsy stuff, I can think of a hundred better ways to spend my time and money.” Harold still looked unimpressed.
“Like pumping iron and spraying on fake tan? That’s very deep,” Damon said.
“Yeah, well the gym isn’t a waste of time. It actually has a point to it.”
/> Damon just shook his head.
“You have to admit it.” Roman rocked back on his chair a little. “Ninety percent of art is just shit.”
“You are both so closed-minded.” Damon looked at them pityingly.
“We’re entitled to an opinion,” Roman said.
Harold nodded in agreement.
“And that’s the end of it is it?” Rose asked. “You think its crap so that’s what it is?”
Roman shrugged his shoulders.
“Too right,” Harold said.
Rose turned to Damon. “Definitely close-minded.”
“Ever heard of a band called Funk This?” Kris asked.
“Sorry?” Rose frowned, thrown by the turn in topic.
Roman sighed rolling his eyes. “How many times do we have to tell you that no one ever has?”
Rose pointedly ignored Roman. “No, I just didn’t quite catch what you said.”
“Have you ever heard of a band called Funk This?” Kris repeated patiently.
Rose nodded. “Yeah, actually I have.” Her eyes were on Roman. “I saw them play in a club up in Derby once. They’re very cool. Should be bigger than they are. They deserve more recognition.”
“They’re just ripping off Prince,” Harold said.
“Prince is their inspiration. They have their own sound.” Kris argued.
“Yeah right, how long before they become The Band Formerly Known As Funk This?” Harold sniggered at his own joke.
Roman laughed, choking on his coke. Harold generously patted him on the back.
Rose gave Harold a glance over of her own. “How many times am I gonna have to see you wearing a T-shirt which is clearly too small for you?”
Roman laughed harder spluttering, Harold didn’t bother to help clear his airways again.
Kris pointedly ignored Roman and Harold, training his soft blue gaze on her. “Funk This are playing at a place called The Whisper next week. You should come. It’s kinda our hang out.”
“I’d love to,” Rose said, touched by the offer, the first hand of friendship.
“Really?” Kris sat up straighter, unable to hide his excitement.
“Easy, tiger,” Roman said.
Kris blushed bright red. “Shut up!”