Aaron Connor

by Nathan Davey

  She walked over to the Moped and covered the sidecar in the blanket. She the tucked it into the seating compartment, so that it covered the guitar case but wasn’t a complete mess. That’s the one thing that me and Lizzie don’t have in common. She’s neat, tidy and all about the details. Me on the other hand believe in a way of life that many of us blokes share, which is the “just bung it anywhere” philosophy.

  Once Lizzie was finished, Nick turned around and clapped his hands together enthusiastically.

  “I think it’s time to get some kip” he said loudly,

  “Yah I’m knackered mate!” said Lizzie with a smile,

  I don’t think Lizzie even wanted to bother about what the boys were doing looking up at the sky. She looked at me with a smile that was more on the side of her face, which told me that she had a good idea what we were doing. Girls aren’t daft. Girls know when we’re doing that sort of thing, even if they don’t tell us that they know. Lizzie’s nice though, so she wouldn’t make a big thing out of it. Anyway, she was used to people gawking at her and knew how to handle those sorts of situations. I then felt kind of guilty but I didn’t really know why.

  Stewie marched into the building first, still in his sour mood, with us following behind. Lizzie walked next to me and looked around, excited. Not scared, not nervous but excited. I couldn’t have picked a better travelling companion. I knew that I’d have to tell her eventually that I fancied her. But not now, I’d thought I’d wait until the time was right.

  We entered the building. Blimey it was well nice. The carpet was this brown coloured tartan and the main desk was made of fine wood which was polished to perfection. To the left was a long extension to the foyer which had tables with wicker chairs placed around them. It looked old fashioned but well kept. It smelt fresh and clean. Lizzie and I couldn’t help but smile as we entered the building, as this was going to be the nicest place we’ve ever stayed in.

  Behind the main desk was a pleasant looking women wearing a white shirt, blue waistcoat and had her brown hair pinned up into a bun. She was stunning. Her beautiful blue eyes just added to the elegance of the building. Her long, fake eyelashes fluttered in a charming way as we approached her. It’s always to have someone nice and pleasant like her to run a place you’re not accustomed with. I might not have been as relaxed if there was a nasty, uncaring pleb behind that counter.

  “Hello and welcome to the Bell Hotel” said the women with a smile of pearly white teeth, “do you have a reservation?”

  “Yes” said Ritchie, who was fiddling with a computer print out that he unfolded from his pocket, “we’re the band who’s playing at the Speakeasy bar tomorrow night. The reservation is under Smith?”

  “Let me see” said the women, who began to click clack with her nails on the keyboard of her computer, “ah yes, Mr Ritchie Smith is it?”

  “That’s me” Ritchie said, passing the print out with his details to the women behind the desk, “this is the proof of purchase sheet”

  “Yes that all seems to be in order” said the Woman who then got up and walked over to a wall covered in hooks holding room keys, “your in rooms 15, 16 and 17”

  “Thank you very much” said Ritchie, taking all three keys in one snatch, “pleasure doing business with you”

  Ritchie walked across the hall to figure out where the rooms were. The boys went back outside to collect their suitcases from the van. Lizzie and I were left alone in the foyer. Lizzie had a little look around so she could really admire the place. I joined her in looking around at the fine paintings and interesting furnishing.

  “This place is lovely” said Lizzie, “this ain’t some road side place, this is a proper hotel. Hope we get some freebies”

  “Some what?” I asked,

  “Freebies” Lizzie repeated, “Haven’t you been in a hotel before?”

  “No I haven’t” I admitted,

  “Basically with every room you get free stuff, they’re called Freebies. You’d get like little bottles of shampoo and shower gel, some squares of chocolate, bags of tea, soap and so on. So, like, when you go you get to take lots of stuff with you”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yah, my bathroom’s full of stuff from holidays and hotels. You hardly ever get things cheap these days, so I take any opportunity of a bargain when it comes along. It’s like that sidecar we got for that bike, we got that for free didn’t we? You just can’t turn down great offers like that, can yah?”

  “Guess not”

  “I know so!” said Lizzie, linking her arm with mine, “Stick with me Connor, I’ll make sure that you don’t regret me coming along”

  “I’d never regret you coming” I said, looking into her eyes and stroking her white blonde hair, “I don’t think I could have done this, without you”

  At that point the boys came back with their luggage. Across the various bags were music stickers from bands such as: The Beatles, AC/DC, Aerosmith, Sex Pistols, Pink Floyd and Stewie even had a sticker of the anarchy logo. The cases looked battered and worn out from months of touring. That’s the odd thing with the music industry, the scruffier it looks the cooler it is. The bashed and dented look of the cases perfectly matched the overall rock style that they were going for.

  “Come on you two!” called Nick to us two, “lets go find where that Ritchie’s gone off to”

  We obeyed and followed the band towards the direction that Ritchie had left previously. We passed more tables and wicker chairs before going through a set of wooden double doors. This led to a long corridor lined with doors on each side. These doors led to the many rooms of the hotel. Ritchie was towards the end of the corridor waiting for us.

  The corridor was lit in an orangey glow, had some more of that tartan carpeting and everything was polished and cleaned leaving a shining gleam. The walls were made of a light coloured wood that looked fantastic compared to the white plaster walls that I was used to. I may be sugar coating this a bit. I must be honest when I say that I’m easily pleased. This was luxury to me but might be a slum through the eyes of another.

  We walked down and met Ritchie at the end. Ritchie had unlocked and opened the doors of rooms 15, 16 and 17 as to mark where the rooms are, like a bookmark. Stan and Stewie walked straight into room 15 without saying a word. Zo went into room 16 followed by Ritchie. Me and Lizzie followed Nick and went into room 17. Blimey it was nice!

  The room was surprisingly big and had two comfy looking beds in white sheets. Some paintings were hung on the wall behind the beds. These paintings depicted calm scenes which included a forest path and the beach when the tide is out. There was an ensuite bathroom with a large Jacuzzi bath tub, shower and (as Lizzie predicted) free bottles of bathroom items. The room smelt of rosy apples. At the end of the two beds was a large flat screened television. Nick popped on the television as soon as we entered the room, using the controller that lay waiting on the first bed.

  Well, it’s become a sort of natural response init it? You walk in, on goes the telly and you carry on as usual. When mom did this, she would have the television blaring away in the background while she did other things around the house. She’d be cooking, hovering, cutting people’s hair, talking on the phone and many other ordinary things, all the while with that telly playing away. It’s just a comfort init? To have some blokes chatting away while your going by your business. We’ve become so dependant on the telly, can you imagine a world where telly didn’t exist? We’d all read and be just that little bit cleverer. Oh well, at the end of the day we do have it. If it is dumbing us down and making us more gullible to what we hear on it, it doesn’t matter as long as there is The X-Factor.

  Nick fell in a heap of exhaustion onto the soft bed. Lizzie fell onto the opposite bed and sat on it crossed legged. I joined her as we watched Nick flick through the channels. There wasn’t much on, just some really awful sitcoms and shopping programs. Nick found a channel that was showing a marathon of Whose Line Is It Anyway? USA. Nick gave a little smile before p
utting the remote to the side.

  For those who’ve not heard of Whose Line Is It Anyway? It’s basically a show where the actors have to improvise everything. They get suggestions from the audience for things to include in the scene. Blimey they can make some funny sketches, completely off the top of their heads! In my opinion it’s the American version of the show that’s funnier then the British version.

  The actors who star in the American version are all geniuses! Wayne Brady is literally the maddest and most talented man I’ve ever seen. He can do all kinds of voices, dances, sings and does a wicked Michael Jackson impersonation. Ryan Stiles is tall and is fantastic when doing pieces in which he has to play it straight, people are endless commenting on his taste in huge clown like shoes. Colin Mochrie is a piñata for a lot of jokes about his baldness, his height and Hawaiian shirts. Colin’s always made to play the women in the scene but is hilarious when working together with Ryan. All in all it’s a fantastic show, it’s such a shame that they’re no longer making new episodes.

  All three of us were laughing at the show heartedly. At one point I turned my head to look at Lizzie who suddenly looked quite sad. She got up and went to the bathroom. I followed her. Nick was watching the show happily and so didn’t even notice that we’d left.

  Lizzie was sat on the toilet seat’s lid and crying softly. Once I saw that she was crying I closed the door behind me. I could hear the program and the sound of Nick’s laughter muffled behind the wood. I knelt down in front of her on the fuzzy bath mat. I placed my hand under her chin and lifted her face up. Her eyes were bloodshot and red. Her lip was wobbling.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked,

  “It’s only just hit me what we’ve done” she said through sniffles, “we’ve runaway. We’re on our own now. I’m just…scared”

  “There’s nothing to be scared of” I said, holding her hand tightly, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise. You’re my reasonability now”

  “And your mine” said Lizzie with a weak smile

  We laughed and I looked down shyly. She sniffed, grabbed some toilet roll and dried her eyes. As I looked down I could feel her hands running through my hair affectionately. She took her hand and lifted my head up under my chin, like how I did to her. Before I realised what was happening, she leaned forward, closed her eyes and kissed me on the lips. I closed my eyes and kissed her back. I could feel my hand reach up and rest on her cheek where I stroked her face with my thumb.

  “Oi Stan!” screamed Nick, who we now found was standing in the bathroom doorway, screaming down a phone, “I told you they were a couple. I’ve caught them snogging in the bog mate! You owe me a bottle of Pepsi!”

  Nick hung up the phone and stood in the bathroom doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. He was looking in at us with a look of mischief on his face. That grin grew wider then any I’ve ever seen on a person’s face before this. We couldn’t help but smile back. Nick began to laugh. This made me and Lizzie laugh too.

  “No point hiding secrets from us” said Nick, “because we’ll bloody well find out about it! It’s getting late. I think you two kids need to get some kip, I know that I need some as well. Come on, lovebirds”

  We got up and walked back into the bedroom. Nick switched off the light and the television. Nick was singing Puppy Love to himself, as he went across his room to get something from his suitcase. He opened his case and found his pyjamas. The pair of pyjamas was a blue onesie or adult romper suit. These onesies have become so popular recently. Since seeing Nick’s onesies I’ve have in fact bought my own. I’m wearing it now as I’m writing these words. They really are the most comfortable thing in the world! Don’t knock them until you try it!

  I and Lizzie hadn’t done any packing so we had no pyjamas. That reminded me what I wanted to ask Nick. We got changed first until we were both in our underwear. I was wearing basic boxers whereas Lizzie was wearing a fancy black and pink bra and matching pair of panties. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “Who were you planning to meet?” I asked,

  “No one” she replied, “just doesn’t hurt to look nice, does it?”

  “Guess not” I asked with a smile, “Nick, can I ask you something?”

  “Fire away chap” he replied, zipping up the front of the onesie,

  “Can I and Lizzie do anything for you guys for money?” I asked, knowing how rude it must had sounded, “We’re kind of broke”

  “Mmmm” said Nick in thought, “don’t know mate, I’m sure we can think something though. I’m sure when we get to the gig, we’ll find you something to do”

  “Thanks man” I said, before snuggling up into bed with Lizzie and soon falling asleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The following morning, the light of the early morning sun shone through the wooden blinds of the hotel room. The streams of light shone across my face, it was this that woke me. I opened my eyes to be looking up at the white ceiling. Turning over in the bed, my eyes fell on Lizzie who was sleeping soundly. She looked so peaceful and serene.

  I never understood why people in them romantic films always go on about watching other people sleep. It’s always meant to be romantic, but actually it just sounded creepy and stalker like. While looking at Lizzie’s closed eye lids and slightly parted lips, I finally knew the beauty of it. The bed sheets rose and fell as she breathed slowly and deeply. The sound of her breathing was almost hypnotising.

  I knew that if she saw me doing this, she would have thought I was a freak. I didn’t care though. I hadn’t felt like this before in my life. My chest felt light and fluffy. My heart was beating away like bongos. Even though I had no way of proving it, I knew that I was in love. I know it’s soppy like. I don’t care though. Love does that to you. It makes you stop caring. Nothing matters, other then the one you adore. I knew then that whatever happens on this road trip, I would do all I can to protect Lizzie.

  I reached out my hand and moved a strand of white blond hair away from her eyes. I found my hand stroking her cheek with one finger. Her eyes opened. She fluttered her long eyelashes at me and smiled.

  Blimey, those eyes were incredible. Perfect. Dazzling. Mesmerising. I’d never seen eyes as beautiful as that before. I don’t think I’ll ever see a pair of eyes that will take my breath away like Lizzie’s do. Even now they make my heart flutter and my spirit soar. They were like diamonds shining in the moonlight.

  “Morning” she said sweetly, “I can see that your trying to be romantic”

  “Am I succeeding?” I asked with a laugh,

  “Not too bad” she replied, “but a little practise wouldn’t hurt”

  “Fair enough” I replied, “I’m still a beginner”

  Lizzie laughed and covered her mouth with her hand. She lowered her hand and looked into my eyes. She turned her head slightly as did I. We came closer together and kissed. I loved the feel of her full lips against mine. We pulled away. We rested on each other’s heads and looked downwards. I looked up at her to once again see those wonderful eyes looking back at me. I was a bloody lucky guy.

  “Could you not eat each other in front of me” asked Nick who had now stirred, “at least wait till breakfast”

  We laughed at that. It’s always a comfort to have someone with a good sense of humour. It’s rather pleasant to have someone to comment on the situation and lighten it. There’s no reason to be so serious about everything. We’re only on this planet for a sort amount of time, so there’s always good reason to add comedy to life’s experiences. That is, as long as it’s in good taste and used at the right place and at the right time. Unless you’re one of the professional edgy comedians like Bill Hicks, Frankie Boyle, Ricky Gervais, Jimmy Carr or Matt Stone and Trey Parker. It’s probably best to keep some jokes to yourself. There are some waters that are best left untread, that is if you don’t have the courage to face the consequences.

  Nick shuffled around in his bed and reached for the television remote. He picked up the remot
e and clicked on the telly. On came B.E.N talking about some murder, accident or some other depressing rubbish. Nick knew that this was a bit downbeat for first thing in the morning and flicked on. On the next channel was a children’s show. It was meant to be a kid’s show, but the three of us weren’t quite sure about that.

  On the screen was some blue thing with red hair and a face like an abstract painting. One of his eyes was lower down then the other one, his smile was on the side of his face and his head was the shape of a kidney bean. He was dancing around in a flowery field with some toy train running around his feet. A posh sounding man was singing a song to go with the dance. The problem was that he wasn’t actually singing it but saying it, as if it were a poem. It was the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen. This was supposed to be for KIDS!!

  All three of us were in the bed, watching the show and pulling strange faces. Our lips were curled, our frowns were pulled down over eyes, our mouths were slightly ajar and our eyes were wide open. There was complete silence for a few moments. The silence was finally broken when Nick bellowed out a comment, which described exactly how we all felt about this strange show.

  “What the bloody hell are we watching?” he said, “It’s disturbing. It’s wrong. It’s unpleasant. And yet I can’t stop watching it”

  “Change it!” said me and Lizzie in unison “Change it!”

  “I can’t stop watching him dance around that toy train!” he said, “It’s like, hypnotising! Sod this!”

  In one powerful snatch, Nick picked up the remote and switched over to a morning chat show. There was a collected sense of relief after that. We spoke no more about the weird show, I don’t think we even wanted to think about it at the time. I think it probably scared us a little bit.

  I’m not saying what that show was called, as I’d rather not be sued over something as silly as that, but British people reading this will know bloody what Kids Show this was. I’m moving on now. Just thinking about that programme is making me feel a bit wobbly.