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Kiss My Name

Page 17

by Calvin Wade


  As I put my shoes on in the Hall, Arthur Moyes came out of the lounge with a smoking pipe in his hand.

  “Getting off, are you?” he enquired.

  “Yes, Mr.Moyes. I think Jason and Nicky are probably best left alone”

  Arthur Moyes took a puff on his pipe.

  “Do you know what, Simon? I think that’s the most sensible thing I have ever heard you say. It probably is best that you leave them alone and I don’t just mean tonight.”

  Nicky phoned me the following morning before I had chance to phone her. As expected, she told me, for the sake of her baby, she was going to give Jason McLaren one last chance. After that, we spoke on the phone from time to time, but, I’m sure to Arthur Moyes great delight, I let Jason and Nicky try to patch their relationship up without my interference. Something told me if Nicky needed me, she would find me. Perhaps Nicky was right. Perhaps I’d always been a wise old man, certainly much wiser than I gave myself credit for.

  Part Six

  Destiny Calling

  JASON McLAREN – July 1993

  William Arthur McLaren (the middle name was a trade off for the baby having my surname) was born on 17th December 1992, weighing a healthy nine pounds nine ounces. The birth was the proudest and scariest ordeal I have ever had. I loved that little lad, he looked like a mini version of me and he had all the girls going weak kneed over him just like his Dad does!

  My Mum, Dad and Arthur Moyes had been keen for me to stay on at school for my “A” levels. Nicky sat her GCSEs but the distraction of the pregnancy probably didn’t help and although she passed six, enough to go on to College if she’d have wanted to, she decided to be a ‘stay at home Mum’. I passed ten, seven ‘As’, three ‘B’s so went to Runshaw College, Leyland, to do my ‘A’ levels. I was still thinking about going to Loughborough Uni but tended not to mention that to Nicky as she tended to go into a major sulk if the word ‘University’ was thrown into a conversation.

  I like Nicky, I like her a lot but if truth be known, if she had had an abortion or not become pregnant in the first place, I’d have finished with her long before my ‘A’ levels. Will was the reason we were bound together. I wanted to be a good Dad and everything, but I’m a good looking lad and girls do tend to throw themselves at good looking lads. I’m not saying it’s their fault, I’m just saying that if I’ve had a drink and girls start throwing themselves at me, then it becomes hard to say ‘No’. My motto was definitely, ‘what you don’t know, can’t hurt you.’ It doesn’t make me a bad person. I wanted to do right by Nicky and baby Will, but I had to do right by myself too.

  Once she found out she was pregnant, Nicky never wanted to have sex ever again. That was understandable under the circumstances but young men have needs, if you know what I mean. Nicky and I didn’t live together. I stopped at Mum and Dad’s, so the opportunity was there. Mum and Dad knew what was going on, they were aware I was stopping out a lot and once in a while, if I had to, I’d bring the girls back to ours. Mum gave me a ticking off for bringing girls back, but it was more a warning not to get caught out again than it was to be faithful to Nicky. They couldn’t care less whether I was faithful to Nicky. They thought she’d tried to trap me, so the messing around with other girls served her right, in their opinion. They were wrong, Nicky didn’t deserve to be messed around but I was a good looking seventeen year old lad with desire coursing through my veins. Put another seventeen year old lad in my shoes and I promise you, he would have done exactly the same. They were all one nighters though. I just wanted a bit of physical intimacy. Well, they were all one nighters until Miss Fulbright came along.

  It must have been July 1993. Will would have been about eight months old, just starting to crawl and I was coming to the end of my first year at Runshaw College. I think it was the weekend of the Wimbledon finals. Steffi Graf and Pete Sampras ended up winning, if I remember rightly. Anyway, on the Friday, I was in a Statistics lesson and the lecturer, Miss Fulbright was fit. She had blonde bobbed hair, blue eyes and reminded me more of a teacher you would find in pornographic films than a real one. She looked like ‘Plain Jane Superbrain’ from Neighbours after she took her glasses off and let her hair down. She seemed the type who would punish naughty boys. Perhaps it was just my dirty mind, but Miss Fulbright did nothing to curb those lustful thoughts. On that fateful day, she was wearing black boots with massive, three inch heels, a skirt that barely reached her thighs and a white blouse, partially unbuttoned, which gave you the slightest glimpse of a white patterned bra. Her breasts were big enough to feed a maternity ward but were attractively pert not tired and drooping like a well nuzzled pair. Thinking back, I probably went through her lessons with my tongue dangling out my mouth.

  Miss Fulbright was discussing linear regression and had written f (x) = mx + c on the white board, along with a scatter graph, but to be honest, all I was thinking about was that her Geordie accent was sexy and whether her breasts would look just as good in the flesh as they did in that bra.

  Once the lesson finished, I deliberately took my time leaving the room. It was a tried and trusted plan that had worked several times before and had provided some ideal opportunities to chat with Miss Fulbright. Statistics was my last lesson on a Friday anyway, so I was in no rush.

  “Busy weekend planned, Miss?”

  “Out with the girls tonight in Preston, probably same again tomorrow night or we may head into Blackburn for a change. Marking can wait until Sunday. What about you, Jason, what will you be doing?”

  “Something similar. A few pints with the boys tonight then cricket tomorrow for Eccleston and then another few pints once we’ve finished.”

  This was a half-truth. I was playing cricket for Eccleston but sandwiched either side of that were supposed to be two nights around at Nicky’s with her and baby Will.

  Miss Fulbright gave me a really intense look.

  “Why does a good looking young bloke like you not have a girlfriend?”

  “We split up.”

  This was a half truth too. Nicky and I did split up, but we were back together again before Will was born.

  “Oh, that’s a shame, I split up with my bloke too, about three months ago now. I thought I’d miss him, but as luck would have it, I’m having too much fun to notice!”

  “Me too, Miss. Who would want to settle down at our age?”

  “Exactly! Jason, call me Natalie, or even, Nat. When you’re in class, call me Miss Fulbright, but when it’s just you and I, Natalie is fine.”

  “OK.”

  “I’m only twenty two. Miss makes me sound ancient,” Natalie explained.

  “Ok, Miss. Sorry, Natalie. Think it’ll take a bit of getting used to that!”

  Natalie Fulbright gave me a bright, sexy smile as she finished putting her lecture notes back in her bag. One thousand dirty thoughts leapt spontaneously into my brain.

  “So you never know, I might see you in town, Jason.”

  “Not tonight, Natalie, I’m only going around Chorley, just having a quiet one before the cricket, but I might well see you tomorrow night.”

  “I hope so, Jason. You are one of a select bunch of students here that I would be happy to run into.”

  This was definitely a come on, without a shadow of a doubt. Miss Fulbright was just about to leave the room but I couldn’t leave things there. I had to strike fast.

  “Natalie, if you were guessing where you would be at say midnight tomorrow night, where would you guess you’d be?”

  “Well, although the girls are talking about Blackburn, to be honest, we all live in and around Preston, so it’s much easier and cheaper to go out there. I would say at midnight tomorrow, we’ll be in Tokyo Joe’s.”

  “Right.”

  I began planning the sickness Nicky would be told I had.

  “Why are you asking, Jason?”

  This was asked in a teasing, jokey and in my mind, seductive way.

  “I know it’s unlikely, as me and the lads could be off anywhere tomorrow
night, but I just thought that if I happened to be in the vicinity, we could catch up for a quick drink and a drunken dance.”

  “What do you mean, Jason, me and my friends and you and yours?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.”

  I smiled at Natalie Fulbright and she smiled right back at me. We both knew that was not what I meant, I was talking one-on-one.

  “OK, I tell you what, Jason, quickly scribble down your home phone number and I’ll find out from the girls tonight where we will be tomorrow night. I’ll ring you tomorrow and let you know.”

  Natalie Fulbright was after me as much as I was after her. I quickly wrote down my number and handed it to her.

  “It’ll have to be in the morning, Natalie, I’ll be out at cricket all afternoon.”

  “That’s fine. It’s not likely to be too early though. After a night out, I need to catch up on my beauty sleep.”

  “You don’t need to do that, Natalie, you’re already beautiful!”

  “You haven’t seen me first thing in the morning!”

  ‘Not yet’, I thought, ‘not yet’.

  “I’m sure you look great twenty four, seven.”

  “You charmer, you! I bet you have the girls eating out of the palm of your hand, don’t you, Jason?”

  “Only the ones I want to be eating out the palm of my hand. It is very much invitation only.”

  God, I thought I was good.

  “Do you know what I think, Jason?”

  “What, Miss?”

  Old habits die hard.

  “I think you need a strong woman to bring you down a peg or two, Jason. An older woman, maybe. Someone with a bit of experience. Anyway, I’m off, I’ll speak to you in the morning.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Natalie Fulbright walked out the room and I turned to watch her backside wiggling along in that tight skirt. There was no way I was having two nights in with Nicky and the baby after the way that had just played out. Friday was going to be family night and Saturday I was going to be off clubbing, with the delectable, Natalie Fulbright.

  I had my plan mapped out. I would drop a few hints to Nicky that I wasn’t feeling well, then ring her the following day and tell her that I had taken a turn for the worse, was running a temperature and had best keep away from her and the baby until Sunday. How could she argue with that? No-one wants their little one around germs, do they?

  SIMON – July 1993

  It was an evening in the week, I don’t remember which evening, actually I do, it was a Tuesday, as Dad had gone up to the Euxton Mills to play darts, which was what had given me the opportunity to speak to Mum, without him being around. I remember, as if it was yesterday, walking into the lounge, Mum was watching some crap on TV, I don’t know what, but a pound to a penny it was probably a game show like Blankety Blank or The Price is Right, as she used to love them.

  “Mum, can I have a word?”

  My Mum grabbed the remote control and tried to turn the volume down by pressing the mute button, but typically pressed the wrong button, so we then had a minute or two of her trying to get Teletext off the screen, before she finally created television silence.

  “Stupid control,” she muttered as if it was somehow the control’s fault that she had never managed to master its array of buttons. Dad was even worse, he still thought ‘contour’ was a mild cigar.

  “Ready?” I checked.

  “Yes, love, sit down. This sounds serious.”

  A lot of people go through phases of hating their parents as they grow up, but I never did. Perhaps it was because I was never the coolest teenager myself or because of Colin’s death or even because I had started working for Dad on the window cleaning round which had taken me away from an education process I didn’t enjoy. I’m not sure quite what it was, but I wasn’t rebellious at any stage really, didn’t think everything they said was stupid and didn’t worry about them showing me up. They were my parents, they weren’t perfect, but at that point they were my only immediate family and I loved them dearly.

  “I need some advice, Mum.”

  “What sort of advice, Simon?”

  “Relationship advice.”

  “Oh, ok. Are you in a relationship?”

  I think Mum knew the answer to this. If I wasn’t working with Dad, almost every other evening would be spent in the house. Mum did know that a year earlier, I had been spending most of my time at Nicky’s, for a few weeks, but since then, other than the occasional night out, I would be up in my room reading or listening to music.

  “No, Mum, you know I’m not, but I’d like to be.”

  “With Nicky?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Simon, you’ve lived with me and your father for twenty years, for the last ten, the only girl’s name I have ever heard you mention is Nicky Moyes. Did she not have a baby, though?”

  “She did, baby Will. He’s a right cute little thing.”

  “And what’s happened to Will’s Dad?”

  “It’s a long story, Mum.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere, Simon! It’s only nine o’clock. Your Dad is unlikely to be back from Euxton Mills until kicking out time. I’ve got as long as you want.”

  So, over the next fifteen minutes or so, I recounted to Mum the tale of Jason and Nicky’s relationship demise. Jason had cheated on Nicky whilst she was pregnant, but since Will’s birth, she had presumed that Jason had been a devoted boyfriend and father. The previous Saturday night, however, I had reluctantly agreed to have a rare night out with Joey Neill. I was pretty sure Joey just wanted someone to share a train journey in with and chat with over the first couple of pints before we hit the nightclub and he began sharking more dangerously than Jaws.

  I was never comfortable in nightclubs, I couldn’t dance and I didn’t have the confidence to approach a female stranger, even if I had wanted to, which I didn’t, so on arrival in Tokyo Joe’s, I sat myself in a corner, either going to the bar myself or being passed a beer from Joey on one of his many circles of the club, eyeing up talent. After one such lap, he returned with two bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale and what I initially thought was just a drunken grin.

  “You won’t believe who I’ve just seen?”

  “Who?”

  “My old ‘A’ Level Maths teacher, Miss Fulbright, she’s as fit as fuck, big tits too.”

  I wasn’t particularly interested. There was only one girl in my life, always had been. I had spoken to Nicky a few weeks earlier just to gauge how things were going. Each time I phoned or Nicky phoned me, I was hoping she was in the midst of a relationship crisis, but you don’t always get what you wish for. On that score, everything seemed fine.

  “Have you said ‘hello’?” I asked Joey.

  “No, no, I haven’t and do you know why I haven’t, Simon, my boy?”

  Joey pinched my two cheeks with two fingers as he said this.

  “Surprise me.”

  “Because she’s too busy snogging the face off Jason McLaren.”

  I nearly spat my Newcastle Brown Ale all over the place.

  “You’re having me on!”

  “No, I’m not! God’s honest truth, come and look for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  Sure enough, Joey was right. It took me a while to be one hundred per cent certain, as we were looking on from a discreet distance, but when Jason removed his lips and hands from Miss Fulbright’s scantily clad body, it was definitely him.

  “Bloody hell! Is she his teacher?”

  “Presumably. What a jammy bastard! Simon, you don’t know how hard I tried to get into that woman’s knickers. Bet she’s got a Brazilian too.”

  As we stood and stared from behind a post, like two camouflaged soldiers, I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was delighted that Jason McLaren was up to something that would jeopardise the relationship he had with the girl that I had always wanted to be with. On the other hand, I felt bad for Nicky, she had a nine month old baby with this lad
and he was prepared to risk all that for a drunken grope with a busty teacher.

  At about one o’clock, with Joey having long since disappeared with a group of students from Lancashire Polytechnic, in search of a house party, I drunkenly ran into Jason at the bar.

  “Do you know what?” I said to him in a slurry fashion, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Beautiful girlfriend, beautiful baby and you’re out here, doing what you’re doing.”

  “I’m allowed a night off, aren’t I? I saw Nicky and the baby yesterday and most nights this week.”

  I thought about it.

  “A night off? Yes. Another woman? No.”

  “What are you on about, Simon? What other woman?”

  “You know. The teacher with the big boobs.”

  “I think you’re pissed, Simon. I haven’t got another woman, let alone one with big boobs. I’m just out with a few friends.”

  “Whatever, Jason, whatever.”

  Having explained all this to my Mum, she was quick to jump to conclusions.

  “Simon, you didn’t go running to Nicky, did you? Telling her about this.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re taking a bit of a chance doing that, Simon. If they patch things up again, you’ll be the one who gets blamed for everything.”

  “Mum, I didn’t tell Nicky.”

  “So, you want advice on whether you should? Absolutely not, Simon. If this Jason is a womaniser, he will get his comeuppance. You don’t need to be seen as the bad guy in all this.”

  “Mum!” I laughed, “They have split up. It wasn’t me that told Nicky though, Joey Neill did. I just wanted to know whether you think an ugly mug like me has any chance with someone as stunning as Nicky Moyes?”

  “Of course you’ve got a chance, Simon! What you lack in looks, you make up for in here.” Mum tapped her heart, “You are a beautiful person, Simon, Nicky knows that....just don’t go steaming in, let her heart recover first.”

 

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