Lines We Forget

by J. E. Warren

  “It’s gotten so hot.” He laughs, finding her hand under the wooden table. His palm sticks to hers.

  She lifts up a finger to jokily warn him. “Don’t you dare say it. Don’t! I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve heard it said this week. Drives me nuts.”

  Calling her bluff, he leans back and places one hand behind the mess of his gloriously light hair and grins. “You mean, it feels like that ‘heat wave’ we’re supposed to get?”

  “Charlie.”

  “Anna, I must say it feels like there might be the strong chance of a heat wave this weekend.” He chuckles, trying to get a playful rise. She softly kicks him in the shin.

  “Yeah yeah, it’s warm, I get it, but it’s not blisteringly hot. I swear people act like they’ve never seen a bit of sun before.” She laughs back, careful to wipe away the tiny beads of sweat from her forehead so that he won’t see she’s just another sweaty hypocrite.

  “So what have you got in store for us then, tonight I mean?” he asks, finishing up his sandwich. Anna realises she hasn’t even touched hers, too busy joking to even take a bite. Caught in a battle between admiring his blue eyes and cheeky smile and thinking about money and his lack thereof.

  “Once we’re done here you’ll find out. I need to pop into a supermarket before we head back to mine, though.”

  “Sounds intriguing.”

  If only he knew, she thinks, remembering just what lies in store for them both, tucked away in her sock drawer. Daisy has come to her rescue once again, after she lamented the fact that her and Charlie couldn’t afford to partake in all the bank holiday festivities lined up. Like joining friends at the pub to drink away the sunny weekend or the road trip to the countryside to stay in a cottage.

  To his credit, Charlie has insisted on sticking to soft drinks to save pennies, but she knows that is about as likely as winning the lottery so she has taken matters into her own hands.

  Anna asked Daisy if there were other ways to occupy the time, with a slight nod and wink. A day later, true to form, Daisy had dropped something into her bag outside work and told her to walk home instead of getting the Tube. Just to be on the safe side.

  Back in the safety of her bedroom, she had hidden the Tupperware box under a pile of socks and made a shopping list. Just the thought of it had her giggling and she hopes Charlie will feel the same. Envisioning a weekend spent laughing, eating junk food, lounging out in the sun.

  “It’s all kinds of intriguing, mister, but you won’t find out till later,” Anna says. “Got to keep things interesting, haven’t we?”

  He leans forward and his kiss lingers on the warm side of her neck. It leaves her hot and just a bit bothered.

  “It’s—before you say otherwise, Charlie—not because of the heat wave, but heat does do something to me, you know?” She giggles, pulling at his hand, fanning out the light fabric of her dress. “Makes me come over all flush.”

  “It’s the biceps, isn’t it?” he jokes. “All this flesh out on display, you just can’t resist. I know. I know.”

  “Modest much?” She laughs, tearing at her sandwich crust to throw a piece to the birds swarming the table, trying to steal bread.

  The edges of her picked-apart cheese and pickle sandwich soon start to melt and sweat in the heat, and she moves her seat closer to Charlie’s so she can watch the brave swimmers in the wild pond.

  “I love this place,” she sighs, eyes cast out to the sandy ridges of the Heath and the vast open space of wonderfully preserved paradise.

  As Charlie’s bare arm brushes close and their mutual warmth spreads like wildfire, she realises that she’s been really damn unkind. Worrying too much about trivial money matters to see that the best things in life are almost always free. Like the view before them or the rays of light coating the city down below.

  Like Charlie and his wonderful smile. How it isn’t all so bad.

  Anna’s more optimistic trail of thought lingers as they leave the Heath and head back into town, passing through high streets filled with Morris dancers. Their bell pads on shins calling out, the handkerchiefs and brightly coloured ribbons signalling for them to stop and watch.

  With Charlie by her side, she looks up and feels a swell rise up in her chest. Lost in the moment of ease. Carefree without anywhere urgent to be. She adores the way he taps his foot on the pavement in sync with the music and how he swings her hand back and forth.

  It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, or that she’s never said it or felt it before, but in this moment Anna knows that she definitely loves him. Feels it in her bones and can’t always explain the many different ways in which she does.

  She figures there are far too many.

  “What are you giggling about now, you loon?” Charlie sighs as she pulls his hand. When they reach a small supermarket she instructs for him to wait outside.

  She races through the aisles with determination, picking up snacks and supplies. When she returns he’s got his back to the window, black shades on.

  “That was quick, suspiciously so, Anna.”

  “I know. Got exactly what we need, though.” She holds up the large plastic bag as proof.

  “Is all that for the so-called ‘surprise’?”

  “Maybe…” She can’t help but giggle again, thinks she’s not even gotten to the surprise part and yet she feels high on life already. Giddy with excitement.

  Raising her eyebrows with a sly wink, she links his arm and smiles. “You’ll see, Charlie. Don’t you worry.”

  ***

  Charlie

  Watching the smoke softly dance up from the small space between Anna’s lips causes Charlie’s stomach to flip.

  There’s something quite startling but also strangely seductive in witnessing her light up the white tapered joint and take a long drag. Like she’s done it a hundred times before, even though he knows smoking isn’t one of her usual vices.

  “It tastes different to how I remember it being back in college,” she says with a small cough. “Actually, about a year ago I went to a party with Daisy and we smoked what we thought was just a cigarette. We both couldn’t stop laughing all the way home after, and then we realised we’d been tricked.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Although this is making my throat itch more than I thought it would.”

  Charlie smiles, still watching as she tries to blow out rings of smoke. He marvels at how the sun glows behind her. Fiery orange in its setting as they sit outside in the small garden, indulging in Anna’s surprise.

  Earlier when she’d led him out the patio doors to reveal a small Tupperware container set on the garden table, with two perfectly rolled, herb-infused joints in it, he thought she might be pulling his leg. It turns out she wasn’t.

  “Are you sure Jaz isn’t coming back tonight?” he asks when she passes the joint to him. It smells familiar, conjures up a déjà vu back to when his old University flatmate spent his entire student loan on a backpack full of weed. Fond memories of hotboxing their shared bathroom floods back, as does the image of Paul crying all night after because he couldn’t feel his pulse until he sobered up.

  It has been forever a benchmark to which Charlie measures excess—a cautionary tale that has stopped him from doing the same again.

  “Chill out.” Anna giggles. The pupils of her brown eyes are larger, along with her grin. “She’s away at her fiancé’s parents’ house for the weekend. Not back till Tuesday, baby.”

  He wonders how on earth she got hold of good seriously potent weed as he takes in a substantial hit. “Just to clarify, this is the ‘surprise,’ right?”

  “I know it’s crazy, but I thought that if you, sorry, I mean both of us can’t afford to properly go out this weekend, then we should still be able to have fun. Do something else,” she says, her eyes watching the embers as they fall and turn to ash on the table.

  “No, it’s fine. I just didn’t take you for much of stoner, that’s all.”

  “I
’m not.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Charlie’s throat begins to feel tight and a cloudy film forms over his eyes. The sensation hits him and a part of him has missed it without even really knowing it.

  “Hah hah. Look, I thought it might be a good laugh, that’s all. Not like we’re going to start doing this every day, is it? You need to chill out, dude,” Anna drawls, mocking him whilst turning up the music on the small stereo she’s made him bring outside, to enhance the vibes supposedly.

  “I’m not even going to ask where you got this from.” He grins, holding up the half-smoked joint. The paper feels soft against his fingertips, and as he holds in a throatful of the white smoke she tries to pinch it from his grip.

  “Daisy. Who else?” she replies, matter of fact. “She’s the best.”

  Lips turning into a hazy smile, he admires her bare shoulders and the way her oversized t-shirt hangs off. Her hair’s up in a messy ponytail and she looks relaxed, happy, and free. It suits her.

  “Of course, who else?”

  “I don’t actually know where she got it from, but who cares?”

  “It’s good,” he says, passing it back. He feels like it’s the right moment to retrieve his guitar from inside. When he returns to the garden it’s much colder. Anna’s wrapped in a yellow blanket, legs crossed on her chair. Looking more beautiful than ever.

  Fiddling with the tuning and strings, he asks if he can turn down the music for a bit.

  “Sure, so long as you play something decent.”

  “When do I not?” he jokes.

  Anna in her makeshift warmth stubs out the end of the joint into a plant pot and kicks her bare feet up onto the table. The painted colour of her nails matches the vibrant peonies that hang from the whitewashed brick walls.

  “How’s this, then…” he says, playing the intro to a song that feels perfectly in keeping with their spontaneous relaxing evening. He thinks it’s quite a fitting tribute to a girl so grand and her brilliant plan to get them both deliriously high.

  As Charlie continues to strum, allowing his voice to warm up to sing the soft opening line to “Is This Love”, she pulls his seat closer. Drags him halfway across the concrete paving slabs with a strength that surprises him. She’s got a wild look in her eyes, which makes him feel hot beneath his shirt and jeans.

  He almost forgets the opening line.

  “Nice.” She claps along enthusiastically. “Feels like we could be on a beach right now, somewhere vaguely tropical.”

  “Suits the mood, I think,” he says between verses, hoping that Anna might follow along and sing too. Something he’d never heard her do before.

  “Can’t say I’ve ever really cared for this type of music, but I like the way you play it.”

  Charlie nearly drops the guitar, pretends to take offence. “Anna, it’s Bob Marley—how can you not like him?”

  “Marley Smarley, whatever. All I know is that I love the way you’re playing it.”

  “But it’s a classic. He’s a legend. All about love and opening minds,” he replies before she puts her finger to his lips. Her perfume and the pot blend together and it makes his head swim. He wonders if she’ll pull away the guitar to sit on his lap. With fingers hovering over the strings, he crosses two and hopes she might.

  “It doesn’t matter if it’s the most famous song in the world,” Anna whispers. “You always play it like you might have written it just for me.”

  The lump that catches in his throat isn’t a side effect from smoking too much or the remnants of pot but something else. Charlie looks down at his fingers on the fret board and then at her relaxed smile.

  Even though he can’t give her diamonds or fancy gifts, pay for lunch or afford grand gestures, he knows that he can make her happy in other, more meaningful ways. And he’s thankful for the ability to pour his heart and soul into an instrument that’s an extension of him.

  Because Anna’s earlier annoyance has hung like a dumbbell round his neck all afternoon. He knows she hates how he hardly has a penny to his name and only a part-time job. It leaves him feeling guilty—wanting to give her the world but almost always falling short.

  Now, with her watching and drinking in every word sung, he feels better. And after Charlie’s run through every song he knows that reminds him of her, she flings her arms round his neck and kisses him with such intensity it’s like he’s dreaming. As if the weed they’ve smoked is messing with his head and heart. It feels like it might all explode.

  “I’m just going to pop inside quickly,” Anna says after her mouth is satisfied with deep, passionate kisses. “It’s just that I’m really hungry. And cold. And hungry.”

  He wraps his hands round her waist and laughs.

  “Why am I so hungry all of a sudden?”

  “You’ve got a case of the munchies, Anna,” he replies to reassure her. His own appetite grows too and he fondly recalls the sandwich from earlier. Wishing that he could have it all over again. He laughs, mind trailing off into variant weird and wonderful tangents because—pot.

  ***

  Whilst Anna gets down to business in the kitchen, Charlie watches her lay out rolls of bread and pastry parcels onto an array of trays ready for the oven. He takes in the smell that shortly follows and when she returns she’s got oven mitts on and a floral pinafore.

  “These are for you.” She points to a large plate full of rolls and hot twisted parcels. “Veggie, of course.”

  “You’re the best,” he says, tucking in with a feverish hunger. He devours most of the spring rolls before they’ve had a chance to cool down.

  Anna notices, teases him. “Slow down there, tiger. We’ve still got the rest of the night left, and I’m hungry too you know!”

  “Fine…”

  As she fills the palm of her small hand with food, she leans back and says quietly, “What was your first time like?”

  Charlie nearly chokes on the flaky pastry and spits out tiny crumbs as he thinks about how to reply. If she means what he think she does—a question that hasn’t been asked of him in a long time.

  She covers her mouth and casts her eyes down. “Sorry. That’s a really stupid question. It just popped into my head, don’t even ask me why.”

  “No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting to be asked that tonight.” He laughs, a little nervously. “Actually, I don’t think anyone has ever asked me to explain.”

  Anna shrugs and pops in a roll. Something tells Charlie that even if she’s gone quiet she’s still looking for an answer.

  “It was…okay, I guess,” he sighs, aware that he needs to tread carefully round such a potentially delicate subject.

  “Mine was rubbish.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, honest to God I thought that I might end up being celibate for the rest of my life. If that’s all I had in store, then I’d have signed up to become a nun.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “I was sixteen and this boy I was seeing at the time had a party, you know, one of those ‘parents are away in Costa Del Sol’ kind of deals, and I thought it might be a good time to get it over and done with,” she explains frankly, like she’s telling a story about someone else. “So we did it under his parents’ big four poster bed because we were shit scared of actually doing it on top, which is hilarious to think about now.”

  Charlie listens and imagines a younger Anna, just as brash and loud, if not more so. There’s no doubt in his mind that his sixteen-year-old self would have been very intimated by her.

  “He had no idea what to do, suppose I didn’t either but I’d read enough Jackie Collins by then to know it shouldn’t be so boring or over in three minutes. Though I guess it could have been worse.”

  “How?” he jokes.

  Anna leans forwards. “One of my old school friend’s friend at the time had sex in our local park in the bushes, whilst we all sat in the little playground. We heard everything. Saw a lot too. Just awful. I think that might be worse.”

  “Why
are you whispering? It’s not like she can hear you.”

  “Shhh, I’m high, all right?” She playfully hits him on the arm and leans back again. “What about you, then?”

  “Not half as interesting.”

  “Spill the beans, come on!”

  Anna’s persistence makes him sweat a little and he tries to recall memories that don’t feel real anymore. “…Well, it was my first year of University.”

  “Wow, really? Jesus. You’ve made me sound like a right hussy now.”

  “No, course not, there’s no judgment here,” Charlie replies.

  “I don’t regret it,” she says, and the way she’s so blasé, casual about it tells him that she definitely doesn’t. “Sorry, carry on. You were saying…”

  “Okay, so it was during first year at University. We had mixed halls and my room was next to this girl’s. She was in a few of my lectures and friends with a guy who liked to throw a lot of fresher’s parties in our section. We met, hung out a bit, and then she stayed over one night and well, that’s it. Nothing too scandalous, I’m afraid.”

  Anna frowns, puts down a pastry roll, and stares. “That’s it? Was it good or bad or amazing or crap?”

  “It was okay. Nothing to write home about.”

  “Guess it’s different for guys.”

  Charlie shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  When she wistfully sighs, he asks her what’s she’s thinking about. Anna slowly shrugs. “I dunno, I just kind of pictured you to be this roaming Casanova in your youth. I know that without out a shadow of doubt I’d have been first in line if I’d known you back then. If you’d been in the room next to mine at University, not sure I’d have been able to hold back. You would have most definitely not gone to any lectures!”

  “I was never that wild. You would have probably thought I was boring.”

  “You’re never boring.”

  He laughs, drums his fingers on the side of the small table. “Well, thank you, but honestly those years went by in a blur. Boring. Dull. Not that exciting.”