“Are you kidding?” says Leia. “We’re here now. Come on. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Key in the door. Stomach knots.
“You OK, Skywalker?”
She’s gonna run a mile.
“Fine.”
Push door open. What was I thinking?
It’s spotless.
Like he’s hired somebody to come in and clean. It even smells fresh. The skylight’s open and the light makes it feel like we’re stepping into an old photograph. The bed is folded up, the carpet hoovered and the kitchen corner is gleaming. It’s still tiny, but wow.
“It’s perfect!” says Leia, walking in like she’s viewing it to rent.
Thanks, Dad. I don’t know how you knew, but thanks.
Leia drops her bag and takes off her hoodie. She’s wearing a white T-shirt with a skull and crossbones on the back and no arms and I see the black of a bra strap. The dark edge of it against her skin.
“Whose is it?” She’s straight down on the floor looking at the train of DVDs and videos.
“My dad’s,” I say, opening the fridge, and there’s actual food, like steak and potato salad and coleslaw that looks homemade.
“Weird.”
“What’s weird?” Leia looks over.
“Nothing. You want some juice?”
She nods and I take out the full box of grape and pour two mugs.
“So he doesn’t live with you then?” says Leia, as I hand her a mug and sit next to her on the sofa. It’s nearly half three. Dad won’t be home from work until seven at least.
“He moved out a couple years ago. I come here sometimes, to watch films.” I sip the cold sweetness. Leia does the same, and we’re alone, on a sofa that turns into a bed, in an attic, in the middle of the afternoon. Nice work, big man. And I didn’t even plan it like that.
“It’s good that you still see him,” she says. “Last time I saw my mum I was four.” She sips again.
“What happened?” I say, then regret it. “Sorry. None of my business.”
“It’s fine. She left. It happens.”
“Yeah,” I say.
“She was an actress, is an actress, I dunno. She lives in America somewhere.”
I leave the space for her to carry on if she wants.
“My dad got her her first job, after she took time off to have me and Toby, some TV pilot thing over there he was working on. It was supposed to be her breakthrough role. We all lived in California for a year.”
“No way.”
Leia nods. “I was only two, Toby would’ve been five or six. Anyway, they make the pilot, the company likes it, says they’ll make the actual show, everybody’s excited, then, six months into filming, they pull the plug.”
“Why?” I’m leaning forward for the story.
“God knows,” says Leia. “Somebody changed their mind, I guess. We pack up and move back to England and then a couple of weeks later she leaves. Turned out she’d been having an affair with the director and he promised her a part in his new film, and boom, see you later, Mum.”
“Wow, and you haven’t seen her since?”
Leia shakes her head. “Nope. Guess we didn’t fit into her career plans. She sent money when I turned eleven, but I made Dad send it back, so she stopped.”
“Fair enough.”
Leia looks at me, like that’s not what she thought I would say.
And then it’s quiet. Not awkward, just quiet.
Tell her about Dad’s thing.
“My dad made a pilot. In America too. He was an alien.”
Leia’s looking at me. I smile. “He’s big. It was ages ago. They made him the Big Alien. It’s kinda lame.”
She doesn’t say anything and it’s clear she’s half listening, half thinking about something else. I nudge her knee. “You OK?”
“I’m fine.”
“What was Michelle talking about before?”
Leia shakes her head. “This place is so quiet,” she says. “No interruptions. Just like it should be.”
And out of nowhere, I can feel my blood. She’s sipping her juice and I’m watching her and I wanna be the mug. I wanna be the mug she’s holding. I want her lips.
“Come on then,” she says, and I almost choke on my juice.
“What?”
“Noah’s film? Let’s watch it.”
“Oh, yeah, course,” I say, and I get down on my knees and load the DVD then go back to the sofa. Leia takes off her All Stars and curls her feet up. Her toes are millimetres away from my left thigh and I’m fighting the urge to touch them and the TV screen goes black and this is perfect.
Marc said: Great players make things happen.
I can’t move.
Noah’s file is amazing. Long Time Round.
It’s actually set in Birmingham. A guy called Nathan gets a place away at university, which is his dream, but he’s torn about leaving because it’s just his dad looking after him and his younger brother, Jonah, who’s already running with a gang led by this proper bad guy called Darren. His girlfriend, Sophia, doesn’t want him to leave either, but Nathan makes his decision and does go and start his course in a new city. He meets all these uni people and feels well out of place, but excited.
Back at home, under Darren’s influence, Jonah gets deeper and deeper in trouble and their dad can’t handle it, so Nathan has to drop out of uni to come home. The second half of the film is the build-up to Jonah doing some big job, and Nathan’s inevitable showdown with Darren to stop it happening, mixed in with him trying to patch things up with Sophia.
It’s all building to this big climax, but then, just when things are going OK with Sophia and Nathan is ready to properly confront Darren, some other gang guy, who we don’t even know, takes Nathan out.
It’s proper sad.
And it’s like watching my life. I recognise it all. Not the story as such, but the details. The locations and the mood and the colours, the relationships and the way people speak to each other, make me feel like I’m actually in the film. Like my real world was on the screen. I feel like I know Noah. Like he knows me.
I feel like I just got hit in the stomach with a medicine ball.
“Wow,” Leia says, as we both just stare at the end credits and listen to the slow plucking guitar soundtrack.
“You think that’s based on his life?” she says.
I don’t move.
“Luke, are you OK?”
That’s when I realise I’m crying.
My lower jaw is shaking and I’m blowing out air to try and calm myself. Leia doesn’t know where to look and I feel stupid and embarrassed, but it’s all I can do to stay completely still in case I properly bawl like a baby.
Get it together.
I try to picture Noah, sitting at a computer, typing the script. Is that his life? It has to be. It was too real to be fake. It looked amazing. Like each scene was a photograph. No gimmicks, no sped-up drug scenes or slow-motion violence. It wasn’t about gangs; it was about people who happen to be part of a world. It was about family and guilt and anger.
It was about love.
I wipe my eyes with the back of one hand. “Yeah, sorry. Stupid.”
I look at her and try to smile. Leia’s head tilts and she smiles back. Then she’s on me. Straddling my lap, her knees either side of my hips, her hands on my chest. I look up at her, and my hands slide up her thighs to her waist. She’s smiling, leaning forward. My hands curve round to the small of her back, her hands push into my chest, taking her weight, and we kiss, the places where our bodies are touching pressing against each other like they’re hungry.
She’s pulling at the back of my neck, I’m pushing her hips into mine and my hands are trying to tell her everything, to press out my whole story on to her body, to let her know me.
Then I hear Dad’s laugh.
Leia bounces on to the sofa next to me as I spring up.
“What’s wrong?” she says.
I look at my watch, it
’s only just gone five. What’s he doing home?
His booming cackle climbing the stairs. Sounds like he’s on the phone. I’m standing up. “It’s … he’s not supposed to … we need to … gimme a sec.”
He’s outside the door. The sound of keys. Then a woman, laughing too. He’s not alone? Nightmare. My body’s trying to twist-up like plastic in a fire. They’re both giggling. New woman? I’m looking at Leia, she’s nervous and confused.
“Who is it, Luke?” She’s straightening her hair, her face is flushed. Key in the door. I look at her and I freeze. Door opening, more giggling, hold on, is that …?
Awkward times infinity.
Dad and Mum are in the doorway.
What the hell is this?
Dad forces a smile, his eyes dancing from me to Leia, then Mum, then back to me again. He’s holding a bottle of something.
“What a surprise, son.”
I look at Mum, she purses her lips and lifts her eyebrows. The silence is thick.
“What’s going on?” I say, finally.
“Lukey,” Mum goes to speak.
Dad cuts her off. “We just came here for a chat. Right, Ange? Talk things through, like. I didn’t think, don’t you have a class or something?”
The pair of them are squirming. Yo, they’ve done this before!
Then Mum takes control of the situation and steps forward, cracking the tension. “You must be Leia!” she says, stepping past me. I turn and watch her shake Leia’s hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Angela.”
My head hurts. “How do you …? Mum?”
Mum carries on shaking Leia’s hand, but looks at me. “Your brother told me her name.”
She’s overdoing her smile. Leia doesn’t know where to look and I watch her body trying to curl into itself. This is too much.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” says Dad, like we’re gonna just sit and have a cup of tea together. Like this isn’t some kind of freaky dream sequence.
“You’ve only got two mugs, Dad.” He closes the door. I’m shaking my head. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s all right,” he says. “I’ve got another one somewhere.”
“I don’t mean about the mugs. I mean, what the hell?”
Mum sits down next to Leia. “So, Leia, you’re at the college too?”
Leia glances at me, then nods.
I try to help her. “We have film studies together, Mum.”
Mum’s nodding. “Course, film. That’s great. And how’s it going?”
Leia still can’t get words out.
“It’s fine.” I offer, “We’re working on a script.”
“A script?” calls Dad from the sink. “Fantastic! You didn’t say anything, Lukey.”
All eyes on me. I’m frozen.
“So Leia,” says Dad, carrying on like I’m not even in the room. “Who’s the Star Wars fan? Your mum or your dad?”
He fills the kettle. Leia checks with me. I shrug.
“My dad,” she says, folding her hoodie in her lap.
Mum laughs to herself. “Luke and Leia, the movie romance.”
“Mum!”
“What? I’m just saying. It’s funny, eh?”
“It’s fate,” says Dad, not turning around from the sideboard. Fate? Who is this guy? And what’s he done with my father?
“Actually, they were brother and sister,” says Leia. “I mean, in the film. They weren’t a couple.”
Mum frowns. “But she kisses him. I remember it, Joe, they kiss, right?”
I want to die.
Dad turns round and winks at me. “They certainly did, Ange, but Leia’s right. They were brother and sister. Vader’s kids. You take sugar, Leia?”
Enough.
“We have to go,” I say, reaching for my shoes. “We’ve got a thing to prepare, for tomorrow.” I stare at Leia and she follows my lead, pulling her shoes on.
“What about your teas?” says Dad and he smiles at Mum and I think I might throw up. I’m picking up both our bags, taking Leia’s hand and leading her to the door.
“It was nice to meet you,” Leia says.
“You too, sweetheart.” Mum waves like the queen from the sofa and I’m opening the door. I let Leia step on to the stairs then look back at Mum, who pouts, then mimes the word “Lovely,” and the last thing I see before I pull the door closed is her smiling and giving me the thumbs-up.
We used to test ourselves on long car journeys. Marc had a black Casio with a stopwatch on it and we’d time each other to see how long we could hold our breath. I’d stare out at the fields as we drove up north to see Uncle Chris, my cheeks puffed out to hold more air, my vision blurring as my head went faint. It always felt like an hour had gone by.
“Thirty-two seconds,” Marc’d say, smiling at me. “Good try, Lukey.” Then I’d hold the watch and time him, staring at the black digital numbers as they changed. I always loved the way eight became nine, just one piece disappearing to make a whole different number.
One minute fifty-four seconds.
And Marc would exhale like a horse. “I can do better,” he’d say. “What’s the world record for holding your breath, Dad?” Dad said there were divers who could go underwater for something like twenty minutes. I didn’t believe him.
“Is that true, Mum?”
“If your dad says so.”
Twenty minutes? That was a whole episode of Ben 10.
“Reset the watch, Lukey, I’m going for it,” Marc said.
Dad laughed from the driver’s seat. I watched the numbers, knowing he’d never once got to two minutes.
When we hit 1:30 Marc starts to grip the inside door handle. 1:40, and Marc’s face is going red. 1:45. 1:50, I knew he’d burst soon. 1:55, I could see the cords in his neck and a vein in his temple. 1:58. 1:59.
“Mum, look at Marc.”
Mum turning back and the shock on her face. “Marc, stop it! Marc!”
2:01. 2:02. He’d broken the two minutes.
“Joe! Stop the car. Pull over now!”
I don’t know how long he was unconscious for. I didn’t time that, but I remember sitting in the car, watching Mum rub his back, walking him up and down on the hard shoulder, thinking, my big brother is dangerous. Even to himself.
If humans evolve to achieve telepathy, will there still be awkward silences?
I’m staring forward. The sun’s gone behind the tall houses and me and Leia are walking through shadows towards the high road. I’m embarrassed. I’m confused. I’m properly excited. That just happened. Man, she can kiss. How long have Mum and Dad been meeting up? What does it mean? Does Marc know? What would’ve happened if they hadn’t showed up?
“Sorry.”
“It’s OK.”
Leia’s hands are in her hoodie as she walks next to me. It’s getting cold.
“I didn’t plan it, I mean, that, I just—”
“It was my fault,” she says, “I shouldn’t have …”
I see Mum and Dad in the doorway. “I don’t even know what that was. They’ve hardly spoken to each other for nearly two— Wait,” I stop walking. “You shouldn’t have?”
Leia carries on a few steps then stops too.
“I got carried away,” she says, turning back. “Stupid.”
Why would she say that?
“Why would you say that?”
She’s looking at me like there’s stuff she wants to say, frowning like she wishes I could just read her mind. I know how that feels. This could be rubbish. I have to save it.
“It didn’t feel stupid.” I don’t look away. “It felt amazing.”
She doesn’t speak. Say something else then.
But I can’t think of anything, so it’s just the pair of us on the pavement. A backdrop of traffic sounds. Me, open. Her, frowning. What is she scared of?
I walk towards her. She doesn’t back off, but she’s shrinking into her hoodie.
“I wanted that to happen,” I say. “Didn’t you?”
Her
frown flickers. I risk a hand out towards her.
“I think so,” she says. I pull back my hand. She thinks so?
But then she smiles. Like she’s not allowed to say the words, but wants me to know. I smile back.
“The bus stops down here.” I point.
Her right hand comes out of her hoodie pocket and she steps closer. I keep my eyes on hers as her hand moves up over my shoulder, to my neck and then my face. I fight the urge to flinch as her fingertips move to my scar. Her hand goes to pull away, but I hold her wrist, keeping her fingers against my face.
“How did this happen, Luke?” she says, following the line across my cheek. I see Craig, leaning out of the passenger window. I see Marc, standing in the kitchen doorway. I see Tommy handing me the knife.
“I wasn’t ready.”
I let go of her hand, but she keeps it there.
“Who did this to you?”
And I feel a tidal wave of everything swelling from my stomach, moving behind my ribs, heading for my throat. I don’t want to cry again. I don’t want to cry again. So I just step forward and hold her and she holds me back. Her arms around my middle, face against my neck. My arms criss-crossed round her bag, cheek resting on the top of her head. Right here. On the pavement. Like we’re a life-size sculpture of what a real embrace is. As the street lights pop into life.
I breathe in the coconut of her shampoo and think to myself how all my favourite moments involve no talking at all.
Mathilda: Is life always this hard, or is it just when you’re a kid?
Leon: Always like this.
- Leon: The Professional, Luc Besson. 1994
Mum’s waiting for me in the kitchen.
Her car wasn’t outside so Marc must still be out. Did she tell him to stay out so she could speak to me? Does he know already? Did Dad want to be here as well?
I feel Leia’s hand on my cheek. I see her head against the window as the bus pulls away. Does this mean we’re together?
“Sit down, love.” Mum’s holding her mug in two hands and I wonder if it feels like a rehearsed scene to her as much as it does to me.
“I know you must have questions.”
I sit down. Leia on top of me on Dad’s sofa. The heat of her mouth.
Does she regret it?
Mum’s wrestling with her script; she thinks I’m gonna kick off. “See, adults, me and your dad, it’s … sometimes you find comfort in what you know, the familiar … What’s funny?”
It's About Love Page 14