Jersey Girl

by J A Heron

  “I think that’s great, and perhaps, one day, I’ll get to hear you play.”

  “Perhaps.” He smiles. It’s bright, lighting up his whole face.

  The sugar rush high is the perfect antidote to my hangover low. I’m feeling more like myself again. I really wish they served alcohol in this place. I laugh out loud.

  “What’s funny?” He smirks.

  “I was just wondering. If I owned this place, I’d put an optic up there on the wall.” I point to a space. “I wish they served alcohol here.”

  “Then it would be a pub, not a coffee house.”

  “That’s true.”

  “You want to get something a little stronger?”

  “Yeah. Why not?”

  We put on our coats and make our way out into the cold once more. We take a slow walk towards a pub that’s close by.

  “It’s really beautiful here,” he comments.

  “It is. I love that I can call this place home.”

  “It’s been a couple of years, and it’s easy to forget the beauty of this island.” He looks directly into my eyes as he speaks, making me blush. “I don’t think I’ll forget again in a hurry.”

  The heat creeps up my cheeks, flaming as it travels. I really like this guy.

  We continue to walk, shoulder to shoulder. I have an overpowering need to slip my hand into his, but I refrain. Even though he’s saying the right things, and behaving like he’s interested, I could still be wrong. Making a move on him is not wise if I’ve read the signals all wrong. That would be embarrassing, especially if he pulled his hand away in disgust. I’m happy to be in his company for now, without physical contact.

  We walk in silence for a while, and all the time I’m mentally cursing Benny and her parents. I’m tied up this weekend with my best friend duties. Oh, how I wish it was different. I’d casually invite myself to this gig Connor was talking about. I’d love to spend some more time with him before he goes back to London.

  We arrive at a bar close to the marina. It’s crazy hot in here, so I remove my jacket and take a seat at the bar. I don’t come in here very often, so my anonymity will bode well for some time alone with Connor.

  Connor orders a beer, and a rum and Coke for me. I want to get to know more about him, but I feel like I’ve bombarded him with enough questions.

  “You know where I live. Where in London do you live?”

  “I have a place in West London. Kensington. It’s modest, but home,” he says, dreamily. I guess he really loves the place he lives, but if he lives in Kensington, then modest isn’t a word I’d use to describe that area. I want to ask if he lives alone, but I’m too scared.

  For my own sanity, I need to ask.

  “Is there a Mrs Reeves, or a significant other?”

  “I wouldn’t be here with you if there was,” he says. His tone suggests he’s offended by my question.

  “Forgive me. I had to ask. I’ve been wrong before, so I didn’t want to make the same mistake again.”

  “It’s okay, I understand,” he says. “I know there’s no man in your life. What about other relationships?”

  “I only have Benny,” I tell him. “She’s my everything.”

  “I can tell you two are really close.”

  “She saved me. I had a tough time, and she came along just at the right time. I’m so lucky she wasn’t one of the many people who turned their backs on me.” Not a lot of people know about how Benny rescued me, so I don’t know why I’m telling him this. He’s still a stranger to me, I should be wary, but there’s something about this guy that makes me want to open up.

  “And the woman who was at your place yesterday. Was she another who turned her back on you?”

  I look down at my fingers. I knew he could see right through my lie. “Jehovah’s Witness,” I remind him. I take a risk, raising my eyes. Big mistake. He’s giving me a look that says, ‘what a load of bullshit’. “She’s no one.” I don’t want to get into that, so I quickly change the subject. “Another?” I ask, looking at his now empty glass. “It’s my round.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  The afternoon – early evening – is easy, light, and carefree. Being in this man’s company is the best fun I’ve had in a long time. I always have fun with Benny, but this is different.

  “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you…”

  “But?” I sense that three letter word.

  “I don’t think I’ll see you again.”

  This poignant moment upsets me; I’d really like to see him again, but it could be ages before that happens.

  “That’s a shame.” I try not to sound disappointed, and I think I manage to pull it off.

  “It sure is. I’m busy all week, fixing a few things around Fred’s house, then I have a gig on Saturday night. We’re performing at an engagement party, then I go home on Monday. I will try to see you before I leave, but can’t commit to it.”

  “I’m away all weekend, so sorry to say I’m busy too.” The silence between us is profound.

  “That makes me sad.” He voices the way I feel.

  “Hey.” I lightly dig him in the ribs with my elbow. “If you’re ever in Jersey again, look me up. You know where I am.” I try to remain upbeat, considering disappointment has hit me hard.

  “Of course.” He smiles. “It’s a shame. I really like you, Jersey Girl.”

  He takes me by complete surprise and leans in. His lips find mine, and he gently strokes my lips with his tongue. I open up slightly, tasting his mouth, and it’s like the sweetest nectar known to man. I’m floored by his kiss, feeling the heat intensify between my legs.

  “Hey!” The guy behind the bar grabs our attention, pulling us apart. “Can’t you read?”

  He points to the sign above the rows of bottled spirits that line the bar.

  No public displays of affection allowed.

  You will be asked to leave.

  What a load of shit. I’ve never known anything like it. No wonder I don’t come in here very often. I chuckle. “Sorry,” Connor and I say together.

  “Thank you, and keep them coming,” I whisper to the server who passed by with a tray of champagne. It’s not my favourite drink, but it’ll do.

  “Don’t go too mad tonight. We need to keep a clear head,” Benny warns.

  It’s only six in the evening, and we arrived in Guernsey around eight last night. Mrs Reese-Wilson was just saying goodbye to the last of her needlecraft ladies as we arrived, armed with bags galore, which the driver helped us with after collecting us from the marina. It was only a twenty-minute drive to the massive mock stately home Benny’s parents reside in. I’ve been here before, but I’d forgotten how majestic this place is. I’m staggered by its scale. The grounds, the rooms that lead off rooms, the little crevices perfect for hiding in when things get too much. Being here, in a place where I know I don’t belong, can be a little overwhelming, so the hiding places are a perfect haven to escape to when I need a few minutes to myself.

  We’re due to catch the last ferry to Jersey tomorrow evening, and I’m counting down the minutes.

  I adjust my tight-fitting ball gown; the boning of the corset is digging into my ribs. I’m so uncomfortable, and my boobs feel like pork meat squashed tight into sausage skins.

  Benny and I knock back another glass of champagne each, and the giggles have started. We can’t get too drunk tonight; her parents wouldn’t approve and we’re bound to make fools of ourselves.

  My feet are killing me, and I can’t sit down because of this bloody dress. I shift from foot to foot, trying to alleviate the pain that’s started to radiate up my ankles.

  “Stop fidgeting!” Janine scolds. Benny’s mother wafts towards us, with an air of grace and elegance. She’s used to this, me. I know I don’t fit in here, but I’m trying so hard to make the most of this crappy situation.

  We still don’t know why we’re here. There’s always an ulterior motive behind these invitations. It will involve Benny’s parents
manipulating her into doing something she’s not too keen on.

  Benny and I are sharing a bedroom. There are enough rooms for us to have one each, but we’re so used to sharing, and we wanted to be together, more for moral support than anything else. We’ve managed almost twenty-four hours here already, and we’ve come to this point unscathed, but the night is young.

  Guests start to arrive. We’re greeted, and introduced to so many people. I will never remember everyone’s name.

  Janine Reese-Wilson has gone all out. When I enter the main dining room, it all becomes clear. The woman’s design efforts are easy to see.

  I’m escorted in by a lovely man dressed in coattails, sans a top hat. That would just be ridiculous. I have a feeling the Reese-Wilson’s want me and Benny separated for a while, so they can spring whatever trick they have up their sleeves on her.

  Each table is set up stunningly, and there’s room for about forty guests. Each table has a meticulous place setting. I’m so pleased to see the wine glasses at each setting. It means more anaesthetic to get through tonight. I run my fingers across the starched tablecloth, slightly nudging one of the knives so that it’s no longer perfectly aligned with all the other cutlery. I giggle to myself for my rebel side coming to the fore.

  I’m the only one in the room, and I take a look around. I’ve always liked it in here, as there are large patio doors that open out into the grounds. I take a peek outside and notice a commotion of people setting up musical instruments. This must be our entertainment for the evening, no doubt comprising of a sixty-piece orchestra all playing classical music. I do have varied music tastes, from pop and RnB, to classical and opera. I appreciate all types of music, so no matter what Janine has in store for us entertainment wise, I will love it.

  The nice man who escorted me into this room opens the door and stands in the doorway. “Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served.”

  It’s like vultures descending on a dead carcass.

  Streams of people enter the dining hall, all wanting to know where they’re to sit. I stand stock still, waiting for my best friend to enter. I feel like a spare part once again as each guest is shown to their seat. There are four seats on the top table, so I make my way towards them.

  “Miss Powell.” My attention is grabbed. The nice man pulls out a seat at the bottom end. I don’t let the confusion mar my face for too long. I don’t want to seem presumptuous, but I would’ve thought my seat would be next to Benny’s.

  I make my way down to where the nice man is waiting patiently to assist me sitting down. I’ve seated myself all my life, so why I need help now is beyond me. I don’t forget my manners, though. “Thank you,” I say. I have to squeeze my stomach in to sit. I curse the gown I’m wearing, wishing I could rip it from my body, giving me the ability to breathe properly. I knew I should’ve bought a bigger size.

  I feel something in my tummy, other than the feeling of constriction. The nervous knots are twisting together uncontrollably. I can feel something coming.

  The doors open. Mr and Mrs Reese-Wilson enter with big smiles on their faces. In all the years I’ve known them, I’ve never seen them smile so wide. Well, I have, but they’re usually fake smiles, plastered on their faces for the sake of whatever company they’re in. Tonight, here and now, they’re sporting genuine, shit-eating, the cat that got the cream smiles, and this makes me nervous.

  Following behind them, I see Benny, and she’s not alone. A guy dressed in a suit walks beside. I’m drawn to the way he’s holding her hand, gripping tightly.

  What the hell?

  This isn’t good, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention, letting me know that, in the time we’ve been apart, something she’s not happy about has been organised without her consent.

  If Benny’s face could speak, it’d be saying, ‘help me’. She looks shell-shocked, distraught, and desolate. She looks amazing in her gown, though. A deep crimson, form fitting dress with a small train that trails behind her as she gracefully walks through the dining hall. Her debutante training comes in to play, but I’ve seen that look in her eyes before. She’s despondent. She’s trying to put on a brave face, with her shoulders back as she walks through all these strangers with her dignity intact. I love her so much, and I admire her.

  I catch Benny’s eye as she takes a seat to her mother’s right side, sitting opposite the guy in a suit who is wearing a bloody bow tie. Benny is pleading with her eyes, and as I go to stand, wanting to pull her away from all of this, she shakes her head. It’s a warning. She’s telling me to stay where I am. I shrug my shoulders, looking for any sign of how I can help pull her out of all this. Benny’s father is chatting away with the young man to his left, and every so often, he places a hand on his shoulder and laughs at something the bow tie-wearing dick says.

  The guy is Benny’s future husband; that much is clear. Something arranged without her knowledge, and I’m willing to bet all that I have, which isn’t much, Benny is dying a little inside.

  The doors open again, and servers enter, moving left and right, delivering starters in a timely, well-practised fashion.

  My appetite has vanished, and as I look up, Benny is staring down at her food, while everyone around is tucking in. They ignore her. As her world looks like it has collapsed all around her, they all sit around chatting, eating, and drinking without a care in the world.

  My best friend is all alone, and all I want to do is go to her, hold her, and tell her everything will be alright. I’ve had my warning, and things would be worse for her if I were to contravene her wishes. I have to bide my time, sit through dinner, and wait for a moment alone with her.

  “Aren’t these scallops a dream, dear?” The elderly woman beside me smiles.

  “I guess.” My response is clipped. I’m not really in the mood for chit chat with a stranger while I’m concentrating on the misery at the other end of the room. I’m trying to figure out what to say to my best friend as soon as I get the chance. Nothing short of words of wisdom, words that will comfort and console will do, but I can’t come up with anything.

  “They’re fresh. Caught off the coast this morning, no doubt.” The woman continues to chatter, even though I’ve made it clear I’m not up for shooting the breeze with her. I don’t want to appear rude. I’d say she’s in her seventies, dripping in jewellery of the finest quality. She’s clearly from money, and has a timeless grace surrounding her persona. I can tell she was a looker in her day, and although the lines around her face say she’s lived, she’s still a beautiful woman. “I remember you. Kat, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right. I’m Ben… err, Bernadette’s friend.” I reach out to shake her hand, and she accepts.

  I must remember to use Benny’s full name.

  “It’s lovely to see you again. I think it’s been a couple of years since we were all here, invited into the most pretentious surroundings, by the most pretentious couple that ever lived.” She actually giggles.

  I warm to her immediately, even though I don’t remember her.

  “The pleasure is all mine.” I shake her hand again, a little more vigorously than before.

  “I’m Audrey. Would you like some more wine?”

  “I’d love some.” It’s the only thing I’ve consumed since I sat down.

  Audrey tops up my glass, and I take a huge mouthful. It hits the pit of my stomach and starts to swim with all the champagne I’ve had so far. I really need to eat.

  “You live with Benny in Jersey, isn’t that right?” I love the fact that this woman has used Christopher’s pet name for my best friend. She must be a dear friend of the family to know this information. Especially since the Reese-Wilson’s hate that name.

  “Yes, that’s right. We’ve lived together for about four years. We’re best friends.”

  “Yet you’re sitting down here with the other riff-raff.”

  When I look at her, a fresh wave of confusion crosses both our faces.

  “I was her foster mother.�
� She points discreetly towards the top of the table.

  “Mrs Reese-Wilson?” I probe. I never knew this about my best friend’s mother. Audrey nods, confirming my suspicion.

  “She came to me at the age of six months. Abandoned by her biological mother. It was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but she stayed when I refused to give her up. I suppose I got attached far too easily, and I couldn’t bear to let her go again. I feared what may happen to her if I pushed her back into the system.”

  Someone, please pick my mouth up off the floor!

  “I never knew that.”

  “No one does, my dear. She barely acknowledges my existence these days.”

  “That’s so sad. You gave her a life. She should be thanking you.”

  “Yes, well.” She shrugs. “It’s amazing how quickly people can turn on you, especially when you’ve served your purpose and are surplus to requirements.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been in a similar situation myself.”

  “I’d love to hear about that one day, but now is neither the time nor the place. Perhaps we could swap notes, hit back at the people who’ve screwed us over in the past.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Here’s my number. Call me, and we’ll put the world to rights as soon as we can.” She giggles. I’m handed a beautifully decorated card with a telephone number on it. It’s a landline, so I’m guessing this lovely lady doesn’t own a mobile phone.

  This night has been lightened slightly by being in Audrey’s company. She’s a fascinating woman, and I find myself wanting to hug her, like you’d hug a grandmother. I never knew my grandparents, so I can only guess what having them around would feel like. Audrey is making me wonder if it’s something akin to this.

  However, I see Benny occasionally, when her eyes meet mine. The sorrow has intensified, and I can’t wait to speak to her. I need to make sure she’s okay. I know she’s not, but I must do all I can to help her.

  After the dessert course, Mr Reese-Wilson stands up, tapping the side of his crystal wine glass with a knife. I guess it’s time for a toast.