by CJ Morrow
‘Then he’s a shitty bastard as well,’ Sam said and they all started laughing again.
‘And he sleeps with his sister. If she is his sister, which I doubt.’
‘Urrgh,’ Sam and Charlie chorused.
‘And now I’ve had time to think about it I think he was after my money and my water.’
‘Your water?’
‘From the spring. He mentioned several times how it could be bottled and sold in his spa. I didn’t take it seriously, didn’t think that much about it, it’s against the rules anyway, which I told him repeatedly. But now I realise he thought he could convince me.’
‘Sleaze weasel,’ Charlie said, smirking.
‘I think he thought I would invest in his business too, his spa I think. He took me to a weird little theatre in someone’s back garden. Several of them thought I was an investor; I just thought they were mistaken, but now…’
‘Sleaze weasel,’ Sam spat.
‘Yeah, sleaze weasel with a broken nose now.’ Ella made an eek face. ‘Serves him right.’
‘So, why was Nathan lurking outside your front door waiting to punch Hal?’ Sam asked, not for the first time, and Ella knew she’d keep asking until she got an answer.
‘Nathan,’ Charlie called, as Nathan approached with a tray of drinks. He set them down on the table; it was busy in The Giddy Goat and they were lucky to have a table with such a good view of the stage. ‘What time are you on?’
‘Twenty minutes or so.’ Nathan put a cider in front of Ella, a lemon squash in front of Sam, a beer each for Charlie and himself, then took the tray back to the bar.
‘I hope he doesn’t sing that shitty song about me,’ Ella whispered to Sam.
‘It’s not about you,’ Sam whispered back.
‘Yes. It. Is,’ Ella said between gritted teeth as they watched Nathan come back.
‘So,’ Sam began, ‘what were you doing lurking outside Ella’s door?’
Nathan and Ella exchanged glances.
‘I’ll keep asking,’ Sam said.
‘She will,’ Charlie echoed.
‘I live opposite. I could see in Ella’s dining room window.’
‘You live opposite? You live opposite. You kept that quiet, Ella.’
‘I had no idea. Nathan always arrived in a van when he came to my place.’
‘I was usually coming from the yard,’ Nathan added.
‘So you really didn’t know he lived opposite?’
‘Not until he punched the sleaze weasel.’ They all started laughing again.
‘Things didn’t look right,’ Nathan said. ‘I could see right into Ella’s dining room and I could tell things weren’t good.’
‘Hal didn’t…’ Alarmed, Sam turned to Ella.
‘No. He may be a liar but no, he wasn’t violent.’ She frowned. She didn’t actually know what Hal was like. ‘Well, not to me anyway,’ she added.
‘Nathan, what could you see?’
‘Body language.’ Nathan shrugged. ‘It looked like a row. I just sauntered over, just in case.’
‘Well, wasn’t that lucky.’ Sam nudged Ella in the ribs. Ella moved out of range to prevent further nudging.
‘Do you think he’ll press charges?’ Ella said, suddenly worried at the prospect.
‘I doubt it, but I don’t care if he does.’ Nathan reached for his pint, took a long sip.
‘It’s busy in here for a Wednesday night,’ Charlie said, tactfully changing the subject and looking around as more and more people piled into The Giddy Goat. ‘Standing room only. Who else is on?’
‘It’s just me,’ Nathan said.
‘You’re popular.’
‘Local.’ Nathan nodded at a several people who waved to him, called his name. Someone gave him a cheesy grin and a thumbs-up.
Sam finished her drink and smiled. ‘That was lovely. What was it?’
‘Just squash. It’s probably the water that makes it tastes so good. It’s from Ella’s spring.’ Nathan narrowed his eyes across the table at Ella.
Ella mouthed ‘shut up,’ back at him.
‘Could you get me another, Charlie?’
‘I’ll go.’ Nathan stood up. ‘I need a glass of water for my voice anyway. Oil the vocal chords…’ he sounded self-conscious.
‘He’s going to sing that shitty song, I just know he is,’ Ella said as soon as he was out of range. Did she sound obsessive?
Sam shook her head. ‘Not everything is about you, Ella.’
Ella clamped her lips tight shut. If he sang the song she didn’t know what she’d do, how she’d react. She got a bitter taste in her mouth just remembering the last time he sang it.
‘So, Nathan is doing your work? That’s good. Good to have someone you can trust.’ Charlie nodded his approval.
‘Well, his father’s building firm is doing it. Nathan isn’t doing the work personally.’
‘He said he is,’ Sam said, she pulled an apple from her bag and bit into it with a crunch. ‘I’m so hungry,’ she said, when Ella blinked her surprise. ‘He was telling us when we were waiting for you to get here. You know, when you were late and I had to ring you to remind you, because you wouldn’t let Nathan call for you.’
‘Eat your apple,’ Ella said.
‘Yes, he said he’ll either be doing it himself or be supervising. He wants to ensure the work is top quality and the disruption kept to a minimum.’ Sam was obviously enjoying herself; she munched some more on the apple. Ella wondered how true it was. Wondered exactly what Nathan had said. ‘I don’t know why you two don’t just…’
‘Don’t just what, Sam?’ Nathan said, appearing with her drink.
‘Oh, nothing. Thanks.’ She took the drink and drank half the glass straight down.
‘I’d better go and,’ Nathan paused, ‘prepare myself.’ He turned, walked across the pub. He was wearing his usual white t-shirt and jeans, Ella watched his muscles flex as he walked, the muscles in his back, the muscles in his thighs. His hair was still incredibly short, she wondered what it would feel like if she touched it. Like the bristles on a brush? She imagined running her finger tips over it.
‘Ella,’ Sam said. She’d moved herself close enough to nudge Ella again.
‘What?’
‘Where were you? Not thinking about sleaze weasel, I hope.’ Sam started to laugh.
‘No. I really wasn’t.’
‘Hey, remember that first day we came to the village and you got stuck in the loos on the green. They had to get that old penny to let you out. That was so funny, wasn’t it?’
‘Hilarious,’ Ella said. She cringed and shuddered.
‘Have you been in there again since?’
‘Hardly.’ Ella smiled at Sam, a big shut up now smile.
‘Did Nathan tell you about the scout?’ Charlie asked.
‘Scout? No?’
Sam leaned in, took another crunch out of the apple. ‘Remember that odd woman who was at the pub that night, the last time Nathan played with the band. You know, when you stormed out.’
‘Yes.’
‘We all thought she was the drummer’s friend, remember.’
‘Yes. I remember.’ Ella remembered all too well, the skinny woman with tattoos and a brand new Lexus. The woman who said she was happy not to know Ella’s business and drove her home in silence. Bit of a lifesaver really.
‘Well, turns out she’s the scout, you know, the music scout.’
‘Is that true? I didn’t think it worked like that anymore.’
‘She only does it part-time, to fit in with her family.’
Ella remembered her talking about how she’d exploded when she was pregnant. No one had taken her seriously at the time, she didn’t look like a mother; she looked like a skinny Hell’s Angel.
‘You must be thrilled, Charlie,’ Ella said. ‘Well done.’ She patted Charlie on the back.
‘No. Not the band,’ he said, smiling; he didn’t seem bothered. ‘Just Nathan. Not necessarily him singing, although…’ Charlie
smiled. ‘He can sing, really sing. But it’s his song writing skills she’s after.’
Ella felt her heart skip a beat. Not the shitty song. Please God, not the shitty song. Ella felt sick. She wanted to run. Get out now, before he started the song. She looked around for an escape route but the place was jam-packed.
She took a large gulp of her drink.
Nathan came on. Ella watched him sit on a stool, prop his foot up on the rung. He smiled over in their direction. Sam waved back. Ella didn’t. He strummed on his acoustic guitar, tuned it, introduced the song. Ella didn’t think it was the shitty song, but then, it wasn’t called the shitty song and she didn’t actually know what the real title was. But once he started to sing she knew it wasn’t the shitty song. She relaxed, listened to his soft, melodious voice; the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. He was good. Completely different to Charlie, but so good. It was fast paced, jolly. People were humming along with him, they knew it.
‘He wrote this.’ Sam leaned over to Ella. ‘And everyone here knows it. Look at them.’
Ella nodded. They were loving him, smiling and clapping along with him.
When he finished the applause was loud, cheery, heartfelt. They were applauding one of their own. He sang another song, quieter, slower, thoughtful words. Followed it with a faster paced song. He sang ten songs one after another without a break, the audience whooping and whistling.
Finally he stopped. He hadn’t sung the song. Ella let out a long breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. He stood up, took an exaggerated, playful bow. Everybody laughed. Clapped him more. He turned to go, but of course they were shouting more, more, encore, more. He bowed again, glanced over at Ella, gave her a shy smile. She forced a smile back, by way of a thank you. Stupid Ella.
He picked up the guitar, sat back down. Grabbed the mic and started to talk.
‘This one is dedicated to Ella.’ He looked over at her again.
Ella heard a horrible loud hiccough. Someone laughed. Charlie patted her on the back. ‘Oh my God, was that me?’ she whispered into Sam’s ear.
Sam nodded, laughing.
‘I wrote this song for Ella,’ Nathan was speaking again.
‘Way to go, young Ella.’ Was that Walt’s voice?
‘But the last time it was performed, she ran out before she could hear the whole song. I hope she’ll stay and listen this time.’
Bastard. Bastard. Not only was he going to sing the shitty song, he was telling everyone that it was about her. She tried to stand up, tried to escape but the pub was so full now, everyone packed in so tightly that she couldn’t even push her chair back far enough to straighten her legs. They had all been summoned for her ritual humiliation.
She slumped back down into her seat, her face reddening, her eyes stinging. She felt hot, clammy hot. She felt sick.
‘Don’t sing it, please don’t sing it,’ she called out, but at that exact moment Nathan strummed the guitar and the pub filled with applause and Nathan never heard her plea. There was no escape. Ella put her head on the table and let the tears flow. What a bastard. What a bastard.
Nathan started to sing. The familiar words felt like needles on her skin; every word hurt. ‘…drunken fumble in a pub car park, icy breath that tastes of gin, an angry girlfriend in the background.’
Ella tried her hardest to drown out the words, but every one was crystal clear. Every word worked its way into her brain, every single syllable. ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard’, she said to herself, hissing to stop his song getting in. But it didn’t work.
She put her hands over her ears, starting humming to herself. Finally, she could only feel the rhythm, finally the words were muffled. She hummed away the song, willing it to finish. She had to stop, had to take a breath, but if she was quick she wouldn’t hear too much.
‘…Psycho Phoebe…’ What did he just say? She didn’t hum anymore, she listened. ‘Regretful, awful one night stand, stalker with a heavy hand…’
Ella gulped. This was the part she’d never heard. Had he said Phoebe? Or had she just imagined that?
Nathan had paused now. He had reached the end of the song. Someone clapped, someone else shushed the clapper. Nathan turned to look Ella full in the face. The audience was silent, expectant. Ella watched Nathan’s chest rise as he took a deep breath, then he plucked at his guitar strings, then he sang, letting his voice fill the pub.
‘Because Ella, it was only ever you I wanted. Only ever you I loved.’
The pub crowd hooted and hollered, whistled and cheered. Those who could stood up to continue their ovation. Ella looked on, confused, mesmerised, shocked.
She watched Nathan get down from the stage, watched him head in her direction. He was fielding handshakes and pats on the back, even an autograph hunter. He was laughing and smiling and continually looking over at her, checking she was still there, checking she hadn’t escaped.
‘You were right after all; that song was about you,’ Sam said. ‘I wasn’t expecting that, were you?’
Ella shook her head slowly. ‘I’m very confused,’ was all she said just as Nathan reached her.
‘Sorry for embarrassing you,’ he whispered, leaning in close to Ella’s neck. ‘And thanks for hearing me out.’
Ella nodded again, moved away from him so that they were facing each other. ‘So,’ she said, ‘Phoebe?’
‘I’m not proud of myself.’ He reached over and wiped the drying tears from Ella’s face with his thumbs. ‘It was a shabby, drunken one night stand. A one-off, I thought. But Phoebe, who I think might not be completely stable…’
‘Psycho was what you said in your song,’ Ella interrupted.
‘Yes. Maybe that’s not fair. Maybe I need to change that. Anyway, she decided she wanted more. I don’t know why. She started following me around.’
‘Stalking,’ Ella said, referencing the song again.
‘Poetic licence,’ Nathan said.
‘I never recognised her from that night in the pub car park. You know, the drunken fumble.’ She watched his face.
‘Poetic licence,’ he said again, letting his eyes stare straight into hers.
‘Well, whatever. I never connected that girl to Hal’s,’ Ella paused, looking for the right word, ‘sister.’
‘Obviously, not his sister,’ Nathan said. ‘Though anything is possible. You can’t believe anything he says.’
‘No.’ Ella was watching Nathan’s lips now, watching as they moved over his teeth when he spoke. He was close enough that she could inhale his warm, earthy scent.
‘After the scene, after you’d gone,’ Nathan continued, ‘Hal appeared. We almost had a fight.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? When you saw me with Hal, why didn’t you tell me then?’
‘Badmouth your boyfriend. How would that have looked? What would you have thought?’
Ella shrugged. ‘He wasn’t my boyfriend.’
It was Nathan’s turn to shrug. ‘It must have looked so comical, him taking a pathetic swing at me, me pushing him out of the way. The smokers enjoyed it, they roared with laughter.’ Nathan reached for Ella’s hand, pulled it towards him.
‘They get a ringside view of everything,’ Ella said.
‘Not everything,’ he said, pulling her close and kissing her. And it was a heart-stopping, knee-buckling, loin-churning kiss.
And the pub crowd clapped and cheered and laughed.
THE END
Blame It On The Onesie was inspired by a short story I wrote years ago. That story was called The Spring of Life. It’s short, and a little dark. You’ll notice that the names are different and, to some extent, the situation, but the source of the spring’s supposed power remains the same. If you’d like to read the inspiration for Blame It On The Onesie – get it here, for free.
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Full length novels by CJ Morrow
Romantic Comedy
Mermaid Hair and I Don’t Care – a romantic comedy about shoes,
surf and second chances.
Lily’s life is on track:
The love of her life is about to make a commitment
Her dream job is within her grasp
She's wearing her favourite shoes
What could possibly go wrong?
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The Finder – Stonehaven Book #1
The Illusionist – Stonehaven Book #2
Short stories
• Is there life after death?
• Is time-travel the way to right the wrongs of the past?
• What if your dead husband could come back?
Twelve months, twelve tales, twelve twists – with a continuous thread.
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One last thing…
Thank you so much for reading Blame It On The Onesie. I really do appreciate it. I am an Indie Author, not backed by a big publishing company, so every time a reader downloads one of my books, I am genuinely thrilled. I’ve worked hard to eliminate any typos and errors, but if you spot any, please let me know: [email protected].
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And if you’d like to read another of my romcoms, try Mermaid Hair and I Don’t Care – A romantic comedy about shoes, surf and second chances. And…plenty of mishaps and office politics.