A Little Rain (13 page)

“What happened?”

“Oh, nothing...”  It’s all he will say before the
football takes him away again to another plane.  So maybe it’s his fault he
didn’t see his baby.  God knows what he was doing then.

I liked it more when Marcia and Rob were together.  Really
I did.  Although I always got the feeling that Marcia didn’t like me being
there.  Even though me, Ruby and Rob get along like a blaze.  Rob said Marcia did
like me.  I was never sure.  Maybe I got in the way.  But then Rob said it was
his house and he has who he likes living there.  I know Rob likes having me
around.  He’s my best friend as well as my brother.  I just think Marcia’s volcanic
and strung up tight like a violin, whereas me and Rob are both chilled, flat on
our backs like ice cube trays.  I doubt she gets me and just thinks I’m Rob’s cling-on,
pain in the neck sister.  As a result I never got to know her that well.  Some
of her frosty looks or loaded comments made me back away.  We don’t talk now
really, unless we have to, and now what with all the heartache she has caused
Rob, I hate her right back.

Rob said when they were good, they were great.  But
they are both fiery, stubborn people.  Beautiful.  Look great together as a
couple but underneath the flawless surface the cracks run deep.  Jealously would
never go away.  They are always going to get stared at.  Marcia is stunning.  Then
there’s Rob’s spirit and strength.  But to trust him, I don’t know what he’s up
to half the time so god knows how Marcia trusted him.  I ask mum if she knows
where he is sometimes and she just shrugs.  She used to always say he was her good
boy, once upon a time.  It’s been a long time since I heard her say it.  I think
he’s good to me, always has been.  The way he looks out for me and would always
be there if I needed him, like I did last night.  I think that he still loves
Marcia and of course he loves Ruby, even more so, although I don’t hear him say
it.  He’s quiet with his feelings.

As I’m deep in thought, Rob starts waving something in
front of my face, my ringing phone.  I didn’t even hear it.  I take it from him
quickly.  It’s Etienne.  My stomach flips.  I answer quietly, “Hello?”  It’s
not a long conversation.  He asked me how I am and if I wanted to meet up.  I said
ok, when?  He said, tonight.  I was a little taken aback but still, I said, ok.
 He said good, 7 o’clock Covent Garden station.  I said, ok.  He said, see you
later.  I said ok, bye.  That was it.

Rob is looking at me.  He had turned his attention to
my every word when I would rather now he had been watching the football.  “There
you go.”  He says.  “Perfect.  Someone else for you to think about.  Now, don’t
be phoning Benny.”

“Why not?”  I jest, too excited now to even be
thinking about Benny.  Rob looks a little mad, but I hope he knows I’m only
teasing, well sort of anyway.  “Ok. No, I won’t,” I say.  “Not ‘til tomorrow at
least.”  He looks at me seriously.  “I’m joking!”

“You should just do without him completely.  He’s no
good for you.  Never will be.”  He doesn’t stop there.  “He’ll only ever bring
you down.  Better to be on your own than with someone who beats you.”  He walks
as he talks, waving his pint glass around.  It spills a little.  “Hey, if I
ever see him on his own...” he threatens, with dark density that sends cold shivers
right through me.  I nearly say nothing, keep quiet as I know he’s right, but I
can’t admit it.

All I can say is, “Ok, ok.  Shut up will you!”

“Yeah, well now you got someone else, maybe he’s right
up your street and will beat you too.”

“I don’t think so...”  It’s not what I want to say,
but my slow, clunking head cannot think of better words to answer his jibes.  A
minute ago he was all for it.

“How do you know?”  Rob jabs back, sharp as scissors.  “Everyone
has a dark side.”

“I know and you’re pretty fucking dark today.”  I’m
tired of arguing now, and light a cigarette to calm my anger, but can’t stop myself
giving one last dig back. “I’m always on the lookout for more
fun
.”  He’s
not going to win.

“Yeah well, I’m only watching out for you.  It was
hardly
fun
for you last night now was it?”  He has a point.  I admit defeat. 
There is a long pause.  I don’t like it but I know in a weird way this is him
being nice and actually giving a damn about me, trying to teach me a lesson.  Eventually
the silence is broken.  “Pool?” Rob asks, and I nod.  We stand up and Rob heads
over to the table to set up.  Just as I’m standing and going over to the bar, I
get an almost full-on head rush like I’ve been dropped headfirst into a bucket
of smoke.  I actually have a date.

“Fuck!”  I say, accidentally out loud, making the
bargirl pulling a pint nearby look at me uneasily.  “Sorry.”  I say.  She now
probably thinks I’m nuts.  Still, she comes over, and I buy more beer.  I also
buy a shot of whiskey for me and down it at the bar to steady my nerves.  I have
never been on a date before.  How am I actually going to do this?  For a start,
what am I going to wear?  What am I going to say?  What am I supposed to do?   Do
I offer to pay?  Walk through the door first?  Or just stand him up as it’s all
just too damn scary.  I should even be hungry now.  I feel hungry but food is
the last thing on my mind.  I need Rob’s advice, urgently.  “Rob,” I say, as I
walk back over with the beers.  “What am I supposed to do when I meet him?”  I
sit down and start rummaging about in my blue carrier bag.

“Just be yourself.  Play it cool, but not too cool.  I
know how cold you can be.”  Then he looks at me seriously. “Just relax.  Smile. 
Enjoy it.  If it’s really that bad, just come home.”

“I’m scared.”  I say sticky and mumbling, mouth full
of cola bottles.

“Don’t be scared.  How bad can it be?”

“Exactly.  I don’t know.  Remember I’ve never been on
a date before.  Dumbo!”

“I know... But you’re only going for a drink.  Like I
say, just have one, make your excuses and leave if you hate it.  Or if it’s
really bad, just say you’re going to the toilet and don’t go back.”

“True,” I say, thinking I urgently need another shot.  I’m
still worrying like a wart and when I get back from the bar I say, “What am I
going to wear?”  Rob slams his queue into the white ball, sinking two reds.  He
calls it skill, I call it a fluke.  I keep hoping and wishing he will miss but
after putting me six - two down, I’m staring at him.

“What?”

“…am I going to wear?”  I finish the sentence.  Then I
look back at the table wondering how, or even if, I’m getting back into this
game, all the while waiting for Rob to answer my question.

“Don’t go too mad.”  He finally answers, just as I’m
about to shoot.  I look up at him.

“What do you mean?”  I say angrily after I miss hit
and send balls scattering.

“Don’t wear too much make up.  Dress down.  Like
jeans, a nice top, boots maybe, your nice coat.”

“Nice coat?”  I never knew he was so interested in
clothes.

“Yeah.  First impressions. You’re meeting him outside
so look smart. You don’t want to be wearing one of your scruffy hoodies.  What
about your fur coat?  That’s nice.”

“My fur coat?”  Then I remember my brownish fake fur leather
trimmed jacket.  “Oh. Yeah, that one, I know.  Hopefully it won’t rain else I’ll
end up looking like a wet dog.”  He looks at me smiling, like he’s about to say
something sharp.  I stare at him so he knows to bite his tongue, though his
smile is broad.  “I can read your mind sometimes.”  I take a long drink of my
beer.  Then as I swallow, another wave of nervous terror sweeps over me.  My
stomach does a double flip.  I have a date in a few hours.

“Are you going to stay and watch the game?”  Rob asks.

“Yeah but I need time to get ready.”

“You got time. Stay ‘til it’s finished.  It won’t be
that late.”  I nod my head, heart still pumping.  I think it is a good idea
actually.  Maybe it’s best to watch the football and try to take my mind off
this evening.  I want more drink but Rob shouts, “Hey!  Go easy!” before I’m
even at the bar.  “You don’t want to be pissed before you even get there.”  Then
he shouts over at me, “Get some food, proper food.”  I ask for a menu.

I don’t feel drunk at all now.  Talking to Etienne has
sobered me up like a blast of cold fast air.  I get more beers.  Looking at the
menu, I cannot choose.  Steak and chips, burger and chips, scampi and chips, choice
of Sunday dinners, one boring healthy chicken salad option.  I ask Rob.  He
wants roast beef.  Someone else has ordered scampi and I watch it come out of
the kitchen in a basket and it smells oily, hot and lovely wafting past me, so
I order that.

Just as the football kicks off, people in the now
crowded pub start coming to life.  I shuffle back to the table clutching the
drinks.  I start to watch the game from the comfort of the squishy sofa but it’s
not long before I’m bored.  The play is slow and not a lot seems to happen,
just a lot of passing so I sit and ask Rob what his plans are for tonight.  He
says again, to go round and see Ruby and Marcia at Mrs. Diaz’s place.  “It’s good
you’re seeing them.”  I say, a little bit gutted that I can’t be there.

“I saw Marcia last night.  We went out.  Mrs. D sat
for us.”

“What?” I say, shocked.

“No, nothing like that.  Just to talk.”

“Where did you go?” I say quite taken aback, hurt.

“Just out for something to eat, then we had a few
drinks.  She went home, obviously.  I stayed in the pub.”

“Oh...”  I say, trying not to sound surprised.  I
thought he was staying in.  “Where was Jamie?”

“Never mind him.”

“Seriously, where was Jamie?”

“Seriously!  Don’t ask again.”  He says dangerously
and stares hard into space, like he’s going over something in his thoughts.  I
don’t ask again.

“So, the three of you are staying in tonight?”

“Yeah, I think so, maybe.” he says, quietly, still in
thought.

“Oh,” I say again, still disappointed that I’m not
going to be there. “Maybe I should cancel my date?”  I say eager to free up my
time so I too can spend some time with Ruby.

“No.”  Rob says a bit harshly, then softly adds, “You
need a good night out.  You ain’t going to have any fun with us.  Ruby will be
in bed.  You should go out.”

I know Rob has only my happiness at heart.  Scared as
I am, I do think it will be good for me to go out with someone new and fresh.  A
new soul whose life is a complete unknown.   Who knows, we may be soul mates.  If
I don’t go, I’ll never know.  Even though I’m uneasy about the whole date thing
it’ll be good to just hear his story.  The conversation about him being from
France in itself should be enough to talk about.  The memory of his accent glitters
in my mind like space dust, though it was a little duller on the phone than I remember
and certainly not as strong.  The influence of substance may have altered my
original perception. When I answered the phone, there were no shivers, not like
before.  I’m probably now just numb to all such shivers.

But then I get shaky for real at the thought of
meeting him again.  
What if my legs turn to jelly? What if my tongue gets
tied? What if my brain shuts down? What if I faint? What if we have nothing in
common?  
Actually, that bit doesn’t bother me.  The fact that I fancy the
pants off him does.  It could have physical implications.  I just remember that
he was purely beautiful and stunning to look at.  The whole air he had about
him.  Mysterious.  Poised.  Dazzling.  Gentle.  Not so much as a hint of
aggression. No attitude.  Absolutely no bad vibes.  Though I was pretty messy in
the club.  He could’ve been anyone and I was not myself.  I wonder what he will
make of me sober but if I carry on like this I may soon be drunk.  I watch the
football to try and interrupt my non-stop thoughts but it’s the dumbest,
slowest, most boringest game ever.  It does not help me.  I am not distracted
and I just keep thinking about tonight.  Rob’s no use either.  It’s like he’s
not here and is glued to the game too like most of the people here.  It’s not
even like I can wander about.  It’s too busy and I’d be getting in the way.  There
are even kids sitting on the floor.  No visible walkways.

So I sit and mentally go through my wardrobe options of
what I could wear tonight.  
Dressy.  No.  Casual.  No.  Smart casual.  Ok,
yes.  Trainers.  No.  Builder boots.  No.  Combats.  No.
 I don’t realise
I’m thinking out loud until Rob nudges me and puts a finger to his mouth.  I
think I might have to go home and sort out what I’m going to wear right this
second.  “If you want something to do, go and get me some cigarettes.”  Rob
says when the ball gets kicked into the crowd.

“Ok.”  I say, happy to get my mind out of this chaotic
place it’s stuck in and to take my thoughts elsewhere.  When I stand up
suddenly to leave, the blood rushes fast into my head causing me to sway a
little and feel off balance.

“You ok?”  Rob says.

“Yeah…”

“You’re not pissed already are you?”

“No,” I say and as I start to move forward.  I tread bang
hard on to someone’s foot.  I didn’t see it.  The table was in the way.  “Sorry.”
 I say, but he’s not even listening, eyes glued to the wide-screen like every
other corpse in here, apart from the barmaid who is carefully collecting up
empties as she tiptoes through the crowd.  I help her by picking up ours and
taking them to the bar, but I cannot carry them all.  One falls over with a
clunk as I place them on the bar.  I stand it back up, and then quickly make my
way out.