A Little Rain (5 page)

We sit back at our now empty table and wait for Rob. 
The alcohol has squashed flat any fear of my brother, the Tony connection is
forgotten and I’m getting cosy next to the lovely Jon on the crackled leather
sofa.  So cosy in fact he slips his phone into my hand and asks for my number.  I
feel a bit dizzy and this is quite a fancy phone.  I don’t know what I’m doing
so instead of trying find the address book, I’m just going to call my phone or
I’m going try and call it.  “I’ll call me.”  I say, clumsily tapping the eleven
digits in.  My phone starts ringing. “Jeesh!  This
is
a fancy phone.  I
don’t even need to press call, like the phone at home!”  Then I realise my
phone is actually ringing.  I feel stupid as ever and wish I’d kept my mouth
shut.  Jon is in hysterics.  I try to see the funny side too and laugh along
but then I realise who’s ringing me and it’s not quite so funny.

“Hi, Benny,” I say, and then unexplainably I cough,
like maybe I’m trying to cough out the drunk in me. “Where am I?  Uhh… uhh… I’m
in college still,” thinking too late, the truth is always better and
derrr
it’s evening now.  “What?  Me?  Errr….You want me?  What?”  Then he makes me
feel guilty.  He’s never usually like this.  He starts talking the most
ridiculous love mushy goo I have ever heard, but still, he does not say the ‘S’
word.

“You’re missing me?” I say, flattered, incredulous.  The
mush continues and I can barely pay attention to this rarest of things, as Jon
runs his hand up my arm and across my shoulders.  “Err… I have to call you
back.”  I cut him off and before I even know what’s happening, Jon and I are
kissing. Wow
.
 He is good.  His soft lips bite mine gently.  I’m
floating someplace between heaven and earth and when I close my eyes something
jolts me like an electric shock but different.  Like an invisible train crashing
into me, making me dizzy, pushing us apart.  Before I can even begin to think
about what weirdness just happened Rob is back.

Thank Good God for that
. 
Whatever that was
,
I say in my head.  That was close.  Jon is like nothing has even happened.  “What’s
up?” I say looking at Rob, realising I don’t know a lot about the situation now.
 Rob raises his eyebrows as he looks at me.  He’s seen my drunk eyes, and his
eyes are silently counting the empty half pint glasses on the table.  He’s ok, I
hope.  I don’t think he would think I’d have the nerve to pull his mate or that
his mate would be so stupid but now, I know he’s not going anywhere.

“We’re out tonight.  That’s all that matters for now.”

“But...  Where’ve they gone?”  His silent response
means maybe he doesn’t know or maybe just doesn’t want to say.  I think to make
the best of things and say, “Well, Saturday is still all day, and all night,
and then you’ve got Sunday too.  So that’s good.”  Something is always better
than nothing.  “Did you speak to Marcia or just Mrs. Diaz?”

“Just Mrs D.”  Rob’s says.  I know this probably means
if he has tried speaking to Marcia her phone is probably off or she’s rejected
his call.  She knows how to wind him up.  It’s only the beginning of the
weekend and already she’s made sure it has started badly.  No point dwelling on
the negative.

“So what are we going to do tonight?  It is Friday.”  I
say. “Let’s go out on one!”  Rob almost breaks a smile while he’s busy staring
at nothing and this makes me smile too.  I am enjoying the almost-smiling
silence for a few seconds when Jon starts talking
blah blah
about the
clubs and bars nearby, like I don’t know.  Maybe he thinks I’m a kid.

I say I need to go somewhere to get changed.  I feel
like I’m looking a mess, drink stains and all, plus I need to get ready before we
go out, which could take time, especially now I’m a bit drunk.  Outside it is getting
very dark.  It’s still damp but not raining now.  Streetlights glisten on wet
tarmac as we step outside.  We’re going back to Jon’s place.  It’s not that far
but we’re going to drive.  But first we all have to stop to admire Jon’s car, a
dark grey sporty, flash convertible.  I peer in through the open door to have a
better look.  I misjudge my step and fall forward.  My face hits the passenger seat. 
It feels damp, sticky, and smells of something slightly chlorinated and sweet.  Urghhh! 
I definitely need a shower now.  I clamber back out, deciding definitely to go in
the car with Rob.

We get back to his.  I ask Jon if I can take a shower.
 He says sure and waves me through.  His bathroom is suspiciously clean.  No
man I know keeps a bathroom like this.  It’s sparkling white, like something
out of a bleach advert.  I count the toothbrushes, there are three.  I wonder
if he does have a woman living here.  In our place though, there are about
seven toothbrushes in the pot and only two of us live there and two are Ruby’s.
 I get nosy.  I check the mirrored unit above the sink.  Posh razors, blades,
shaving foam, hair gel, toothpaste and a packet of soaps.  I look by the bath.  A
bottle of green forest fresh shower gel and purple sleep-tight bubble bath that
when I open it, it smells of lavender.  He’s looking maybe single.  I don’t see
giveaway girly shampoo or body scrub or hand cream.  When in the shower, I fill
the bathroom with the smell of fresh forests.  I borrow his razor.  I know
blokes hate that.  I think of it as revenge for playing me earlier. He knew he
was messing with fire and we both could have got burned.  When I’m all but
finished, I shower myself over with cold water.  I do this to sober myself up
as best I can and it works a bit.  I towel dry my hair and scrunch my mousse
into my curls.  I tie it back in a fat plait and start to do my makeup, carefully
this time and thankful I now feel a little less drunk.  The black lines I draw
on my eyelids are almost straight.  I look pretty good I think when I finish slapping
it all on, even in this dazzling white, unflattering light of the windowless
bathroom.

I come out wrapped in a little white towel that feels
rough to touch and barely covers my bum.  Rob and Jon are on the couch smoking a
joint.  It makes my head swim just smelling it.  I look at Jon.  He’s looking
at me goggle-eyed.  “Want a toke?” he says, offering me the spliff.

“Yeah ok,” I say, starting to move towards him.  Rob
gets up and swipes it out of his hand before I’m even close.

“Oi!  You get decent first, you mashup.” Rob shouts,
and I come to my senses and realise I’m wearing just a towel in front of the
guy I was snogging earlier and also my brother.

“Ah… ok, yeah.” I’m blushing now and suddenly feel
more sober still than I did a second ago.  I dash back to the privacy of the
bathroom.  I bolt the door and drop my towel.  
Not bad, not bad
, I think
to myself.  My stomach is looking pretty trim, amazing considering the amount I
eat.  The bruises on my ribcage have toned down now to a dusky pink.  My arms
are still quite purple in patches.  I notice two little indents on either side
of my belly today like the starting of a six-pack, not that I want to start growing
muscles but it gives me confidence definitely, enough to wear something hot
tonight.  I pull out of my bag my hip-hugging, every-occasion, never-need-to-iron,
tight black trousers and to go with these, a dark red itty bitty top with
strategic slashes.  I go over my makeup once more adding a swoosh of silver glitter
to my cheekbones.  One final check and I’m feeling good.

Shoving everything I bought with me, old clothes, mousse
bottle, and make up back in my bag, I go back in to Rob and Jon.  Jon’s got his
eyes shut and his face is crinkled up in giggles.  Rob’s trying to sing.  Jon
is then doing some kind of beat box, except it’s the worst I have ever heard.  It
sounds more like he’s trying to clear something that went down the wrong way,
like a piece of popcorn stuck in his throat.  No wonder they’re laughing.  It
stinks of skunk now.  In fact now I notice it, there’s like a fog hanging above
the whole room, like the morning mist on a field of dew.  Jon’s got his leg
crossed and ankle resting on Rob’s knee and Rob’s looking at Jon like he’s a
chocolate cake.

“Hey!”  I say. “Come on you guys, I’m ready.  Look at you
two layabouts, get yourselves up, come on.”

“We have got plenty of time yet Skit.” Rob says.

“Yeah,” says Jon.  “The club don’t open ‘til 10 and
there’s no point getting there early.  
You should know
.”  He says with
sarcastic undertones I choose to ignore.  I check my phone.  It’s not even 9.

“Ok fine whatever,” I say, shrugging my shoulders,
quietly defeated.  “Let me have some of that... what you’ve got.”

“Help yourself.”  Jon gestures to a white plastic tray
with pictures of fruit on it, on top of a pile of dubious lad and car
magazines.  On it lays a pack of king-size papers, a bag of tobacco and a less
than legal bag of sticky looking green stuff.  I sit cross-legged by the coffee
table bopping my head in time to the beats.  The boys have stopped singing
now.  My spliff rolling efforts seem to have given them something else to laugh
at.  They sound like a pair of deranged hyenas.  Raaa-haaa
-
ha-ha-ha.  They’re
in all new giggle fits at what they call the look of
deep
concentration
on my face, like I’m doing a test, they say.

“It is like a flipping test.”  I’m still not sober and
I’m sure the toxic smoke cloud is having an effect too.  Eventually, I hold it
up for them to see, my king-size creation.

It’s a bit fat and loose in the middle but still, Rob
says, “Give us it here.”

“No chance.  I get first go.”  I say, sparking it up
with a purple lighter from the tray.  “Hmmm… yeah, it good,”  I say, in my best
mock Jamaican taking not quite a lungful but it still makes my eyes water and
throat burn.  I hope they can’t see this.  Both Rob and Jon are each holding out
a hand for me to pass it to them.  “You wait your turns,” I say.

Time disappears like birdsong into the night.  The hours
drift by and we’re ready to go.  The boys are showered and changed.  They look
good.  Jon’s done his hair.  I can smell sticky sweet wax and the rainforest
all over again.  The smell of skunk now is so ingrained in everything I don’t
notice it.  Like any smell fades when you get use to it, well almost any smell.
 I’ve been slumped on the sofa waiting, giggling to myself, watching cartoons on
MTV.  I delay us briefly by trying to get my things together and going to the
toilet.  They tut and make a fuss at me not being ready.  I check everything
again, cigarettes, lighter, chewing gum, money, lip gloss, hair band.  I’m sure
I’ve forgotten something.  I squeak my dissatisfaction as Rob grips my shoulder
with a strong warm hand and marches me out of the door.

When we get outside I say, “You’re having a bubble!”
We’re walking to the club, in November!  It’s not raining right now but God its
cold and I’m only wearing a hoodie.  I thought we’d drive or get a bus or
something, but no.  Rob and Jon seem oblivious.  They walk very fast.  I have
to run to keep up.  I zip my hoodie all the way up and push my hands deep in my
pockets as I trot beside them.  The pavement’s not wide enough for the three of
us.  Sometimes, I end up in the gutter feeling even smaller.  With only
trainers on my feet, they walk like giants next to me.  We don’t walk for that
long as it happens, about ten minutes.  Jon says we are nearly there and I see
a burger van parked up ahead.  I’m about to voice my hunger and make the point that
none of us have really had enough to eat, but it’s like they know what I’m
going to say, and don’t want to hear.  They appear to walk even faster as I’m
stopped still.  The wafting smell of hot fat has glued my feet to the floor,
making plain my intentions.  The road ahead is straight.  I can see where
they’re going.  I head to the van and get chips only.  I don’t have to wait to
be served.  From paying to putting on salt and ketchup takes less than a
minute.

I run slowly and eat at the same time, trying not to
choke on a chip.  I nearly puke when I accidentally eat a green one that tastes
bitter and wrong.  I spit it out in the gutter.  Someone told me they were
poisonous.  I watch them turning a corner up ahead.  I break into a slow sprint
and as I turn the corner too I see the club.  They’re waiting outside for me.  There’s
not much of a queue.  The bass I can hear tickles my eardrums and sounds good.  It
takes my mind off the cold and makes me feel happy.  They won’t let me in with
my chips so Rob, Jon and the doormen take it upon themselves to help me eat
them.  Jon even has to cheek to tell me I should’ve put vinegar on them.

As
we go in, the club is lovely and warm so I take off my hoodie and Rob and Jon
hand me their coats.  They are heavy.  “Thanks babe,” says Rob.  He winks and
smiles.  He has that way.  For him, I’d do anything.  I’ve already seen a
little paper sign pointing to the cloakroom but I act the innocent and ask the
cutie nearby where it is.  He shows me the way.  We chat a little and he seems nice.
 His name is Jaz.  He told me his whole name but I can’t remember it.  I think
he must have silly hippy parents.  I tell him my name.  He says it’s pretty.  I
then say I’m here with my brother, whose name is Rob.  He nods like it’s unexceptional. 
I’m just paying the cloakroom girl three pounds in silver coins and Rob appears
behind me.

“Who’s
this?” he says ever the tactless.

“This
is Jaz.”  I say.  “Jaz this is Rob.”

“Hey,”
Jaz says, “Ella told me about you.”  Rob looks at him, then at me.  His face is
saying,
Told him what
?  Thankfully, he just nods a few times.