Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3) (24 page)

Then he’s gone as I sink to the floor sitting staring at the
nothing which is all that’s left of us.

Amsterdam

1
month later

Bram

I sit on the sofa in my suite staring down at my phone and
pressing the on button, watching the screen repeatedly darken and then lighten
showing the face of the woman that I can’t stop thinking about. It’s a picture
that I took of her at a party and it shows her in the middle of a conversation
with some dick that was trying to get into her knickers. The reason that it’s
on my home screen is that little crinkle in her forehead that she gets when
she’s concentrating super hard to make sure that she understands everything.
That and the look of dainty aggression that she gets quite often, especially
around me, or she used to.

Sighing I activate the messages section and pull up the
stream of ones that I’d sent her. The last one lies there unblinking:

I’m sorry babe. I can’t say it enough. Please ring me or
write back. I need to speak to you

There’s no reply. There hasn’t been since that night.

I reach for my beer and take a sip wincing when I think of
that night. The look on her face, the awful things that I said, and after going
over and over it in my mind, the feeling that I’d got something wrong somewhere
and that if I’d kept my temper and listened to what she was trying to tell me I
might have heard something that I needed to hear.

My eyes feel hot and I press the bottle into my forehead to
try to ease the ache, but then a heavy knock at the door distracts me. My lips
curl up slightly. I know that it’s Seth before I open the door. No way that his
massive hands could
not
make a loud noise, and besides which he’d called
me out on the bus yesterday over the amount of women who’ve come back to my
room on this tour. I’d managed to evade him then but he’s like the clap. Once
you’ve got him he sticks around.

“Coming sweetheart,” I call and opening the door I catch him
in mid sneer. “Oh it’s you darling,” I coo. “Aren’t you worried about
interrupting the various debauched activities going on in Sodom and Gomorrah,
or my hotel room as it’s more commonly called?”

“I knew you were alone,” he drawls as he saunters in. “I
waited for them to change over. They’re like buses, there’s a gap in between
service to allow for cleaning.”

“Ooh that’s very bitchy, Mr Committed Relationship.”

He turns round. “Let’s not mention my life Pip. Let’s stick
to the fucking almighty mess that you’re making of yours.”

I throw myself down on the sofa motioning to the fridge.
“Well let’s hear it then Mother Teresa. You won’t be happy until you’ve
chastised me.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, perching his massive
frame down on the sofa he turns to look at me, his bottle green eyes clear and
all seeing. “I just want to know what’s wrong with you Pip? I know that you
love women but you’ve had so many this tour that the walk of shame the next
morning is starting to become a bit more like a stampede.” I snort and start to
hum the theme to ‘The Lion King’ but it dies in my throat with his next words.
“I thought you were starting something with Alys.”

My throat hurts and I swallow hard. “There’s no point in
starting anything with her. She needs someone that means something.”

“What the
fuck
?” His voice is instantly aggrieved on
my behalf. “
You
mean something.”

I smile twistedly. “Not really mate. I’m like one of those
adverts on the phone boxes – ‘see for a good time’. I’m good for a shag. Fuck
I’m the best.” He shakes his head muttering something about practice but he
stills as I go on. “I’m not heavyweight enough in life for her. You’ve seen
her. She’s clever. Fuck, she’s so bloody clever and she’s so brave. She’s alone
in the world. I don’t think any of us can say that.”

He winces and I remember that ultimately he’s been alone
since his mum died when he was 18. “You have us mate. You always have,” I say
softly and he nods smiling. I sigh and carry on, my voice thick. “She needs
someone like her. Someone clever and committed. Someone heavyweight. I’m just a
bass player and a part time model. You don’t get much more lightweight.”

Seth stares at me astonishment in his eyes and then says
carefully, “You do know that you’re so much more than that don’t you? Bram,
you’re the fucking glue that keeps us together.”

I jerk. “What?”

“Yes, it’s you dimwit. How can someone so intelligent
believe such shit about themselves? The way that you give us the beat with the
music and keep the tune on track, that’s what you do in real life. Bram, we’d
have split up years ago if it wasn’t for you. You read us all so fucking well,
better than anyone. If anyone’s unhappy you’re there and you sort it out. The
jokes and the happy go lucky character you’ve got, well they’ve stopped more
fights than I can count. Pip, we all take you fucking seriously.” He pauses,
staring at me hard. “In fact the only person that doesn’t take you seriously is
you
.”

I look back at him and somehow those honest, blunt words
seem to worm themselves further into my brain than any of the empty compliments
that I receive every day of my life, and I feel something in me relax. He sees
it and some of his tenseness seems to let go too and then he skewers me with
another deep look. “Now tell me what’s happened,” he commands and I do.

We talk for ages and I tell him everything that has happened
since I opened my door to her that early, sunny morning. When I finish he sits
in silence for a minute and then stirs. “But if you feel like this why the hell
are you fucking all these women?”

I stare at the opposite wall because he’s going to rip the
piss out of me when I tell him the truth. “I haven’t actually fucked any of
them.” I say it quickly in the hope that he’ll move on but I know it’s forlorn
before I finish speaking because his voice is filled with startled humour.

“
What?”

“You heard me. I haven’t fucked any of them.”

“But why?”

“Because somehow she’s put a fucking spell on my cock. I
can’t stop thinking about her and I can’t get hard even when they’re naked.”

There’s a long pause at that and I can practically see his
big body vibrating. “But what have you been
doing
with them?”

“Well quite often I just send them away and say that I’m
tired.”

“But why haven’t the tales of your erectile dysfunction hit
the press?”

I turn on him. “I have
not
got erectile dysfunction,”
I say hotly which is enough to send him into paroxysms of mirth. “Oh, laugh it
up you giant twat. I told you it’s
her
. She’s a witch and she’s cursed
my fucking cock.”

He returns to the embarrassing subject like a terrier after
a rat. “But what excuse have you given them?”

I shrug irritably. “Well sometimes I just tell them that I’m
knackered from a threesome that I had earlier, or I take their number and tell
them that I’m trying to learn how to respect women.” He howls with laughter,
scrubbing tears off his face. “It’s not funny mate. I’ve had to come up with a
lot of plausible excuses and I’m telling you I think I’m onto something. They
don’t half come on strong when they think that you don’t want them.”

“That’s not a new thing son. Women have been doing it for
years.”

I stare at him. “That’s awfully cynical of you Seth. Perhaps
we’d be better off talking about your problems.”

“No, let’s go back to talking about these women.” I sigh
heavily but he ignores me. “You’ve not slept with any of them, and they’ve
honestly accepted your pathetic excuses of being tired or your alarming new
character trait of being too respectful of women?”

“Well sometimes if they’ve been really pushy and there have
been more than one then they’ve fucked each other and I’ve pretended to watch
when really all I’ve been doing is thinking of her. I’m telling you it’s been a
hard month.”

“Bram, 90% of men would pay to have your problems.”

I sober abruptly all the laughter draining out of me. “I
just miss her so much.”

“But you still chucked her out of your flat?”

I sigh. “I didn’t chuck her out.” He looks at me. “Well I
did but I didn’t mean to. I was just so fucking hurt by what she said, and I
was so angry at the thought of him touching her and me being away and that
fucking bell end being with her in my fucking home. That’s not bloody right.
She’s not his, she’s …”

“What?”

“Mine,” I finally say softly, closing my eyes.

“Finally. You do know what’s wrong with you don’t you?”

I wag a finger at him. “Don’t you fucking say it Seth. It’s
like saying ‘
Candyman’,
it’ll come true.”

“I’m going to say it Bram because this is it. You’re in love
with her.”

I groan and scrub my hands over my face. “Fuck, I knew it. I
don’t know how it happened. I don’t want to be in love.”

“I know the feeling.” I stare at him because I have a
feeling that he’s not talking about Lucy, but he avoids my eyes and carries on.
“Would it be so bad to be in love?”

I’ve known him so long that I can’t keep up a shield with
him. I hesitate but, “Yes when you love people they let you go.”

“Not everyone,” he says softly. “You love Sid and Matt and
everyone else.”

“I know but it’s her. If
she
lets go of me I don’t
know what I’d do. I can’t bear to even think about it.”

“So avoiding the subject and dancing around, has that made
it go away?”

I slump. “No, it’s just made it worse.”

He pauses. “So basically let me sum your situation up. You
fell in love with a woman and yet you shagged other women, sometimes in front
of her. Then you give into temptation and sleep with her and the next morning
you think that she rejects you.”

“She
did
,” I say hotly but he shakes his head.

“Jury’s out on that mate but knowing Alys and seeing the way
that she is with you I sincerely doubt that she didn’t want something with
you.” I stare at him willing him to say more but he goes back to his dreary
recital. “She stays with you and tries to be your friend and then decides to
move on with another man so you kick her out of your house. Then, to show her,
you decide to take loads of women up to your room. You can’t fuck them but she
and the rest of the world think that you have. Is that it or have I missed
anything?”

I glare at him sulkily. “Well when you say it like that it
makes it sound even worse.” There’s silence for a moment and then I can’t stop
the next question leaving my lips. “I was just so angry and hurt and jealous
and I said some awful things to her that aren’t true. It’s kept me awake at
night thinking about it. Do you think that I can get her back Seth?”

He looks at me searchingly. “Not, if it’s not forever Bram.
She deserves that and so do you. Can you do it?”

I nod. “I think with her I really can Seth. Put it like this
I can’t imagine life without her. A month has been hell. I want her.”

He picks up my beer from my slack fingers and takes a
healthy swig. “Then you’ll have to win her back but you’ll have to be careful
because if you push too hard she’ll think that it’s just a whim brought on by
competition.”

“You mean be subtle?”

He looks at me doubtfully. “Yeah I know it’s not a talent of
yours.” I huff and he smirks. “Just keep in touch. Write to her and tell her
how sorry you are. Ring her if she’ll take your calls. You can’t do much more
at this moment with the tour going on.”

I nod smiling slightly at having a workable plan and a hope
to the end of this fucking horrible misery. “Yes I’ll contact her and wow her
with my friendship, and then when we get back I’ll overwhelm her with shock and
awe.”

“Mate you do know that’s a military description for a
massacre don’t you?”

“He who dares wins as a philosopher once said.”

“That wasn’t a philosopher. I think it was Del Boy from
‘Only Fools and Horses’.”

“Potpourri Rodney. Potpourri.”

Alys

I sit on the bus, morosely flipping the case on my phone
open and shut. The message alert blinks letting me know that he’s sent another
text. I know it’s him. It seems that I now have a second sense where he’s
concerned. I sigh. If I’m being honest it’s all my senses, and they all miss
him: I miss the smell of him, that warm citrus spice; I miss the sound of his
voice with that Irish lilt; I miss feeling his warm skin touching mine when he
wraps his arms around me; and if I’m honest I’ve missed the salty taste of him
since that night a year ago. I sigh again and against my will my finger rises
and I tap the message icon.

Instantly the new message opens. lt lies alongside all the
other entreaties that he’s sent over the last month that I’ve ignored which
begged me to talk to him.

Bram: I miss you so much it hurts

I feel tears well up in my eyes because the hell of it is
that I miss him too, so much. A thousand times a day I turn to tell him
something or look to him when Mick says something outrageous so that I can see
that quirk of his eyebrow and witness his quicksilver mind coming up with a
smart riposte.

I don’t know why I’m hesitating really. At the click of a
finger I could have him back as my friend. I’m not mad with him anymore. I
never really was once I got over my temper and devastation. I know he behaved
like a twat and he did throw me out of the flat, but he’d rung me the next
morning when he’d calmed down begging me to go back and it was me that had
refused to take his calls.

I can understand his temper and the things that he said and
I’m not saying it like some little woman who makes excuses for her man’s
behaviour. I’m saying it because I was just as much at fault as him. I’d
handled the whole thing so badly, said all the wrong words, but I’d just been
so full with the idea that he might care for me, as if I was full of laughing
gas that was lifting me up.