Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3) (25 page)

I don’t think that anymore. Eddie was wrong. He doesn’t love
me and that guts me so much it’s like I’m walking around with an open wound,
but at the end of the day that’s not his fault and it’s not mine either. The
time just wasn’t right for us but maybe it will be right for us to be friends
again because that’s a way I can see him every day, touch him casually and be
in his life and have him in mine.

However, the question and the reason why I haven’t responded
to him after I recovered my wits and temper, is whether it’s enough for me.
Will I be able to play this role when he falls in love and marries? Can I keep
it hidden? Will I be able to fall for anyone else when he’s always front and
centre in my mind and my heart? At the moment I have no answer to these
questions so I’m stuck in this stasis.

The ring of the bell and the doors opening recall me to
myself and I realise that we’re at my stop so hopping off I start the walk back
to my current abode which is Mick and Elen’s house. They’d welcomed me that
night as if there was no question of where I should be, and ever since then
they’ve maintained stoutly that they don’t want me to leave. Mick hasn’t said a
word against Bram and I’m careful to keep his name out of our conversations,
but I don’t think he’d be uncomfortable anyway. He has a healthy knack of not
taking sides. As he put it that first night Bram is his friend and so am I, and
if the twain will never meet then that really isn’t any of his business.

However, he’s kind and in love with my best friend and
they’re still in the first throes of love and living together as a little
family with Daisy, and so my time with them is coming to an end and I’ve
already made tentative motions about going into university housing if a room
comes up.

I sigh as I wander along fidgeting with my short black and
white skirt which has got very loose. The weather is still cold so I’m wearing
black opaque tights underneath it and I’ve teamed it with a black jumper and my
leather jacket and wound a large, saffron yellow scarf around my neck. It
doesn’t make much difference though as I’m still freezing which is maybe
because of all the weight that I’ve lost. My thoughts are interrupted as I pass
a big black car idling at the kerb near Mick’s house, and then I come to a dead
halt as I open their front gate and see Bram sitting on the front step.

He’s hunched over and hasn’t heard me so for a second I have
the precious time to drink in everything about him. He’s dressed in old faded
jeans with a black jumper, and has slung a zip up black hoody and his leather
moto jacket over the top. His long legs are stretched out and his feet clad in
old combat boots are tapping a restless beat. His hair has grown longer,
flopping over his face and reaching his neck, and when his head shoots up and
he goes still looking at me, I can see dark shadows like bruises under his
eyes.

His gaze seems to drink me in and he half smiles anxiously
before rising to his feet in a graceful movement that’s so typical of him. He
hovers for a second obviously unsure of his welcome and I send my gaze over him
greedily drinking him in.

My words shoots out of my mouth without thought. “You’ve
lost weight.”

He looks startled for a second and then a ghost of a smile
crosses his mouth. “I haven’t been hungry,” he mutters and carries on staring
at me. He frowns. “You have too.” He looks simultaneously angry and hopeful as
if he welcomes that I might have missed him while hating it. I know the
feeling.

We stand for what seems like forever just staring at each
other and he seems nervous with a visible tremor running through his body.
Finally he stirs. “I had to come,” he says clearly. “I couldn’t wait any
longer.”

“Why?”

He looks startled as if that had never occurred to him and
then shrugs. “I just had to. You’re very necessary to me.”

I wonder what that means but I don’t dare to ask because
I’ve had enough of getting my hopes up.

He sags a little at my silence but then stares at me,
visibly steeling himself for my response and I automatically tense. “I said
some fucking awful things to you babe but you’ve got to know that I didn’t mean
a word of them. I could punch myself in the throat every time I think about
what I said.” He pauses and swallows hard. “I wrote and wrote and rang you so
many times. Does that mean that you don’t want to see me anymore Alys, because
you only have to say the word and I’ll go and you won’t have to speak to me
again?”

“Really?” I ask in a choked voice and a shadow of his old
self-deprecating expression crosses his face.

“Not really
a ghrá,
no. I’ll still keep coming babe.”
He pauses. “I don’t think that I could stop. I was going mad over there. I
can’t concentrate knowing that you hate me. It cuts me somewhere deep that you
could feel like that about me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I say fiercely. “I could
never
hate you.”

Hope shines painfully in his face. “So you can still be my
friend Al? You’ll talk to me again?”

I raise my hands and his painful stream of words stop. “The
things that you said,” I start and he winces. “They were so awful and then to
throw me out of your flat for talking to another man. That’s so fucking
hypocritical of you with your constant stream of women that I just don’t have
the words.”

He sighs. “It wasn’t you talking to him, it was how you
looked when you got back.”

“And how was that?”

“Like you’d been in bed together, and I don’t know what
happened but I just lost my mind and opened my mouth and let this shit out that
had no business being anywhere near you.”

“You said I was a charity case.”

His head shoots up. “I fucking
lied
. I can’t even
believe I said that but it’s not true. If anything
I’m
the fucking
charity case.”

“
What
?”

“I’m reliant on you Alys in a way that I’ve never been
reliant on anyone. I need you too much and I always knew that one day you’d
leave me and I’d be alone again because you’re too good to stay. It’s just that
when I thought it was happening I was … blindsided.” He looks up. “I’m a shitty
friend Alys but will you take a chance with me again?”

I feel winded and at a loss because this is the question
that’s been bugging me for weeks. Can I just be friends with him even though I
love him? The answer eluded me before but now that I’m near him and can see and
smell him again the reality is that of course I can because he’s as natural as
breathing to me.

“I’ll always be your friend Bram,” I finally say. “No matter
what happens that will always be a fact.”

Almost before I can finish speaking he steps forward and
grabs me into his arms, hugging me tightly and shuddering somehow as if his
whole body has relaxed its tension. I inhale sharply feeling the warmth and
strength in his lean body and smelling the sharp leather smell of his jacket.
After an eternity he pulls back slightly, looking at my face as if it’s some
precious artefact.

The shadow has gone and his face is full of light and warmth
again as though it’s come back to life and I find it hard to believe that I’ve
had a hand in that. My decision seems reinforced because I do matter to him,
not the way that I want but life isn’t always fair and we should keep our
blessings when we get them, and this man is a blessing to me with his warmth
and humour and the way that he gets me in a way that few ever have. I’m
interrupted in my thoughts when he laughs joyously.

“Thank God Al. I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry”

I hug him. “I’ve missed you too.”

He shoots me an arch look. “So much that you couldn’t see or
hear my messages I suspect. Well, it’s understandable I suppose. I’d miss me if
I didn’t see me.”

“What?”

“Well I texted you and rang you but you apparently were
blind and deaf to everything but grief.” I laugh and smack him but he hasn’t
finished. “Unless,” he says slowly. “That stone age equipment that you call
your lap top has malfunctioned.”

“It hasn’t, don’t be silly.” I smile helplessly, charmed as
ever by him but he smirks looking very pleased with himself.

“I prefer the malfunction, Al. It makes
that
easier
to give you.”

I follow his nod to a large, brightly wrapped box sitting by
the step. “What is that?” I ask slowly and he laughs and gives me a gentle
push.

“Go and find out dummy.”

I approach it like I would a box containing a psychotic
clown. He’s spent money on me, I just know it. I don’t like him to do that and
he knows it. Crouching down I slowly unwrap the bright paper inhaling sharply
as the paper falls away revealing two big boxes and some smaller parcels. I run
my fingers along the biggest box. “MacBook Air,” I groan. “Oh Bram what have
you done?”

He laughs excitedly like a small boy at Christmas. “It lasts
for up to 12 hours between charges so that’ll be fantastic for you at
university and for the night time when you’ll obviously be writing to me.” He
taps the other box. “That’s an iPad Pro. I thought you could do with something
portable as well, and if you look in the other parcels there’s a cover for the
iPad and a case for the MacBook.” He hands me a big parcel wrapped in
Selfridge’s paper. “I bought you a new rucksack as well for university. I’m
utterly sick of seeing that old piece of shit that you use and I saw this one
by Stella McCartney which is much more you.”

I look up and shake my head slowly at him. “Bram how much
have you spent on me? It’s too much. There’s no need to do this.”

He shakes his head. “I did have a need Al. I wanted to get
these things for you more than I’ve wanted to buy anything in ages. I make my
money and I get to choose what I spend it on, and Alys it pleases me to spoil
you. You need spoiling and it’s a sad thing that no one has before me but I’m
here now. I like doing it and it’s a pretty fool that comes between me and my
need to spend money on you, and you may be pretty Al but you’re not a fool.”

“I’m still worried by this Bram. I feel like you felt that
you had to buy my forgiveness in some way, and you know that you never have to
do that.”

He shakes his head wryly. “I know that I can’t buy you,
love. You are the one thing in my life that I value the most and have done the
least to deserve, but I know that money isn’t what gets to the heart of you.”
He looks at me seriously, no trace of a smile now on his earnest face. “Please
Al, I’m going to make this right. Just trust me.”

I stare at him. “Okay,” I finally say and he steps forward
drawing me back into his arms.

Pulling his face back he stares into mine. “You’ll read what
I send you?” I nod and his eyes narrow. “And reply?”

I smile and nod again and he exhales in relief and then
looks nervous. “Okay, one more favour.” I look at him expectantly. “Please
don’t see Eddie or anyone else while I’m away. None of those blokes that drool
when you walk by.”

“For a start Bram, men don’t drool over me.” He raises his
eyebrow superciliously so I hurry on. “Secondly you’ve not exactly been living
like a monk so why …?”

He grabs my chin that I’ve lowered as I stare at his chest
unable to look at his face. “There’s been no one since you left,” he says
making sure that I’ve heard him properly. He hesitates, looking embarrassed.
“To be honest and I’m not proud of this, the women that I’ve had since that
night of you and me have just been a way to get over you.” He sighs looking
over my head and says something.

“What?”

He looks back at me deliberately. “When I fucked them I
thought of you. I pretended that they were you.”

I gasp. “And the women on tour?”

“I haven’t touched them.” He takes a deep breath. “I swear
to you
a ghrá
on everything that I value, and by the way that’s you, I
haven’t slept with
anyone
.”

I don’t know what to think because this doesn’t sound like
something friends say to one another. I don’t know what he’s thinking and
that’s an alien concept to me. Does he want me for good or for a while? I’m
afraid to get my hopes up again and I’m so confused.

My thoughts are interrupted as the car that’s been idling at
the kerb all this time toots its horn. Bram looks at his watch and sighs.
“Shit, I’ve got to go. The plane will have refuelled and we’ll miss our take off
time if I’m late.”

“But Bram surely you didn’t come back just to see me?” I
gasp. “Oh my God this hasn’t interrupted the tour has it?”

He smiles. “I’d travel a lot further for less time with you
love. I’d also happily interrupt this fucking tour that’s keeping me from you,
but no it’s a rest day today. The others are out and about in Amsterdam.” He
pulls me to him again pressing his lips to my forehead and inhaling as if
smelling my hair. He holds me tightly as if I’m going to escape. “Please read
the emails and reply,” he whispers into my good ear. “And be my good girl
yeah?”

And then he’s gone and I’m left with the scent of him on me
and a box with some very expensive electronic equipment.

The emails start that night.

From: Bram O’Connell

To: Alys O’Neill

Subject: Start of a LONG Correspondence

Alys

I can’t tell you how good it was to see you today and to
know that we’re talking again. On the flight back I could smell your perfume on
my clothes and it made me feel calm. I’ve missed you so much these last few
weeks that just knowing you’re on the end of the phone or a text makes me
happy.

Will you try to write to me every day? I know that you’re
busy and tired but just hearing from you lifts my day and I hope that my writing
does the same to you.

I think if we can’t see each other like we used to then
maybe in this time apart we could get to know each other better. So how about
we tell each other a fact about ourselves every time we write? However, it
can’t be boring stuff - it has to be something that is personal, that no one
knows, a secret between the two of us.

So, in the spirit of honesty I’m going to tell you how I
lost my virginity. The story is that it was with a girl in my class that I was
going out with, but that’s just an urban myth! The truth is that I was 15 and
she was a 32 year old neighbour of my aunt and uncle whose husband worked on
the oil rigs. That sounds like a plot for a porno but the reality is a lot more
hum drum, in that it was over so quickly that if she’d had a stop watch she
wouldn’t even have had time to switch it on. In my defence she was really hot
and I got better at it until the night that her husband came home unexpectedly
and I had to climb naked out of her bedroom window.

I’m actually now thinking that this subject might backfire
on me because the mere thought of some bloke sticking his cock in you makes me
want to do violence, so when you write back tell me something else that’s
personal.

In the spirit of my newly uncovered jealousy please pay
attention to your song from me. The lyrics are apt.

Write back and tell me your news.
All
of your news! I
know that you’ll be thinking
is this boring
for him to read?
Simple answer – no, not if it’s you that’s doing the telling.

Also, try to eat some food. You looked too thin today. I
want to see you healthy when I come home.

Bram

Your song from me is
:
‘She Don’t Let Nobody’ by
Chaka Demus & Pliers

From: Alys O’Neill

To: Bram O’Connell

Subject: Doing My Bit

Bram

I missed you too - so much, and if I didn’t say it yesterday
I was
so
glad to see you.

Thank you for sharing your lovely virginity story. The
emotion and sentiment brought tears to my eyes! I don’t know why you wouldn’t
want to hear about who I lost my virginity to when it was you!

Ha! Only joking and wondering if you had a fit at the last
sentence. If I can’t tell you my virginity story how about our worst fears?
Mine are:

Spiders
- I hate hearing their tiny feet pattering on
the ceiling

Enclosed spaces
– obviously!

People’s feet
- I seriously hate them and I can’t
even stand to touch them. I think it’s the toe nails!

Interesting song choice - cheeky and yet so very you! The
only trouble is that I’m unsure where you’re going with this thing between us.
Do you not want me and yet don’t want anyone else to have me, or do you
actually want something more? I just can’t tell anymore but in the spirit of
our agreement your song is below.

My appetite is back again you will be relieved to hear, but
if you can ask me to eat then I can ask you to do the same, and also to be
careful. When you’re drunk you get very lippy and have no concept of personal
safety.

Alys

Your song from me is
:
‘Be My Baby’ by Vanessa
Paradis

From: Bram O’Connell

To: Alys O’Neill

Subject: Spider Concerns

Alys

Thank you for that virginity shock. You’ll be glad to know
that I had just taken a mouthful of beer and I spat it out over my laptop. Now
the keys are very sticky (or more than normal)

That is a very interesting list of fears. I did not know
that London had been infested with mutant spiders whose feet had grown to
elephant size. My fears are:

Clowns
– I’ve hated those fuckers since Charlie made
Sid and I watch ‘It’. It’s the dead looking face and the big shoes. Maybe the
clowns are borrowing them from your spiders!

Asking directions
– I detest this, not because I’m
macho, but because I can’t process fucking directions. I’ll get to ‘
take
your first turn left’
and then all I hear is blah blah blah!

Not being enough for somebody
– bit of a downshift in
mood but this is my biggest fear. I hate the thought of letting somebody down
or not being able to give them what they need. It’s one of the reasons that I
have stayed single for so long.

I would very much like to discuss where I see us going but I
don’t think that you’re ready for that conversation yet, and I also really
don’t want to have this discussion in an email. Please trust me and let
me
for once lead
you
a little and make things better. In this spirit please
see your song choice.

I am being very careful now. Today I made Matty walk on the
road side of the pavement and go before me down the stairs. He has taken to
calling me Princess Diana.

Write back soon

Bram

Your song from me is: ‘Could It Be Forever?’ by David
Cassidy

From: Alys O’Neill

To: Bram O’Connell

Subject: Night Work and Sexual Health (I knew that would
get your attention)

Your Royal Highness

I have just started doing nights again with my mentor so you
might get my replies at odd times. I’m writing this in the early hours in the
staffroom while I mainline coffee. I’m at St Barts Hospital in Smithfield for
the first time. It’s huge and a little scary to start work at somewhere like
this but Elen is on the same posting.

Did I tell you that I’m thinking of specialising in neonatal
intensive care? It’s the section of nursing that I love best so far. It’s hard
and intense but makes you feel so involved. I like the idea of being helpful,
not only to the children but also to the families concerned.

Barts also has a centre for sexual health conditions so I’ll
know where to point you when you get home – only kidding!

Hmm, we’ve covered fears. I’m not sure how you can fear
letting people down Bram because you’re so attuned to people’s emotions and you
really care. And if you do let them down then so what! We all let people down
at times. We’re human and it’s how we say sorry that counts.

On a lighter note what about our favourite things? Mine are:

Getting into a bed with clean sheets when you’re really
tired
– it’s that feeling of aah when you slide in and the sheets are all
crisp and cold. You can tell that I’m on nights eh? I’m already thinking about
bed!

The beach on a windy, wild day
– it has to be wild.
There’s just something about the wind blowing my hair back and seeing the waves
crash onto the beach that makes me feel alive.

You
– it sounds schmaltzy but I’m happiest when I’m
with you.

I take your previous song choice and raise you mine. See
below.

Yours yawning

Alys

Your song from me is: ‘I Second That Emotion’ by Diana
Ross and the Supremes with The Temptations

From: Bram O’Connell

To: Alys O’Neill

Subject: Concerns That May Need Money to Fix (yeah that
got your attention too)

Alys

Wow St Barts – isn’t it kind of rough around there and what
time of the night are you finishing? Worried minds want to know!

Neonatal intensive care eh? I think you’ll be amazing at
that because you have a very warm, caring air about you, but I might be biased
because I think that you’ll be an amazing nurse regardless of what you
specialise in.

Thank you for the concern about my sexual health but please
dismiss your fears. I have been celibate since the night that I made you leave.
If there’s anything to be worried about it would be my balls exploding from the
huge back up of sperm.

I like your favourite things - particularly number three. My
favourite things are:

The smell of fresh bread and coffee
– it never fails
to make me happy and reminds me of being little and at home. My Ma’s kitchen
always smelt of these things in the morning and I remember eating a bowl of hot
porridge with golden syrup and watching her bustle about. It made me feel safe
and warm like we were in our own little bubble.

Making people laugh
– I love this feeling and
everyone has different laughs. Charlie’s is a cool laugh but he looks cool
doing everything. Sid’s laugh is a silent one where his cheeks crease and his
whole body vibrates. Matty laughs with his whole body, and Seth has a deep,
booming chuckle that seems to come from deep in his chest. My favourite laugh
however is yours. Your whole face lights up and I see the laugh start in your
eyes and then this throaty sound comes out that makes me smile and my spine
tingle.