Live to Tell (5 page)

And so another minor miracle occurred. I told Mum and Dad that I would be moving into an apartment with a person called Ada and they assumed the rest. Mum was a bit worried about me but pleased that I’d made a new friend. The day Dad moved my things in, Aidan disappeared for several hours and by the time he got home again I was alone, enjoying my new found freedom.

“What house rules do you have,” I called out, as he came in the door. “Cup of tea?”

“Wow, thanks. That would be great.”

A minute later, I carried the mugs through to the main room and found Aidan crawling about on his hands and knees.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was just setting up the video, getting ready to watch
Key
Largo
. It’s a film, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall. But if you don’t want it on, I can always watch it in my own room. I’ve got a TV set in there. I don’t mind honest.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I can always read if I don’t want to see it.”

“I had a bit of a clean up because your
da
was coming round but I’m not really into rosters and suchlike. There are no house rules here at all. I don’t have any overnighters but if you wanted to it’s okay, as long as they don’t take over.”

I smiled at him but felt suddenly depressed. “I’m not planning on having anyone to stay,” I said.

We clinked mugs and he said, “Well, here’s to us then.”

I had been with Aidan in the Maida Vale apartment for just under a week and it was our first Saturday morning together. Living here was going to take most of my resources and I decided to go to a jumble sale in West Hampstead to fill the gaps in my depleted wardrobe. To this end I was in my bedroom getting ready to go out.

“You’ve got a visitor Hon,” Aidan called out to me and I heard him bolt into his bedroom, banging the door behind him.

At his words, my heart leapt. Joe must have come back and somehow tracked me down. It was over two months since I said goodbye to him at St. Pancras station, and I still thought about him every day. His arrival would also account for Aidan’s sudden strange behaviour.

I ran into the hall but instead of Joe, Aunt Jess stood there and my face fell. “Oh,” I said.

“Well, don’t look so happy to see me. Can I come in?”

It was with mixed emotions that I tried to smile and make her welcome, disappointment that she was not the man of my dreams; fear that she would discover my deception; and guilt that I had not seemed happier to see her. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek.

“Of course you can. You just gave me a surprise. I didn’t know you were coming. Aidan,” I shouted. “Please come and meet my Aunt Jess.”

“Aidan?”

“Er, he’s my housemate. Aidan!” I bawled his name and he re-appeared looking a little sheepish

“Hello,” he said, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you. Would you like a cup of coffee? I’ll put the kettle on.” He disappeared into the kitchen, which neither of us had cleaned since I arrived and where last night’s takeaway lingered on the work-top.

“So, you are living here with Aidan, a name that’s new to me.” She opened her eyes wide and pursed her lips.

“I’m his lodger, not his girlfriend. I have my own room. Look.”

I opened the door to my room and Aunt Jess recoiled in horror. I wished I had made the bed and tidied up a bit, for makeup pots and art work accoutrements littered every surface. Aidan came back with a tray with three mugs of coffee on it and a bowl of sugar and said, “I’ll show you my room too, if you like. It’s opposite hers but the carpet between the two was worn already from old age. It’s had no extra wear since she got here.” He gave her an angelic look.

She patted his arm. “I’m sure it was, Dear, and thank you for the offer but it won’t be necessary. One shock a day,” she said eyeing the open door to my room, “is quite enough.”

Carrying the tray, Aidan led us to a coffee table that was positioned in front of a large curved window bathed in sunlight. Jess sat down beside it on a rocking chair.

“So, as I was passing I thought I’d pop by and say hello. I must say, it is rather nice here,” she said, looking out. “What a view they must have from the top floor. I wonder how much they are worth?”

Taking a mouthful of coffee, I wondered where she could have been popping to that would take her along the main A5 road into the heart of London’s west end at Marble Arch. Aidan and I exchanged worried looks.

“Check me out, you mean.”

“Your father said it was a very nice flat and being a nosy body I wanted to have a look, that’s all.”

“Well, you’re very welcome Mrs, er…” Aidan chipped in.

“Miss, dear, or Ms, if you must. Miss Heeson. And thank you.”

She only stayed with us for half an hour, just long enough it seemed to prevent my going to the sale, but as she was leaving she held me close. “It is a decent place. I was a bit worried in case it was awful but do keep it clean, especially before your dad makes his next visit,” she said sternly. “Otherwise he’ll insist you go home! He wouldn’t like you living in squalor.”

With these cheery words ringing in my ears, I waved goodbye and closed the door.

“I’ve rented
Casablanca
for tonight,” Aidan called out, from the kitchen.

“That’s fabulous,” I enthused. “It’s one of my favourites of all time.” I ran in and gave him a hug, secretly delighted that Aunt Jess appeared to approve of my new home.

“Brilliant,” he said. “I thought it would be.”

So Aidan and I joined forces, happily muddling along together and Joe moved further and further into the deeper recesses of my thoughts. My life felt perfect. I loved being at Art College, I loved Aidan, and I loved the freedom that living with him gave me. Being in Maida Vale meant I could examine in more detail the roads around Warwick Avenue, and I spent so much time looking up at roofs, it’s a wonder I didn’t fall over.

When it came to architecture, Aidan was a sucker for Art Deco but I was a Georgian, through and through. I could not but be amazed at the precision of the stone cutters, the sharp angles and hard edges of the line and the sheer beauty of the design still so apparent, even today.

Because of the imposing architecture around us I began to wonder if the district was built at the same time as the roads around Regents Park. It was bounded to the south by the Regents Canal and should have been obvious, but it took me a few weeks to make the connection. Broad, curved avenues interspersed with circuses and mews spread in swathes across the whole area in the Georgian style, but I discovered most were built much later during the reign of Victoria.

Christmas came and went, its celebrations now over and New Year ones approaching. We both spent Christmas at home with our families, Aidan making the long journey to Ireland to see his parents.

When I returned to the apartment after the holiday I was surprised to see Aidan was already back. I found him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, and was shocked to see he was crying. Trying to console him, I placed my arm around his neck.

“Whatever’s wrong,” I asked. “Did you have a bad time at home? Was it your mum?” I stroked his face.

“No, it’s this lot. When I got back the doormat was littered with bills, some of them final demands. I can’t manage. I’ll have to give the flat up and go home to Ireland. I’ll have to tell my mum I’m a failure.” He sniffed hard and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

Horror gripped me. I could not imagine life without Aidan. I had been so happy with him and our arrangement. Life was peaceful and pleasant, and the last thing I needed was more upheaval, or worse, having to also go home. I hugged him to me.

“I’ll get a job,” I said. “I can work in the evenings. And accounts. I’ll look at them. My dad’s an accountant or a bookkeeper or something. He’s shown me what to do. We’ll be all right, you’ll see. I’ll take care of things.”

“No, that’s not fair. And what about your course? You won’t be able to do well in your exams if you can’t complete your projects at night. It’s my fault we’re in this shit. I must be the one to get us out.” He nodded vehemently.

“And what are you going to do? Become a rent boy?”

As soon as I uttered the words I could have bitten out my tongue, but instead of being mortified a look of revelation passed over Aidan’s face and he beamed.

“No,” I said. “It’s a terrible idea, seriously. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

“No, but there is a solution. Rent! We’ll take another lodger!”

“How can we? Where would they sleep?” I didn’t fancy having another female around, which seemed the only option Aidan would consider.

“There’s the small bedroom.”

“But it’s
minute
! No one would pay to live there unless they were desperate.”

“Exactly.
I
am, so I’ll take the small room and someone else can have mine. I’ve made up my mind.”

“Then I’ll take over running the debts,” I said, “so stop worrying.”

I sat down with him at the kitchen table and picked up the pile of envelopes. The contents were not nearly as bad as he led me to expect. I was sure that with a little judicious juggling, and a bit of help from Dad, I could get it sorted.

“They won’t cut off the gas,” I said. “They need a court order for that, so that bill can go to the bottom. Look, it’s New Years Eve. I was given some money for Christmas. Let me take you out. There’s an Irish folk band playing at the Gladstone pub. You know you’d enjoy that. Shall we go?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t like that pub. Bad things happen there. I’ll make a cup of tea.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, tea? It’s New Year’s Eve. What can happen?”

I coaxed my reluctant flat mate and persuaded him that not going would be a wimpish thing and that no harm could befall two, innocent music lovers, such as us.

“Okay,” he said. But he kept muttering to himself.

The pub was already crowded before we arrived and we had a job to get in. We managed to squeeze ourselves into a corner and I went for some drinks. Although I’m no expert in Irish folk music, I thought the band sounded reasonable enough. It certainly had plenty of verve and I found myself bouncing happily along to the tunes.

In our hard won spot we nursed our drinks and Aidan seemed to relax a little. Then something scraped past my ear and a grease encrusted cap was thrust in my face.

“Have you got something for the boys,” a voice with a thick Irish accent whispered.

“What do you mean,” I said. “What boys?”

“Tell her Sonny Jim,” the man said to Aidan. “What can
you
spare?”

“I’m a bit short, right now,” he replied.

The man gripped Aidan’s throat.

“Hey,” I shouted. “Let go of him.”

The man turned and thrust his face into mine.

“Fuck off girlie. This is men’s talk.”

I could smell the whiskey on his rank breath.

“How dare you. Leave us alone.”

I tried to intercede but he pushed me roughly away. I shoved him in the chest and he lurched against a table laden with drinks where one of his companions was also trying to “collect” for the boys. An almost full pint of beer juddered sideways and fell over drenching the man sitting opposite them. In the dark, smoke-laden atmosphere, the victim stood up and lunged at my assailant grabbing his collar.

Aidan whispered in my ear but above the din I couldn’t hear him.

“What?”

“There’s an emergency exit by the gents,” he shouted. “Go now. Go on.”

I ran out, dodging the flying fists and managed to force open the door. Some emergency exit, I thought. We’d all be dead in a stampede. Outside in a rubbish-strewn alley I looked around, not sure of the best way to go. Aidan stumbled out behind me and pushed me hard across the shoulders.

“Run!”

I wasn’t the fittest person around, but fear is a terrific spur and I ran like hell. Out onto the well lit main road we charged clutching our coats around us, and ran together, for a couple of hundred yards.

“Stop,” I panted. “Just stop, I can’t keep this up.” I caught hold of his arm. Although we were in the middle of a cold winter I was dying of heat.

“We must keep going, get as far from here as possible,” he urged. “You don’t know these people, what they can do.”