Trust Me (Beggar's Choice #2) (18 page)

He looks at me in amazement and
I’m relieved to see that the confusion and worry that has been in his face
since Mabe announced the pregnancy is starting to clear. “Charlie we lived in a
house of violence but we weren’t part of it. That was dad. He is not me and
he’s not you either. We’re our own people. We are what we’ve made of ourselves
and what you’ve been doing is letting him win. Anyway, I know that you’ll be a
good dad.”

“How?”

“Because you practically raised
me, and despite intense provocation you have never once lost your temper and
hurt me. Anyway this kid will be part Mabe. No way in hell you’d hurt anything
of hers.”

He reaches out and draws me into
a tight hug. “Thank you Sid,” he whispers and for a second I relish the fact
that I, Sid, have solved one of Charlie’s problems. It’s a euphoric feeling
after years of being the one that shit while he swept it up. He punches me on
the shoulder and we separate and then he gets up and stretches, looking
suddenly younger. “Well mate I actually have a woman so I’d best be off to
her.” I smile and he turns to go but then turns back again. “What about you and
Nell?” he asks and I groan.

“Fuck knows Charlie, because I
don’t.”

“It’s actually very ironic. All
those years you were a ‘one man, skank’. Sorry, ‘one man, woman’, and we prayed
for you to fuck around on her. Now you’ve actually found a woman that we all
love and you’re fucking her about.”

I wince. “I don’t want to hurt
her, that’s the problem. If she’d been anyone else I’d have fucked her weeks
ago and got her out of my system. She’s just different and I don’t know why.”

He studies me intently and for a
second he looks like he wants to say something, but then he seems to have
second thoughts and shrugs. “You want her and she wants you. God knows why but
I suppose we must just thank the lord for throwing a mentally defective young
woman at you, rather than questioning your luck.”

I cover my eyes and laugh. “Fuck
off!” I shout to the ceiling and he laughs.

“I’m going.” He pauses. “I want
you to know that I’m really struggling at the moment. I really,
really
want to warn you not to fuck this up because that woman is made for you. I
really
want to tell you not to push her away. I
really
want to tell you that
you’re worthy of her and that it’s not frightening to fall in love. It’s the
best thing ever. I
really
want to do that.”

“I appreciate your restraint
Charlie. Not to tell me all those things must have taken a herculean amount of
strength,” I say wryly and he laughs, punching me lightly on my shoulder again.

“I’m glad you see the effort.
Hopefully you’ll take note of my many unspoken thoughts.” Then he’s gone,
pacing lightly up the steps and I’m alone again and I know it can’t be real but
I swear I can still smell Nell’s perfume on me. I exhale weakly and roll my
head against the back of the sofa. “Fuck!”

The next few days fly by to my
surprise, and before I know it we’re heading into Amsterdam which excites me
because I’ve never been here before. We’re playing in an old theatre in the
centre but tomorrow we have that rarest of things – a day off.

It’s late evening when I shut the
lid of the Mac after checking my emails and dealing with mum’s latest request
for money, which as per normal didn’t come with any sort of enquiry as to how I
am and what’s happening in my life. I sit for a second breathing steadily until
the hurt feeling goes away, and then I get up and stretch before making my way
over to the living area where the boys are stretched out and lounging around.

Living with them on the bus has
been surprisingly easy. They’re all very laidback and they treat me as if I
were a little sister. Well, all of them apart from Sid, but that’s a different
story. As if catching my thought blue eyes lock onto me as I walk towards them.
He’s sitting with a bulging file of papers which Scott delivered a few hours
ago. I think they’re receipts or something but he’s been absorbed in them for a
few hours. However, his concentration is most definitely on me now as I saunter
towards him, and a sexy smile plays on his lips which I’ve got to admit just
makes me want to jump him.

We’ve spent a lot of time
together over the last few days, sitting chatting or running together,
sometimes with Charlie and other times on our own. When we’re in restaurants he
sits close to me and he touches me a lot, but that’s it. Apart from these odd
touches which always seem to be beyond his control to stop as he usually looks
irritated with himself when it happens, he’s been the epitome of control. He’s
waiting for me to snap and I have to say that I think it’s coming soon.

I know so much more about him now
than I did before. It’s trivial stuff like his favourite band is Pink Floyd,
his favourite colour is blue, he loves bacon sandwiches and has an irrational
hatred of personalised number plates. However, it’s joining the dots around
him, and being with him and seeing his humour and his kindness, even his odd
sexy bad mood, makes me want him more than I did before. The others have
definitely noticed but they’ve ignored it apart from a few smiles. I think they
approve but to my relief they act as if nothing is happening.

I drop into the seat next to him
and he obligingly shoves the papers onto the floor. Wolf Alice’s ‘Giant Peach’
is playing on the stereo, and looking around I see Seth and Bram lying on the
floor playing against each other on the X Box. Adam is tapping away on his
laptop and Charlie is reading a battered copy of ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ which
Mabe had picked up at a service station a few days ago. “Picking up some tips?”
I say to him lightly and he snorts.

“I don’t need to be given ideas.
I’m the King of the Bedroom.”

Mabe sniggers from where she’s
rifling through a drawer under one of the settees. “I don’t think so,” she
says. “When I asked you to tell me what to do in the bedroom a few months ago
you said that the surfaces needed a good dusting and could I do a load of
washing.” A roar of laughter greets this and Charlie huffs indignantly,
swatting her lightly on the backside.

“It was a joke and you know it.
If I wanted to boss you around I would. You’d make a shit submissive anyway - I
can’t even get what I want for dinner.” Bram sits back laughing his head off
and I smile before becoming aware that Sid is studying me intently. He reaches
out and draws a long finger down my arm smirking as goose bumps rise up at his
touch.

“Have you ever been to
Amsterdam?” he asks.

“No never, have you?”

“Lots of times yes, but usually
when stoned. I’m looking forward to seeing it with you fresh.”

Overhearing the word Amsterdam
Bram sits up. “What’s everyone doing tomorrow?” he asks excitedly.

“You look like a little kid,”
Seth scoffs.

“Dude we’ve been on this bus for far
too long. If I don’t get inside a woman soon my hand is going to fall off.”

Everyone groans and I throw a
cushion at him. “Information overload!”

“What?” he says indignantly.
“It’s true. There are
no
available women around. The groupies are
dangerously vague about how old they are, and I’m too young and pretty for a
prison sentence. Mabe and Nell are taken.”

“I’m not,” I say flushing but
it’s overridden by Sid.

“You bet she’s taken, fucker,”
and I blush harder. Bram looks vastly entertained by this and quite prepared to
settle in for a bit of winding Sid up, but Seth kicks his foot and shakes his
head and with a huff he settles back.

Seth meanwhile stares hard at
Bram. “What’s with you and all the women lately anyway?”

Bram looks confused. “What do you
mean?”

“Well, regardless of your
proclamation of enforced celibacy, I don’t think that I’ve ever seen so many
women passing through your hotel room as on this tour.”

“What the fuck Mother Superior?
Have you been keeping count or something?”

“Yes.”

“
What
?
Why
? We’ve
toured together for years, and you have actually met me before haven’t you? I
like women and lots of them.”

Seth exchanges a complicated look
with Sid that Bram misses. “It just seems a bit like overkill at the moment
mate, like there’s something else going on with you.”

Bram swallows hard and for a
second something that looks like a cloud passes over his face, but then he
rallies. “Apart from pussy, the subject of which is obviously upsetting Sister
Seth, I think I’ll get another tattoo,” he shares.

Seth sighs and gives up for the
moment, but I can’t help thinking that he’s right. There is something the
matter with Bram. Underneath his ready humour I’ve seen many flashes of
something darker, and he does seem to be fucking his way through Europe steadfastly,
but with very little sign of enjoyment. However, he’s obviously not ready to
share anything so to break the silence I lean forward. “What are you going to
get?”

“Don’t know. I might get
something to represent the tour. Have you got any?”

“No. I’ve always wanted one
though.”

“Come with me then. The bloke who
does mine is brilliant. He’s Charlie’s old friend from school. He did his back
piece years ago.” I know he’s good if he did that because I saw it when he took
his shirt off on stage the other night. “He did Sid’s as well didn’t he Sid?”

“He did my sleeve. I had to come
back a few times for that.”

“You say that like you caught a
bus up the road,” I say turning to him, and he shrugs.

“He is good Nell if you’re set on
having one.” Then he frowns. “Is he still such a pussy hound Bram?”

“Think so mate - he was fucking
someone in the chair when I arrived last time.”

He looks at me thoughtfully.
“Well I’ll come with you then.”

Seth scoffs. “He has got some
control Sid, he’s not just going to jump on her. Although she is totally his
type,” he adds, looking at me intently.

Charlie shifts. “He totally made
a pass at Mabe once. Do you remember?”

“That was long before we got
together,” she reminds him.

“Didn’t stop him punching him
though,” says Sid with bloodthirsty relish. Then he turns to me. “Just make
sure to get one that means something. It’s shit when people are pissed and just
get some fucking symbol.”

“Do yours mean something?” I ask
and he rolls up the sleeve on his right arm.

“The only one that really means
anything is this one.” He runs his fingers along the inside of his forearm
where he has some letters done in white and grey which look stupendous against
his olive skin.

“Gradum ad tempus,” I read out
loud. “What does that mean?”

“It’s Latin for one step at a
time. It’s one of the sayings that I liked best when I heard it in rehab. It’s
about taking recovery a day at a time or even an hour at a time, and not
thinking too far ahead.”

I trace my fingers along the
ornate letters making him shiver slightly. “I like that. Why Latin though?”

He shifts looking embarrassed. “I
wasn’t trying to be pretentious. It’s just that I wanted it as a reminder
somewhere that I could see it, but I’m not the Daily Mail. I didn’t want
everyone to be able to read my arm.”

Bram snorts loudly. “You hope
that’s what it says. It could actually read
I was the counsellor’s bitch at
rehab
.” Sid laughs and then Bram looks around. “Why don’t we all have one?
I booked the studio for the night.”

“I can’t,” says Mabe. “Not being
pregnant.”

Charlie smiles. “The fact that my
superior sperm has knocked up my woman means that the tattoo artist will have
to look elsewhere for a woman.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, patently trying
to get a rise out of Sid who has stiffened so I change the subject.

“I’d actually just like a day
sightseeing,” I announce and see him relax out of the corner of my eye.

“I’ll take you,” he says.
“Although we might get a bit lost. I’ve been here hundreds of times but I’ve
usually been stoned out of my brain. Once I didn’t come back to the hotel for
two days and Charlie found me in this bird’s house. I was fucked off my face
and completely naked because she’d nicked all my clothes and was keeping me
prisoner.” He laughs and everyone stares at him. “What? Too soon?” he asks and
they all slowly nod yes.

***

We’re staying in a beautiful old
hotel in the centre and despite it being very late when we got here last night
there had still been loads of fans waiting outside the hotel. The boys had
stayed to sign autographs and take photos, and smiling at Sid I’d made my way
up to my room and after unpacking I’d fallen into bed and was asleep
straightaway.

Now, I stretch in the very early
morning light enjoying the luxury of a proper bed rather than my little bunk on
the bus, even though that’s above Sid’s bed. The boys had announced that the
bedroom on the bus was mine but I’d demurred, saying that if girlfriends were
visiting then the couple could have the room, and so far Charlie and Mabe had
occupied it which has been lovely because Mabe and I have been able to hang
out. She’s an old hand at touring having accompanied the band before, and never
makes a fuss at the long delays and waiting around that are a staple feature of
life on the road.

I slide out of bed looking around
my room which I’d been too tired last night to appreciate. I’m in a suite
called the King Grand Loft which is on the highest floor of the hotel and this
is reflected in the fact that the ceiling is open to the rafters. The beams are
a warm polished oak and they narrow down to the floor in the sitting area where
there’s a couple of squashy, grey armchairs.

The room is utterly charming with
a huge half tester oak bed and flowers everywhere filling the air with a heavy
scent. Despite the quaintness, all the mod cons are represented in the form of
an enormous television, an expresso machine with more buttons on it than the
Starship Enterprise and a massive entertainment centre. There’s even a
television in the bathroom along with a claw foot bath under a big dormer
window. I’m not sure what time it is but it’s very light and I pad over to the
window and settle on the window seat looking down onto a sunlit canal which is
quiet and slumbering with only a few boats moored.

Just then I hear a knock and I
skip to answer it knowing instantly that’s it’s Sid. Throwing open the door I
smile at him eating him up with my eyes. He’s dressed in a pair of dark jeans
that hang from his narrow hips with a blue and white gingham shirt layered over
a white t-shirt. He’s slung on a navy bomber jacket and has a dark blue beanie
pulled on over his messy hair which brings out the intense blue of his eyes.
“Good morning,” I call out and he smiles before it falters slightly and he
stares down at me.

“Jesus,” he says, pushing me into
the room and closing the door behind him.

“What?” 

He gestures at my lilac lace
nightie. “Fuck, sweetheart you can’t open the door looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Fucking edible,” he says in a
dark voice and I gasp and then moan deep in my throat as almost against his
will he raises his hand and lets his finger brush my very erect nipple, sending
a pulse of pleasure shooting through me. He shifts and slowly cups my breast in
one of his big hands, his long fingers moving restlessly, and I gasp throwing
my head back as a streak of pleasure runs down to my core. For a moment I feel
his warm breath striking my lips but then his hand falls away and he steps
back. I open my eyes to see him looking around the room. “Do you like it?” he asks
slightly hoarsely, and I blink slightly at the abrupt volte face.

“I love it Sid. It’s beautiful.”

He smiles. “I thought you’d like
it. We’ve stayed here before and I remember thinking how lovely this room was.
We’ve got suites on the floor below but this seemed more like you.” He steps
forward obviously intending to look out of the window, but buildings in
Amsterdam obviously weren’t made for men that are Sid’s size and he lets out a
muffled
fuck
as he bangs his head. I try hard not to laugh and move forward
to bring his head down to me so that I can rub the mark on his forehead gently.
“I know you want to laugh,” he says darkly and I can’t help but let out a
massive snort.

“For such a big heartthrob you
are a total dork.” He smiles looking delighted for some reason with that
insult. He opens his mouth to say I don’t know what but as if synchronised we
both realise how close we are standing together and how with my arm raised it
has thrust my breasts into his very firm chest. His breath comes faster and his
eyes darken as he lowers his head towards me but then he swears gently and
pushes me away.

“Don’t tempt me Nell,” he says
briskly. “I want to spend the day with you and see somewhere new with you. If I
take you to bed we won’t roll out until tomorrow, and I can’t even say that
we’ll get out then either.”