Trust Me (Beggar's Choice #2) (9 page)

I laugh sharply. “You’re a strong
man Sid I can see that straightaway, and you’re forgetting one thing.” He looks
at me queryingly. “I’ve known about you and the drugs since before I met you.”
He looks at me almost surprised and I nod emphatically. “I’ve always known and
I’ve never treated you any differently have I?” He shakes his head, an arrested
look on his face. “I, more than anyone appreciate the strength of character
that it takes to get clean, so I’m not treating you like you’re weak. I think
you’re fucking brave.” His head jerks back in surprise and he stares at me and
I smile. “Anyway, I happen to think that if anyone should be fetching drinks
and blankets it’s you mate, and for me, because I’m one fucking brilliant
backing singer.” He laughs out loud at this holding his side and to our right I
see Bram look at him arrested for a second before smiling and turning back to
his current lady.

Recovering himself Sid leans on
the side of the bar looking at me in a wondering sort of way. He lifts up his
hand and catches my escaping hair again but this time his fingers linger and he
leans closer. “Nell,” he says in a dark chocolate voice and I can’t help myself
and I lean forward almost like he’s a magnet. His eyes shine brilliantly and he
grabs my hand caressing my fingers. “Would you …” he starts to say but he’s
interrupted by a very posh, crystal clear voice.

“Hello Sid darling. Long time no
see.”

Looking up I see a tall,
beautiful brunette standing next to us staring at Sid’s hand holding mine.
She’s dressed in a scarlet dress that ends several inches above her knee and
clings to her slender body. Her hair is long and thick, her cheekbones are high
and she has amazing golden brown eyes, but she’s thin to the point of
emaciation and her eyes are fevered. Despite this she’s one of the most
beautiful women that I’ve ever seen and standing next to her I feel like a
dowdy midget. I can almost feel Sid’s attention drift away from me even before
he drops my hand without a second glance, and I don’t need to hear his hoarse
‘Leah’ to know that this is the love of his life. I open my mouth to say I
don’t know what, but I’m stunned speechless when he just grabs her hand and walks
away from me without a second glance backwards. For a second I just stand there
too hurt and stunned to move. All that connection and spark and he just leaves
me here in the middle of the room without a second thought. A warm hand curves
around my arm and draws my attention away from the place in the crowd that Sid
disappeared into, and I turn to see Bram smiling at me kindly.

“Come on love,” he says and his
accent seems suddenly deeper as though he’s covering up some deeper emotion.
“Come and have a drink Nell.” He draws me to the table where Charlie and Seth
are sitting, and I redden slightly at the knowledge that they had a front row
seat to my humiliation.

Charlie pats the seat next to
Mabe. “Sit down babe,” he says firmly and then when I’m settled and have
accepted the drink he hands me, he turns to Seth. “Where the fuck did they go?”

Seth hums and pats him on the
shoulder. “They’ve not gone far I think. Bram’s gone to have a look.”

At this point Bram slides in next
to me dismissing the cloying attention of his girl with a dismissive, ‘Not now
darling’. He turns back to Charlie. “They’re over there by the fire exit. She’s
all over him and talking away, likely full of her usual sack of lying shit.”

“Leah, Leah pants on fire,”
Charlie says lightly, but his gaze is scorching. “Fucking stupid twat had
better not tie his dick back to that wasted cunt again.” Mabe stirs next to him
and slides her arms round him at which point he relaxes slightly.

“He’ll be fine sweetheart,” she
soothes. “Just give him the benefit of the doubt.”

I feel so out of place it’s
unbelievable. No matter how much they treat me as if I’m one of them I’m not,
and I know that it isn’t right for me to be part of this intense, family
conversation. I get to my feet and gather my coat from where I slung it over a
chair. They all break off and look at me. “I’m going to go,” I say and then
smile at their protestations. “No really, I’ve got to go. It’s late and I’ve
got to teach tomorrow morning.” This is a total lie but they’re not to know it.

Graciously accepting it, Charlie
helps me on with my coat. “I’ll come with you and put you in a cab.”

“No, no,” I say desperately. I’m
close to crying and I really can’t take any more unspoken sympathy. I feel a
bit raw, like my emotions are visible. “My dad’s on his way to fetch me.” This
is a total lie because I haven’t seen my dad in ten years, so if he’s on his
way he’s taken a wrong turn somewhere, but they don’t know this either, and
finally accepting my lies they hug and kiss me and say that they’ll see me at
the next gig.

Five minutes later I’m outside
breathing in the cold night air with relief and letting it dry the blurred
water in my eyes. I draw my coat around me already feeling the cold get into my
bones, and wander down the road. Now that I think about it I don’t think that
I’ve got the money for a taxi, so I’m just going to have to walk to the nearest
station and catch the tube because I’ve got my oyster card in my bag.

I walk for about ten minutes when
the sound of clear voices on the night air draws my attention and I wander down
a side street to see a group of carol singers gathered in the warm lights
emitting from a cluster of small shops and a pub. There are about ten of them –
six women and four men, and they’re wrapped up against the wind, singing away
as I draw nearer. I love Christmas and carols. Even though cheer was studiously
missing from our house when we were little, my mum always took Sam and I to
midnight mass, and just the sound of the old familiar melodies takes me back and
I suddenly miss Sam so much that it hurts. If he were here now he’d laugh and
hug me and say, ‘Fuck him Nelly. He’s not worth it sweetheart.’ I shiver
violently and hold my arms tight against me feeling more alone than I ever have
since he died, but then a hand grasps my arm and I’m drawn back against the
warmth of a familiar body. I stiffen and fight the embrace until turning I sigh
when I see Sid. He’s breathless as if he’s run all the way here, and he’s
thrown on a black hoody over which he’s wearing an olive green Element parka.
His hair is squashed under a black beanie showing off his beautiful eyes which
are currently tight with worry and a hint of trepidation.

“Jesus Christ Nell, what the fuck
are you doing?” he says loudly and then quietens when an old lady and her
husband shush him crossly. I push his hands off me and embrace the rage that’s
coursing through me.

“Why are you here?”

“Because you fucking walked off
on your own in the middle of London at night, you idiot.”

“Don’t call me an idiot,” I hiss,
smiling apologetically at the old couple who are now dividing their attention
between us and the carol singers. “I can do what I want and if I want to walk
naked through London at three in the morning then I’m going to do it and it’s
got nothing to do with you.”

His lips twitch and I know that
he’s trying not to smile. “Nell, I will never complain if you want to walk
around naked, but you’ve got to know that I’m going to be following you with your
coat for when you get cold.”

“
Why
?” I ask in
exasperation. “Why are you so bothered?”

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “I
don’t know why, but I am. Please Nell, promise me that you won’t be so careless
again. Don’t go off on your own.”

“I’m surprised you noticed,” I
say waspishly and then curse myself when I feel him tense. That sounded way too
spurned lover for my taste, and I open my mouth to try and mitigate it but he
interrupts me.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I
didn’t mean to be so rude Nell.” I snort and he pinches my arm lightly in
punishment. “I am sorry,” he says more loudly now. “That thing with Leah wasn’t
what you thought.” The old lady harrumphs and I look at her.

“I’m with you on that one,” I say
to her and she huffs and then moves away, dragging her husband with her and
leaving us to stand in silence. Suddenly I can’t help myself and I give a
violent shiver because the temperature has dropped just while we’ve been
standing here. He exclaims and then almost hesitantly he draws me backwards to lean
against him. I stiffen and try to pull away but he’s firm and won’t give up,
until in the end I relent and lean against him, relishing the toasty heat that
he always seems to give off.

“Fucking coat,” he mutters,
running his hands over the threadbare material of my coat. We lapse into
silence, finally paying attention to the voices of the singers which rise in
the cold air. They’re singing ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ which always
reminds me of being at school and we listen for a minute until he stirs
meditatively. “You know I never realised it before but when you think about it
this carol isn’t so much an ode to the Baby Jesus. It’s actually just a
shakedown over Christmas pudding.”

I can’t help it and I let out an
enormous snort of laughter and then we collapse into each other laughing our
heads off much to the displeasure of the crowd. Finally recovering himself Sid
throws what looks very much like a couple of hundred quid into the tin and we
wander off. Our laughter dying we walk in silence for a minute until he reaches
over and threads his arm through mine. “What are your plans for Christmas?” he
asks conversationally, and I can’t help but tense slightly and he must feel it
because he shoots me a sharp look.

“Oh, just family stuff,” I lie
valiantly. “We’ll probably just have a quiet Christmas.”

“What family will be there?” he
asks cautiously.

“Me, and my mum and Molly.”

“Molly?”

“My brother’s girlfriend.” He
must sense that I’m not going to say anything more because we walk on silently
again.

“You know we’re doing Christmas
at my house this year,” he offers after a few minutes.

“You cooking?” I smile because
I’ve been told that Sid can burn water.

“Fuck no!” he says in horror and
smiles at me when I laugh. “No, Mick’s going to cook.”

“He looks like he’d be a good
cook.”

He shoots me a sly look. “Is that
because he’s carrying a bit of weight Nell? Shame on you.”

“No it’s not … Oh I’m not being
drawn into this conversation,” I laugh.

“Anyway, we’ll all be there –
Charlie and Mabe, Seth and Lucy.” He grimaces and I smile. “Bram and whoever is
filling his bed on Christmas Eve.”

“That’s a bit of a lottery.”

“Not sure he’s much of a
jackpot.” We both laugh and then he tugs me to a stop and turns me to face him.
His face is earnest and kind and so beautiful I almost can’t look at him. “What
I’m trying to say is that we’ll all be there and I’d love it if you wanted to
come.”

“Oh I don’t know,” I start, but
he shushes me.

“Even if it’s just for a drink or
you want to stay for the meal, just please bear it in mind. You know if the
whole Christmas family shit gets too much.” He says this delicately and I know
that I’ve not covered up as much as I’d thought. I obviously need to work on my
game face more I think as he shows me a piece of paper with his address scrawled
on it and pushes it into my pocket.

“Thank you Sid.” I grasp both of
his hands in mine and squeeze feeling the same heat as before. For a second he
looks at our hands and I could swear he feels the same, but then he clears his
expression and looks at me.

“Just remember Nell, you said
that you’d look out for me when we were on stage. It works both ways but it’s
just a bigger stage for us honey.”

A week later I remember his words.
It’s Christmas Day and I’m standing in the kitchen with mum hovering behind me,
guiltily shifting from foot to foot. This situation is unusual in itself
because she never admits guilt nowadays, but I suppose these are exceptional
circumstances. “So let me get this straight,” I say with gritted teeth. “You
took the money that I earned and gave you in order to pay the gas and
electricity bill, and you bought Christmas presents for Molly instead?”

Mum wrings her hands slightly but
that’s the only real sign of agitation. “Don’t be hard faced Eleanor. It’s
Christmas. You’re making good money at the moment so it’s not exactly a
problem. I just thought we could treat each other.”

“Except it’s not treating each
other is it Mum?” I ask wearily and with a fair amount of bitterness. “It’s
actually just treating Molly, or am I wrong and I missed the present that you
bought for me?”

Guilt crosses her face but it’s
gone almost as soon as it arrives. “Don’t be childish Eleanor. You’re an able
bodied, fit, strong, young woman. You can buy yourself things whenever you
want. Molly can’t do that.”

“Except I can’t either,” I say
passionately. “When’s the last time that I bought myself something Mum? The
only thing I bought lately was your Christmas present.” Which you put to one
side almost immediately in favour of Molly’s present I add on silently.

“And whose fault is that Eleanor?
Whose fault is it that Molly can’t go out to work?” Just as normal, mum’s
instinct is to attack when she’s cornered. I should have remembered this
because God help me she pulls no punches, and for some reason I have a softer
side than usual and it hurts. Perhaps that’s why I open my mouth.

“I actually think it
is
Molly’s fault mum because it’s her fault that she ended up like this. Nobody
forced her to take those drugs. Anyway, there’s nothing that wrong with her
now. She could find something easily. She doesn’t have to go in the army, just
get an office job for God’s sake.”

“Do not take the lord’s name in
vain Eleanor, and where is your charity? Molly has a weak heart.”

I don’t actually think Molly has
a heart but I stop myself from saying it because if it comes down to a choice
between Molly or I, I’m under no illusion which one she’ll pick. However, a
burning sense of unfairness makes me open my mouth again when normally I’d be
silent. “No mum, Molly’s heart isn’t weak, it just isn’t that invested into
going to work. Why would it be when you and I are keeping her? Her actual heart
is as hard as yours is nowadays.” Almost immediately I want to take it back but
I don’t get a chance. Molly descends into the kitchen fluttering around her.

“Come on Judy, let’s go and have
a sit down. The Queen’s Speech is on. Leave Eleanor alone now.” She shoots me
one hard look and wraps her arms around my mum, and then they’re gone and I’m
left clutching a bottle of Baileys so tightly that I fear I’m going to break
it, and staring out of the window. It’s then that my thoughts turn to Sid and I
reach into my pocket and finger the piece of paper with his address in it. It’s
worn thin from constant handling and I brush my fingertips across it hoping for
strength.

I don’t know what happens then
but almost before my brain can catch up, my body is moving out of the kitchen
and towards the front door. I’m almost running now in fear that someone will
come and stop me, but the dim voice of the Queen drones on, and before I know
it I’m outside looking at the closed front door and then my feet are taking me
down the steps.

He lives in Primrose Hill and as
I left the house without my purse and have zero intention of going back inside
to get it, I’ll have to walk and that’s going to take me about an hour. It’s
also only when I get outside on the street and I’m walking through the streets
that I register the sidelong looks which are being directed at me, perhaps
because I’m walking along in sub- zero temperatures in just a short, black lace
dress, opaque tights and silly little ankle boots. I left my coat behind but
I’d rather freeze than go back, and besides which after an hour of walking I’m
so warm that it doesn’t matter.

I find his house fairly easily.
It’s on the corner of a leafy side street in Primrose Hill, set back behind a
low wall and just down from the parade of shops. I stare up at it with my mouth
open because it’s an absolutely beautiful building, being a five storey end of
terrace Victorian house. It’s white with massive windows and looks a bit like a
wedding cake sitting placidly looking out over the park.

A sudden shudder alerts me to the
fact that I might get hypothermia for Christmas if I’m not careful, and I laugh
out loud at that because that’s a gift no one would have to buy me and even my
mum wouldn’t begrudge me. This attracts a glare from a beautifully dressed old
lady walking a miniature poodle on a sparkly lead. I smile widely at her which
makes her wrap her coat around her and scuttle off dragging the dog behind her,
and then I wander up the steps, but at the top I hesitate. I reach up to the
doorbell on the shiny, navy door and then pull my hand back down slowly. I
can’t do it I realise in despair. These people aren’t my friends really, no
matter how nice they are. In a few months I’ll never see them again and my
pride absolutely hates the idea of them remembering me in the future just for
being that mad, lonely backing singer that turned up unannounced for Christmas
dinner one year. This was a stupid idea and my shoulders drooping, I turn
round. I’ll have to walk home and take the consequences. I can just go to my
room to get away from them, and then I’ve only got a few more days to get
through and we’ll be away on tour.

I think it’s only at this point
that I really register how cold it is because before I had this burning desire
to get to Sid. Now it’s gone I start to shudder with cold.
Stupid
woman
I say to myself.
Get
a
life
and
stop
being
such
a
pathetic
twat
. It’s at this point that the
door swings open and there he is. He’s dressed in black skinny jeans, a black
v-neck jumper with a grey shirt underneath, and rather incongruously for a rock
star he’s also wearing a Santa hat. “Nell,” he says in absolute stupefaction.
“I thought it was you. I just happened to look out of the window and there you
were.” Catching my shudder he exclaims violently and leaps into action.
“Where’s your fucking coat you silly girl?” he says crossly and hauls me over
the front step and into the house. A wave of heat hits me and I shiver in
reaction. He rubs my shoulders and mutters imprecations about stupid women and
then goes to take my hands but it’s at this point that I realise I’m still
clutching the bottle of Baileys. Sudden shaming tears fill my eyes and he sees
them. “Hey, hey love,” he says softly. “It’s okay. You’re here now - I’ve got
you,” and he unpins my stranglehold on the bottle which he takes off me. He reaches
out and puts it on a side table and then cautiously, as though he thinks I’m
going to run away screaming, he encloses me in a tight hug. The warmth coming
off him is extreme and he smells wonderfully of citrus and spice which I now
know to be from his Clive Christian 1872 aftershave, and I sort of collapse
into him feeling comforted like I never have before. We stay like that for a
second until a throat clears and somewhat reluctantly we break apart to see
Mick staring at us in confusion. His face is bright red and he’s wearing a
Santa hat with reindeer horns and an apron with the slogan ‘
Please Fuck the
Cook’
on it. He’s also clutching a wooden spoon.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Sid puts me slightly to the side
of him so that I can hide my expression for a second. “Nell’s come for dinner,”
he says in a happy voice. “Isn’t that great, and look Mick she’s bought us, erm
…” and here he turns the bottle towards him. “Baileys Mint Chocolate.
Apparently it’s chocolate, mint and alcohol – what more could we want?”

I know I’m standing there with my
mouth open. Mick stares at him in absolute astonishment for a second and then
at me, and then obviously giving up, he smiles. “Brilliant mate. I like that
stuff. It’s better than the fucking hazelnut shit. Anyway dinner’s ready,” and
he turns and wanders back towards what I presume is the kitchen. There’s a
silence for a second and then we look at each other and almost as if
synchronized we break into laughter.

“Chocolate, mint and alcohol,” I
gasp.

“Shut the fuck up. I couldn’t
think of anything else to say and you know me, I tend to open my mouth and say
any old shit when I’m under pressure.”

“I know. Who could forget my
mortician’s uniform?”

“Oh God!
Please
,
please
can you forget that?”

“I guess I can seeing as you’re
feeding me,” I tease and then my smile fades. “I’m so sorry for turning up like
this. It’s just ….,” and here I fall silent because how can I explain my life
to him? He waits for a second and then sighs in what looks like disappointment.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly,
tapping his fingers on my chin to raise my eyes to his. “I invited you and I’m
really fucking happy that you’re here.”

“Really?”

“Yes really. I wanted you to come
or I wouldn’t have invited you. I don’t do things that I don’t want to do.”

“Well okay then,” I say softly
and he puts out his hand to me.

“Come on let’s get you a drink.”
Hand fast we wander down a corridor towards a room from which a lot of noise is
coming from. It’s at this point that I realise that we’re walking on bare floorboards
that have been stripped ready for varnishing. Looking around I see bare walls
and loose electrical wires hanging from the ceiling.

“How long have you lived here?” I
ask curiously, and he pats the bare wall as we pass.

“Only a few months. I sold my old
place when I got out of rehab. I just couldn’t go back to it so I lived with
Charlie and Mabe for a bit.”

I nod because I remember reading
that he’d overdosed at home. That must have been his old place. “I don’t blame
you and this place will be gorgeous when it’s done. It’s got stunning bones
hasn’t it?”

He grins enthusiastically and I
look at him in bemusement. I don’t think that I’ve seen him yet without that
tiny frown of concentration, and here he is now without it and he’s stunning.
His eyes are lit up and he starts to tell me about the history of the building
before catching my stare. Misinterpreting it he flushes. “Sorry, sorry. I
forget people aren’t as interested in the house as me. Charlie threatened to
insert a paintbrush up my rectum if I showed him one more paint chart this
morning.”

I laugh. “Well I am interested,”
I say firmly and I mean it because this is a glimpse of a different man, not to
mention how much I love those house restoration programmes on television.

“Really?” He looks slightly shy.
“Would you like a look round later?”

“Ooh yes please,” I say
enthusiastically and he smiles before putting his hand on the door handle.

“Ready?” he asks seriously.

I take a deep breath. “Let’s do
it.” He surprises me by running his hand affectionately down my hair ending up
by cupping my cheek.

“Brave girl,” he says almost as
if to himself and then jerks and moves back. “Okay,” he says and flings the
door open. “Look everyone,” he shouts over the noise. “Nell’s here.” I have to
admire him and everyone else because they all do a fantastic job of ignoring
the fact that I’ve turned up completely unannounced, and instead descend on me
encasing me in cries of pleasure, warm hugs and kisses. I see Charlie and Mabe,
Seth and Lucy, Viv, Bram, a blonde woman that I presume is his date and Mrs M,
and after being passed from person to person for hugs they drift slowly back to
the deep comfortable looking sectional sofa and chairs in brown suede by a huge
open fire, and I take the opportunity to look round the room. It’s massive with
floor to ceiling windows looking out onto a very wild looking garden. In the
corner is a large Christmas tree gleaming with brightly coloured lights which
sits over an absolute sea of presents. Turning I see Charlie laughing at Sid.

“That’s what you were waiting
for?” he crows, and Sid shifts uncomfortably.

“Fuck off Charlie,” he mutters
and Charlie laughs.

“No, really. I was beginning to
think you’d got piles with your inability to sit still and I couldn’t work out
why you kept looking out of the window. Now I know, you special, special boy.”

“Oh my God shut up,” Sid groans,
and looks up at the ceiling for some sort of intervention which is granted by
the portly figure of Mick.

“Christmas dinner’s ready, you
lazy fuckers,” he shouts, and everyone cheers and gets up to follow him leaving
me trying to work out whether that was Charlie taking the piss, or whether him
seeing me outside hadn’t been an accident but that he’d actually been waiting
for me. I look round and he’s waiting for me patiently with a half-smile on his
face. Crooking his elbow he bows slightly.

“May I escort you into dinner
madam?”

I flutter an imaginary fan. “Why
Sir, you do me a great honour.”

 “I know,” he says placidly.
“It’s good you recognise that. Now get the fuck over here because I’m hungry.”

I laugh. “Oh my God, you’d be no
good in a Jane Austen series.”

“Fuck that. The men’s trousers
are way too baggy.” I laugh and he pulls me into another huge room out of which
delicious smells are drifting. This must be the dining room and it’s
tremendously light with high ceilings and massive windows, but again there’s no
paint or paper on the walls and the floors echo. The table is massive, easily
seating fourteen people, made of light oak and covered in a scarlet runner on
which are beautiful flowers and candles which send light dancing on the
glasses. Pulling out a chair for me Sid seats himself next to me and unsnaps my
napkin over my lap. “Hungry?” he smiles.