Conspiracy me blue......
'We should get out of the car' The voice was mine but sounded different.
I was more frightened than I had let on. It hit me suddenly. Cold, white fear that drained my colour and left me still. Ian just shook his head and stared out of the broken window.
'I've got to tell you something. It's about your Dad'. Said Ian. He looked sort of weird with his bashed up and bloodied face. Weird, like a film star. 'Gypsy is fucking with your head Claire.' I looked out of the window too now. It seemed better that way. 'You've got to stop listening to her bullshit. The truth is that your Dad turned up here looking for you just after you first visited us, that's how Gypsy knows all about you, your Dad told her. There is no fucking big underlying secret to this world. Just one sad lonely woman that wants attention from a sad and lonely girl.'
'How much of what she said is the truth?' I felt sick now. Could be the accident. Could be his words.
'She sells good speed I'll give her that.' A bubble of blood burst from his nose as he spoke and he wiped it clear with the back of his hand. 'And she was clever enough to figure out that the place where we squatted in Longwell Green, was just around the corner from the address that your Dad gave her. All the rest is fucking lies. Lies or coincidence. Nothing more.'
'What will I do?' I sobbed. Broken like the car.
'Fuck. If you have to ask me then you are fucked. Why don't you just get the fuck out of here. Don't look back. Find yourself a nice man, get married, have a couple of kids.'
Get married and have a couple of kids?
Now there's a thought.
Evening
John was in the back of the Boater Pub and he smiled with his mouth and his eyes when he saw me. We shared an evening of drink and conversation and I thought of Sarah's words.
'He's the key to the fucking door.'
I had assumed that I would go to John's house that night, but John had said that I couldn't. His parents did not approve of him bringing home 'girls'. I felt like crying but I didn't. I could not go back to the bender site though. I knew that much for sure. John could see that I was upset but I don't think that he really understood to what degree I was 'homeless'. To some people, to those who are loved and to those that love - it is incomprehensible that you have nowhere left to turn. I was relieved when towards the end of the night he muttered,
'Pete will take you home. Won't you Pete?' Maybe he did know?
Pete was sat across the table from us. He was not someone that I had noticed much before, but all of a sudden he seemed important.
'What am I supposed to do with her?' Laughed Pete.
'Let her sleep and keep her safe.' Said John.
'Let me sleep and keep me safe.' I smiled, but I expected less. Not for the first time in my life I questioned what price a bed? We all walked together through the streets of Bath to a new part of town, to Pete's place. John and I held hands and stared at each other like long lost lovers. All three of us went up to Pete's tiny bedroom then John tucked me in to Pete's tiny bed and kissed me Goodnight.
'Thanks Pete.' He said earnestly - then he just left us there. The bed was only a single so it was a real squeeze fitting myself and Pete in.
How was I still clean come morning? Pete woke me with a smile and a coffee.
Why?
When John came back to get me, I smiled at him with my mouth and my eyes. He had been true to his word and found me a safe place to sleep. We smoked cigarettes on the doorstep in the hour before he was due at college. Promises were made and goals were set. 'Hang in there.'he had said 'My parents leave for America in eight days. As soon as they have gone, you can stay with me.'
It sounded perfect.
Perhaps a little too good to be true but I still had some innocence, some trust left and the alternatives were unspeakable.
A new extended family surrounded me. John's many friends gave me floorspace, bed space, food and never questioned why John asked this of them. I am sure that more than one of them wondered why this man would waste his time on one so lost, but still they helped.
Eight days soon passed.
It took just one foot on the Victorian floor tiles for me to feel the comfort of that house. I adored it. Full of antiques and wonderful art, a kitchen packed with vegetarian food and homely copper pots and a massive garden with hidden nooks and seating to retreat to. The house was spread over four stories. It was a home. The ground floor contained a large formal living room and a huge kitchen. The first floor a large family room, the next two bedrooms and a bathroom and the top floor offered two more bedrooms. The people that lived here were spirited and independent. Their choice in decor told me this. I liked his family already and I had never even had the opportunity to meet them.
That first night we feasted on vegetarian sausage sandwiches and sat in the garden drinking good red wine and kissing. It felt so fucking perfect that it almost broke my heart. I remember those days in that house with such passion still. Snuggling on the sofa with John watching TV. Cooking. Sleeping. Fucking.
Listening to music in his bedroom, I would play Pink Floyd's 'The Wall', side 3, over and over again. I would twist his red and blond dreadlocks through my fingers and marvel at the perfect whiteness of his pale and freckled skin. I would laugh with him and I would lie with him. He was my Adonis and he gave me sanctuary, physically and emotionally. Bit's of the old me retained though. My attitude to sex was tainted with a view that I owed him much. I can see now how he must have hated that, but I had so little left to give that wasn't in the bedroom. Weeks came and went.
Some days the cracks would show.
'Where the fuck have you been?' I shouted angrily at his back as he headed up the stairs to his room. 'I'm talking to you. What? Do you think that I will hide away at home like your little fucking wifey, cooking dinner and waiting for you to come home every night?' I was fuming. Worse than that, I was frightened again. Where had he been?
He turned to face me with a weariness that I would come to know. 'I've just been out for a drink with Pete. I told you I might go out after work. I said that you could come, but no, you chose to stay in yet again.'
'Who are you fucking?' I screamed. That's what it came down to. Everything always came back to fucking.
He fell back onto the bed and threw his hands up to his face.
'Bloody hell Claire. What more do you want from me? When will you trust me?'
'You want to change me.'
'I don't want to change you. I just want you to get better and to...to shut up. Stop nagging me. Stop hating me. I'm not ready for any of this crap.' He threw the pillow at me. 'You fucking sleep here. I'll sleep upstairs.'
Silence.
That silence burned me. I was petrified alone in his room. It felt like I could no longer breathe at night if someone wasn't there to hold me. I flicked on the light and sat on the edge of the bed holding his bandanna in my hands, tears streaming down my face. Standing up I padded barefoot over to the mirror. Once again I didn't recognize the girl in there. She changed so rapidly that I was helpless to keep up with her. Looking around me, I saw one of John's old T-shirts on the bedroom floor. I pulled it on then glanced once more at my tear streaked face. He could not leave me. It just wasn't possible. I crept up the flight of stairs and opened the door to the bedroom.
'What?' He had started to hate me. I could hear it in his voice now.
I knelt on the edge of the bed, bit my bottom lip and raised my eyebrows. 'What do you think?'
'Just go back downstairs and sleep Claire.'
I swung a leg either side of him and poised on all fours above him. 'But I want to sleep with you.'
'Sleep downstairs Claire.' He said wearily. But his eyes smiled. This was not over as long as his eyes still smiled. I kissed him lots, up and down his chest. Down further, licked my way back into his bed. Momentarily, he almost let his moral standing prevent himself from saying yes.
Life was a little colder after that night.
Some days later I was in the kitchen, thinking of nothing much in particular and stirring a pot of pasta sauce, when two words highlighted on the calender for the weekend screamed out at me.
PARENTS BACK
And that was that. On Friday, no amount of sex was going to stop him asking me to leave. I knew that. I was shaking so much with fear that I had to sit down. I pulled myself to the kitchen table and collapsed in a heap of pain. I could not bear for him to leave me. I could not bear for him to stay with me but not let me live here. Where would I go? I had no money. The 'Me' that didn't live in this house was dirty and damaged. She was broken and limp. She could not sustain a relationship with a decent man. An Adonis.
Some people do terrible things. Some people live their lives scared and let that define their actions.
Later that day I headed into Bath Town Center for the first time in what seemed an eternity. I drank beer and cider with Dean, Tabbitha and Blackum. I drank so much that I forgot to care when John came to find me and tried to take me home.
'Not now.' I had barked. And as quick as he had come into my life he was gone. I will always thank him for those days though.
'You can always come to Stonehenge with us.' Said Dean.
'What's at Stonehenge?' I asked.
'Everything and everybody!' Laughed Dean. An adventure indeed.
Looking back, what strikes me as most strange about the story of John and me and my stay with him - is that he that would change the path of my life more than any other person ever would. It would not happen yet. Not for several weeks, when a chance meeting at the Bus Station would find him uttering these simple words...
'Fancy coming to a gig in London?'
And things would never be the same again.
Continued...
I was more frightened than I had let on. It hit me suddenly. Cold, white fear that drained my colour and left me still. Ian just shook his head and stared out of the broken window.
'I've got to tell you something. It's about your Dad'. Said Ian. He looked sort of weird with his bashed up and bloodied face. Weird, like a film star. 'Gypsy is fucking with your head Claire.' I looked out of the window too now. It seemed better that way. 'You've got to stop listening to her bullshit. The truth is that your Dad turned up here looking for you just after you first visited us, that's how Gypsy knows all about you, your Dad told her. There is no fucking big underlying secret to this world. Just one sad lonely woman that wants attention from a sad and lonely girl.'
'How much of what she said is the truth?' I felt sick now. Could be the accident. Could be his words.
'She sells good speed I'll give her that.' A bubble of blood burst from his nose as he spoke and he wiped it clear with the back of his hand. 'And she was clever enough to figure out that the place where we squatted in Longwell Green, was just around the corner from the address that your Dad gave her. All the rest is fucking lies. Lies or coincidence. Nothing more.'
'What will I do?' I sobbed. Broken like the car.
'Fuck. If you have to ask me then you are fucked. Why don't you just get the fuck out of here. Don't look back. Find yourself a nice man, get married, have a couple of kids.'
Get married and have a couple of kids?
Now there's a thought.
Evening
John was in the back of the Boater Pub and he smiled with his mouth and his eyes when he saw me. We shared an evening of drink and conversation and I thought of Sarah's words.
'He's the key to the fucking door.'
I had assumed that I would go to John's house that night, but John had said that I couldn't. His parents did not approve of him bringing home 'girls'. I felt like crying but I didn't. I could not go back to the bender site though. I knew that much for sure. John could see that I was upset but I don't think that he really understood to what degree I was 'homeless'. To some people, to those who are loved and to those that love - it is incomprehensible that you have nowhere left to turn. I was relieved when towards the end of the night he muttered,
'Pete will take you home. Won't you Pete?' Maybe he did know?
Pete was sat across the table from us. He was not someone that I had noticed much before, but all of a sudden he seemed important.
'What am I supposed to do with her?' Laughed Pete.
'Let her sleep and keep her safe.' Said John.
'Let me sleep and keep me safe.' I smiled, but I expected less. Not for the first time in my life I questioned what price a bed? We all walked together through the streets of Bath to a new part of town, to Pete's place. John and I held hands and stared at each other like long lost lovers. All three of us went up to Pete's tiny bedroom then John tucked me in to Pete's tiny bed and kissed me Goodnight.
'Thanks Pete.' He said earnestly - then he just left us there. The bed was only a single so it was a real squeeze fitting myself and Pete in.
How was I still clean come morning? Pete woke me with a smile and a coffee.
Why?
When John came back to get me, I smiled at him with my mouth and my eyes. He had been true to his word and found me a safe place to sleep. We smoked cigarettes on the doorstep in the hour before he was due at college. Promises were made and goals were set. 'Hang in there.'he had said 'My parents leave for America in eight days. As soon as they have gone, you can stay with me.'
It sounded perfect.
Perhaps a little too good to be true but I still had some innocence, some trust left and the alternatives were unspeakable.
A new extended family surrounded me. John's many friends gave me floorspace, bed space, food and never questioned why John asked this of them. I am sure that more than one of them wondered why this man would waste his time on one so lost, but still they helped.
Eight days soon passed.
It took just one foot on the Victorian floor tiles for me to feel the comfort of that house. I adored it. Full of antiques and wonderful art, a kitchen packed with vegetarian food and homely copper pots and a massive garden with hidden nooks and seating to retreat to. The house was spread over four stories. It was a home. The ground floor contained a large formal living room and a huge kitchen. The first floor a large family room, the next two bedrooms and a bathroom and the top floor offered two more bedrooms. The people that lived here were spirited and independent. Their choice in decor told me this. I liked his family already and I had never even had the opportunity to meet them.
That first night we feasted on vegetarian sausage sandwiches and sat in the garden drinking good red wine and kissing. It felt so fucking perfect that it almost broke my heart. I remember those days in that house with such passion still. Snuggling on the sofa with John watching TV. Cooking. Sleeping. Fucking.
Listening to music in his bedroom, I would play Pink Floyd's 'The Wall', side 3, over and over again. I would twist his red and blond dreadlocks through my fingers and marvel at the perfect whiteness of his pale and freckled skin. I would laugh with him and I would lie with him. He was my Adonis and he gave me sanctuary, physically and emotionally. Bit's of the old me retained though. My attitude to sex was tainted with a view that I owed him much. I can see now how he must have hated that, but I had so little left to give that wasn't in the bedroom. Weeks came and went.
Some days the cracks would show.
'Where the fuck have you been?' I shouted angrily at his back as he headed up the stairs to his room. 'I'm talking to you. What? Do you think that I will hide away at home like your little fucking wifey, cooking dinner and waiting for you to come home every night?' I was fuming. Worse than that, I was frightened again. Where had he been?
He turned to face me with a weariness that I would come to know. 'I've just been out for a drink with Pete. I told you I might go out after work. I said that you could come, but no, you chose to stay in yet again.'
'Who are you fucking?' I screamed. That's what it came down to. Everything always came back to fucking.
He fell back onto the bed and threw his hands up to his face.
'Bloody hell Claire. What more do you want from me? When will you trust me?'
'You want to change me.'
'I don't want to change you. I just want you to get better and to...to shut up. Stop nagging me. Stop hating me. I'm not ready for any of this crap.' He threw the pillow at me. 'You fucking sleep here. I'll sleep upstairs.'
Silence.
That silence burned me. I was petrified alone in his room. It felt like I could no longer breathe at night if someone wasn't there to hold me. I flicked on the light and sat on the edge of the bed holding his bandanna in my hands, tears streaming down my face. Standing up I padded barefoot over to the mirror. Once again I didn't recognize the girl in there. She changed so rapidly that I was helpless to keep up with her. Looking around me, I saw one of John's old T-shirts on the bedroom floor. I pulled it on then glanced once more at my tear streaked face. He could not leave me. It just wasn't possible. I crept up the flight of stairs and opened the door to the bedroom.
'What?' He had started to hate me. I could hear it in his voice now.
I knelt on the edge of the bed, bit my bottom lip and raised my eyebrows. 'What do you think?'
'Just go back downstairs and sleep Claire.'
I swung a leg either side of him and poised on all fours above him. 'But I want to sleep with you.'
'Sleep downstairs Claire.' He said wearily. But his eyes smiled. This was not over as long as his eyes still smiled. I kissed him lots, up and down his chest. Down further, licked my way back into his bed. Momentarily, he almost let his moral standing prevent himself from saying yes.
Life was a little colder after that night.
Some days later I was in the kitchen, thinking of nothing much in particular and stirring a pot of pasta sauce, when two words highlighted on the calender for the weekend screamed out at me.
PARENTS BACK
And that was that. On Friday, no amount of sex was going to stop him asking me to leave. I knew that. I was shaking so much with fear that I had to sit down. I pulled myself to the kitchen table and collapsed in a heap of pain. I could not bear for him to leave me. I could not bear for him to stay with me but not let me live here. Where would I go? I had no money. The 'Me' that didn't live in this house was dirty and damaged. She was broken and limp. She could not sustain a relationship with a decent man. An Adonis.
Some people do terrible things. Some people live their lives scared and let that define their actions.
Later that day I headed into Bath Town Center for the first time in what seemed an eternity. I drank beer and cider with Dean, Tabbitha and Blackum. I drank so much that I forgot to care when John came to find me and tried to take me home.
'Not now.' I had barked. And as quick as he had come into my life he was gone. I will always thank him for those days though.
'You can always come to Stonehenge with us.' Said Dean.
'What's at Stonehenge?' I asked.
'Everything and everybody!' Laughed Dean. An adventure indeed.
Looking back, what strikes me as most strange about the story of John and me and my stay with him - is that he that would change the path of my life more than any other person ever would. It would not happen yet. Not for several weeks, when a chance meeting at the Bus Station would find him uttering these simple words...
'Fancy coming to a gig in London?'
And things would never be the same again.
Continued...
posted by Claire at 3:43 pm
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