Fourteen
I leave my mother’s house and going past Billie’s door run two floors down to ring Jack’s mother’s doorbell. While I am waiting for her to open the door I look down the railing, and see Fat Mary browning herself into an uneven shade of lobster.
Fat Mary is a big woman who lives in the corner downstairs flat and sunbathes topless in her garden, even though it is overlooked, by all the other flats in the block. Every Friday night she makes her hair big, stuffs herself into a tight dress and high heels, and goes to the Irish nightclub on Kilburn high street to find herself a bloke to bring home. Like clockwork they slip out of her door, all sheepish before lunch on Saturday.
All the little boys on bicycles always call out, ‘Hey, Mary, how’s your mary?’ Her fat face never alters as she shows them her middle finger.
Jack’s mother’s face appears at the kitchen window. ‘Oh, hello, dear,’ she says with a smile, before she comes to open the door. She has the same beautiful eyes fringed by thick sooty lashes as Jack.
‘Hi, Fiona. Mum sent you some cake.’
‘How lovely. How is she feeling today?’
‘It’s a good day today.’
‘That’s good. Would you like to come in, dear?’
‘Nah, I’ve got to run.’
‘Well, you run along, then.’
‘See you later,’ I say and turning begin to walk away.
‘Lana?’
I turn around. ‘Yeah?’
Fiona hesitates and I hitch my bag higher up my shoulder and take two steps towards her. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I…um…heard…you…ah…found yourself…a…boyfriend. A rich boyfriend,’ she says anxiously.
I shift from one foot to the other. ‘I just met him, Fiona. I wouldn’t call him a boyfriend just yet. It might not work out.’
Fiona’s timid face falls. It is obvious she has been hoping that the rumor going around is not true. Her voice is very tiny. ‘You will be careful, won’t you, my dear? I wouldn’t say anything normally, but you’ve always been such an innocent thing. And I thought to myself, even if I come across as an interfering, old busybody, I’ve got to say something.’
She takes a deep breath. ‘You know, I’ve always said you are the most beautiful girl on this estate, if not in all of Kilburn, and you should have become a model, but rich men are greedy. One is never ever enough for them.’
I put my rucksack on the concrete floor and leaning forward hug the woman. ‘Thank you for caring, Fiona. I don’t know how I would have coped all these years if not for Jack, Billie and you.’
Fiona hugs me tightly. ‘Oh, child, you are like my own daughter to me. What you did for Jack; I’ve never thanked you.’
I untangle myself from Fiona. ‘What I did for Jack? It is I who should thank Jack. He’s taken care of me and fought my battles since the day I arrived.’
‘He will never talk about it, but the year you arrived was the year his father died, and he became quite unmanageable and surly. He’d taken up with a gang who stole, carried knives and drank alcohol across the railroads. I was afraid for him, afraid that he would turn out like all the other boys on the estate—jobless drunks and drug addicts. But then your family moved in and suddenly he changed. He took over the job of being your older brother, and suddenly I got my caring, beautiful son back and thanks to you he’s going to escape this terrible estate and become a doctor.’ Tears filled her lovely eyes.
‘If I was useful to him then I am glad, because I don’t know what my life would have been like without him.’
Fiona smiles proudly at the thought of her good son.
‘I’ve got to go, but I’ll be around tomorrow with a box of biscuits like you’ve never tasted before.’
‘Oooo.’
I laugh. ‘More like oo la la… They’re French.’
‘Goodbye, dear girl.’
I wave, and run up the stairs. My phone rings and I stop to answer it. It is Mrs. Arnold calling to say she has booked an eight thirty table for Blake and me at The Fat Duck. She reminds me to be ready by 7.30p.m.
‘Thanks,’ I say. I end the call and think, ‘I’ve been reduced to another appointment in his diary.’
Halfway up the second flight of stairs I hear Kensington Parish call out to me. I pop my head over the side railing and see that he is standing at his bedroom window at almost eye level to me.
‘What’s up, Kensington?’
‘Hey, Lana,’ he says. ‘Do you think your man will let me have a ride in that car of his?’
‘Unlikely,’ I reply and carry on running up the stairs even though I hear him shout pleadingly, ‘Oh! Come on, Lana. You haven’t even asked. It’s a 0-77. It’s custom made, Lana. Come on… Lana?’
Billie’s door is open and her mother is outside watering her hanging baskets.
‘She’s in her bedroom,’ she says, by way of greeting.
‘Thanks,’ I reply, and run up the worn blue carpet. I knock once and enter. Billie is using up a can of hairspray on her hair. The room is choking with the stuff.
‘Jesus, how can you bear to breathe this stuff?’
‘Open the window if it bothers you.’
I open the window and take a deep breath before facing the synthetic smell in the room. Thankfully, Billie has finished. Her white hair has now been sprayed into a stiff man’s pompadour that will survive a hurricane. She looks at her reflection with satisfaction. Then she turns away from the mirror, switches off her small telly, and goes to sit on the bed. She pats the space next to her.
I sit next to her and put my bag down.
‘Well, spit it out then. What was it like?’
‘It was awful.’
‘What? Sex with the loaded hunk was awful?’
‘Can we talk about it in a minute? I need to talk to you about some important stuff first.’
‘No problems.’
‘You are still OK to travel to the States with my mum, aren’t you?’
‘Of course. Are you kidding me? I’d never get another chance like this. All paid.’
‘Good. I’ll sort the tickets out so you travel out on Wednesday. And Mum has an entire day to recover before her appointment on Friday. You don’t have to babysit her the whole time. Go out sightseeing and do the touristy thing. You’ll have to accompany her to the doctor, though.’
‘Cool.’
‘Oh! Before I forget. I brought something for you.’ I dig into my bag and fetch the jar of blackberry jam.
Billie takes it from me. ‘Posh jam? Wow, I’ve never had anything like this before.’ She reaches over, opens a drawer and gets a spoon. She twists open the lid and dips her spoon into it. ‘Wow, you get to have awful sex and I get to go to America and eat jam from Harrods. Brilliant. How long is your contract for, again?’
‘Three months.’
‘Are you sure you can’t increase it?’
‘Billie, don’t be such a witch.’
She spoons more jam. ‘Can we talk about your awful sex now?’
‘He left as soon as he found out that I had never been with anyone.’ I shake my head with the shameful memory. ‘I was pathetic, Bill. I lay there like a lemon.’
‘How do you mean? Didn’t you have sex?’
‘Sort of. As soon as he entered I sort of screamed in shock. It was so sudden and…well, painful, and he pulled out double quick.’
‘What?’
I bite my lip. ‘He just stopped and left.’
‘What do you mean left?’
‘He got dressed and left.’
‘And said nothing?’
‘He said, “It’ll be better next time.”’
‘Fuck me. He didn’t finish?’
‘No,’ I say uncertainly. ‘Is that very bad?’
‘Bad! He sounds totally fucked up. Nobody stops halfway for no good reason.’ She chews her cheek and leans forward eagerly. ‘Tell me what happened before he did the deed.’
I squirm. ‘Well, he had me dress up in a white frock with white underwear and white stockings.’
‘Oh. My. God,’ Billie hoots and begins to cackle madly. ‘He wanted a whore that he could pretend was a virgin, but when he found he had the real thing in his bed he freaked out and ran away. That is so funny.’
‘It’s not, actually.’
Billie sobers with impressive speed. ‘Sorry, yeah it’s not.’
‘Bill, will you teach me some techniques?’
‘I don’t know what I can teach you. I don’t do cock, remember?’
Then she looks at my distraught face and grins. ‘OK, let’s start with foreplay. Foreplay waist up has to be pretty similar, right?’
‘OK,’ I agree.
‘The ear is wickedly horny. All kinds of things can happen when it is given a bit of attention. Run your finger along the rim like this.’ She runs her finger along the rim of her own ear. ‘Sometimes you can lick your finger first and afterwards gently blow on the wet rim. But the best effect can be achieved if you nibble your way gently all the way down to the lobe and then suddenly stick your tongue into his ear. If done properly that should drive him crazy.’
‘Really?’ I say doubtfully.
‘You should practice on someone else. I’d let you practice on me, but I might start to really fancy you and that would be too weird.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘When you brush your teeth in the mornings do you ever look at yourself in the mirror? You’re fucking stunning, Lana. If I met you in a club, yeah, I’d jump your bones. How about trying it out on Jack?’
‘No, Jack is pissed off with me. He doesn’t say it, but he thinks what I’ve done is no better than what a prostitute does.’
Billie looks sideways at me. ‘I admire you for what you have done.’
‘Oh well, he doesn’t.’
‘He’s just mad because he’s always had this older brother, dead protective complex about you. But the truth is we are all prostitutes. Some women will put out for an expensive dinner, another for a ring on her finger, or a better lifestyle. You did it to save your mother. That’s a whole lot better than the rest of us, I’d say.’
‘Thanks, Bill.’
‘Oh, there is another thing you can do to banker boy. You can tie him up! You’d need a metal bed or a four-poster, of course. This bed here would be useless. I once tied Leticia to her bed and it was real good. I told her to strip naked then I blindfolded her and trussed her to the four corners of the bed. And while she was lying there full of anticipation, I calmly told her I was going out to the shops to get some chocolate, and that I was going to leave her bedroom door open. God, you should have seen the way she begged and then swore at me.’
She chuckles gleefully. ‘Her mother had said she would be back in twenty minutes, you see. I stuffed her knickers in her mouth and went out. Made sure to close the front door with a bang too.’
My mouth drops open. ‘That was some chance you took. What if her mother had come back and found her tied spread-eagled and naked on her bed?’
‘Nah, I had met her mother going up the lift and she told me to tell Leticia that she was going to the hairdresser after the shops and would be at least an hour.’
‘Was Leticia mad at you?’
‘Mad at me. She was quivering like a school dinner pudding. I stuck the Yorkie bar up her fanny and ate it off her. She said it was the best orgasm she’s ever had.’
I laugh. ‘Oh, Billie. Somehow I don’t think he’s going to let me tie him to a bed.’
‘You can still try the blindfold. It increases the sensation when you can’t see. You could suggest a game. Put the egg timer on and he who climaxes first loses. When it’s his turn, blindfold him and give him the best sucking he’s ever had.’
‘OK, maybe, I’ll try that.’
‘Let me know how it goes, won’t you?’ Billie says with a smile.
I look at my watch. ‘I’ve got to pop into the employment agency so they can tear a strip off me for inappropriately offering myself to one of their clients, but before I go; you know the extra money Blake gave me? I’ve decided I want you to have half.’
Billie’s eyes widen. It takes a moment for her to find her voice again. ‘I’ll take the free trip and I’ll take the jam, but I’m not taking the money.’
‘Remember when we were kids and we used to say if we won the lottery we’d share the money. Well… Isn’t this like winning the lottery?’
Billie smiles at me. ‘This isn’t the lottery. Besides, what would I do with money?’
‘You could go get your boobs done.’
‘Very tempting, but…’
‘No buts. Do you want me to turn into one of those people who are generous only when they don’t believe they will ever have the money? Would you give me half if our positions were reversed?’
Billie thinks and grimaces. ‘To be honest I don’t know what I’d do. I think I’m just like everyone else, I want to go out, get wasted out of my mind and have fun, but you’ve always been different. You used to save up to buy violets when you were a child and take the bus to see paintings in the National Gallery. That was probably why I was drawn to you then, even though you wore boring clothes and read the book instead of waiting for the movie version.’
‘While you painted the toenails of your gerbil bright red…’
‘Hamster,’ Billie corrects, and laughs.
‘Whatever. I know you’re on the dole and can’t show that you have too much in the way of savings so I’ve opened an account in my name at the Abbey and here’s the card. Use it as if it is yours.’