Trust Me (Beggar's Choice #2) Page 6

  “No, no,” he says immediately, a horrified look on his face. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Bram groans. “Well done Henry Higgins,” he snorts and turns to me. “You dress lovely babe,” he says with a practised look at my body that most definitely screams player as it’s so slow and thorough. Out of the corner of my eye I see Sid stiffen and glare at him, and then he interjects desperately.

  “It’s like a uniform Nell. If you worked at Marks and Spencers or I don’t know, if you were a mortician, you’d have a uniform then wouldn’t you?”

  I mouth the word ‘mortician’ and Bram stares at him in bemused hilarity. “God, make it stop - it’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Sid makes shooing gestures at him. “Fuck off. I need to talk to Nell on my own.”

  He shuts the door in Bram’s face and we listen to him laughing. “I think you should just stop talking, for the love of Christ. I’m going to get Charlie so he can stage an intervention,” he shouts through the door.

  Bracing himself against the door Sid looks at me imploringly. “Please don’t think that,” he says in a low voice. “You dress beautifully.”

  I laugh harshly. “Of course I do. Sid, everything I wear is from charity shops and has probably had more than one owner. I know it looks shit but it’s the best that I can do.” I break off with a gasp when he pulls me sharply to him and I feel for the first time the whip cord strength of his body and the incredible warmth that he’s giving off.

  “Shut up,” he says in a low voice. “I just wanted you to have some new clothes for you. New clothes make most people feel happy and I wanted you to feel that and feel special when you go on stage. It’s got nothing to do with you dressing in second hand stuff because the first time I saw you, you took my breath away. You’re stunning Nell, and even more stunning because you don’t follow the herd. You dress and look like no one else and it’s an amazing look on you. Sometimes I can’t stop looking at you because you’re quirky and beautiful and more real than anyone that I’ve ever met.”

  I gasp and he stops his impassioned tirade with a somewhat stupefied look. I get the sense that he’s said far more than he was going to and this is confirmed when he puts me to one side gently as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with me. “Well …” he says sheepishly running his hand down his hair and fidgeting.

  “You know a few minutes ago I’d have said that you’d dug a hole so deep there was no getting out of it, but that was nicely pulled back.”

  He smiles faintly. “Are we okay now?”

  “Yes.” I mean it because he’s so patently horrified by what he said. Silence falls between us until taking pity on him I shrug on my coat. “Time for me to go,” I say and he agrees with alacrity.

  “Come on I’ll walk you out to the car,” he mutters and I smile. When he first found out that I was catching the bus he’d been as horrified as if I was intending to travel by penny farthing in rush hour. Since then he’d made an open ended booking with a local taxi company to take me to and from work.

  “I really hope you’re noticing my quirky coat with its quirky holes,” I tease him as he shoulders my violin and his guitar and takes my bag off me too.

  “Oh fuck off,” he groans and I laugh out loud.

  ***

  Next morning I’m at Charlie’s house bright and early sitting in his kitchen with Mabe having a cup of tea. We’re watching Mrs M bustle about making breakfast. She’s wearing a very tight black and green striped dress with an extremely low cut top, and she’s dyed her hair a very bright shade of pink. It’s an interesting outfit and one that only she could carry off, although she does look a bit like an OAP clown. She puts down her spatula. “Right, I’ve done three packs of bacon and four packs of sausage and some black pudding. Do you think that’ll be enough?”

  “Oh, I’d think so,” I say faintly. It sounds enough to feed an army to me.

  “Well I am feeding that Seth. He’s a very large man,” she says in a horribly coy voice.

  I catch Mabe’s eye and struggle not to laugh. Mrs M starts to bring the food over to the table and I get up to help her before stopping abruptly. “Are you alright honey?” I ask Mabe who has turned an interesting shade of green.

  “Not really. I actually feel really crap,” she says faintly. “I think I must have picked up a bug because I started throwing up last night and I could happily do it again after smelling that food.”

  “You should be in bed,” I say firmly.

  “Who should be in bed?” Charlie asks, sauntering into the room, his hair wet and combed straight back. “Mabe, if that’s you I have to say I agree with that command. Mrs M not so much I’m afraid.”

  “Cheeky,” says Mrs M happily.

  Mabe makes a face and he stops smiling. Coming towards her he runs a finger softly down her cheek. “Are you still feeling shit babe?” At her nod he grimaces. “Get back into bed,” he says firmly. “I’ll ring work for you.”

  “Oh, no don’t do that.” She’s clearly alarmed, but he makes a dismissive gesture.

  “Mabe, it’s me. When have I ever been rude to your boss?”

  “Really?” she asks disbelievingly. “Are we actually going to have this conversation?”

  “Okay I’ll give you that. Maybe I have expressed my opinion politely.” She makes a rude noise and he grins. “Okay rudely, but in my defence he is a prick. Why don’t you just jack it in? It’s not like you actually have to work.”

  “Charlie,” she says warningly and he throws up his hands in acquiescence.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll leave it.”

  “I’ll ring if you like,” I offer and she smiles at me gratefully as does Charlie. He’s so in love with her that if anyone is nice to her it earns his gratitude.

  “Just say you’re me Nell.” She gets to her feet and then sways slightly. Charlie exclaims and tries to make her sit down again but she waves him off. “We’ve got quite similar voices and otherwise he’ll keep you for ages asking for details about me and making it clear that he doesn’t believe you. It’s easier just to say that you’re me.” Picking up a pen she scribbles on a sheet of paper that Charlie hands her. “Here’s the number. His name’s Mr Mason. Thank you so much for doing this Nell.”

  I wave off her gratitude and picking up the phone and dialling the number I watch as Charlie ushers her out of the kitchen. I feel a moment’s real envy, not because she has Charlie, but because she has someone. Someone who cares for her and looks out for her. The phone rings and then a curt voice answers, making me stutter slightly. “Hello Mr Mason, it’s Mabel Hudson.”

  “Hold please,” the voice says curtly and nonplussed I find myself listening to a very tinny version of The Police’s ‘Every Breath You Take’. I hear the front door slam and footsteps and voices coming from the hall, and then Sid, Seth and Bram come into the kitchen laughing with a blonde haired woman who is slender to the point of extreme thinness. Seeing that I’m on the phone they hush and settle down at the table. I surreptitiously check out Sid while absently tapping my foot to the beat of the ultimate stalker song. He looks windswept and healthy, dressed in a pair of skinny jeans with a grey v-neck jumper under which I can see the collar of a white shirt. He kicks his feet up on a chair while he speaks in a low voice to Bram and I crane my neck to see that he’s wearing half laced, battered old biker boots. I’ve noticed that he tends to favour a battered preppy look that really suits him, and I run my eyes appreciatively over him until I suddenly become aware that the blonde woman has noticed what I’m doing. Caught out I offer her a humorous mock grimace, but she just gives me a poker face and turns back to the men. The way my luck is running I just know that she must be Vanessa, and I’m going to be spending the day with someone who looks very much like a snotty bitch.

  Charlie wanders back in slapping his brother on the back in greeting. “Is she okay?” I mouth and he smiles and gives me the thumbs up.

  “She’s asleep already. Ha
s that prick answered yet?” I hush him frantically and he grins.

  At this point Mabe’s boss comes back onto the phone abruptly. “So Mrs Hudson, what can I do for you?” he asks somewhat snidely. “What appears to be the problem?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say quickly and trying hard to find my inner, poorly voice. “I won’t be in to work today. I’ve been very sick and I feel absolutely terrible.”

  “Well, I rather gathered that you weren’t coming in seeing as you should be at your desk right at this moment.” I open my mouth to apologise but he cuts me off. “Hold please,” he says again and I sigh long sufferingly and then look up to find Bram laughing at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You do know that in order to actually play hooky and pull a sicky properly you can’t ring in sick when we, your employers, are actually in the same room Nell.”

  “Oh fuck right off you bloody twat,” I say but as he breaks into laughter I become horribly aware that the music has stopped again and I can hear agitated breathing on the line now.

  “What did you say Mrs Hudson?” comes the scandalised voice.

  “Oh my God. No Mr Mason, I wasn’t telling you to fuck off,” I say horror struck. “I was just …” and here I flounder badly. “I was just telling …” Inspiration strikes. “I was just telling the doctor to fuck off.” Sid spits out a mouthful of coffee over the table, and Bram actually slides underneath it clutching his side while Charlie bites his knuckles. I’m slightly at a loss now but I rally and finish brightly. “Yes, I’m telling him to do that Mr Mason because he’s ordering me not to go to work and you know me, I really, really love my work.” I trail off slightly at the end and finish faintly. Sid is now bright red in the face and Bram is making a noise like a donkey. I somehow manage to bring the conversation to a close and then sink into my chair. “I’m knackered,” I say feebly to a fresh wave of hysterical laughter from the men.

  “Nell from the bottom of my heart I thank you.” Charlie grabs my cheeks and smooches me.

  “Ugh Charlie!” I protest, wiping my face and catching Sid’s smile. “Why are you thanking me?” I ask suspiciously because even I know that that was the cock up to end all cock ups.

  He shrugs. “I’ve been on at her to quit for years. I think you’ve just managed it in five minutes.”

  “Oh no don’t!” I cover my face with my hands while Bram who had been climbing back onto his chair subsides under the table again.

  Ten minutes later order is resumed and the men are heaping their plates with food. “Nell, this is Vanessa,” Sid says gesturing to the sourpuss with his knife.

  She smiles at me faintly and gives me a limp hand to shake. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “And you,” I say and a slightly awkward silence is broken by her turning back to the boys and involving them in a conversation about tour clothes.

  “Vanessa, you know this. We have the same conversation every time. Jeans and fucking t-shirts. As long as they’re clean and ironed we really don’t give a shit sweetheart. We’re not fucking Madonna!” Charlie is polite but obviously getting exasperated and I detect a distinct coolness towards her which is puzzling because the way she speaks to them implies a long standing relationship.

  Sid is usually the diplomat of the two and he doesn’t fail this time. “Van,” he says charmingly and she visibly melts at his use of the diminutive of her name. “Charlie’s right babe. We’re easy to please and you remember Adam. He’ll need the same as us so speak to him about getting his measurements. Nell’s the one that needs to be sorted so perhaps you could do that today.” She sighs visibly but then grudgingly agrees which is why we find ourselves in a little boutique off the King’s Road a couple of hours later.

  The shop is just up my street with clothes that are fashion forward but still different enough to be quirky, and it’s such a rare treat to be looking at clothes that are so new they almost shine. There’s no second hand smell to them and none of the having to make do that has characterised the last few years. However, having to shop with someone who seems to dislike me already is wearing and taking the shine off what Sid obviously thought would be a treat for me. For a second I wish fervently that I was here with Mark my best friend from school, because that would just have made my day, but he’s off styling a fashion shoot in Mauritius that his boyfriend is also working on. Flipping through the racks of clothes I look at Vanessa. She’s been fairly quiet so far and my nixing a few clothes because they were too fussy didn’t improve her disposition, and although I’ve tried hard to be friendly I’m starting to give up and the conversation is languishing. I decide to have one last go. “So have you known the boys long?”

  “Since the early days,” she says proudly, instantly perking up. Unwittingly I’ve obviously hit the jackpot of conversation for her – Beggar’s Choice and her association with them.

  “Wow! Have you always done wardrobe?”

  “Yeah. At first I was just hanging around with them but one night I helped them get their stuff together and it went from there.” She shoots a look at me and I tense because I know something’s coming. She looks far too happy. “I actually got to know them through my best friend – Leah. Do you know her?”

  I rack my brain. “The name sounds familiar,” I settle for saying, and I’m sure I have heard someone mention Leah. It’s just that I don’t think it was complimentary.

  She smiles cattily. “I’m sure you would have, especially if you’ve been working with Sid. He’s always talking about her.”

  “Sid?” I ask trying not to appear bothered. From the pleased smile on her face I know I haven’t been entirely successful.

  “Yes. Leah’s the love of Sid’s life. They’ve been together for years on and off.”

  “They’re not together now though are they?” I feel slightly sick.

  “Not at the moment but you can’t tell with that pair. Every so often they split up for a while, usually because Leah wants a bit of freedom, and although he’s shagged a lot of other women during the breaks they’re faceless to him because he’s always just really waiting for her. He’s waiting for her to get her shit together like he has, but no matter what happens he can’t seem to let her go and she’s the same with him. They’ll be together forever in the end - it’s meant to be. Other people come and go,” she finishes, looking at me, and the implication is obvious. “But they still keep going.”

  I wonder what shit she has to get together but I think I can make an educated guess and my heart feels sick. If she’s involved with drugs which Vanessa has just implied, then she’s no good for him. “Is she better?” I ask tentatively and she gives a strained smile.

  “She will be,” she says with great certainty. “She just needs Sid, but Charlie’s being a complete bastard as usual and won’t help her.”

  I swallow hard. I can’t say that I blame him. If Sid were mine I wouldn’t want him anywhere near any addicts from his past, particularly one that he’s had an emotional connection with. A little voice inside me asks whether I’m more bothered about the fact that she’s his on/off girlfriend than I am the addict bit, but I push it aside. I open my mouth to ask Vanessa more but then stop myself. This isn’t anything to do with me. I might be working with the boys but it’s just a temporary thing and I can’t let myself get attached. I know I am though - I can feel it. Who could resist a group of such decent, warm people who’ve shown me such kindness, and I’m repaying them by gossiping. Hoping to distract her I pull an absolutely horrific dress full of flounces and ruffles and with an asymmetrical hem off the rail.

  “What do you think to this?” I ask, showing her. “How about that?”

  Instantly distracted she exclaims in horror. “No that’s not right at all. Why don’t you try these on?” She hands me the armful of clothing that she’s gathered together and much as I want to hate them I can’t. She obviously knows her stuff and everything she’s picked I know will suit me. “The silhouette’s very 60’s again this year.” She looks at me
consideringly. “How would you feel about cutting your hair in a crop?” she asks. “Think Mia Farrow – your face would suit that perfectly because it’s so thin and it would set the clothes off so well.”

  “I’m not sure,” I reply slowly. Having my hair that short brings back bad memories of the night that I fell apart and cut it off myself. I’d been drunk and Mark my friend had been so worried that he’d slept next to me for a week. Shaking off the memories like smoke from my skin I realize I’ve been silent for too long and she’s staring at me thoughtfully. “No,” I say more decisively this time. “I like it this length.”

  “Pity,” she mutters and then darts to the side and comes back with more clothes. Gesturing to the sales assistant to put them in the changing room she goes over to the shoes. “I’d like to put you in short flirty dresses and I’ll keep the colours darker because otherwise you’re going to stand out too much from the boys. You’re thin so we can go for little shorts and skirts with tops and team everything with bare legs. We’ll put some instant tan on your legs.” She holds up some heels and then shakes her head when she sees my face. “Ballet pumps then,” she muses rifling through a shelf of flats in jewel colours.

  “What about my boots?” I ask gesturing to the lace up biker boots that Sam bought for me years ago in New York. She smiles suddenly, making me wish that she did it more because she instantly looks softer and more approachable

  “They’re perfect,” she laughs. “Very quirky.”

  For a second she looks almost friendly and I forget that she’s actually a barracuda who seems determined to hate me. “Yes Sid said that,” I laugh and her expression sours instantly.

  “Just be careful with those boys Nell,” she says in a patronising voice. “They’re heartbreakers all of them.”

  “Charlie’s happy,” I venture but she sniffs dismissively.

  “At the moment, but she won’t keep him. He needs more than some nonentity that he’s got fond childhood memories of. He’s a rock star, not the boy next door.”