NOT THE VALENTINE'S DAY KISS
a/n I originally set out to write about Joey, Edgar and Roxy, but in the end I couldn't resist the opportunity to do a bout of joetina.
"Guard Edgar," Joey instructed.
The dog barked softly, licked his hand and lay obediently on the back seat. Joey wound the window down a fraction, locked the door, ran his hand lovingly along the wing, and made his way to the Dolphin, the £1000 cut from this evening's deal sitting snugly in his pocket. He opened the door and frowned, normally by now the pub would be virtually empty, the reason Joey used it on those occasions when he needed to take a breather after some of his riskier jobs. Joey knew the council staff colonised the pub lunchtime and early evening, fair enough as it was in one of their buildings, but usually they cleared off after two or three hours and by ten it was quiet. The place was packed, noisy and buzzing. He caught sight of the heart shaped disco lights and the penny dropped, Valentine's Day. And his heart sank, Valentine's parties were no fun when you were on your own, and he'd been alone since Roxy walked out of his life. Nine months with not a word, not a call, and he was hurting so much.
He was tempted to turn tail and leave but his heart was still pumping hard and he thought he'd have one anyway. He approached the bar and noted a crowd of people, a couple of whom seemed vaguely familiar. He racked his brains trying to place them, whilst the barman poured his drink. As he sought out a seat it came to him that they were counter clerks from the DHSS, although his favourite one, the lovely Martina, was nowhere to be seen. He looked around and wondered idly if she was about, probably not, he couldn't imagine that a noisy disco was her scene. His heart rate was returning to normal when he heard a familiar voice.
"Just about, I know now why they call him Heineken, he reaches the parts others don't."
He smiled at her indignant tone.
"Well at least you didn't have the Mancs Octopus to contend with. I couldn't keep track of his limbs," her companion laughed as they passed him to rejoin their mates.
As she sat down she caught his eye and nodded briefly in acknowledgement. He smiled courteously and raised his glass, noting just how pretty she looked tonight. He wondered what she would have to say if she knew just how much cash he'd netted this evening. She was always accusing him of on the side jobs to supplement his allowances. He chuckled to himself at the thought and downed his drink, slipping out quietly. Back at his car he sat debating whether to visit the sheeban or the spieler or both. Not that he wanted to drink or gamble but he did need to line up a job or two for next week. Something that didn't trouble his conscience, unlike tonight. Although, since his dad had left he had managed to buy his grandad's house for cash, and was negotiating for theirs, which tonight's money should clinch. Whatever the rights and wrongs of the recent riots they had been near enough to depress property prices and leave landlords jumpy and eager to sell. At which point he could leave this particular racket before it corrupted him completely. Joey was still shocked at how easily the lure of being able to secure housing for his family had overridden his morals. He came to a decision and pulled off.
A set of flashing blue lights ahead, caused him to make a sudden left turn into Paradise Street. As he stopped at the bus station to let out a bus, he noticed Martina and the woman she was talking to earlier, looking decidedly the worse for wear, waiting at one of the stops. Not a good place for young women to be at this time of night he thought, especially if they were a touch bevied.
'None of my business but,' he dithered, then did a sudden u-turn and drove back, entering the bus station and pulling up beside the slightly startled women.
"Good evening ladies, it's late and not the best of places here, so I was wondering if you might be wanting a lift home," he smiled winningly.
"The bus'll be here soon Mr Boswell," stated Martina.
"Oh yeah thanks, that'd be lovely," answered her colleague, fluttering her eyes at him.
Joey got out and opened the rear door for her, closed it and opened the front, smiling charmingly at Martina. She got in reluctantly treating him to an irritable glare.
"Where to?" He asked politely.
"Mossley Hill please," came from the back seat.
"Martina?"
"Devonshire Road," she answered abruptly, not over keen to own up to how near she lived to The Palace of Kelsall Street.
"Whereabouts in Mossley?"
"Glenmore Avenue, off Rose Lane."
"Ok, there then."
"Er, aren't you dropping me first Mr Boswell?" Martina had been hoping to be out of the car within minutes.
"Well," he smiled, "I have to come back and it'd be nice to have company on the return journey. And you're not that far from Kelsall Street."
Joey could sense the disgruntlement from both women at his reasoning, but he didn't want to be stuck in the car with some youngster that he didn't know, at least that's what he told himself, playing down any idea that he wouldn't actually mind spending some time alone with Martina.
"He's lovely isn't he? What's his name?" Martina's friend noticed the dog alongside her.
"Edgar," replied Joey softly.
Martina glanced at him, surprised at the tenderness in his voice. "Watch out Evelyn he's probably trained to pick your pockets and pinch your bag," she muttered.
Joey beamed at her, "As if, suspicious lady."
Edgar suddenly leant forward and licked Martina's neck.
"Gerroff," she mumbled, but fondled his head and ears anyway. Edgar rested his chin on her shoulder, lazily licking her neck, paws dangling down over her.
"You bloody daft dog," she smiled for the first time since Joey had pulled up at the bus stop.
"He's not much use as a guard dog Mr Boswell, if he acts like this when you're on your dodgy deals."
"Oh, you're honoured sweetheart, mind he's a very good judge of character." Joey replied lightly, taken aback by Edgar's friendliness. Normally he was suspicious of strangers and kept his guard up, he was even wary round the family. Joey recollected Adrian pinned against the landing wall, Edgar refusing to let him into the bedroom. And he had always kept his distance from Roxy.
Joey turned into Glenmore Avenue, "Here we are then, tell me where to stop."
"Just on the right by the next lamp post, thanks."
Joey stopped the car, got out and opened the door.
"Thanks for the lift Mr Boswell, see you later Martina." Evelyn made her way unsteadily up the path, Joey watching until she went in and closed the door behind her.
"Taking note of the address for nefarious purposes are you Mr Boswell? Martina asked with a wide smile as he got back in.
He shook his head, "Just making sure she gets in ok, just making sure that's all. You really do have a suspicious mind, dear lady. I don't know where you get it from."
"Too many years working at the DHSS," countered Martina, "that's where Mr Boswell. If you had to listen to the crap that I have to day after day you'd be cynical and suspicious too."
"Maybe, but thanks to your lovely service I don't have to and I can concentrate on looking after me large and somewhat struggling family."
She rolled her eyes, "They're just an excuse Mr Boswell that you use to bleed the state dry."
"Well, I do have to look after them you know."
Joey turned back to the main road but headed left, away from Smithdown Road and the obvious route to her flat."
Martina frowned, "Er, Mr Boswell, are you going in the right direction?"
"Oh, I thought we could drive back a different way, vary the view, you know a circular route." Joey was as keen to prolong the next stage of the journey as he had been to hasten the first.
Martina shook her head. Edgar responded by nuzzling closer to her.
Joey pulled off Sefton Park Road onto the edge of Harrington Dock.
"Just going to let Edgar stretch his legs, he's been in the car for a while and he's getting restless." Was as good an excuse as any thought Joey and it gave him a chance to spend longer with her.
She nodded and got out as well. She joined him at the waters edge, Edgar racing round chasing after anything that moved.
"You're looking pensive Mr Boswell."
"Just thinking sweetheart, just thinking."
"Sad really."
"What is?"
"All this," she waved her arms, "the waste, the dereliction, I feel, "she screwed her eyes up. "like the options are narrowing, the city's closing in on us, the shutters are coming down."
"Well at least you're going to be busy with plenty of work. There must be new clients every week the way things are going."
"Do you think I like seeing people thrown on the scrapheap Mr Boswell? Giving up hope when they realise there's nothing out there, watching them get ground down week after week, until they're like shadows flitting in and out. Most people aren't like you Mr Boswell, able to handle not working honestly for a living."
"Hey now," protested Joey mildly, "that's a bit strong. How do you know I'm not falling apart inside?"
"You're looking good on it I must say," she considered him.
"I'll take that as a compliment," grinned Joey. "You're looking very fanciable yourself."
"Mr Boswell!" Martina was not amused.
There was an embarrassed silence.
"You know what I don't understand about you and your brother?" Martina wanted to turn the conversation away from the subject just raised.
"What?" Joey was wary.
"Why your dad was still keeping the pair of you before he left. Most parents expect their twenty-four and twenty-six year old sons to be self-supporting. I mean if you were both unemployed why hadn't you claimed before? What have you been doing since you left school?"
This issue had been niggling at Martina for a while. She knew there were a lot of fiddles going on around the Boswells, but she hadn't been able to find any conclusive evidence and she was keen to hear what Joey had to say, now she had him cornered and outside work.
"Well," answered Joey thinking rapidly, "more under employed, you know, hours cut down again and again, till it was a day here and there, casual labour. But we didn't want to be a burden on the welfare state, and whilst me dad was keeping the house going it was ok but once he left, well, it wasn't enough, so against our principles we had to make use of your services."
"I see." Martina took his hands and scrutinised them, "They don't look like they've seen much labouring Mr Boswell, casual or otherwise."
"No, well, I moisturise a lot." He managed to keep a straight face, and a serious voice.
Martina shook her head and burst out laughing.
"You know one day Mr Boswell, you'll have a story that's about as watertight as a colander and I'll be there, waiting, with my harpoon gun and net to catch you."
"Look forward to it Martina," he winked. Edgar came back and sat down beside him.
She rolled her eyes, sighed and shivered as the February night air finally got to her. Joey took his coat off and wrapped it round her. He hadn't been this close to a woman since Roxy left. Her hair brushed his face and he suddenly felt a wave of gut wrenching loss, same shampoo as Roxy used, Ice Blue.
Martina pulled back, "I've just realised you're not Mr Leatherman. Do you transform once it gets dark?"
"No, well I've been wor..." Joey was distracted enough by visions of Roxy not to think carefully about what he was saying, but stopped abruptly as soon as he realised.
"Working, were you going to say Mr Boswell?" Martina had a gleeful smirk right across her face, her eyes alight and dancing.
"A couple of hours glass collecting in a club, an odd hour or two here and there, very irregular. I can't rely on it," he acknowledged. "Within the amount I'm entitled to earn before my benefits are affected," he added hastily.
"I see, and running that car, Mr Boswell must cost a fortune, more than a couple of hours as a posh pot boy." She raised her eyebrows.
"Oh, that belongs to the club owner, but he'd drunk too much tonight so he told me to take it and bring it back in the morning. Save him any temptation to drive then maybe get stopped and lose his license." Joey was back on form lying seamlessly.
She nodded disbelievingly, a smile playing round the corners of her mouth.
"Haven't you anything better to do on Valentine's night than stand on the edge of a derelict dock in the freezing cold Mr Boswell?"
"No, sad isn't it? Poor Joey abandoned by love." He tried to sound upbeat but failed miserably. "Have you?"
"No," she answered shortly.
He nodded sympathetically, "Want to talk about it?"
"Not particularly," especially not with you, thought Martina.
"I've just had a four year relationship break down," admitted Joey. "Well about nine months ago and I can't seem to move on."
"Oh," Martina wasn't sure what to say next. At which point Joey's stomach gave a loud rumble.
She settled for, "Haven't you eaten Mr Boswell?"
Martina couldn't believe that Nellie Boswell, after all she'd heard about her, would have allowed her golden child out without his dinner.
"Not since lunch sweetheart."
"Perhaps you could drop me back home then, before you keel over into the Mersey, leaving me with a hot car, your coat and dog. I don't mind the dog though."
Martina thought she should take this opportunity to get away, for against her better judgment she was unexpectedly enjoying Joey Boswell's company, and that couldn't be acceptable. She didn't even have the excuse of too much to drink, as she'd spent the evening dancing rather than drinking.
"Alright sweetheart, whatever you want."
Maybe he was wasting his time trying to befriend Martina, they were rather on opposite sides of the fence, but all the same he did have a perplexing urge to get to know her better. He walked back to his car. Edgar jumped in, tail wagging, Martina followed, handing him back his coat.
Joey started up, "By the way, it's not hot sweetheart. I have the owner's full permission to drive it." He winked and accelerated away.
"Right, here we are then." Joey pulled up a few minutes later.
"Thanks for the lift Mr Boswell, you off home now?"
'Oh God, why did I ask that? Why didn't I just say thanks and goodnight?' went flashing through Martina's brain.
"No, I wasn't planning to." Joey gave a shy smile
"Shady dealing?"
'Or that? Just say goodnight and get out of the bloody car,' she admonished herself.
"No, I share a room and I'm not particularly tired. I don't want to wake anyone up, our Billy's got to get up for school, so I'd have to creep in with the light off and lay awake. I'll probably sit in the car by the river for a while."
For once Joey sounded sincere to her, genuinely perturbed by something, "Oh," she paused and looked attentively at him. "Look, do you want a bacon sandwich?"
"A sandwich without meat would be very welcome." Joey was quick to respond.
Martina's mouth fell open, "Are you telling me you're a vegetarian?"
"Yes, what's so strange about that?" Joey was used to people being thrown by his non-meat eating.
"What's so strange? What's so strange Mr Boswell is that this is the first time I've ever seen you not dressed head to toe in leather. And leather comes from animals, just like meat." Martina went straight for the flaw in his stance.
"Er, it does yes. And your point is?" She was far too sharp, thought Joey, determined to brazen it out.
"I'd have thought that was bloody obvious, still," she shook her head, "do you want a fried egg sandwich then?"
"That would be lovely, yes."
Joey was surprised to find himself quite so pleased at the thought of being able to extend their time together. He'd lost the will to go and hustle for a couple of jobs, he could do that tomorrow night. He was feeling spectacularly lonely, no Roxy, no dad, everyone depending on him, and he had no one he could turn to.
"Can I bring Edgar in?"
"Course," she led the way in.
Martina's flat was on the first floor, spacious and airy. She offered Joey a seat and a drink then made for the kitchen.
She stuck her head round the door, "Is he vegetarian as well?"
"Of course not, you can't put human morals on a dog."
She came through and handed Joey a plate.
"Is it ok to give him some?"
"Yeah, course. Martina it's very kind of you"
"It's alright Mr Boswell, I'd be doing them for myself anyway, it's no trouble to do a couple of extra bits for him." She was poker faced, feeding Edgar pieces of bacon.
Joey smiled, "You know what I meant."
"Same goes for yours Mr Boswell." She was still serious.
"Joey."
"Sorry?" Martina felt one or the other of them had lost the plot.
"I'd prefer it if you called me Joey, rather than Mr Boswell."
"It's expected that we call clients by their surnames Mr Boswell." Martina's caution came back to the surface.
"Yes, but we're not in the DHSS now are we?"
"No we're not, but we will be tomorrow and the day after and the day after that."
"So you can call Mr Boswell as much as you like then, but right now I'd really appreciate you using me given name."
"Joseph, umm." She frowned trying to recall his details, she'd seen his card practically every day over the past year, "Frederick? Born 30/06/57 28 Kelsall Street. Now living at 30 Kelsall Street." He nodded, and a thought struck her, "What's your confirmation name?"
"Francis, as in Assisi."
"I might have known," she groaned.
"What's yours?"
"How do you know I've got one?"
He indicated a crucifix with a rosary draped round it on the mantelpiece.
"Rose as in Lima. I liked the name at the time so found a saint to match. And before you ask me middle name's Cile. Which no one can ever spell if I say it, or pronounce if it's written. Me brother got stuck with Cian. Don't know what came over me parents."
"Least they're only middle names. I mean Frederick's not great either."
"Suppose."
"So, will you?"
"Will I what?"
"Call me Joey out of hours."
"Why?"
"It's friendlier, less formal and I'd like it."
Martina couldn't see what his likes and dislikes had to do with it, and she wanted to keep things formal. Inviting him in hadn't been a wise move much less making him food. What had she been thinking of?
"Please," he was looking at her with a serious expression on his face. "It's nice having someone to talk to don't you think?"
"Yeah," she agreed guardedly. "But you've got a large, loving and supportive family Mr Boswell."
"I can't talk to them!" Joey was incredulous, "I'm the one who has to sort out the problems, keep the peace, provide for them, I'm not allowed dilemmas or worries or fears or a life of me own."
"I see."
"And given that we've been having a civil conversation and I feel I can be me for a while I'd be really grateful if you called me Joey." There was a slight pleading edge to his voice.
"Well," Martina weighed it up in her mind, "I suppose it wouldn't matter, but no taking advantage in the DHSS."
"Would I?" Joey was put out, "You've got a very low opinion of me Martina."
"It goes with the job." She was casual. "Another drink?"
"Please, I can easily walk home from here and pick me car up in the morning."
"Oh, your car now is it? I thought it belonged to the owner of the club."
"Ar'ey Martina, give it a rest." Joey sighed heavily.
"You said you had a relationship breakdown and you're struggling to get over it? Why did it end?"
She handed him a fresh glass.
"Ah well, she got fed up with the family, you know, always needing me time and attention, I suppose she felt I didn't care about her enough. I do, did, though, but I couldn't stop caring about me family and they all had crises together, and then when me dad left it came to a head and she disappeared soon after. I've not heard a word since she left, I don't know where she is or what she's doing. I know we kept rowing, but," he grimaced.
"Yeah, I can see it would be difficult to get over when you've not got any sort of definite end round it. It must feel like you're in limbo, not knowing one way or the other."
Joey nodded, relieved that she hadn't mocked him or come out with a sarcastic comment, but was showing him some sympathy. "What about you?" he asked gently.
She drew breath, "I did the finishing. He wanted to get married, and me to give up work and have kids, and I don't want to be left in the same position as me mam, or half me clients, or your mam for that matter. So I called it a day, I do miss him though. And I'm still not sure whether or not I did the right thing. Trouble is I know what I don't want rather than what I do want."
"But it's different now, marriage isn't it. Things are more equal."
"Are they? Not from where I'm standing. I look at me married workmates and I can't see things have changed much. It's still, I earn the money you do as I say, particularly once there's kids."
"It's got to change, there aren't many men earning a good wage, most of those jobs have gone."
"I'm not so sure, until men can give birth I don't think there'll be real change. You're just going to have more broken families, there'll be no point in having a bloke around, once you've got your kids, economically speaking."
"It's a bleak picture you're painting Martina. What about love?"
"What about it? Sex you mean."
"No, I mean love, there is a difference." He guessed she was still hurting.
Martina looked sceptical. "I'm not sure about love Joey, at least you know where you are with sex."
"You sound like me grandad, except he'd be coy and say hanky-panky," Joey was amused.
Joey was a romantic at heart, he'd never seriously looked at another women since he'd been with Roxy. He'd flirted with Martina, mainly to try and charm as many benefits out of her as he could, but tonight something felt different, had done ever since he'd seen her in the bus station. He couldn't nail down what it was, and was that last statement a come-on or was she just treating him as a confidant? It dawned on him that he really would like to know her better, in every sense of the word.
"Martina," he hesitated, and decided to take her hand, she didn't flinch or draw back as he was expecting, but she didn't turn her head to look at him either. What the hell, what was the worst that could happen?. He drew her to him and pressed his lips against hers, she responded by pulling him closer and kissing him with more passion than he'd anticipated. After they surfaced he murmured softly, "Happy Valentine's Day."
She smirked at him, "Valentine's Day was yesterday, Joey."
"Oh," he kissed her again, deeper and longer, holding her tighter, then gazed deep into her eyes, "Happy Not Valentine's Day then."