I'm really late again in updating, but I really haven't had a lot of free time lately. Maybe next chapter. Hope everyone is doing well. This one's a bit fillery but some things in it might end up being important later. As usual, I don't own Bread, and all the usual song and dance.


11

The visitation of Joey Boswell

'A golden day, son! A golden day!'

'Yeah,' Joey pushed the till shut without much enthusiasm. 'That's great, Dad. Really great.'

It hadn't been all that golden a day if you asked him, though. Freddie's absence had taken a toll on the shop's stock, the allotments left to tangle and grow weeds, the produce, in spite of his children's attempts to take care of it, stunted and a far cry from previous crops. And that had, in turn, taken its toll on business. Joey reckoned he'd counted about five customers all day – and only two of those had actually bought anything.

He couldn't muster the energy to let his Dad have it, though. He'd done enough of that when he'd had a frank talk with his parents upon his return – a conversation his Mam had been open to, while Freddie had given up listening halfway through when he realised it wasn't going his way and waltzed out in the middle of it.

'Oh well!' Freddie slapped his cap onto his head. 'Another hard day's work over! Fancy a pint?'

'No, you – go on, Dad. I'll close up,' Joey said morosely, neglecting to mention that the 'hard day's work' was supposed to finish at five o'clock, not half past three. He sat down behind the counter, his chin slowly coming to rest on his arm as he surveyed the empty shop.

What am I doin' here?

There was a time he'd seen his presence here as a sign things were going well. Those days had been coloured, he realised, by his immense relief he still had something to go to, some shred of dignity, after losing all his hard-scammed money from the number plate business, and very nearly ending up in the nick for non-payment. He'd been grateful his Dad had given him the opportunity to pay him back rather than some heavy-handed tax collector, and though Joey was still determined to toil away here until ever penny was paid back, being in this place was beginning to grate on him.

There was only so long vegetables could be interesting, really.

He found himself missing ardently those old days – when he could pick up a sneaky job from some shady character, bluff his way through it and come back a ton richer, when he could think up a quick idea and turn it into a reality (his number plates business hadn't been all that exciting, but he'd been proud of the fact that the idea was his own, and that its success meant he could stop operating at night and living like a barn owl, and let the rings under his eyes slowly fade away). If he could find himself another good idea, it might make all the difference. A change is as good as a rest, and all that. He just didn't seem to have the mental energy anymore, though. Perhaps it was the final humiliation with Roxy, the struggles with his family, the fact that he didn't seem to have a role at home anymore, or a combination of all these factors pressing him into the ground, but he could barely muster enough strength to put lettuces in a display and count customers' change, let alone think of any other way he could make more money.

He toyed with a stray penny on the counter, twiddling it between his fingers and spinning it across the countertop, feeling the seconds take away, inching a few more pointless moments of his life with them.

'Are you hidin' from me, Freddie Boswell?' a loud, raucous voice made Joey jump. He stumbled in his chair, almost falling out of it as Lilo Lil half pranced, half stomped into the room, an enigmatic mix of lust and anger. Most women had the capability to baffle, but Lilo Lil was on another level entirely – she was utterly confounding, and that made her a bit terrifying.

'I have been waitin' in dat shed since one o'clock, Freddie Boswell, and after that disappearin' act you pulled, you'd best remember I forgive, but I do not forget!'

Lilo Lil stopped short once she realised her intended audience was missing.

'Well, hello there, young lad lad,' her lipsticked smile was as much menacing as it was friendly, teeth flashing in an almost predatory glint. 'How're yeh keeping?'

Joey bristled. He had been trying to force himself to accept Lilo Lil, bringing her up in conversation with his Dad every now and again, but it never sat right with him – nor did his Dad's refusal to choose once and for all between her and the family.

'Er…if you're lookin' for me Dad, he's not here.' So clear off, his brain said, though he refrained from letting the addendum leave his lips.

'I heard you been through a bit of heartbreak,' Lilo Lil made a dramatic shape with her hands as she said this, her claw-like red nails flashing. God, that was a horrible sight. Joey had never been a fan of talons for fingernails on women. They were a bit unnerving, giving off some sort of primal warning: I can tear into you if you cross me. Nor was he all that keen on his private, personal pain being shared with Lilo Lil full stop. He'd never been under the impression Freddie talked about the family with her; his Dad seemed in general to treat his two women like two separate lives, only taking part of the one that took his fancy at any given time, unshackling himself from any responsibilities that came with the other.

Propriety seemed to disappear; he could do nothing but gape at her, agog, a befuddled 'er…' falling from his gob.

'There's no need to be shy about it! Here was me thinkin', I can't see my man in any o' his lads – and there you were all the time, with a deep, dangerous, forbidden lust burnin' within yer!'

Joey blanched then flushed.

'It wasn't like that,' he muttered, though he was still too deeply in shock from her presence, let alone her clawing open his personal life and loudly proclaiming it like her own, to properly respond.

Lilo Lil seemed to mistake his embarrassment for pain, coming closer and putting one of those frighteningly taloned hands on his shoulder.

'Take it from someone who knows, lad, ye can't have wild, fiery passion without a bit o' pain thrown in. They're like bread and butter…a horse and carriage…a—'

'I get the picture,' Joey grumbled. He knew it wasn't particularly polite to flinch, but he couldn't help it – he'd passed the threshold of tolerance for having Lilo Lil's hand on him. His shoulder twitched, trying to shrug her off.

'If I might give ye one piece of advice…'

Please don't, Joey's brain groaned, though he refrained from saying it out loud. He settled for jerking his head slightly, a resigned, unenthusiastic go on.

'Demand an explanation! Scream and rage! Unleash your righteous anger! When my man came back from the gypsies, I said to him, I said Freddie Boswell, there's hell to pay now!'

God, she could get fired up when something had rattled her. Her voice was a strange, coarse growl; she was circling her raised fist in the air, miming, Joey could only guess, swinging Freddie around by certain parts of his anatomy. And though Joey's pain had seeped into the forefront of his mind, and although he wasn't particularly pleased about being ambushed by his father's Irish tart, or that said Irish tart had taken it upon herself to come and give him counselling, his mouth couldn't help twisting into a smirk.

'If yeh've not filled 'em to the brim with guilt, you're not doin' it right!'

'Is that me little buttercup?'

Joey had never been so relieved to hear his dad's voice. Freddie may have been little help today, and he may be going off to consort with Lilo Lil in the shed, undoubtedly breaking his Mam's heart (or relieving her of some of the guilt felt going to visit her friend, though either prospect wasn't pleasant), but he'd come to the rescue just as the eldest Boswell was drowning in humiliation.

'Think on what I said,' Lilo Lil gave his face a parting stroke before she clomped off, sending shudders down Joey's spine. 'The likes of us jilted lovers need to share our wisdom, now, don't we!'

And mercifully, she was gone, though the smell of her cheap perfume lingered on.

After he had more or less recovered from her visit, Joey say by the shop phone for a while, brooding. The most excruciating, brood-worthy thing about it was that a part of him wanted to take Lilo Lil's advice, get on the blower to Roxy right now and demand an explanation. But even the thought of hearing her voice again had him trembling. As an echo of a memory in his head it was bad enough – to have that husky lilt filling his ears again was more than Joey thought he could bear. He doubted he'd have the strength to cope, the pain hovering over him like an anvil even contemplating phoning her. If he were to speak to her now, it'd come down and flatten him. He wasn't strong enough yet to speak to her, let alone to stand up to her and demand to know what she'd been playing at.

He picked up the receiver anyway, and then dropped it, the clunk reverberating through the empty room.

No, son. Let it be. Let it be.

He slumped his head down onto his arm, only to leap into the air again as the shrill chirp of the shop phone sounded.

It can't be.

That would be too eerie. Joey shook his head, mentally kicking himself as he reached for the receiver with his trembling hand. It was probably just someone ringing to place an order, that was all. No chance it could be Roxy, somehow connected to him still by some stray tendrils of what they'd once had.

His hand still shook as he answered the phone.

'Place of Nonpoisonous Substances,' he ventured warily.

'Afternoon, Mister Boswell.'

A couple of weeks ago, those words, delivered by that voice, had signified a threat. Now there was a distinct hint of tease in there, and the sound of it lifted him from the doldrums a little, bringing an involuntary smile to his face, not to mention an explosion of relief.

'Martina!'

He hadn't seen her since their little outing on Saturday. Truth be told, Joey hadn't quite known how to go about it – the idea of spending time with her again had clung to him like an old coat, an idea he couldn't shake off, only he hadn't quite worked out how to talk to her about it. The memory of laughing with her in the middle of a cornfield, wrapped around each other to keep out the cold, had made the prospect of a purely business-related DSS visit strange and awkward, and yet he wasn't quite sure how to approach her outside of the DSS either. Turning up at her flat seemed a bit too bold, a bit too familiar given they'd only spent a day in each other's company. Waiting around hoping he'd bump into her again was leaving things a bit too much to chance.

At least she'd saved him the trouble of working out what to do and taken matters into her own hands.

'How're you doin' sweetheart?' Joey was aware he was coming across a bit too eager. He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, tried to tone himself down.

'Well, I've 'ad two claims about dead dogs, a few repeat offenders headbuttin' the notice board, a handful of brochures thrown at me face…and your Adrian recitin' a two 'undred verse poem about the breeze and long, flowing grass and man's endless pursuit of beauty while neglectin' the pursuit of suitable employment…so all in all, not bad, yeah.'

Joey snickered in spite of himself. He could envision the movement of her eyes as she delivered this sharp remark, irises raising to the sky, rolling back and forth and segueing nicely into a frustrated slow blink, before she allowed a sly, sarky smile to make a brief appearance. God, he wished she were there in person so he could get the full effect. Having spent that day with her, after realising what a great idiot he'd been to treat her the way he did in Scotland, had completely alleviated any notion of her being a pain – she now constituted something closer to one of life's small joys…or guilty pleasures. He couldn't work out which.

And the fact that she had been the only one to show some serious, genuine care towards him in the midst of his horrific heartbreak (albeit with a few rather extreme spare-the-rod measures thrown in, such as, oh, say, following him to another country to demand he face reality), made her the ideal tonic to Joey's tumultuous day. It made her possibly the only person he could tell about what just happened.

'You busy?' Joey probed, taken with his urge to spill his guts.

'I'm at work, Mister Boswell. I've got a ten-foot queue of scroungers waitin' for their turn at me desk.'

'Same question.'

'Yes. If I didn't make that clear enough already.'

'Could you pretend you're not?'

She sighed. 'What d'you want?'

'To talk.'

'Oh, I wouldn't have guessed that. This bein' a telephone and all.' Her voice softened slightly. 'What's wrong?'

Joey swallowed. 'The usual.'

'Feelin' down in the dumps about being left at the altar and havin' no more family problems to sort out, even though havin' family problems to sort out drove you to the brink of insanity?'

'That's the one,' Joey smiled weakly. 'With a side order of Lilo Lil.'

'Lilo Lil?!'

'If you can postpone the masses for a bit longer, I'll explain.'

'Er – no, Mister Boswell. I can't postpone the masses for a bit longer. I can't just put my duties on hold because you feel like bendin' me ear and moaning about your lot – fascinating as you think it might be. If you wanna do that, it'll have to be outside of working hours.'

'And how shall I reach you outside of working hours?' Well, he might as well push. He had nothing to lose – come to think of it, their friendship seemed to be founded on the fact that Joey had nothing to lose. Not that that was a bad thing, per se – it meant he'd been a lot bolder than he would have been otherwise.

'I've got your mobile number, Mister Boswell, not forgetting.'

'Ah, yes,' Joey chuckled to himself. 'I did wonder how you got that.'

'Like I said, I have my ways of finding people.'

'Like terrorising my poor dear brother into giving it up?' He had his suspicions, though Adrian had never confirmed it out loud.

'He folded quicker than I expected, I must admit.'

Joey erupted into laughter at that. He could just picture it, and for a moment the image of Adrian quaking became so roaringly funny the eldest Boswell found himself choking on his own laugh. Perhaps his emotions were still running high from Lilo Lil's visit, but it seemed he was responding with hysteria to every little thing.

'You are a diabolical woman!' he spluttered.

'You'd better get yerself a glass of water, love,' Martina chided down the line. 'Don't want you keelin' over on your shop floor.'

'Yeah,' that sobered him up. Joey took a deep breath, wiping his eyes. 'Best let you get back to the angry mob, hadn't I? Talk later, though, yeah?'

'Just a minute, Mister Boswell,' Martina said before he could hang up. 'Much as I've enjoyed watching the queue of glaring scroungers amass in front of my desk during this little chat, I did phone you for a reason, you know.'

' A reason apart from the desire to hear my voice?'

She tut-sighed. 'Whatever strange friendship you've decided we're partakin' of now, I still have a job to do, you know. And you still have obligations, whether you like it or not. And you haven't updated your rent assistance forms.'

'What've I got to update them for?'

'Er – I believe a mention of a rent increase came up somewhere in conversation.'

'Are you actually helping me?'

'How much?' Martina insisted, voice stern again.

'Two quid.'

'Mmhmm,' her usual disapproving cluck. 'And the same for yer Grandad, I suppose?'

'Naturally.'

Another tut.

'All right, Mister Boswell. I'll adjust your allowances accordingly. Now will you leave me in peace to get on?'

'You were the one who rang me, sweetheart,' he teased. 'You may like to put on your frosty face and pretend to be severe, but just like in Scotland, your desperate need to be around me will out.'

'I'm hangin' up now,' Martina huffed.

'You will ring later though, won't yer?' Joey interjected, but the dial tone indicated she was already gone.

He kicked himself. It had been going so well, as well. The promise of a proper call from her had brightened the dour day he'd been having. She'd even been showing genuine signs of friendship, helping him even, and he'd had to keep on ribbing her.

Nice one, son. You've pissed her off enough to chase her away.


Dinner passed in a blur. Joey was sure the others noticed how maudlin he was – he couldn't even be bothered to try and hide it, and after asking for a bit more space to sort his own problems out, he didn't think he should have to – but they were tactful enough not to comment. Oswald was around again anyway, joking away with Nellie as if she didn't have any real sons, Jack had Leonora with him and they were either bickering or chatting (Joey couldn't follow their conversation) – even Billy with his capacity to pick up other people's business from a ten-mile radius was too busy feeding Connie bits of broccoli off the end of his fork to pay Joey much attention.

He managed a few mouthfuls before giving up on the meal, muttering his excuses to his Mam and lurching in the direction of the stairs. At least, to her credit, she didn't call out after him, demand to know what was wrong. Joey couldn't quite be sure whether to be relieved, or to feel a little bit wistful.

He stumbled up to his room, flopping backwards onto the bed and pulling out his mobile, as though simply holding it in his hands and willing it to ring would work. It remained a lifeless lump of black plastic, and Joey tossed it onto the end of the bed, shutting his eyes. If she wasn't going to ring him after all, the only other thing he could think of was to resort to what he'd begun to think of as the Scotland-default: sleep your way through as much of the day as possible.

His thoughts were beginning to blur together, muddled and hazy, when a strange noise slashed through them, forcing his eyelids apart again.

His phone was singing at him.

Joey was alert at once, springing up to grab it.

'You did ring after all!' he was aware how pathetic, how needy, how unlike him that sounded. A simple greetings would have sufficed.

'I keep me word, Mister Boswell. Unlike some people I could mention, who promise me til they're blue in the face they're gonna present me with proof they've been applying for jobs – and then fob me off with excuses about their Grandad's imaginary ailments and half-dying dogs and any pathetic reason they can pluck out of thin air to explain why none of these applications ever came to fruition.'

'Can a man help it if the tragedies of life get in the way of a few paltry interviews?'

He could sense Martina was chewing on her lip, slightly cross with him for answering back, but then her voice softened down the line.

'What 'appened, then, love?'

Joey lay back on his bed and outlined the day's events to her, from Lilo Lil's surprise visit (more like a nasty shock, and he managed an even more than you turning up at me hotel room just to show he'd never let her forget) to the torrid thoughts that had pervaded his brain ever since. How he'd considered doing as Lilo Lil suggested, phoning Roxy and demanding an explanation, but had been too afraid, leading him into a tailspin of fretting and wondering, once again, how it had come to this.

'Was I wrong, d'you think?'

'To hide in yer little fort in Gretna Green for a fortnight afterwards? Oh, yeah, you were.'

Touché, sweetheart. Turned out he wasn't the only one who could turn the Scotland debacle to their advantage. It got a little laugh out of him, despite his despondency.

'No, no,' he wiped his eye, relieved the tear that had leaked was one of amusement. 'Not to just…give into it? Just give her what she wanted?'

'To cut off your family?' Martina sounded utterly aghast, as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Joey flinched, in part with shame at her horrified reaction, in part at his own words. He hadn't meant it, not one syllable, it was a wistful stray pang that entered his head, a desperate what-if attempt to make sense of his situation.

'No – would I – d'you think I'd ever – all I meant,' Joey whined, wringing his duvet with his free hand as he tried to string the tangles in his mind into a coherent sentence, 'isn't there some way I could've done it so she was 'appy? Toned things down with the fam-i-ly enough that she felt –'

'—and d'you think there would ever have been a middle ground, Joey, that she'd have been happy with? You said yerself – it was never enough for her. It was all or nothing – and you couldn't have done it, love. You know you couldn't.'

Joey didn't quite know how to respond. She was right, of course, though admitting it might have broken holes in his skimpy fortresses of self-preservation. This conversation was difficult, but no amount of trying to change the subject was going to alleviate that discomfort. At some point, Joey acknowledged, he'd have to sit down and let himself work through his feelings, come to terms with what Roxy had done. He just wasn't managing it very well yet.

'Look, love, if someone said that to me, I'd give them the elbow right there and then,' Martina said, 'and I'm nowhere near as close to me family as you are. You just don't ask that of somebody.'

She paused.

'You just don't.'

That was a side of Martina he hadn't seen. He supposed his badinage with her across the counter had unfairly coloured how he saw her. He'd never really pictured Martina with a family – her propensity to disparage his own family at every turn had prevented him from really thinking about it, apart from the odd dig about whether or not she missed her grandparents when he wanted to wheedle something for Grandad out of her.

'Your family, then,' his curiosity piqued, he decided to forge ahead and kill two birds with one stone; find out more about her and take his mind off his current turmoil. 'If you don't mind me askin'…I take it –'

'—the sickeningly syrupy unity you go on about with your lot is lackin' with us?' Martina seemed to have caught his drift anyway, and she didn't sound too offended. Perhaps she'd accepted he was going to shove his nose in (not that she wasn't averse to doing a bit of nosing herself, so she couldn't really talk).

'What're they like, then?' Joey swerved any sort of admission, opting for another tease instead. 'I suppose bein' part of the wage-earning community is a paradise compared to our struggles.'

'Not a bit of it, Mister Boswell. Not a bit of it. Me Mam goes out to work during the day and takes in washing and sewing during the night, to make sure money comes in to replace the money that goes out owin' to me dad's poker games. Well, she tries, God love her, but me dad's debts can take on a life of their own.'

'Doesn't paint much of a picture of the workforce, does it? You know, anyone'd think you wanted me to keep claimin' Social Security. Keepin' me in that queue for your own amusement, are you?'

Martina went quiet and it occurred to Joey he might have gone too far. They hadn't properly defined the boundaries of their newfound friendship – perhaps it was a trifle arrogant to bring up his Social Security fiddles, or even dangerous, if her assertion the other night that she was still out to get him in her work context was true.

He swallowed, unsure how to proceed, when thankfully she broke the crust of ice that had been forming over their conversation.

'Don't try that on, Mister Boswell. There's still something to be said for takin' responsibility for yer own money – and don't forget, as soon as you earn over our threshold at that shop o' yours, I'm booting you from the queue for good.'

Joey smirked. Martina threatened that every other week, seemingly forgetting that she was walking right into his well, I'll just have to make sure I keep me takings just under that threshold, won't I? trap. At least she wasn't as nettled as he'd thought, anyway.

'Any brothers and sisters?' his curiosity wandered back in the direction of her family.

'I've got a brother – Evan. He's four years older.'

'Just the one?'

'Just the one, Mister Boswell. As I said before, I don't have a host of little sidekicks to follow me about.'

'Follow you about and cause chaos,' Joey said, only half-jokingly.

'Even one can cause plenty of chaos, love, believe you me. It'd take about four blokes to pry a bottle o' Scotch off him. And once he gets in a drunken state, we all end up runnin' about after 'im trying to keep him out the way of any trouble – or any serious harm. He's not himself half the time. '

'Aw, hey,' Joey's breath came out as a sympathetic whistle. It put the trouble his own siblings got up to in the shade – for the first time in a long time, he realised how incredibly grateful he was that the worst he had to deal with was Billy sobbing about his love life and Adrian's umbrage when he got a rejection letter for one of his latest masterpieces. They had their little squabbles, and yes, maybe they were moving on in life, but in them he had four people on whom he could always depend for love and support, in the end. It saddened him Martina didn't seem to have that.

He could understand to some extent. Shifty, of course, had driven them mad running about after him trying to keep him out of gaol after his numerous indiscretions, Shifty had simply refused to be helped. Joey wondered, for a moment, whether Martina had settled for a familiar pattern getting it together with him.

'No cousins?' he probed.

'There's me cousin Beryl. She went off to London to marry a rich fop called Robert, and I only see her a couple of times a year now, when she comes down 'ere. Even then she spends more time with her old flatmate than us. Me other cousin Gloria's only a few streets away but she can't really be bothered with us. And that's about it, really.'

'P'raps it's just as well,' Joey was aware he shouldn't keep defaulting to teasing her whenever the conversation got a bit sticky, but he hadn't got her worked out enough yet to know what else would do the trick. That would come with a longer acquaintance, he hoped. 'A great united army of you and the likes of us'd be destroyed.'

'Don't think I won't still destroy yer, Mister Boswell, army or no army.'

'Oh, yeah? And how are you gonna do that, then?' Joey lay back on his bed, grinning in spite of his overall despondency. Talking to her could make him feel, for a few moments at a time, that he'd turned over a new leaf, that there were new joys in life to discover, far from the wreckage of his past life with Roxy and the awkward pseudo-freedom his family were trying to offer. They chatted late into the night, and the eldest Boswell found himself thoroughly enjoying their conversation – not only because Martina took his mind off things, but because he was, just like their surprisingly pleasant outing before, having a great time. She was a good laugh, more so even than he'd realised from their banter across the counter – and not only that, she was genuine, caring, seemed honestly interested when he regaled her with Boswell anecdotes and offered some of her own in exchange. He'd told Shifty, years ago, that Martina was a good one, and having spent more time with her, Joey was ready to emphatically reaffirm that assertion. He managed to work in a you know you're brilliant, don't you? at some point, eager to express his appreciation in some way, and got a grumbly oh, go 'way in return.

He could have stayed on the phone with her all night – except for that fact that eleven o'clock eventually reared its ugly head, and Martina began making pointed comments about those of us who operate under a normal work schedule needing their rest.

'I take the point,' Joey snickered after her fourth unsubtle hint, 'I'm puttin' you to sleep with me conversation.'

She tutted audibly and Joey chuckled again.

'I'll let you go, then, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.'

He could imagine her shaking her head.

'Goodnight, Mister Boswell.'

Joey was loath to hang up. Night loomed, and the perpetually-looped dreams of Roxy that typically followed. God knew what they'd be like tonight – he was still a little shaky after his earlier encounter with Lilo Lil, her cajole for him to phone Roxy, the thoughts of actually doing so – and he could imagine already they'd be that much more vivid.

Forget it, Joey. I'm going home. I don't know why I thought this would ever work.

Joey's thumb trembled over the button, the sickening anticipation becoming too much to bear – but he knew, realistically, he couldn't keep Martina up all night. He wasn't sure what time she had to get up in the morning, but the DHSS opened early enough, and he was sure, what with her usual promptness and strict demeanour, she would be getting there well before the shutters had to go up. He sighed, resigning himself to letting her go.

'Goodnight, sweetheart,' Joey ended the call, hoping his voice didn't sound as heavy as he felt, 'goodnight.'

He lay his head back against his pillow, trying to keep Martina's voice in his head and delay the inevitable once his mind slipped away.


Not a lot happened, plot-wise, but some reasonable-sized developments are coming next chapter. And Lilo Lil may not be finished with Joey yet. Stay tuned.