Ah Pop you figured it out! And before Joey does too ;) You were right though, and there'll be more on that in later chapters.
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. More crossoverishness abounds, and a lot of frustration and tension. This has been slightly bowdlerised from the original text to get it under the T wire, so hopefully it flows.
20
The temptation of Joey Boswell
Joey and Evan's meeting with Yizzel and his mate ran two hours over time, meaning the party was already in full swing by the time the eldest Boswell got there, Sandra's living room packed and buzzing with life.
They had a much smaller budget than Leonora's family, and yet this was already miles ahead of last week's evening, sofas pushed to one side to clear most of the floor for dancing, a couple of tables of drinks set up, everyone vibrant and cheerful and making the most of it.
Joey kissed Sandra and Carol in greeting and tried to make a hasty escape into the crowd before his other cousin spotted him and roped him into an hours-long conversation.
Too late. He'd been spotted, and Lucien intercepted him before he could get any further.
'Joey.'
'Ah. Greetings.' Joey forced a smile onto his face, eyes darting out the room trying to find an escape. 'How are you faring, then, Lucien?'
Lucien shrugged, his rabbit-fur waistcoat bunching up around his shoulders.
'I gorra new rabbit recently. Sort of black coloured. If I bred 'im with me pure white one, d'you reckon I'd get grey kittens, or a couple of black and a couple of white?'
Joey's fake smile started to hurt his teeth. 'Who can say, sunshine? One of the mysteries of nature, isn't it? All that genetics stuff.'
Lucien was lost somewhere in his head. 'Sort of a chessboard litter, wouldn't you say?'
Joey couldn't help it then; he'd been holding back an eyeroll for too long.
'Listen, sunshine, before you get it into your 'ead to try inventing some sort o' rabbit chess game, I really have to –'
'Rabbit chess!' Lucien's eyes lit up, his gormless face brightened in excitement. 'I'd have enough rabbits for chess, you know. But I can't help thinkin', who'd move 'em around? They like to move themselves. That'd make for an interestin' game. Let 'em loose on the board and see where they go.'
Joey blinked. It was hard to understand what his cousin was on about at the best of times; he seemed to make links in his head and assume everyone was on his wavelength without sharing how he came to his strange conclusions.
'Anyway, look, much as I'd love to stay and –'
'You seen this, Joey?'
Lucien thrust something in front of his nose before he could protest.
It took him a few seconds to realise what he was meant to be looking at – and when he did, he wished he hadn't worked it out. A rabbit's foot on a necklace. Oh, God, this was not how he'd planned to spend his evening. What he'd admitted to Martina previously had been true – his vegetarianism may be a bit more half-arsed than he let on to his family – and yes, he was wearing his usual half-cow's worth of leather, but seeing the lopped-off limb of a cute family pet still made his stomach turn.
Joey made a face of distaste.
'It was our Thumper's. Before he snuffed it. A good rabbit, old Thumper was. Deserved to be remembered.'
The eldest Boswell couldn't help but cringe. He and his siblings had scattered Mongy's ashes and given him a good send off. His cousin's penchant for preserving the remains of his dead pets – then wearing them – further confounded him as to what Lucien must be taking half the time. Even Billy wasn't this daft.
'It's lucky, this.'
'Yeah, well…excuse me, I just have to…' he frantically tried to think of an excuse, realising he already had one. 'I'm meant to be meetin' someone – I'll catch you later, okay, Lucien?'
'I'll show you me collection someday.'
Not if I can help it, thought Joey, scanning surreptitiously for Martina. He hadn't spotted her yet, but the other side of the room was obscured by people on the dance floor, and so he slowly worked his way around, trying to make out faces in the dim coloured lights flashing about.
He paused at the drinks table, sculling one just to take the edge off, to give him a confidence boost before he went for it.
'Okay – one, two, three!'
Joey turned his head at the familiar raucous voice, cringing as Connie downed a shot of something nasty-looking and Billy followed suit.
'I win!' She turned her glass upside down on her head. 'C'mon, Billy, you lost. Get that down yer!'
And his little brother picked up another, larger glass.
He really shouldn't say anything. Their life. Their mistakes. Their stupidity.
But when they repeated the daft contest all over again, Billy losing for a second time, Joey couldn't tamp down his urge to intervene.
'You wanna steady on with those, son,' he chided. 'You'll do yourself a mischief.'
'Eh – I've got strong guts, I have!' Billy puffed out his chest, and the eldest Boswell realised his warning may have come a little too late. His brother was a bit on the tipsy side, and he wondered how many rounds of this little game Billy and Connie had already played this evening.
'Strong guts or not, you don't wanna be chuckin' 'em up later, now, do you?' His own recent hangover still haunted him; he hadn't had it that badly in years, and Billy had already overtaken him in quantity of beverages consumed. 'Trust me, sunshine, you'll regret it.'
'And 'oo are you, the fun police?' bawled an equally tipsy Connie. 'C'mon, Billy, let's dance.'
Billy fairly leapt onto the dance floor with her, where they proceeded to romp about like loons, all but knocking over anyone who danced too close to them.
Joey shook his head. Well, at least they were enjoying themselves, even if he got a sneaking suspicion he'd be nursing an unwell Billy tomorrow.
He snaked his way through the people milling about, eyes peeled for his target.
Martina was perched on one of the sofas at the far end of the room, barely-drunk glass of something in her hand, wearing the same red dress she'd worn to Jack and Leonora's do – the same one she'd also been wearing the night he'd approached her in the pub, that had seen him drooling over her in his mind, trying to pretend his intentions were merely friendly. Her legs were crossed, her skirt – already quite short – hiked up even further from this, and with so much of her lower half on display, as well as most of her shoulders, and the memory of a kiss that hadn't happened this afternoon still hovering around his head, Joey felt a surge run through his body that was one part nerves, two parts arousal.
Still, strong as the temptation was to strut right over there and finish their unfinished business, it wouldn't do. Not at a party; not when he'd run off on the brink of a moment to deal with a work issue; not when he still had some semblance of a cool façade to maintain where she was concerned.
He smoothed his hair, turned up his collar, straightened his shirt and walked over as casually as he could manage.
'Tsk, tsk. I've seen that dress before. Need to up your game a bit, sweetheart.'
Martina didn't seem surprised, even though he'd sneaked up on her.
'Nice to see you too, Mister Boswell.' She shook her head, smirking.
Joey sat down beside her, his arm finding its way around her shoulders.
'Do you only own one nice outfit?'
'Er – you're a fine one to talk, Joey Boswell. In spite of the fact that you could probably afford more than one outfit, I don't think I've ever seen you in anything other than that leather gear.'
'Ah, but you are forgetting one crucial point of difference – I own multiple sets of leather gear that just happen to look similar, so chances are, you have never seen me in the same outfit!'
'Oh, yeah? Own a leather jacket for every day of the week, do yer?'
'And then some. Let's not forget the trousers as well.'
'And you wonder why I object to you waltzing out of me workplace with half the state's money. If you're gonna waste it all on that many leather suits.'
'I do have another suit, as it happens,' Joey said, deciding to take advantage of the liquid courage he'd had and test the waters a bit. 'A non-leather one. I can show you, one day, if you like.'
'Oh, yeah? What's this one made of? Golden thread?'
'Nothing.'
She frowned. 'Nothing?'
'Yeah. Nothing.' Joey winked, getting to the punchline. 'It's me birthday suit.'
'Oh, God,' Martina scoffed, but he could see she was trying to hold back a laugh. 'I suppose I should have seen that one comin'.'
'Enjoyin' yourself, then?' Joey teased. 'Sittin' there being antisocial? This is a party, you know. The very idea being to go and mingle with people.'
'And yet you're sittin' here with me and not doing a lot of that yourself.'
'Ah, well, that's different, you see,' he crossed his legs, clearing his throat. 'I had a pressing mission in coming here.'
'Oh, yeah? And what might that be?'
He'd been hoping to get to this conversation from the minute he walked through the door, and yet the minute she gave him an opening, his tongue had tied itself in a knot.
'Well,' he began, determined to push on regardless, when a loud voice cut in between them.
'Oo 'eck, I told Sand she'd started too early – if we run out o' booze too soon we'll have 'em peeling off and goin' 'ome before we've even got this thing going!'
The tiny woman attached to the voice flopped onto the sofa beside Martina, giving her a friendly elbow.
'See you've done well tonight, Tina. Who's yer friend?'
Martina sat up straighter, giving a resigned smile.
'Beryl, this is Joey Boswell, who's made it his life's mission to do me 'ead in. Joey, this is me cousin Beryl.'
'I expect she's told you all about me,' Beryl said, leaning across Martina to shake Joey's hand.
'Er, actually,' Joey felt he was failing some sort of loyalty test if he outright said no, 'just a bit.'
'Just a bit? Eh? Tina, he's missin' out here! Could've got the 'ole effect! Beryl Hennessey as was, still young and ready to bring some excitement to the night! Everyone's got a story or two about me!'
'And what's Robert say about that?' Martina smirked.
'Nothing, that's what. Someone had to stay home with our little lad, didn't they? They're both back up in London, so for one night only, I'm livin' it up like it were ten years ago. And it looks like it needs it – this city's dead as a doornail since I've left. Needs livenin' up again. There's no 'arm in remindin' people of what they're missing now I'm off the scene, is there?'
Martina shrugged. 'I wouldn't know, would I?'
'Now that's your biggest problem, Martina. I like to make me mark upon the world. You like to hide away. You'll never mek something of yourself stayin' in doing the crossword, will yer? You need to get out more – and you need to stop skimpin' on the details about yer family.' She poked Martina's arm to punctuate each word in this last phrase.
'Oh, yeah? And why is that, exactly?'
'It's a selling point, innit? You bein' related to Liverpool's answer to Elizabeth Taylor. Always good to have a bit o' colourful background to talk about when you're chattin' up a fella.'
Martina visibly blanched. 'I'm not chattin' anybody up, Beryl.'
'You look pretty cosy if you ask me,' Beryl gave Martina a pointed nudge.
'Oh go 'way,' Martina shoved her back, and Beryl unleashed another loud laugh.
Apart from her diminutive size, Joey could see nothing of Martina in her. She was coarse, her voice raucous and hyperactive where Martina's was smooth and clipped; she was bubbly and overexcitable where Martina was aloof and reserved – and yet, in spite of their obvious differences, she and Martina were clearly fond of each other, completely at ease with one another, even as the former was tormenting the latter.
Joey would have happily stayed and chatted to the pair of them – Beryl seemed fantastic, and he would have enjoyed getting to know Martina's cousin better, had the circumstances been different. But this evening, he'd had other plans, and those were constantly getting derailed by bloody family and friends. And so when Beryl spied Sandra wandering past and called out to her, Joey felt an intense rush of relief, followed by a guilty hope she might go off with her and leave him and Martina in peace.
''ere, Sandra! I was just saying to these, you need to lay on a few more drinks; we'll bleedin' run out!'
'Beryl, I told yer,' Sandra sauntered over to the sofa, 'I don't want anyone gettin' drunk and causing trouble! There's enough for a bit of a good time, and that's – oh!'
Sandra cut herself off, her large doe eyes fixing upon Joey and Martina, wide and surprised at whatever it was they were seeing.
'You've met, then?'
'Er…yeah,' Joey said, confused.
'More's the pity,' muttered Martina from beside him, but he could hear the undertone of jesting in her voice.
'Fancy that! I was just thinkin', I must introduce Martina to me friend Carol's cousin. When Beryl told me you'd finished with that horrible Shifty fella, I thought, well isn't that funny? I know a fella – finished with an awful woman himself so he'd understand – a good, upright, decent sort with a heart of gold…'
Joey was half taken aback at what he was hearing, the other half intensely flattered.
'Cheers for the character reference, Sand, but, er, we already –'
'—you know, nobody else understands what little animals go through the way our Joey does.'
Martina snorted something under her breath that sounded uncannily like is that so? while flicking his leather jacket with her free hand.
'He comes down to my dog shelter every week, you know. Puts in a few quid to take care of those poor little pups who haven't got a home to go to. He's a kindred spirit.'
'You don't know about Edgar, clearly.' Martina looked on the verge of bursting out laughing now, her snide asides a bit too audible now to be subtle. Joey elbowed her.
'You could take lessons from her, you know. Would it kill you to show a bit of appreciation now and again for my noble, self-sacrificin' ways?'
'I will when I see them, Mister Boswell.' She elbowed him back. 'But I'm not holdin' me breath.'
Sandra blinked at the overly familiar exchange.
'Oh – you do know each other, then?'
Martina smiled, a laugh still playing about her lips. 'Quite well, love, thank you. Oh, and, er – next time you want to meddle and fix people up, I'd think better of it.'
'They've managed that well enough on their own,' Beryl stood and slung an arm around Sandra's shoulders, guiding her away. ' 'ey up, Sand, I think we might be interruptin' something 'ere. Let them get on wi' it.'
'Don't you start,' Martina called after her, but they had already pranced off. She shook her head. 'Family, eh?'
'Believe me, sweetheart, she's beginner's level compared to my lot.'
'Hmm.'
'I'll introduce you to me cousin Lucien if you like – you think me and me brothers are rough to deal with, wait til you see him at your counter, wavin' his rabbit's foot in your face.'
'Doesn't surprise me. Only stands to reason the other Boswells out there fit the same mould. Bein' ratbags prob'ly runs in the family.'
'Not always the case, though, is it? Look at you and Beryl. I've never seen such little family resemblance between anyone! You're poles apart, the two of you.'
Martina's mouth pursed. 'Meaning?'
'Well…Beryl's a little ball of…fireworks,' Joey teased. 'Great fun, but you might get yourself a few third degree burns if you're not careful.'
'And what am I, then?'
Joey considered. 'You… are…a little snowflake.'
She arched an eyebrow. 'Oh, yeah?'
'Cold and frosty…but there's a beauty in that.' He leaned in, grinning naughtily. 'And one day, sweetheart, I'm gonna melt yer.'
'With your verbal flamethrower, no doubt,' she responded, making him chuckle.
'Oh well,' Joey slapped his thigh and stood up. 'Wanna dance?'
She recoiled as if she'd been shot in the chest, eyeing the hand he offered her suspiciously. 'What, now?'
'Yes.'
Martina's already furrowed brow furrowed further. 'With you?'
'That was implied, yes.'
She was hesitant, her body tensing. 'I'm not very good at that sort of thing, love.'
'What's to be good at? I'm not askin' you to memorise a routine, am I?'
'I don't like to.' Her cheeks were pink.
'Come on,' Joey nudged her. 'What's to be embarrassed about?' He jerked his head in the direction of Billy and Connie, who were still tearing up the floor like maniacs.
'If those two can make idiots of themselves in front of everyone all night, then you can make an idiot of yourself for five minutes with me.'
'Why are you so determined to humiliate me?'
'I don't want to humiliate you,' Joey said, mildly stung. 'I just wanna dance with you, sweetheart.'
The music blaring through the room changed, softer thrums and gentler singing filling the air.
'Come on,' Joey coaxed again. 'Slow song. Easy.'
'I'm dreading asking this, because I know the answer already – I'm not gonna get rid of you until I agree, am I?'
'No,' Joey said cheerfully. 'You should know that by now. I don't ever go away until you agree to things.'
'Which is how, one day, you'll end up campin' in the DSS for the rest of your life. You'll walk in with a claim so ridiculous I will never agree to it, and find yourself stuck waitin' for forms that'll never come.'
She gave him that stare, the one which could have them staring at each other as if it were a competition for who could blink first, but tonight, it was just making Joey smile.
Smile, and get the urge to grab her.
He grabbed her.
'Save the witty conversation for the DSS, sweetheart,' he said, getting her round the waist and hoisting her out of her seat. Joey knew he shouldn't resort to picking her up and carrying her around whenever she wouldn't cooperate with him, but she was so small and weighed practically nothing – it was too easy, it really was. 'It's dancing time now.'
'Oh, for God's sake, Joey!' Martina complained, her voice higher pitched and more childish than normal.
'Never heard you whinge before. You did just say, Martina, that you knew I was gonna hang around til you agreed to it. Might as well get it over with, eh, sunshine?'
'When you put it like that, how could I resist yer?' her normal sarky voice was back.
Joey set her down on her feet in the middle of the dancing throng, wrapping one arm around her waist to keep her from running, the other reaching up to take her hand, guiding it around his neck.
'Not so difficult, this, is it?' he said as they swayed slowly. Martina was embarrassed at first, her eyes refusing to meet his, but as they got into a bit of a rhythm, and one slow song melted into another, she relaxed in his arms.
'I'm good for you, you know, sweetheart,' he said conversationally.
'Oh, yeah?'
'I get you out of your little narrow-minded plastic box existence. Put some enjoyment in your life.'
'And what makes you think I'm enjoying meself now, Mister Boswell?'
Joey removed his hand from her waist to tap her nose. 'You're smiling. Proper smiling, I mean. Not the I'm out to get you one.'
She was, as a matter of fact – and it was truly lovely. She had a stunning natural smile. It didn't come out a lot, but when it did, it was as if the sun had emerged from behind the clouds. It changed her entire countenance, made her a completely different person.
On an impulse, Joey dipped her backwards, making her squeal in surprise.
'You see? What's there not to like about this?'
'All right, point taken.'
Joey lifted her and spun her around, pulling another squeak from her.
'And who says you're not good at it?'
'Point taken, I said, Mister Boswell.'
Even her attempted sternness wasn't hitting the mark. Things were going so well – Martina was relaxed, content, up close against his chest and not in the slightest bit perturbed by this, her arms round his neck. He slid his own hands from her hips to her lower back, smiling as she tightened her grip in response. All the signals she was giving off were indisputably in his favour; she was picking up everything he was putting down.
Joey let one of his hands slide down a bit further than perhaps he should have.
Martina didn't flinch, didn't miss a beat in their dance.
'I know what you're doin'.'
'I know you know what I'm doin',' Joey countered. 'I also know for a fact that you don't mind.'
'Oh, I don't, do I?'
He moved it even further down into very obviously not-being-a-gentleman territory, and, feeling brave, gave her a squeeze.
Her eyes widened.
'You're pushing it now.'
'Am I, though?' Joey could feel his tongue poking through his teeth as he grinned. 'I can't help but wonder just how far you'd let me go.'
'Bearing in mind, Joey, we are in public after all.'
'Oh? So in private it might be a different matter?'
'It might,' she smiled wickedly and Joey felt a tremor go through him, acting on instinct and pulling her as tightly against him as he dared.
'Why, Mister Boswell,' Martina purred, her face quite close to his collarbone, 'if you're tryin' to charm me, you're not exactly being subtle, are you?'
She turned her face up to look at him properly, her lips curving around her teeth in an unfairly sexy way, and for the second time that night Joey found himself taken by instinct, driven to lean down toward her and brush his lips toward her.
'Get in there, Joeyyyyy!' came a drunken shout from across the room, snapping him out of the seductive trance Martina had placed him into.
Joey whirled around to see Billy, grinning lecherously and all but falling down, his arm around Connie the only thing holding him up.
His little brother winked, then waved, then stumbled off, a little too unsteady in his walk to reassure Joey he wasn't going to trip and injure himself.
'I should probably go and sort him out,' Joey said apologetically.
'And I thought you said they could manage on their own.'
'I did, but…' his old instinct was kicking in, that ingrained desire to reach out and meddle, push his family back onto the (not exactly, but close enough) straight and narrow, take care of them. He wasn't supposed to be doing that anymore. He'd vowed he wouldn't. His frank discussion with his mam had laid down new boundaries his family were doing their utmost to adhere to – treat him like a brother, not a father – and they were, for the most part, flourishing. Without his help, they were being forced to stand on their own two feet, and they were all the better for it. And that meant he needed to treat himself like a brother, not a father, as well.
But a strange, selfish part of Joey still missed being needed, and a less selfish part of him still worried about them, even as he felt the familiar stress mounting inside him that seemed to trigger automatically when he went to worry about one of them.
'They're fine,' Martina murmured, her voice grounding him. 'Honestly, love. It's all right.' She jerked her head.
Billy and Connie were lying across the sofa Joey and Martina had vacated earlier, snogging for England. They looked happy enough, and while a part of Joey still wanted to go over there and tell his little brother off, he kept it at bay, turning back to Martina again.
'Where were we?'
'Hmm,' Martina hummed, sounding mildly disappointed. 'It's put you off. Worrying about your family. That's a shame,' her fingers were curling around the back of his neck, 'I was enjoying tormentin' you about that.'
'Enjoyin' tormenting me, or enjoyin' the effect you were having?'
Martina shrugged, smirking. 'Bit of both.'
That was all it took to return him to his earlier state. He wrapped his arm around her waist, wondering if he were to ask her to step outside with him, to grab her again and carry her to his Jag, if she'd let him take her there. A vision of her lying across the back seat pervaded his mind, so startlingly realistic, so powerful, that he gasped out loud.
'Had enough dancin' now?' He leaned in to whisper in her ear. 'In the vertical position, I mean.'
'Are you askin' what I think you're askin'?'
'Perhaps.' He shifted her onto his feet, just to give her a bit more height, bring her up closer to his level. His arm tightened around her lower back, holding her there.
'If Miss Martina does not object to me puttin' in a quick claim.'
He leaned his head down a little closer.
'That's a new one. Never heard it called that before.' Martina stretched her neck, inclining her head up to meet his. Joey felt a high voltage charge surge through him. It was as though he was holding a live wire in his arms, and electrons were running from Martina into him at lightning speed. He moved further down with the intent of connecting their lips.
'Eh! Joey!' the heavy hand on his shoulder had them both jumping apart. Billy was wobbling in front of him, and when Joey reached out to steady his little brother, Billy doubled over and vomited all over his shoe.
'Billy, I told you to steady on with the drinks! Bloody hell, son!'
Joey shook his foot. Great. He could feel it seeping in through the tongue of his shoe, dampening his sock.
'Joey, the room's spinning!'
'Oh, Billy!' He turned to Martina regretfully. 'Look, I'm sorry, but…'
'It's all right. You'd better take him home, love, before any harm comes to him.'
Joey's disappointment whistled out of him in a heavy out-breath.
'I'll see you later, okay?'
'All right,' Martina said, touching his arm. 'See yer.'
She turned, and was off through the throng, probably heading back to skulk now he wasn't there to force her to be sociable. And though he had to get Billy and Connie back before they caused any more trouble, he was loath to leave her – not when the evening had been set to end far differently.
'Martina!'
She whirled back around, her skirt swishing just enough that Joey could almost imagine he'd seen a bit further up it than he should have. He still remembered the sort of knickers she wore, could picture them on her now, underneath that dress.
'I'll see you later, okay?' It was as much a plea as a goodbye. It was one thing to have his plans to admit his feelings to her thwarted – disappointing though it was, she'd probably have caught on enough to understand that he would tell her at some point. But to have this sort of physical desire burning in his veins, knowing it was mutual and being prevented from acting on it at the last second was sheer hell.
'You've said that.'
'I mean…'
'Joey,' Martina said, wide-eyed and serious now. 'Get your brother 'ome.'
And she was gone again.
'Oooooh!' came a high-pitched two-man chorus from behind him.
Joey turned to Billie and Connie, pretending he hadn't noticed their catcall. As if his life wasn't enough of a joke, without this happening twice in the same day.
'Right, then. Let's get you two idiots home safe and sound, okay?'
'Aye aye, Sergeant,' Connie said, saluting him drunkenly, and then she cackled, and it set Billy off, even though he was still looking like he might vomit again. Joey rolled his eyes, put one arm round each of them and herded them towards the door.
'But if either of you are sick in me Jag,' he said, his voice a bit too cheerful to be genuine, 'I'll be leavin' you on the side of the road. Okay?'
Yeah I'm being pretty cruel, but we'll get there.
