Chapter Nine
One positive that arose from the fiasco of trying to record the week before, had been to rekindle my friendship with Dev. A companion that I had thought was dead and buried in the formalities of sick leave had risen once again. Even though I was not keen to admit it, I had missed him. We had shared so much of our former lives that I realised my existence was quite empty without him and his cheery down to earth ways were refreshing.
Therefore not even a week had passed before I called him; inviting him down to my parents for the day. He arrived, a smile on his face and a large bouquet of flowers in his arms for my mother, charming her with his cockney ways before joining me upstairs in my studio.
I lounged on the couch, using exhaustion as an excuse to dress informally in a pair of old sweatpants and the usual t-shirt, watching him as he prowled around the room, studying the pictures and articles on the walls, the composition at the piano and the books on the shelves.
"Cor, what's this?" He paused at an article stuck inside a clip frame.
"Dev, don't," I murmured wearily, too tired to argue properly. I had been over at the hospital the day before, for my usual session of body battering, as I had renamed my physiotherapy and as always was feeling drained with the effects.
"'Eric St. John with Creed, and their Brit award for Best Newcomer'" he read in mock serious tones. "Gin, they were shit, how did you ever manage to get them that?"
"Hmm, it was a studio produced album and the great British Public were ready for it at the time, that's all."
"What happened to them anyways?"
"Huh, oh they decided to try and break America, without my blessing and got swallowed up, they weren't good enough to compete with the rock talent out there. Probably cleaning swimming pools or something now."
"Yeah, probably. I can't believe you wore leather trousers to that party!"
"Humph," I grunted and leaned my head back against the cushions. "It was five years ago and it was a rock party, stop being so gay."
"No chance there pretty boy, you the one that looks gay in those," he laughed hoarsely and continued to wander around the room, keeping up his commentary regarding the pictures on the wall, usually to make sarcastic comments about them.
"Dev, would you bloody well stop it," I finally barked out after fifteen minutes of one-sided abuse.
"God Gin, you are in a bad mood," Dev finally came and sat opposite me on the piano stool. "Just having a reminisce. What's got into you?"
"A two hour car drive and an hour of physio," I bit back crankily, causing Devon to smile at me, flashing his gold-capped tooth.
"Well it's good to see that your moods haven't been affected. And here I was thinking a few months without coke in your system might do you some good. Guess I was wrong. Do you want some?" He started to reach inside his jacket causing me to sit up in alarm.
"Devon Saunders you did not bring drugs into my parent's house?" I practically yelled, leaping off the couch.
"What the fuck's got into you?" he paused. "Gin, you never said no to a line or two, what's the matter?" He looked slightly alarmed by my adverse reaction and dropped the packet back into his inner pocket, glancing warily at me and the frozen snarl my mouth was in.
I shuffled back on to the sofa and dropped my eyes in apology, forcing my face to relax, knowing that in my current state I probably looked rather frightening. "Dev, I don't do that anymore. I can't, take far too many prescription drugs to even dare. I've put all that behind me, it's too, too risky and besides I feel like I'd be abusing my parents trust to do so." I looked up and saw that he was assessing me carefully.
"You're not a teenager anymore Eric," he said slowly. It was one of the few occasions he had used my real name.
"No, but I have been near to hell and back and I don't want to go there again. Dev, do you know what my life has become, do you have any idea how shit it is?" I watched as he shook his head mutely. "I, I, I have to wear this godamn mask all the time, except when I am washing my body or exercising, I take all sorts of drugs and steroids just to stop me going out of my mind from itching. I am lucky to get a full night's unbroken sleep. I have to sleep with a clamp in my mouth to stop the skin around my mouth shrinking too much. I…." I trailed off the useless litany, realising that I was shaking and close to tears, worse then any come down I had ever had.
"Eric," Devon said quietly. "Mate, don't blame yourself, don't blame me neither. Look, I can't say I understand 'cause I don't, but I appreciate your position." His voice was soothing and calming, a tonic to my hypersensitive state and I started to relax. He wasn't too have known how I felt, what I had been through. The Eric St. John of old would have jumped at the chance to inhale Class A drugs. "Just don't wig out on me."
I frowned. "Wig out, what sort of phrase is that?"
"From America, some grunge band that we've been working with, they says it a lot." He imitated the west coast accent. "Hey don't wig out on me man."
I grunted with vague amusement. "I take it that they are those kids from Seattle we hunted down?"
"Yeah and EGA took all the credit for their discovery." He paused and looked at me, obviously worried about an adverse reaction again. "You know they are trying to pretend you're dead and buried?"
"I thought the flowers they sent me would look good on a grave," I muttered dryly. "Dev, they've been trying to get rid of me for ages. I was too much of a wildcard for them, could never dance to their song."
"They couldn't sing," he replied smiling at the poor joke, glad I wasn't going to erupt again. "So what's you gonna' do? Don't tell me start up another company?"
"I don't think it would be successful Dev," honesty seemed the best policy at this point. "You and I both know that looks are important in this game and this," I waved a hand at my plastic encased visage, "is not exactly going to have them flocking to me. I'm sorry Dev, but you still have a job, don't you? They aren't going to fire you on some jumped up stupid issue."
"Naah, far too valuable to them. I know too much, including whose shagging whom. Could make it very messy." I cracked a smile at his understated comment, remembering whom he turned up to the studios with.
"So are you sleeping with Elisa then?"
"What that little jumped up tart?" He sounded offended at my suggestion. "Sorry Gin, I know you had her, but since you left she got rather panicky, think she thought that without you she would drown and rather slept with anyone who could reassure her that it wasn't the case." I smiled again only this time grimly.
"It's my fault Dev, I took a naive little schoolgirl with a nice voice and told her she could have the world. Of course she would sleep with me after that."
"And you, um, deflowered her eighteen year old form?" I could hear the sarcasm in his voice.
"Well yeah, I think so, she um, well she said so." I found myself blushing. It was one thing to boast about my conquests down the pub, another entirely to talk with Dev about it in such an urban environment.
"Uh, uh" I registered Devon shaking his head. "She was pretending, that girl is the village bicycle, everyone's had a ride. My mum knows a friend of the families and she had such a reputation even then."
"Oh," I didn't know what to say. Elisa had never been my girlfriend, but the situation of our last night together had left an unsatisfactory end to the relationship. Usually when I slept with a woman, especially any I had nurtured through the production process, I made it quite clear that it ended once the record was released, for I would not chase around the country or the world after them.
Elisa had been different for I had launched her properly with her first release and then left her, as I had all her predecessors. However when she came back to record her second album we somehow rekindled our relationship. The night of my accident, we had been regularly meeting for over two months. No wonder she felt guilty when I had disappeared.
I realised in a flash of inspiration that I had possibly felt more for her then I let on. Not love, that was too deep; too heartfelt, but I did feel a need to protect her, to nurture her. Yet, when I compared this fledgling passion to the overwhelming love I felt for Ali it crumbled and disappeared under the weight.
"Gin mate, she insisted on coming to see you yesterday you know. Found out I was going and wouldn't let me leave without her. That's why I was so late. Bloody woman." He laughed at his description. "You didn't mind did you?"
"Hmm, not really, well not as much as I thought I would, although she managed to make me feel really shit about myself, calling me damaged."
"Called you what?"
"Damaged, like damaged goods I guessed. Not a very nice way to describe me is it? I prefer burnt to a crisp, or deeply roasted, thank you very much." My words were sarcastic, trying to hide the hurt her silly comment had caused.
"I still think 'Phantom of the Opera' would be a good one."
"Dev!" His name came out through gritted teeth. "No." He stared at me for a moment, his mouth twisted in thought, as if he were judging how far he could possibly push me before I would attack once again.
"What's that?" Obviously, he didn't trust my carefully reined in temper, his attention diverting instead to the small rubber soother that I had placed lovingly on the bookshelf.
"Oh, um, it's a dummy, one of my err, mother's friends children." I hastily improvised, the relationship sounded tenuous even to my ears."
"Your mother's, friend's cousins what?" Devon sounded confused. "So why's it up here? Seriously Gin, if you told me you had little kids running around your music room then I fink your brains been addled as well as your skin. You hate children."
"I don't," I replied weakly, realising that I always professed a profound dislike for them before.
"So calling them 'little shits' was a term of endearment then?"
"Yes," I lied blandly.
"Gin, you're a fucking awful liar mate." Devon cracked into hoarse laughter and after a moment I joined in, knowing that he spoke the truth. Until now mothers and babies had never even entered my consciousness, except to get in my way, usually when I was in a hurry. No, I had never claimed a love of children. My viewpoint had only changed recently. "So is it hers then?"
"What?" His simple question threw me.
"This baby, whose dummy that is. Is it Ali's baby?"
"Ali's baby? What? How do you know about Ali and Tess?" I stuttered, wondering in a rush of panic if my mother had chatted to him longer then I had realised. Did my old friend now know of my pathetic desire for this woman? We used to hunt females together and now I was left begging for scraps like a dog under a table.
"Whoa, Gin, calm down you're doing that wigging out fing again," Dev warned, holding his hands up in defeat and protection. "I know nofing about any Ali or Tess, but that was the name of the woman in the title of your music, yeah?"
"Oh yeah," I muttered, realising that I had given more of the game away then Dev knew. However he would sniff the rest out of me.
"The bet was Ali was your nurse, at the hospital, but I'm not sure. Unless it's your mother. Ali ain't your mother is she?"
I shook my head, a reluctant smile creeping across my lips, at his worried tone. "No, my mother's name is Helena."
"Phew, bit of a relief there, cause that is one sexual piece of music you've written and if that was your mother, I'd be worried. But it wasn't a nurse was it?" I shook my head again, remaining mute. "So who the bloody hell is it? There is such passion in it so it must be someone amazing and that someone has a kid, which is why you are displaying that dummy as if it were somfing of importance." He pointed a manicured finger at the object in question, a look of pride on his face at his detective work.
I remained silent, studying my blistered fingers objectively, wondering if they would write any more music. Just discussing Ali, talking about her as if she was a permanent feature in my life bought a glow to my emotions. "She's just a friend," I offered finally.
"Friend and you want her to be more."
"How the bloody hell do you know Dev, how do you know anything about how I feel," I bit out as he hit a sensitive nerve.
"You was always shit with women's emotions Gin, I doubt that's changed."
"For once you are right," I replied sarcastically. "Yes, her name is Ali and yes she has a baby daughter and no, she isn't interested in me and yes I am interested in her. Are you satisfied now?"
"Why ain't she interested in you?" he questioned.
"Because I look like a piece of charred meat," I roared back, leaping off the sofa again in frustration. I didn't like his line of questioning; it was worse then my mothers. I threw a snarl over at him as he sat on the piano stool, rubbing his chin with his hand as if he were a doctor about to pass a diagnosis, choosing to pace out my frustration.
"Did she say that? Did she say that she didn't want to go out with you because of the way you looked?" I stopped in my tracks and took a deep breath. I had always known Devon was tenacious, that was what had made him such a good assistant. I didn't enjoy being on the receiving end of it however.
"No," I replied with a sigh, bringing my hands up to massage my temples and ease the gathering pressure. It was a clumsily useless task. "She overheard me, I was talking with her daughter, well at her daughter really, as she is only five months old and I said that I loved her, to Tess that is, not Ali and," I shrugged, not knowing how to describe her reaction. "I suppose you can say she wigged out on me." I copied his latest phrase.
"So it was the thought of you loving her that scared her." More chin stroking as I paced past the piano, once, twice. "Where is the father of Tess then? I doubt he was there listening in."
"He abandoned her, before she was due to give birth. She's kind of alone."
"Gin, oh bloody hell, you've fallen in love with a pathetic woman. You trying to be her knight in shinning armour or what? How old is she, nineteen, twenty?" He started to laugh and the sound annoyed me intensely, it was so mocking of me, of Ali.
"She's actually twenty-eight," I said with as much certainty as I had, "and is a ballet dancer with the Royal Ballet, so she is hardly a pathetic case, just been dealt some bad blows. And no, I don't want to rescue her. We just got talking, in the coffee shop. She was the first person to talk to me in there, even though I've been going every day for the past four months. Do you have any idea what it is like to be invisible? Yet she singled me out and we got talking and she is lovely and talented and brave and…"
"You sound like my baby brofer." Devon interrupted my monologue. "In love with love."
"Why do you say that?" I demanded, leaning on the piano and fixing him with my stare.
"Eh," Devon looked slightly stunned at my intensity.
"You said I am in love with love and Ali said exactly the same thing. Why?"
"Well Gin mate, you've always been looking for her you know. I know what you said 'bout women only being good for one fing and all, but I always knew you was lying. All you've ever wanted is to find the perfect woman and have the perfect life. I mean, I understand, look at this place and how you grew up. Me, it was six of us kids in a council house in Bermondsey, so you know, not so desperate to recreate that. But you've grown up in the lap of luxury and have a really lovely mum. Not surprising you wants the same sort of life." He laughed. "I would want this life if it were mine." My jaw hung open in amazement, for I realised he had astutely pinpointed how I felt.
"Um yeah," It was true after all. If I was honest with myself, all my bland comments about loving women from afar and not wishing to be involved with them was because I simply wanted to settle down. I wanted my Victorian house with its large garden, I wanted rooms full of children, and I wanted the beautiful suburban life painted in a hundred adverts.
Yet the women that I met in my line of work rarely desired that. Instead they craved fame, fortune and glamour. It was easier to keep them at arms length and so I had cultivated an aura of mystery and desire around me that stopped them from loving me and more importantly; me from loving them.But if I stopped and thought about it I was more and more desperate to find that perfect someone and settle down with them. Having my features burnt off did not help my cause.
I gave a heartfelt sigh at the thought of sharing my life with Ali, could see what it would be like to have Tess toddling around the house. What a wonderful existence that would be.
"Gin?" Devon's voice interrupted my daydream. "What you thinking?"
"Nothing, nothing at all" I waved away my spaced out thoughts. "Listen, all this soul searching is making me starving, do you want some food?"
"Eat out or in? Could kill a pizza. Is there anywhere decent to eat in this suburban town?"
"Oh, um," I hesitated for I had not chosen to eat in a restaurant since the accident. The whole act of eating food was rather tedious, chewing alone a ritual of counting the bites of mastication. The coffee shop was the most I felt I could handle. "How about a sandwich and a coffee," I suggested instead. "I've switched from coke to caffeine as my new drug of choice." It was a rather lame joke and my old confidante stared at me with suspicion before agreeing without enthusiasm.
We strode into town, much to Devon's amusement, not understanding why the ten-minute walk could not be achieved much more quickly in his car. Yet the day was fresh and bright and after being cooped inside for so long composing, I craved the coolness of the day. Spring was defiantly starting to occur, the bulbs planted in swathes along the roadside starting to push their heads up, buds forming on the trees. I breathed it all in with a sense of satisfaction.
"Isn't it quite glorious out," I enthused, taking the day in through enhanced eyes, noting the swaths of crocus that were scattered over the lawn in the park.
"Um yeah," Devon's enthusiasm was cold as he looked around him. "So this is your life, where you grew up and all?"
"Yes, it is a really nice town."
"So d'you know lots of people here then. Is that why you don't want to come back to London?"
"Not anymore. Besides I was packed off to boarding school when I was thirteen, so lost contact with most people after that." I indicated the hopelessness of the situation with a shrug of my shoulders. "That's life really."
"Yeah, if you've got your sort of life. God I would have given anyfing to have gotten away from my brofers and sisters when I was younger. You don't know how lucky you are Gin."
"Yeah and I was desperate for brothers and sisters, so you always want what you haven't got." I smiled ruefully and picked up the pace of the walking, rushing on ahead and leaving my companion to breathlessly bring up the rear.
It was with good cheer that I sat down at the small table, a panini and a cup of coffee in front of me, trying to ignore the way Devon picked at his sandwich. Maybe I had lowered my standard for seeing the way he turned his nose up at the food made me angry.
Once upon a time, I suppose that I would have done the same, seen the whole place for the provincial backwater that it was, but now I was eager for my London friend to embrace it as I did and his lack of enthusiasm grated.
"Something wrong Dev?" I asked innocently having chewed a mouthful.
"Gin mate, why are we here? A few months ago you wouldn't 'ave been seen dead eating lunch in a place like this."
"It's good value for money."
"As if you have to worry about money! Look can't we just go for a pizza, I'm starving!" I swallowed the mouthful of bread, trying not to choke as the large lump made it's way down and gave a weary sigh.
"If you insist," I began in a pained voice, hoping that I could dissuade him, scared at being in such an enclosed place with people staring at me. At least here I could hide in my usual corner.
"I do yeah," he said roughly, pushing the uneaten food away from him and standing up, pushing his arms back into his coat. "You ain't half getting some foibles since being here. Come on." He barely waited for me to stand up before storming off through the door, pushing past the woman who was struggling in with a pushchair.
Chivalry dies hard and I stood back, holding the door open, allowing her to enter, annoyed at the rudeness of my friend. The woman automatically looked up in thanks, a smile spreading across her face as she glanced at my features. "Eric!" Startled by her friendly surprise and focusing on my friend it took me a second to realise that it was Ali with Tess in the pushchair.
I shot a pained glance at Devon who stood a picture of impatience on the pavement outside, his arms crossed against his chest as he tapped his foot.
"How are you?" she queried, noting my glance towards the man. "Were you about to leave with that chap?"
"Hmm, oh, yes well," I stumbled regaining the use of my voice, cursing the awkward situation that had occurred. "That is an old friend of mine who I work with, use to work with, um, we were just going out for lunch," I shook my head as the words came tumbling out, not knowing what to say. Ali simply looked amused.
"I don't want to keep you then, I was just going to have a coffee, it was nice almost talking to you."
"No wait," I grabbed her arm and to her amusement opened the door and started to pull her out with me. "Come with us, come to lunch. I am sure you haven't been out in ages."
"Eric, I can't af…"she started, bewildered by my erratic behaviour.
"Don't worry about that, it's Dev's shout. Devon." I turned my attention towards the man standing a couple of feet away; the expression on his face mirrored the confusion on Ali's. "This is Ali, I've invited her to join us for lunch," I introduced breathlessly. "Ali, this is Devon Saunders, a friend and one time assistant."
"Pleased to meet you," she said politely holding out her hand. Devon, a rouge twinkle in his eyes picked it up and bought the fingers to his lips, kissing them.
"Oh the pleasure's all mine," he said wickedly, shooting me a look having obviously figured out who this woman was. "You coming to lunch with us? How lovely, means I don't have to put up with his boring conversation. Hope you like pizza?"
"Well, yes, thank you very much, I do," she said with a slight giggle, looking at me with a frown creasing her forehead, confused and bemused by the charming cockney I was with. It was the usual reaction from people who met Devon for the first time.
We made an ungainly procession down the shopping precinct towards the restaurant, talking lightly of nothing in particular, Devon and I flanking Ali as she pushed the pram, her daughter fast asleep inside it.
The maitre de took us in with a glance, directing us to a table at the back with room for the unwieldy pushchair and a large potted plant that I positioned myself by, hoping that people would notice it's ugliness, rather then mine.
In the few minutes since they had made each other's acquaintance Devon and Ali seemed to have hit it off, chatting away like old friends, her laugh sprinkling the conversation with it's lightness. She was like a different woman from the one I knew. Maybe, I thought dourly it was my attitude rubbing off on her, maybe I bought her down.
She simply picked at the salad she ordered, whilst Devon devoured a huge pizza, before turning his sights on most of my uneaten plate of pasta, stealing bits of food off it, barely asking if I minded. I didn't in theory, it was more the way he ignored me in order to carry on his conversation with Ali that rankled. "No," I snapped, as he reached out a fork to spear another mouthful. "Devon, your manners are atrocious, stop eating my lunch." I sounded like my mother I reflected and could only assume that Ali thought the same as she looked at me, swallowing a smile.
"Gin mate, you have totally lost your sense of fun," my companion commented critically. "Your weren't bloody well eating it."
"Doesn't mean you can." I responded sourly. "You've even put Ali off her food."
"No, no," she hastened to correct me, waving her hands to show I was wrong. "I'm just trying to shed excess baby weight, before I do myself a serious injury." She laughed again.
"You don't look particularly heavy to me," Devon commented with his usual charming grin, causing me to sigh and raise my eyes to heaven.
"Trust me, I am for a dancer."
"Dancer? You didn't tell me you were a dancer." Devon shot me a look, a slight lifting of his mouth warning me not to interrupt. I sat back in my chair, vaguely amused, wanting to see what he was planning.
"Oh, um yeah, well I was, before Tess was born.
"How fascinating. Modern? Ballroom? Were you on Come Dancing?"
"No, ballet. I was with the Royal Ballet as an Artist." She smiled hesitantly, showing no signs of pride at her talent and achievement.
"Ballet, I'm a complete ballet nut. See most of 'em. Probably seen you. What you been in?" Devon flashed her a charming smile.
"Oh, gosh lots of things." Ali shrugged hesitantly. "The usual, Swan Lake, Nutcracker, Sleeping Beauty, Romeo and Juliet, but I doubt you would remember me against other of my tutu wearing friends. We are trained to act as one."
"Created anything? I go to quite a lot of stuff in the Linbury Theatre?"
"Really, um, well my partner James and I created a dance together called Positions of Love, but it was a workshop, you might not have seen it."
"Yeah, that rings a bell," Devon was looking at her intently with a slight frown on his face. I was totally amazed, having not realised that my friend was so into his dance. "Was you wearing a simple grey tunic and sort of twisting round each other, like in that phone advert, sort of dancing and embracing stuff."
"That's it, they actually took our dance as a basis for the advert, although they didn't give us any credit for it," she sighed. "But I dance under my real name which is why you probably find it difficult to make an association."
My ears pricked up at her words and I joined in the conversation. "Real name?"
"Well, Ali is my middle name and Christine is my first name, after my mother. Don't know why they bothered calling me that though because I've been known as Ali since I was born and my father was hardly going to call me by my first name if it reminds him of my mother is he?"
"So Ali is your middle name?" I asked in astonishment.
"Yes, Christine Alison de Theale, if you really must know. And what is yours?"
"Eric Michael St. John," I stupidly stuck out my hand as if introducing myself for the first time, causing Devon to snicker with laughter. Ali shook it.
"Please to meet you Eric Michael," she said seriously shaking my hand, before breaking into laughter. "You see what you can find out about people when you ask?" The question was aimed at me and I wondered if it was chastisement regarding our last meeting.
The moment of intimacy that we had found was broken by Tess waking up with a yell, demanding immediate attention. I watched as Ali, unable to comfort her and cheeks red with embarrassment fled outside, her hurried apology ringing in our ears as she raced home to feed and change her chid.
"Well," Dev settled back in his chair looking at me, as the dying echo of the babies screaming reverberated through the glass conservatory in which we sat.
"Well what?" I asked with a wary tone, wondering what his summary would be. It was defiantly not how I used to live me life.
"Shall we go back to yours? Could do with walking off my lunch." He patted his flat stomach before standing up with the groan of a hugely overweight person.
I waited with a degree of nervous anticipation as we strolled away from town and through the park, Dev not breaking his vow of silence.
"Are you going to bloody say something," I finally spat out.
"Huh?" He looked at me in confusion.
"What were you going to say? What do you think?" I nearly shouted in frustration, causing a dog walker to look at me nervously, noting my strange appearance.
"I think you are acting really strangely," he frowned. "What do I think about what?"
"About Ali, what do you think about here?" I was practically dancing around him in excitement, desperately wanting his nod of approval.
"Yeah, she seems really nice."
"Is that all you're going to say?"
"What more do you want me to say. Why do you cares what I fink Gin?"
"Because it's important to me," I bit out. "I feel for Ali like, well like nothing I've felt before, so I need your…" I trailed off, not sure what I wanted from Devon.
"Gin, you don't need my approval, if that's what you want. Yeah she's a nice girl, looked like a cute baby and all, even though it screamed. Why you even worried? It's not like you?"
He was right of course, bluntly so. "My situation is different, you can tell." I answered coldly. "So a little reassurance goes a long way."
"Fine then, go on you have my permission to court Christine Alison de Theale. Would you like that in writing? You know what Gin; she never knew what you were like before, so why worry. If she obviously likes you enough to talk to you, then you are in with as much of a chance as you'll ever be."
"But I look so ugly," I whined with worry.
"For fuck sake!" Devon exploded suddenly, causing me to stop in surprise. "You are one selfish bastard, you know that Eric St. John. Yeah you ain't in a good place at the moment, but you had it coming you know and you still have more support and love and help from you parents then most peoples I know. Learn what it's like not to have it all handed to you on a plate for once in your self-scented life."
"I am not selfish," I shouted back. "I care what is happening in the world, I worry about other things."
"Not as much as about yourself. You have gone through life leaving a trail of broken hearts and you never cared, dismissed then all. Do you know how many women I use to have field calls from, how many would try and come and see you in the offices? You have no bloody clue what it's like to be an ordinary person Gin. You've never been ordinary." He heaved a huge breath and glanced around, his face set into lines of anger.
It seemed that I had a talent for upsetting people, first Ali and now Devon. I could probably include my mother on the list as well; for I know her patience often wore thin.
"I" I paused, words failing me. It wasn't an apology that my friend was looking for, but I felt that I had to somehow make amends.
"Gin, don't say anything, just try and act on the advice," Devon replied, seeing that I was lost for what to say. "Look, just don't give up on Ali by pretending that she isn't interested in you because of the way you look okay. Just remember that some people, not all but some people can see beyond all that, okay?" He patted me on the shoulder awkwardly and I knew that he was embarrassed by his comments.
"Thanks Dev, I just needed to know, just needed to know if you think it is worth it, to preserve with Ali."
"Oh yeah mate, definitely," he laughed as we continued walking home. "Don't let that one slip from your grasp."
And so it was, with my friend's blessing that I gained my bed that night with a slightly lighter heart. I had managed to speak to Ali, in fact, she spoke to me and I had reassurance from a good friend that to go after Ali was the right thing to do.
In the darkness of the room I lay awake staring at the ceiling, seeing the coving mutate in the shadows of the room. "I love you Ali," I thought to myself. "I love you and I'm not going to give up."