Short story I originally wrote for a BBC writing competition. The story
had to have a symmetrical feel to the begin & the end. It's set in
the London of the swinging 1960's.
Chapter 1: The Park
Looking up, I watched the clouds
drifting over, blown by the wind from left to right. Some moved leisurely as if
out on a quite Sunday stroll, smaller clouds although still fluffy and white
darted about like little dogs let of their lead. As the wind picked up grey
clouds started infecting the white with their colour, like paint being mixed on
an artists’ pallet.
Sitting up I tuned my ears back to the girl lying next to me
and although I had daydreamed throughout much of her story it was well known to
me. Her father, a successful advertising executive, was still away in the United
States leaving her mother and sister to manage running the house on their own.
This I knew to be untrue as did most of her road, who had watched behind
twitching net curtains as the Police arrested her father for wife battery. I
mulled over whether to tell her this, but decided to leave her be for the
moment. Turning to look at her, the sun briefly shone through picking out her
profile and making a halo of her blonde hair. The oval face possessed a favorite feature, a dimpled chin, as I like a girl who possesses some
masculine of features. The girls’ best assets however were her legs, which were
long shapely and tanned. Looking at her naked thighs blossoming out of her mini
skirt, I noticed goose bumps starting to appear as the autumn wind blew coldly over
us. I wondered where her legs had got their tan this year, as a holiday without
her father’s income would have been impossible, and why I wondered had she tanned
her legs and not her face. Lighting two cigarettes, I put one into the girls’
mouth hoping to shut her up for a moment. Drawing deeply on her fag, she
exhaled two plumes of smoke from each nostril and carried straight on with
another story, this time about her big sisters’ boyfriend. Thinking about the
big sister, who I had only seen from a distance and so had not had the chance
to form a mental picture yet, I wondered who was the better looking.
The girl and I got up as she complained about the cold ground
and sat on one of the park benches. Peering around the park in the gloomy light
of dusk, I watched several dog owners walking their various mutts around the
parks’ central water fall, which was now switched off for the winter. The park
being a hangover from the Victorian days of council planning had neat rows of now
empty flowers beds laid out like a cemetery. Losing interest in this view I
started to think about the girls’ big sister. I didn’t know many facts about
her, apart from, she was older than me by a year or two and two she made a lot
of sexual noise with her boyfriend once they had crept up to her bedroom after a
night out. I had now discovered that their old dear was so spaced out on some
downers given to her by the doctor, that there was no real need to creep about
the house anyway. Making a mental note to nick some of these the next time I
was round their house, I suggested a coffee at the local café which at least
was warm and had a jukebox.
Chapter 2: The Café
Once in the
café the girl started to brighten up mainly due to the amount of attention her
legs were attracting. Most of the patrons’ at this time of day were the
unemployable, dossers and tramps. They all gawped at the sight of so much naked
flesh on display, licking the slack lips lustily of their open mouths. This
made me feel uncomfortable, but my companion lapped up all this attention and
actually seemed to enjoy the effect her skirt was having on these lowlifes. She was starting to make me feel sick.
Sitting down, I glanced around at an interior that had not
changed since the cafe had opened just after the war. It had been owned by an
ex-soldier and his war bride wife, who had decorated the place very
patriotically using pictures of Churchill and all that old rubbish. Now the ex-soldier
was dead leaving his wife to run a place which she had grown to hate, alone. As
her hatred had grown, so the café interior had gradually got darker, now the
walls and ceiling were totally nicotine brown and the lino was chipped, cracked
and missing in places. As our coffee arrived, I got up and put ‘Green Onions’
by Booker-T and the MG’s on the jukebox. This tune had become the unofficial Mod
anthem of that year, as the group being American where thought cooler than some
of our home grown bands. Sitting back down, the girl contemplated me as she
smoked another of my cigarettes.
“You’ve been very quiet all
afternoon, what’s the matter, you going off me?” She stubbed out her cigarette
and pushed the glass ashtray towards me.
“I’ve got a lot of things on my
mind,” I replied, distracted by the music now flowing out of the jukebox, “Work
and such,” I continued lamely.
Eying me with a sullen expression, the girl finished her coffee
with two large gulps, grasped her coat then stomped off out of the café. The
randy old farts watched as her legs disappeared out of the door. Turning to see
my reaction, each one avoided any eye contact with me, so quickly went back to
stare glumly at whatever the waitress had put in front of them. I continued to
sit quietly smoking and enjoy my music. With the tune over, I got up to pay and
realised I still had the girls’ purse in one of the zipped pockets of my Parker. I now had to get the purse back to her house, before going to watch my
beloved Fulham play our greatest rivals Chelsea at their manor, ‘The Bridge.’
Chapter 3 Big Sister
I knocked on the stained wooden
front door, which had a boot mark in the middle of it, like someone had tried
to kick it down. The door was opened slightly by the big sister. She peered
through the small gap with a badly bruised and half closed swollen right eye.
“Christ” I said, “What the hell
happened to you?” I followed this up with, “Sorry I just couldn’t help it.”
The big sister opened the door wider and sucked on a
cigarette. Her left eye was also badly swollen, probably from crying and
mascara had run down both of her cheeks.
“You had
better come in,” she said in a strained voice, made horse by crying. Moving
back into the hallway she turned and retreated into the darkened house. Taken
aback, I did as I was told and closing the door behind me followed after her
into the kitchen. We both sat down at the kitchen table which was littered with
the detritus of a night boozing and smoking.
“Look,” I
said, “you do know who I ‘am, you’ve not mistaken me for someone else?”
“No I
remember you,” she replied stubbing out her cigarette into an overflowing
ashtray, “you’ve been going out with our kid sister.”
I hadn’t been going out with the girl, but this was not the
moment to argue about it. The big sister was in some sort of shock, staring
glassy eyed passed my left shoulder towards the hall and front door. This gave
me the creeps, so getting up I poured fresh cold water into the kettle and put
it on the stove to boil. After opening most of the kitchen drawers, I found the
rubbish bags and put the contents littered on the kitchen table into one before
tying it up carefully. I took the bag out the back door and into the yard. I then
washed up the ashtrays and dirty glasses leaving them on the sideboard to drain.
I felt better moving about focusing my attention on something rather than
sitting still. Setting a cup of tea in front of the big sister, I put two big
spoons of sugar in it telling her to drink it, which to my surprise she did.
“Thank
you,” she said looking better, she even managed a half-smile.
Smiling back I gave her my handkerchief to wipe the mascara
off her face.
“I’ll ruin
it,” she looked at the pure white cotton now streaked with black.
“It’s a
shame to cover up a pretty face with makeup and tears,” I said.
I meant it as well, apart from the bruising and her swollen
eyes she was quite a looker. Her eyes
were a sort of green colour that I hadn’t seen before and she had the same
small dimple on her chin that the girl had. All of this made for an appealing
combination, even the bruises were starting to look sexy. So stretching out my
hand I gently caressed her unbruised cheek and gave her my version of a winning
smile. Dabbing at her face with my handkerchief, she took hold of my hand
giving it a squeeze.
“Why did
you come here today anyway?” she asked turning my hand over to look at the time
on my wrist watch. “Aren’t you going to watch the football today?”
“Yeah,
maybe,” I hesitated, “but I would like to know you’re going to be OK before going.”
As I was talking I took out the purse placing it on the table between us. “Your
sister stropped of out of the café this afternoon leaving her purse behind.”
She ignored the purse and still holding my hand, the big
sister got up from the table leading me back through the hall and up the stairs
to what must have been her bedroom. The room had been completely smashed up.
Glass and other debris lay all over the floor, bedroom cupboard doors had been
ripped of hinges and clothes thrown out and some had been ripped to shreds. The
big sister offered no explanation. Instead, still leading me by the hand took
me over to her bed and sat me down. Bending over me she tilted my chin gently
upwards and kissed me, sliding her tongue into my mouth as I kissed her back.
She started to remove my clothes and then hers all the while kissing me with
her eyes tight shut. I didn’t say one word and neither did she.
Afterward, I lit two cigarettes putting one of them in her
mouth she took a long pull on it and as she exhaled, said “Just like in the
movies.”
The front door slammed downstairs, I looked at the big
sister. “It’s OK I’ve locked my door. Feet came hurriedly pounding up the
stairs, the door handle moved downwards and then a rap on the door. “Can I come
in please,” said the girl.
The big sister put her finger to her lips, as I quietly got
dressed. After putting my Parker back on, she motioned to me to hand her a dressing
gown and slippers. Footsteps moved away from the bedroom door and I heard
another door slam shut.
Treading carefully over the glass toward the door she said,
“That’s the bathroom door, get out of the house now and I will see you tonight
outside the cinema at eight,” giving me a big wet kiss on the cheek, adding,
“if that’s OK with you?” giving me a proper smile for the first time.
I motioned that that was indeed OK, slipping out of the room
and then out of the house thoughts racing around my head. Walking away, I
looked up at the sky for the second time that day and wondered if those same
clouds would bring Fulham as much luck, as I’d had this afternoon.
