It's my life...

Friday, June 16, 2006


I went back to college after a few days, guts knotted in case Ali’d spilled all that stuff I told her, and putting a face on it, zipped up tight. But things seemed the same as before, just the usual sideways looks I always get, no extra curiosity, so I got to thinking maybe she didn’t. Things’ve been quiet for a while, me with my head down trying to get on, pushing Danny to the back of my head, trying to avoid passing Andy’s flat. I’m keeping busy – Jo’s opening up Sundays now and leaves me to get the place in shape while she looks around the boot sales for stock. It’s all extra cash. Marz got Marco at the wine bar to take her back and seems to be trying to keep off the hard stuff, but I’m not convinced it’s possible working in that place. A lot of her old confidence has gone though. When I come in she’s always stuck to the mirror pulling at her eye-bags and slapping coverstick on the dark patches that seem to have got worse just lately – she calls them her liver spots. Her liver must be shrivelled up like a mummy’s after the gallons of booze she’s poured into herself all these years.

So, I’m just starting to relax, thinking maybe things aren’t so bad after all, then yesterday this weird thing happened. I’m walking home, wondering if I should call in and get some food at Tapan and Binita’s on the way, or if Marz has been shopping, Danny’s eyes when he saw me in the sari that first time floating in my head, when this voice says, ‘Jazz, mind if I walk a little way with you?’ and I turn sidways and it’s Ali and what can I say, cos she knows all this stuff about me that I’d rather she kept quiet? So I just nod, and we walk, and neither of us says anything for a bit, but it seems okay, as if we understand each other – almost. And I walk straight past Tapan and Binita’s without noticing and then I’m turning the key and we still haven’t said anything and she comes in and I think oh God Marz’ll be there and what’ll Ali think? but the flat’s empty. And I wonder what the hell’s going on – why I let her come, why she wanted to come – but I act cool even tho the flat’s like a bloody oven as Marz never opens a window. And I mumble something about making us some coffee but Ali follows me into the kitchen and when I’ve put the kettle on and get to wondering what to do or say she touches my shoulder and turns me round to face her. And she looks into my eyes, really looks, as if she wants to see right inside of me, wants to know everything and her eyes are a sort of hazel flecked with green and then. And then. And then I don’t know how it happens but her lips are soft and I’m thinking what the hell’s happening but it’s sort of nice and then her tongue is in my mouth and. And