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“I can hear Callum if I’m near enough. You, not so much and definitely not Felicity. For most women, it’s just noise.”
“My mum is deaf, she was born that way, it’s how I know.”
I wanted to sob, I could feel the pressure in my chest.
“Please tell him. I told him to always face you when he talks but not why. I won’t ever tell him, but I think you need to get your hearing tested properly and get hearing aids. They’ll help, and they’re free. There will be a time when you’ll truly need to hear someone. Don’t let that time happen the hard way,” he said. I hadn’t noticed him take my hands.
I stared at him dumbfounded. He squeezed my arm and headed back out onto the veranda. I didn’t want to get my hearing tested. I didn’t want to be deaf in my twenties. I remember when I had my hearing tested at six years old. It was the only time I thought my parents cared. I went to the Ear, Nose, and Throat hospital for testing. I had to listen to noises and place kids’ blocks in the coloured boxes each time I heard the beep. After four beeps I’d worked out the timings between the noises and put the blocks in the boxes correctly. They sent me away stating that there was nothing wrong. I thought it was a game to get one hundred percent. I’d already taken part in competitions at that age so thought this was another to get right. To please my parents.
Scottie took Felicity home after I took Felicity’s number and promised to call to meet for coffee.
Callum cleared away the dishes from the table until it was clear. I sat on his sofa thinking hard about what I’d decided to do and what Scottie had said. I wasn’t ready to tell Callum, I didn’t know what he meant to me. I had no idea if Callum had any feelings for me beyond our kiss. Torn between telling him, so he knew before he took things further and not telling him because I didn’t want to scare him off warred in my mind.
“Are you ok?” Callum said after he sat next to me on the sofa. He kept his hands in his lap, he didn’t look comfortable. I turned to face him, sitting crossed legged in my maxi dress. I looked at his beautiful face for a few moments. I loved that his eyelashes were dark but the stubble forming on his scalp was reddish blonde. If his eyebrows were any sign, he was fair-haired. My hand stroked the stubble on his head, I loved the feeling on my palm.
“I’m trying not to purr like a cat, but that feels fantastic,” he said. He moved his head under my hand to make sure I touched all of his head.
“I don’t know if I can accept all the help that was offered this evening,” I said.
I fiddled with his bracelet while I waited for his reply.
“Then don’t. If you don’t want to open the shop, you need to say now. We are all on board, but it will be a waste of time if it's not what you want.”
“I want it, I do,” I said, I had no more words. I had no reason not to work my arse off to make this work. Apart from my impending departure to Hong Kong but I wouldn’t be away for long. My seller for the magazine I needed, wanted to meet in person. He wasn’t prepared to ship it over.
“Then stop saying no, say yes,” he whispered as I looked at his lips. I wanted to kiss him again.
“Ok,” I said and leant down to press my lips to his. I pulled away from the chaste kiss and left him on the sofa with his mouth wide open. “Goodnight, Callum,” I said and disappeared into my flat.
Adaline
The traffic was horrendous, I’d left the Empire Hotel twenty minutes ago but was still weaving in and out of the traffic. The swathes of students demonstrating about student loans had brought the city centre to a standstill. I gave up stopping and starting and got off the bike. Jogging across the zebra crossing with my bike I stood in the central reservation until the other side of the road was clear. It was a hot day, and the sweat was dripping down my back. While I waited for the cars to stop, I leant against the Belisha beacon post in the middle of the road. I didn’t see the motorcycle or hear him.
The first time I noticed his presence was when he hit the wheel of my bike that then crushed me against the post. He swerved three times and wobbled for a few more moments until he straightened his bike, narrowly missing a few stationary cars. My right leg and hip stung like mad, I swear I had a perfect outline of a wheel on my bare leg. I looked to see if I could limp across the road to find that the traffic had stopped on the other side of the road. A builder’s van was at the front with the man sticking his head out of the side window.
“You all right, love?” He yelled.
I nodded numbly, willing myself not to cry. There was no way I would cry in front of the builders. The motorcycle hadn’t stopped. Several people in open topped cars called out to see if I was ok. I clutched the handlebars tighter willing the tears to go away. I would not cry in front of the drivers. I limped pathetically across the road and waved my thanks at the cars. Hurrying along the path and then up the street that lead to my flat, I had to half drag my bike. The tyre had punctured from the bent frame of the back wheel and my leg was sore. I glanced down to see blood trickling lightly down my calf. It smeared with the black oil from my bike. I couldn’t believe the motorbike didn’t stop and check I was ok, what a dickhead. There were enough cameras in Brighton that I didn’t worry too much. If I reported the incident, the police could track him by his number plate.
The humiliation settled in my mind and fury bubbled in my chest. I tossed the bike in the backyard and slammed the door. Trudging back to the front door of the shop, I walked in to find Callum standing in the centre of the room scratching his head. He’d cleared the floor space and put up a temporary table with the plans he had for the shop, and Scottie was nowhere to be seen. Callum turned when I limped in and stood at the end of the table.
“I’m not sure we should put the cashier’s desk at the back of the shop. I think it should be on the side, what do you think?” Callum asked.
He looked up when I didn’t answer, I hadn’t understood what he’d said. I stood marvelling at his beauty. I ached to be held. I hurt all over. When he stopped chattering on and looked me over, he took a sharp breath in when he saw the blood. I trembled on the spot, and then I burst into tears.
“What the fuck happened?” He asked. He was two strides away.
“A fucking motorcyclist used me as target practice,” I said through my sobs.
He was on his knees by my side in a flash, checking my wounds. I winced as he gently touched the scrapes and forming bruises.
“You got knocked over?”
“I got knocked into. A motorcyclist wasn’t paying attention trying to navigate the stationary traffic. He hit my bike which then squashed me against a pole. If the pole hadn’t been there, I’d be worse off.”
My hands held my face as I blubbered my way through what happened.
Callum went to the front door and locked it, then he picked me up and carried me up the stairs and into his flat. Sitting me on the kitchen countertop, he wagged his finger at me in warning not to move. Callum marched out of his kitchen and was back moments later with a cloth, a bowl of liquid and a tube of cream. He had kissed my forehead before he got to work cleaning my scrapes. The volume of blood looked worse than it was, but the bruises were already showing. My left hip, which hit the post was throbbing. While he looked at my right bloodied leg, I unzipped my shorts to take a look at my hip. It was red and angry from being banged against the metal.
