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“I don’t mind.”
“You’re a good boy. I’m so lucky to have you. You could have gone bad like all the other boys around here with their drugs and goodness knows what else.”
That could have been me, easily. But I kept that to myself.
“Billy and I are heading to the city for a drink, then I’ll probably crash at his place.”
“I prefer that to you drinking and driving, love.” Worry swam in her eyes.
My mother hated me driving full stop. After sustaining life-changing injuries from that crash that had killed my father, she suffered anxiety just from being in a car. That was why I did her shopping and made sure she got to walk a little at the tiny park up the road. I’d even made her do rehab stretches, despite her protests, and was why I wanted to move her to Bridesmere—so I could monitor her health.
I loved my mother. It was just us. And even though she had my aunt and a couple of neighbours, she caught up with occasionally, my mum kept to herself. A big reader. She went through library books like no one I’d ever met. She loved murder mysteries. Our shelves were filled with Agatha Christie and P. D. James’s novels.
I ordered a delivery pizza, then kissed her cheek. “Okay then. You’re all set. Now promise me not to finish that entire bottle of wine.”
She returned a “who me?” look.
IpulledupoutsideBilly’s two-storey Peckham brick home, where he lived with his disabled mother. We shared that in common, only his mother was wheelchair bound after slipping on an escalator.
Despite having help, he was his mother’s carer. He never complained, and Sarah, his mum, could do most things for herself. She was tough and an inspiration.
Billy had his own space at the back of their house, which was where we hung out and where I crashed on our big nights out, since the cab ride was cheaper to his place whenever we hit the city.
He answered the door and stepped out. “Hey, ready for a big one?”
I nodded. “There’s a pint of Guinness with my name on it.”
We rode the tube to Piccadilly, then walked to our favourite pub for a few drinks before going to see a band. We preferred live gigs to clubs. Techno overwhelmed me with all those pulsing lights and digital music. We didn’t do drugs. Just booze. We shared lots in common like that and were the best of mates.
Bouncing along and joking, we were on Regent Street when I saw a girl with long, dark hair, tight white jeans, and the kind of body that sparked all kinds of dirty thoughts. As we neared, I saw it was Manon swanning along with another girl.
My heart picked up its pace, and again my brain went numb. All the blood must have drained from my head down to my dick.
“Oh, it’s you.” She forced a smile.
“Nice to see you, too, Manon.” I cocked my head and smiled.
I introduced her to Billy and back.
“This is Sapphire,” she said, introducing the pretty blonde girl, whose eyes remained on Billy’s a little longer than usual.
Popular with the girls, Billy, with that red hair, had a Prince Harry look about him, but with more muscles.
“So, where are you off to?” Manon asked, taking the lead as always, which suited me, given how tongue-tied she made me.
I looked at Billy as though I did not know.
Come on, some smooth talk, you fool.
“Um, we’re just off to a pub.”
She kept staring at me. I even wondered if I had a stain on my face or something. Or was she wanting an invitation?
“Why don’t you join us?” Billy suggested. He was always the one who pulled the chicks.
Good lad.
She turned to her blonde friend, who I imagined was not of drinking age, and Sapphire gave a nod to that suggestion.
