Yours Remotely

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 14

I didn’t hear from Joe – of course I didn’t. I was relieved. I had always thought that giving a man my phone number was the best way to get rid of him, once and for all.

The Remotes’ second album, ‘Remote Control’, came out on the 15th December. Because I still didn’t want to visit the shop where Joe worked, I looked at the CD in a supermarket, but I couldn’t open it for the alarms. On the front cover, the band posed against a white background. They were dressed in white shirts and black suits, but all their clothes were ripped and shreds were hanging from them. Gary was at the front, sideways to the camera but looking into it. Behind him was Alex with his arms crossed. He had grown a moustache. Jamie was squatting on the other side of Gary and slightly behind him. On Gary’s right was Mick, who stood leaning his chin on the fingers of his right hand. On the back cover, the band was still in the same clothes but pulling tug-of-war with an invisible opponent. The album had 11 tracks on it. I already knew ‘Favourites’, the first single, and the new single released simultaneously with the album called ‘We’re (Not) Gonna Make it”. I wasn’t going to buy the album. The band’s music was a chapter in itself, but it couldn’t be a part of my life. I didn’t think I could listen to Gary singing for approximately three-quarters of an hour. The only music I owned from the band was ‘Jetlag’, which I had bought, and ‘Liar’, which Gary had given me. Not that my lack of buying was going to make much of a difference. ‘Remote Control’ sold like hot cakes and not just in the UK either. My pen pal Anna’s letter arrived Christmas week, and she told me that the album had reached the top ten in Sweden and the show scheduled for the following summer had sold out quickly – but not before Anna had got her ticket.

The evening before Christmas Eve, around ten o’clock, I sat on the couch with a cup of tea. I was cold, probably because I was tired. Stomach cramps sent me messages that my hormones were active. I had been too tired to cook, so I had only eaten a plain ham and cheese sandwich. Suse, I presumed, was out celebrating the arrival of Christmas.

When my phone rang, I was mostly annoyed. I just wanted to be left alone and go to bed as soon as possible. Christmas Eve, although my shortest workday in the last week, was going to be tough. In the evening, my dad would pick me up to take me home for two days. The joys, a whole two days off work.

“Lea, are you home?” I heard Gary’s voice at the other end of the line.

The mug shook in my hand. There was such a thing as the magic of Christmas after all.

I said I was home and hurried to open the door, almost diving to it like a baseball player. I realised how horrid I looked. I was still in my worn and dusty work trousers, I had pulled a white angora jumper over my work shirt and had fluffy socks on my feet. I had dark circles around my eyes, and my limp and tired hair needed a cut. And behind my door was the seventh sexiest man in Britain.

I opened the door, and there he was. Blood, flesh and bone. And hair.

When Gary slipped inside, I certainly noticed his hair. He had had it cut. It was short on the sides and appeared to be his natural colour. In the middle, from between his eyes all the way to the back of his neck, his hair was longer, spiky and black. I had never seen anything like it – not even on Joe, who seemed to go from one mad haircut to another.

Gary had noticed my stare and grinned. “What do you think?”

I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak.

“It’s fresh. I had it done today. You’re one of the first to see it.”

“It’s different,” I finally said.

He nodded. “I can use it as a disguise for a couple of weeks. Nobody’s going to recognise me.”

I was about to say that his hair was sure to catch attention, but I didn’t. He must have thought it through.

I moved from the dimly-lit hall back into the sitting room with Gary at my heels. I sat down on the couch and wrapped my arms around my knees. I still felt cold and miserable although much better thanks to Gary’s arrival. He put the bag he had carried on his shoulder into the armchair and got out of his leather jacket and hoody. They both looked wet.

“Is it raining?” I asked when he was still arranging his clothes on the back of the armchair.

“Snowing.”

To my surprise, he started singing the well-known Christmas favourite, ‘Let It Snow!’ I knew that The Remotes had released it as the B-side to their last single. I had heard it on the radio a couple of times and adored how a traditional Christmas song could sound so like The Remotes when done right. I was more astounded that Gary was singing. He had never sung before when it was just the two of us.

He sat on the sofa, still singing. He pushed my knees aside and threw himself half on top of me to reach to kiss me. He kissed me long and passionately. He smelled of cold air and hair wax. Slowly, he moved down to kiss my neck. As much as I enjoyed it, I didn’t want to mislead him.

“Gary…” I started, but he didn’t react. “Gary, stop. You have to stop.” I was proud of my restraint.

“Why would I?” he whispered in my ear and had no intention of stopping. I put my hands on his shoulders to push him away.

“So that you don’t waste your time. It’s that time of the month.”

Gary muttered something less pleasant but sat up.

“I’m sorry.”

Gary raised his hand as if to brush his hair out of his face but realised that his long hair was gone. He sighed and looked at me. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

I knew it wasn’t my fault, but it was a setback to him. He had wasted a trip.

“But that’s why you’re here.”

Gary put his hand up to silence me. “I don’t come here just for sex.”

It was impossible to know what he meant; did he mean that he didn’t cover all that distance for s*x when it was available closer to home, or did he try to say that he visited me for reasons other than s*x?

“Lea, you have a lot more to give. You’re easy to talk to. You always have time to listen.” He leaned back on the sofa.

It seemed to me that Gary never spoke to me about anything. Perhaps he opened up to other people even less, as impossible as it seemed.

“But the s*x is a nice bonus.” He grinned and turned to look at me again. Then he shook his head and reached for his bag. He pulled out three DVDs.

“I guess we’ll have to think of something else to do. I just didn’t know what you’d like.”

He spread the films on the coffee table. There was a thriller, a comedy and an epic-looking fantasy that I had never heard of.

“But you didn’t know we would have to think of something else to do?”

He shrugged. “I thought, maybe, because it’s Christmas…” He pulled a pack of microwaveable popcorn out of the bag and – without singing, this time – quoted the relevant line from ‘Let It Snow!’ My surprise turned to amusement, but this was nothing yet. He also produced a bottle of champagne.

“Popcorn and champagne?” I sniggered.

Gary spread his arms in surrender. “I had already bought the champagne, but I grabbed the films and the popcorn on the way when I stopped to fill up.”

It sounded almost credible. I grabbed the popcorn and the champagne bottle and brought them to the kitchen.

I returned a few minutes later to find that Gary had turned off the lights, apart from a small table lamp. He raised the thriller to my eye level. “How about this one?”

I shrugged. I didn’t care about the film.

* * *

It was still early when I sensed movement in the room. I was too lazy to get up. Gary had probably just gone to the bathroom.

A couple of minutes later, I was still awake although only just. I felt the mattress dip behind my back and then the warmth of Gary on my skin. He leaned over to kiss my cheek. It felt strange not having his hair tickle me when he did that.

“Happy Christmas,” he whispered. A few seconds later, I heard the bedroom door and then the front door close.

I sat up and turned the light on. He was gone. The phone and watch on the other bedside table were gone. I raised my own phone towards my sleepy eyes. Five to seven. No point in going back to sleep for five minutes.

I had just got up and was making my way into the toilet when I heard the key in the door. Suse was home. When I walked into the sitting room, still yawning and wrapped up in my bath gown, Suse was in the kitchen making tea.

“Morning. Do you want some?” she asked, raising the kettle.

“Thanks.”

I walked over to the kitchen table. The morning news was showing on the TV in the corner of the room. Suse always liked to keep up-to-date.

“I met a strange-looking dude on the stairs. He had his hood up and sunglasses on. At seven in the morning when it’s still pitch-black.”

Her comment worried me. She had run into Gary who naturally hadn’t wanted to be seen in the stairwell of a random apartment block.

“Weirdo. Couldn’t live here. I hope not, I don’t want dodgy folks moving in here.” Suse didn’t expect an answer and started whistling something I didn’t recognise. She sat down next to me and pushed a mug towards me. “So, who’s your man then?” she asked, eyes bright with curiosity.

“What man? What makes you think someone was here?”

Suse laughed. “Well, you hardly drank champagne out of two glasses on your own!” She nodded towards the glasses and bottle still on the coffee table. My cheeks got warm. It wasn’t just Suse’s curiosity embarrassing me either; it was the memory of how gentle Gary had been with me the night before. It was as if I had suddenly been fragile and he had to treat me carefully. Yes, I got touchy during my period, but he couldn’t have known that. He had just been… Different. Evidently, he had a sensitive side.

“I don’t want to talk about it yet. It’s early days.”

Suse looked sceptical but shrugged. “As you wish. But don’t try to keep him a secret for too long.”

* * *

January arrived. It was quiet at work after Christmas, except the usual customers who didn’t know how to work their new phones. We had a jokey competition on who got the stupidest customer. Kevin won with an elderly lady who hadn’t thought of putting her SIM inside the phone and hadn’t even realised that she needed one.

It was one such day when Keith asked me to the office upstairs. A chat with the boss is usually a bad thing, but Keith was not a shouty boss. If he had something to complain about, he’d say it but in a civilised way. He didn’t usually ask us in for a chat, no matter how badly we had screwed up, so I was worried when I made my way upstairs. Linda’s horrified expression didn’t help.

Keith beckoned for me to sit down on the chair facing the desk. He asked if I wanted a cup of tea, and I said I did. My throat was dry.

He made us both tea and put the cups on the desk, on top of a plastic cover advertising Samsung. He leaned back in his comfortable-looking chair and looked at me thoughtfully. I felt even more nervous, and to cover it up, I took a sip of the hot tea. It burned my mouth, and when I panicked and swallowed, it burned my throat too.

“Lea, you’ve worked here for a long time. Over three years,” Keith started.

I nodded. Getting fired after all that time would be very inconvenient. What would I do? My previous work experience wouldn’t take me very far, and what were my chances of getting work in another phone store? How would I pay the rent? I didn’t want to move…

“Well, Lea, the thing is that Isabella and I want to make a life-long dream a reality. We’ve bought the Italian restaurant where we had our Christmas party. In fact, it was more or less clear by then. That also means that I haven’t got time for this.” His hand made a gesture that took in the office.

I was gripped by a deeper panic. He was going to close the store! After ten years, he was going to give up and close the business. It wasn’t going to be just me out of a job, but also Linda, Kevin and Sharon. We were all knee-deep in s**t.

“So, I wanted to suggest you for the manager’s position.” Keith left a dramatic pause, during which I stared at him with my mouth open, the mug of tea almost raised to my lips. “It’s by far the best option. I could hire an outsider, but you know the store, the business, the products, the market, the customers, more or less everything.” He looked at me expectantly, but I couldn’t speak. I put the mug on the desk without taking the sip I so longed for.

“I’ll give you way more money and better hours. Monday to Friday, nine to six, no weekends.” He looked up from the piece of paper where he had scribbled something. “Except at Christmas, of course. You know how it is.” He rolled his eyes. “We’ll need someone to take over your work. In fact, the ad is in the paper tomorrow.” He looked at me almost proudly. “So, what do you say?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. What could I say? No, thank you? Yes, please?

“I know you can do it. You have all the skills and experience you need. All you need to do is say yes.”

I was still staring at him. Then my brain kicked into action, and I felt joy running through my veins and a smile reaching my lips.

“Of course. Of course, I want to be the manager.”

Keith clapped his hands together.

“Excellent! That’s what I wanted to hear.” He drained his cup. “Let’s go downstairs and tell the others. Tomorrow, I’ll show you the couple of things you have to learn yet. I haven’t got the time today, but first thing tomorrow.”

He stood up and walked to the door which he opened for me, and I descended the narrow stairs. Linda’s eyes were wide with horror when I entered the shop. I tried to give her an encouraging smile, but that’s all I had time for before Keith showed up.

“Linda, Sharon,” Keith called. Sharon was due to go home in a few minutes, so she looked worried too. Childcare matters were always complicated.

“This is your new boss,” Keith said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Linda was so surprised that her hand flew to her mouth, and Sharon just stared at us looking puzzled. Keith started explaining, commencing with his half-Italian wife and how they had long harboured dreams to run a restaurant. I missed the rest of it when a customer entered the store, wanting a super phone with all the extras and at a low price.