Yours Remotely

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 7

It’s strange how quickly you get used to having someone to spend time with and go out with. When Josh had only been gone a few days, during which I probably wouldn’t have seen him anyway, I started to get tired of sitting at home and asked Sinead to go out. She was surprised because it was midweek and she knew how busy we were at work and a little agitated because she would have to skip a visit to the gym. She agreed to go because that’s what good friends do, especially if a friend is in some sort of trouble. Sinead would have known that I was struggling with my separation anxiety.

I was just putting the final touches to my make-up when the doorbell rang. I was surprised because we had agreed to meet at our usual spot outside McDonald’s and Sinead was never early. With a sigh, I put the mascara brush back in its tube and grabbed the handset.

“I’m almost ready,” I said with a note of frustration.

“I didn’t know you were expecting me.”

Gary. I jumped so high that I was afraid the heels of my sandals would break off.

“I wasn’t, sorry… I was expecting someone else.”

“Ah”. Gary paused for a moment. “Well, if you were expecting someone else, I guess they must get priority.” He sounded disappointed but infuriatingly confident that I would not turn him away.

“No, no… I was just expecting Sinead. But she can wait.”

“At least let me in for a little while, Lea, it’s bloody freezing out here.”

I buzzed the door open, swung around towards the full-length mirror in the hall and checked my appearance. I looked over-dressed in my LBD and sandals. I realised that I would have to text Sinead. I opened the apartment door and was typing a text, saying that I had suddenly started getting sick, when Gary showed up at the top of the stairs.

It was no wonder he was cold. He was dressed the same way as when I’d last seen him on TV. When he came closer, I realised that the pattern on his tie was skulls. Gary stopped just outside the apartment door and looked me up and down.

“Are you sure you weren’t expecting me?”

“I didn’t have time to get changed after the doorbell rang,” I snapped. Then I realised I had been rude. “I was on my way out.”

Gary moved inside and closed the door. “I didn’t mean to ruin your plans. We can be quick about it,” he said with a glint in his eye.

I felt my cheeks redden as I shook my head. “I already cancelled.”

As if on cue, my phone beeped. Sinead was relieved I had cancelled because she would have been at least an hour late since she couldn’t find anything to wear. I relayed this to Gary, but he gave no reply. He took my wrist and led me into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around my waist and looked at me shamelessly. Shamelessness was no virtue of mine - or vice - and to avoid the awkwardness, I asked how he was.

He shook his head. “Alright. And you?” His fingers were slowly moving up and down my side.

“Same,” I said with an almost audible gulp. I was not used to being around men as irresistible as Gary.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, unable to bear the silence.

Gary grinned. “We’re on Christmas hols. We’ve nothing in our diary until after New Year. Then it gets busy.” His hands moved up to my shoulder blades. “As for here… I’m here purely for personal reasons.” There was a glimpse of another mischievous smile in his eyes.

“How did you get here? You didn’t take the train…”

Gary laughed. “The train would be a disaster. I drove here in my own car. It’s parked there around the corner.”

I pictured a bright red Beemer or black Jag in the car park next to my apartment block.

“Don’t worry, it’s going to blend in just fine. It’s a Punto.” Then his hands slid back down and ended up on my buttocks. “But Lea, what does one have to do around here to get some s*x?”

Despite my shyness, I picked up my courage and gently bit his earlobe. Gary let out a satisfied moan.

“That’s a good start,” he mumbled, pressed his lips to my neck and slipped a hand under my dress.

* * *

Later, we both sat in bed. Gary was telling me about his experiences in Europe. The band had toured extensively, particularly in Germany and other countries in Central Europe. He told me how he had added a few ruder words and sayings to the German vocabulary he had picked up at school and how he had completely forgotten what had happened in which city. On the other hand, he had liked Holland particularly well and had really taken a shine to Vienna. Before the band, he had only been to New York and Ireland. I had to admit that I hadn’t travelled extensively either.

I was just about to tell him about my holiday in France when Gary’s phone rang. He picked it up and answered with a plain hello.

“Not really. It’s kind of bad timing.” He listened for a while. “Something like it,” he said with a grin in my direction. “Sure. See you.” He put the phone down on the bed and stretched. “It was Jamie. Wanted to go out.”

“Is Jamie here?” I thought that The Remotes, apart from Mick, were from London.

“Not at all. Jamie thought I was in London and still does.” Gary looked thoughtful for a moment. “Actually, you’re the only one who knows I’m here. And I’d prefer to keep it that way.” He moved closer to me on the bed. “How can I bribe this woman to keep a secret?” His curious eyes scanned my face, and I felt his hand on my thigh. “With money?” he asked while moving his hand up my thigh. “Presents? Invitations to celebrity bashes?” He kept a close eye on my expressions but did not expect a reply, and I wasn’t going to give one. “s*x?” he finally suggested when his fingers reached my groin. He gazed into my eyes for a long time. “You don’t seem to mind either way. You can call me selfish, but I think I’ll go with my preferred option.”

I still didn’t need to give him an answer; I’m sure he soon realised he’d made the right choice.

* * *

“What the f**k…” were the first words I heard in the morning. Gary shot up when I turned the bedside lamp on. He raised his arm to cover his eyes and muttered something uncivilised.

“I have to go to work,” I explained. I got up, and when the cool air of the room gave me goosebumps, I realised I was still naked.

“Work?” Gary repeated as if I had used a word he had never heard before. He moved his arm a little and blinked, blinded by the light.

I was about to say that going to work was what we normal people did every day, but I didn’t get the chance.

“You can’t go to work,” he said, sitting up. The shorter bits of his hair gave him an adorable bedhead-look. “I can’t let you go to work, you’re too good-looking for that place.”

While I mumbled a thank you, I wondered how he could be his flirtatious self at seven in the morning.

“Pull a sickie. Call your boss and say you can’t go to work.”

I shook my head. Christmas was just over a week away, and pulling a sickie was not advisable.

“I’m a terrible liar.”

“Ah. Lying is easy.”

“And you’re a master liar, are you?” I asked while suspicion crept into my mind.

Gary shifted on the bed. “Lying is something musicians learn on the job. You don’t really think I mean everything I say in interviews?”

I was still considering my response when I heard the front door. Suse! Suse had stayed at Jonah’s for the night but had come home before going to work. I lowered my voice. “I have to go and see Suse. She’ll think that I’ve slept in and barge in to wake me up.”

I was still getting into my bathrobe while I rushed to the door. I found Suse in the kitchen pouring herself some OJ.

“Morning. I was just thinking you must have slept in. Juice?” she asked, grabbing another glass.

“I had slept in, actually. I only woke up when you slammed the door behind you.”

“See. Slamming doors is not all bad.” Suse grinned.

With Suse gone, I returned to the bedroom where Gary was still in bed and yawning widely.

“Can I use your shower?” he asked, pointing at the door to the en-suite.

I had nothing against it, and Gary got up and went into the bathroom, not bothering to pull on any clothes.

“Oh yeah… Can I ask for something else?” his head peered around the corner.

“Sure.”

“Could you make me a cup of tea? I don’t really get going until I’ve had a cuppa.”

I wanted to laugh. The thought that a young rock star needed a cup of tea to kick-start his day was comical.

“Sure,” I said again.

“Thanks. One sugar.”

After he disappeared, I opened the window and looked for my best work clothes. I didn’t want Gary to see me in a shapeless shirt and baggy trousers.

I got into the best clothes I found and made my way into the kitchen. I filled the kettle and turned it on. I looked for two matching, unchipped mugs and put a teabag in each with a spoonful of sugar. Spoons. Standing at the counter, I got restless. Now what? I couldn’t stand there like an i***t waiting for the water to boil.

Toast! The thought hit me like a dart hits a board. I took a plate and a loaf of bread from the press. I put two slices into the toaster and pulled the butter from the fridge and a knife from the drawer. Then I realised I was waiting again.

I turned towards the window and looked outside. It was raining. I looked at the neighbours’ windows and found myself staring at one of the windows of Josh’s apartment. Josh!

I was immediately gripped by panic, and I spun back towards the worktop. I was relieved to hear the click of the kettle, and the toast popped up at the same time. I loaded the toaster again and gratefully poured hot water into the teacups. I frantically stirred our teas - at least there were no crystals of sugar left at the bottom. I threw the teabags into the bin and sniffed at the milk carton suspiciously. I absolutely did not want gone-off milk in Gary’s tea, but judging by the smell, this was still usable.

I had just returned the milk to the fridge when I sensed movement in the sitting room. Gary stood beside the couch and was curiously looking around. I wanted him so much at that moment that I felt weak with desire. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans and was walking around in his bare feet. His hair was dripping water onto his skin and - without a doubt - also onto the floor. I grabbed the edge of the worktop with both hands to stop me pinching myself. What was this man doing in my apartment?

Gary noticed my staring but misunderstood or at least pretended to misunderstand it.

“You hadn’t given me a towel.”

He moved towards the kitchen and reached out for one of the teacups. I was too stumped to speak, but I managed to hand him his tea. I put mine on the kitchen table, and Gary obediently sat down at it.

“I made toast,” I said, returning to the kitchen to butter the fresh slices.

“You must have read my mind. I’m starving.”

I sat down on one of the free chairs and looked on as the first slice of toast disappeared into his mouth.

Gary wolfed down his first mouthful and laughed. “Don’t worry, there will be some left for you. But I do eat like a horse.”

To prove his point, he took the other half of the slice and pushed all of it into his mouth. I thought it wisest to eat at least one slice before it was too late.

During our plain breakfast, Gary questioned me on how long I had lived in my current flat, who with, how far it was from work, how long I had worked there and why I had stayed on that long. He confessed that his longest-standing job was a day shy of six months and that it had been in an amusement arcade. He’d left purely because he got fed up.

After breakfast, I got ready for work. Gary sat on the bed fiddling with his phone. When I took my coat, scarf and handbag from the wardrobe, he put his phone back down on the bedside table.

“Are you sure you have to go to work?” He threw his feet over the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

I met his pleading eyes. “Gary, it’s nearly Christmas. The busiest time of the year. Being sick at this time of the year doesn’t go down all that well.”

Gary picked his shirt up off the floor and started smoothing down the sleeves.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you don’t want me to remove some clothes rather than put more on?” A self-assured, cheeky smile flashed across his face.

“Positive. If I don’t leave within five minutes, I’ll miss the bus.”

“As you wish.”

In slow motion, Gary pushed his arms into the sleeves of his shirt and bent to pick his tie up off the floor. He wrapped it around his neck in a casual manner and stood up. He straightened his unbuttoned shirt and pushed the tie under the collar. When he moved towards me and I glimpsed some of his bare chest and abs under the shirt, I had a feeling that the move was well rehearsed although no less stirring for that.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, struggling to keep my eyes on his face.

He raised his eyebrows. “I thought I’d wait for the rush hour to pass, open the door, listen out for any movement in the stairway and then make a run for it.”

“So, you thought you’d stay here?”

“For a while, yeah. I’d stay longer if I had company.” He lifted one hand invitingly up to my neck. I took a strong hold of it and pushed it away.

“You’ll have to look for that elsewhere.”

I pulled my coat on before it was too late and made a move towards the door.

“You’re so cold,” Gary muttered and fell back onto the bed.

He didn’t respond when I said goodbye, and when I glanced at him from the door, he had grabbed his phone again as if he had already forgotten my existence.

* * *

I got home late that night. Although I had been wrecked after a long day at work, I had accepted Linda’s invitation to grab a bite and a few drinks. It seemed like a good idea because I had not wanted to sit in the apartment mulling over the events of the last 24 hours. In my tired state, two ciders affected me quickly, and I found myself staggering into my bedroom through a pitch-black hall.

Finally, my fingers reached the switch on the table lamp, and when light flooded the room, I saw it was already ten o’clock.

My eyes darted over the room, but all of Gary’s things were gone. Instead, there was something else on one of the bedside tables. I seized the small, navy envelope, barely bigger than an average credit card. I opened it, and inside was a ticket to attend the recording of The Remotes’ radio gig in London on the second Saturday in January.

I turned the envelope over. That’s when I saw the pen on the table - it was mine. On the front of the envelope, where the recipient would normally go, was one line.

“I only had the one.”

* * *

Christmas passed by as fast as ever, but not without some surprises. Gwen and Mark announced their big news; she was pregnant. The new arrival was expected in August, and the two of them were over the moon. Nobody had had a clue - except mum, who said she’d guessed something was going on but hadn’t wanted to say anything.

On Boxing night, I went to Sofie’s and Fiona’s as the custom was. I had hardly seen either of them after our summer holidays, which in Fiona’s case was a relief, but in Sofie’s case a disappointment.

I had lived in the foolish hope that Mick and Gary might be at the party. That was not the case although I gathered from overheard conversations that Mick had been invited. Somebody said that since he had become famous, Mick no longer had time to attend every opening of an envelope. I found it hard to picture Mick being like that, but I kept my opinions to myself.

I found it harder to swallow a few other comments that I heard about The Remotes and its members during the night. Like Sinead had said before, Mick Morrison was well known in the area and many at the party knew him. Mick’s lucky break in the music business was one of the hot topics. Many said that Mick no longer said hello to them, let alone spoke to them. A few gave their less than polite views on The Remotes’ album, and somebody even had the nerve to claim that Gary could not sing. His stage name was great material for jokes, somebody said Jamie was downright fat, and overall, The Remotes was the worst band of the year, if not of the decade. I had to stop myself from jumping on a table and shouting out my opinions, but somehow, I managed to control my tongue. I knew it was just bitter talk and envy, but I didn’t want to know. I kept looking for quiet corners, and when the topic of The Remotes came up, I either changed company or subject.

Instead of Gary, I had been blessed with Paul’s presence. I attempted willpower to make him awkward and hoped that he wouldn’t try to talk to me, but it didn’t work. Soon after he spotted me, he left the crowd he had been talking to and walked straight over to me.

Although we had nothing to say to each other, the conversation seemed to carry on. I knew where he was trying to steer the conversation, and at the first opportunity, I announced firmly but gently that I was seeing someone. It had the desired effect as Paul abandoned the attempt to chat me up as politely as he could. After he left, I was left on my own and wondered how conveniently I had remembered Josh when I wanted to get rid of an unwanted admirer even though I had completely forgotten his existence when Gary had shown up.

* * *

A few days after New Year, the moment I should have been waiting for arrived; Josh came back from his holidays. His plane landed around noon, but he had to wait for me to finish work before he could see me. As soon as he landed, he had texted me and asked me to get home as quick as I could. I did as I was told, and at ten past seven, I was ready, and a few minutes later the doorbell rang.

We had never intended to go out, but Josh had gone to get a Chinese. When he came in, he threw the bags on the dining table and scooped me up in a hug. He whispered that he’d missed me, and I muttered something in kind. I wasn’t exactly lying - it was good to see him, and I had missed our nights together. Josh was a nice, good man.

When Josh finally let go of me, we sat down to our dinner. We wolfed down our meals without much time for conversation. I dimmed down the lights, and all we had was romantic candlelight.

When we were both full of chicken, rice, vegetables and prawn crackers, we pushed our plates aside, and Josh started telling me about his holidays. The American Christmas was not entirely unfamiliar to me; I had seen it on TV and in films, but I still listened with interest. I was ashamed to hear that he had told his mother all about me. I hadn’t mentioned Josh to my family at all, except to Ben. I had a feeling I would have to tell Gwen soon, but the timing never seemed right.

Then Josh surprised me by pulling a small box wrapped in wine-red paper out of his pocket. At first, I was surprised, then touched and finally embarrassed. I had bought him nothing.

“Don’t worry, Lea, I wasn’t going to get you anything either, but I just came across it,” Josh said and patted the back of my hand.

I opened the box to find a cute necklace inside. It was a simple pendant, a lavender-coloured flower with a tiny little rock in the centre. Plain, just the way I liked my jewellery. I breathed a thank you and kissed him. Then I got up to make coffee and get some ice-cream out of the freezer. Maybe I just needed to appreciate him more.