Forever Is Over (119 page)

Kelly looked at me like a puppy begging for a biscuit.

“
Ten more minutes?
”

“
Five
…
hang on, what
’
s that on your nose, Kel?
”
I could see instant panic setting in on Kelly
’
s face.

“
Roddy, what is it? Is it snot?
”

“
Snot! Why would it be snot?
”

“
I get hayfever! I blew my nose before, did I leave some on my
face?
”

“
Yes, you did!
”

“
Shit! Where is it? On this side?
”

Kelly ran one of her fingers down the left side of her nose.
“
No, no, it
’
s
on the tip.
”

Kelly continued to search with her finger.

“
Where Roddy? I can
’
t feel it! Blo
ody typical this! I am about to
see the love of my life for the first time in years and the first thing he
’
s
going to see is a big bogey dripping off the end of my nose!
”

“
Do you want me to get it?
”

“
No I do not!
”
Kelly stated firmly.

“
Why?
”

“
It
’
s a bogey! My bogey! It would feel wrong you getting it. You
’
ll
be offering to wipe me after I
’
ve had a wee soon!.
”

Kelly was like the Queen to me in this sense, in that I did not like
to entertain the idea of her having a wee.

“
I don
’
t think I will. I
’
ll get that bogey though! Come here!
”

“
No! Roddy Baker leave my snot alone!
”

I tried to grab Kelly and she dodged me playfully. I pursued her
long enough to get her in a playful bear hug and she giggled, a little
hysterically, then, out of the blue, things turned serious.
”

“
Roddy, stop!
”

“
It
’
ll be off in a second.
”

“
No, seriously, STOP.
”

“
Why?
”

I turned to look over my shoulder. In the distance, I could see
someone approaching from the top of the road, down the hill, a couple
of hundred metres away. Even from a distance away, you could see he
was tall, presumably good looking and attractive.

“
Is that him?
”
I whispered as though he was two metres away.

“
I think so.
”
Kelly whispered back,
“
have I still got snot on my nose?
”

“
No.
”

“
Did I get it off ?
”

“
No.
”

“
How come?
”

“
There was no snot. I was just getting bored, so I invented it
…
are
you OK?
”

“
I
’
m crapping myself. What am I going to say to him?
”

“
You can start by saying
‘
hello
’
!
”

“
It
’
s pearls of wisdom like that which convince me I was right to
bring you!
”

“
Don
’
t insult me or you
’
ll have my snot on you in a minute. Shall
we stop whispering?
”

“
OK.
”

Kelly still whispered her OK, but I resumed normal tones.

“
I thought you said he was a big bloke, he only looks about an inch
tall!
”

I made a gap between two of my fingers, closed one eye and showed
Kelly how he could fit between them.

“
Very funny! Somehow I think he might grow to over six feet tall
in a minute.
”

“
Really? You best watch out, Kelly, if he keeps growing at that rate,
he
’
ll be as big as King Kong by the end of the day. He
’
ll have you in one
of his hands and there
’
ll be a load of two seater planes flying round his
head on the Sunny Road!
”

Sometimes Kelly didn
’
t understand my sarcastic humour.

“
What?
”

“
Have you never seen the 1930
’
s Kong film with him battling planes
from on top of the Empire State building?
”

“
No.
”

“
You haven
’
t lived!
”

”
Roddy, can you just be serious for a minute and show me some
support. He
’
s getting closer, is it too late to run?
”

I would have loved it if Kelly had run, but I knew those words would
never become an action.

“
Deep breaths, Kelly! Deep breaths!
”

“
Do you think this is one big mistake, Roddy?
”

I could have been vindictive, but it wasn
’
t in my nature, especially
where Kelly was concerned. Something within me would always prevent
me from doing anything to upset that girl. Nothing has changed
there!

“
No, Kelly it
’
s not a mistake. You
’
ve said yourself, it
’
s something
you have needed to do. You have felt the need to see Richie again and
here he comes!
”

“
Thank you, Roddy!
”

“
What for?
”

“
For being you. For being the best friend a girl could have.
”

I was beginning to accept that
’
s all we would ever be. Just good
friends.

“
No problem. It
’
s time for me to make a sharp exit!
”

Kelly tried to cling on to my arm.

“
No, Roddy, don
’
t go! I need you here!
”

“
No you don
’
t Kelly, you
’
re a big girl now.
”

“
Well, at least stay and say hello.
”

“
No.
”

“
Why?
”

“
Kelly, this isn
’
t about me, it
’
s about you and Richie. I need to leave
you to sort this out for yourself. Good luck Kelly!
”

I headed off in the opposite direction from which Richie was arriving.
In truth, from my perspective, it was not about Kelly and Richie at all,
it was just about me! I was trying to look and sound magnanimous, but
really I just didn
’
t want to meet Richie Billingham. I was happy with
the mental image I had created of
“
Dick
”
, good looking but vain and
self-obsessed and I knew it would be harder to character assassinate if
I genuinely liked him. Rather than take the chance, I scarpered. That
was one reason anyway, the other was more obvious, it would have
broken my heart to see Kelly, the girl I worshipped, being romantic and
affectionate with anyone other than me.

When I was a child, my Dad, now dearly departed, used to sing a
song to me every time I was feeling a little low. It was called
“
Spread
A Little Happiness
”
, Sting did a version of it in the eighties, but my
Dad told me that it was originally from the twenties, from a musical his
grandfather had seen called Mr. Cinders. My Dad
’
s grandfather used to
sing it to his Dad, my grandfather used t
o sing it to my Dad and when I
was a kid,
Dad sang it to me. O
ne day,
I
’
ll be singing it to my own children
,
to keep up the
“
Baker
”
tradition. Anyway, the reason
I
’
m telling you this, is that on my way back to the hotel, from Kelly
’
s
‘
Sunny Road
’
, I sang that song to myself
to try to cheer myself up. It
worked a little, but not a huge amount. Only Kelly could have blown
away my bad mood and patched up my broken heart, but way back then,
to be frank she just didn
’
t want to. All hope seemed lost. I was pretty sure on that depressing trek back to the hotel, that Kelly Watkinson
would never be mine.

Melissa was always smart beyond her years. When it was time for
her to start school, she was more than ready. Nurse
ry had been good for
her, as she had been a very clin
gy child at first, frightened by
the idea of
spending time away from her Mummy with strange adults and children
who did not understand the concept of sharing, but she adjusted. It was a
slow process, but six months into nursery, the tears stopped and Melissa
began skipping in, every morning.

By Easter of her second and final year at nursery, things began to
change, as Melissa began to find it less challenging.

“
I
’
m bored of playing baby games with the little ones
”
, Melissa
announced one day on our journey home,
“
I
’
m a big girl now!
”

             
The lack of mental challenges was not the sole reason that Melissa
fell out of love with nursery. A second reason was the company she had
to keep there. Jamie, her younger brother, had started and even in those
formative years, Melissa had deduced that any place Jamie was, was not
a cool place to be! Jamie was not smart beyond his years! He was smart
enough to know how to cause trouble, but not clever enough to know
when to stop! Prior to Jamie starting at nursery, toddler group had been
an embarrassment, as he bit his way through more children than any
child since Vlad the Impaler
’
s pre-school days, but no amount of telling
off or solitary confinement in his room or on the
‘
naughty step
’
led to
a realisation that his behaviour needed to change. The aforementioned
biting was often accompanied by kicking, pushing and even punching,
which led to mothers aiming looks at me that should only have been
directed at sluts and whores! I was just a mother of a poorly behaved
child! It was not my fault
…
or maybe it was, I was consumed with guilt
that it was my genes that were the issue. Melissa was kind, caring and
intelligent, like Richie, maybe Jamie was strong minded,
stubborn and
troublesome, like me or even more scarily like my mother! I bet Vomit
Breath had sunk her yellow gnashers into a fair amount of flesh over
the years! Maybe Jamie was becoming a mini Vomit Breath. Now that
was an uncomfortable thought.