Heart of Glass (22 page)

Phil nodded, “It’s very
Madonna.”

Dean’s look was somber as I
reached where he stood and wrapped my arms around him, waiting for
his hug in return.

“
Hey sweetie, I’ve missed
you these past three weeks.”

His face slid into a moody
grimace. “What the hell is with the hair and clothes?”

“
Thanks Dean, it’s nice to
see you too.”

“
Don’t be sarcastic, it
doesn’t suit you. You look like a drug addict.”

My temper bubbled. Was he
blind? Couldn’t he see half the girls in the room were dressed the
same way?

“
Oh, well, bingo! That’s
the look I was going for. Maybe I could lend you some kohl and we
could be a matching pair? You know, like Sid and Nancy?”

He looked at me
blankly.

“
You know…Sex
Pistols?”

The boys sniggered behind
his back. In a war of wit, he could never win.

“
You’re kidding, right? You
want to look like a slut?”

I pressed my lips together,
trying to hold my tongue. “No, I want to look like an idiot, so I
can be just like you.”

“
The whole bar is staring
at you. Nick was drooling so much he needed a bib.”

I held my breath and counted
to ten. “You should be happy that other men like the way I look if
I’m you’re girlfriend. I certainly have no problems with other
girls looking at you, not that they ever do because you look so
extremely nerdish.”

“
Well fuck you, too,” he
said, slamming his glass to the table and making me
jump.

“
Hey. Dean. Man. Settle
down,” Justin said, moving to our side of the table putting his
hand onto the other boy’s shoulder.

“
Stay out of it Justin,
it’s got nothing to do with you.”

The bar had gone silent,
everyone was looking at us. Even Nick had stopped wiping
glasses.

“
But it does. You’re
upsetting Bella and you’re causing a scene,” Justin
said.

Dean’s face was fiery. His
hands were shaking. Taking my elbow, he tried to shove me towards
the door. “Let’s go outside where we can talk.”

“
I don’t want to talk. I’m
quite happy with the way I look and I’m not going to be dictated to
by you. If you don’t like it then I suggest you leave. In the words
of the great scholar ‘fuck you!’ too. ”

I picked up my wine, my
expression composed; ignoring the fact that Dean was standing
beside me. The boys looked at each other and went back to their
game of pool. Dean’s behaviour was embarrassing, but they weren’t
about to point it out. From the look on his face, he already knew
he’d behaved like a jerk.

“
If that’s the way you
feel, then, I guess I’ll go, I have more study to do anyway,” he
said. “I might give you a call later.”

I shrugged and turned away
as he walked out the door. Hopefully, hell would freeze over
first.

After a couple of games, and
a round of drinks, normality returned to our little group. Dean had
gone. I was unsure if this meant the end of our relationship or if
he was just in a bad mood. Either way, I sensed the end was around
the corner. We couldn’t go on like this with him trying to mould me
to his ways and me refusing to tow the line.

It was only minutes before
Nick appeared, doing his best to soothe my frayed nerves by handing
me a cocktail and enveloping me in his strong arms.

“
It’s a Flaming
Lover,
Cara,
” he
grinned.

“
Very funny.”

Nick squeezed me tight, a
reassuring gesture as he went back to his work, “I told you he was
a weasel. Make sure you blow that out before you drink it. We
wouldn’t want you to scorch your pretty lips.”

Nursing my drink, I frowned.
If I’d had known a new hairdo would cause this much trouble I would
never have bothered.

“
I don’t understand Dean at
all,” I said.

Coops put down his cue. “He
doesn’t like you flirting, Bel’. You walked in here tonight and
every eye was on you. You flirted with Nick, you pinched my arse
and you hardly gave Dean the time of day. He’s jealous. It has
nothing to do with the new hair or clothes.”

“
Am I really that bad?” I
sat gloomily for a minute, my face pensive as I thought about what
Coops had said. I’d never considered how other people viewed my
behaviour. I was affectionate, but maybe others didn’t understand
that. Ben had said I was a tease, it used to drive him crazy and
both Nick and Coops had accused me of flirting and teasing on
different occasions. I wanted to cry into my drink but it would
have been such a waste.

“
Who’s for a change of
scenery?’ Justin asked, looping his arm around my shoulder. “Lush
is playing at the Ocean Inn.”

My mood was instantly
lightened. “Ooh yes…..I love that place! It’s like a
dungeon.”

Phil snorted, “Humph. Beats
me why anyone would want to stand around cramped like sardines in a
can, listening to loud music and drinking till they fall over, but
let’s get it over with.”

I shook my head, bemused.
Sometimes it was so hard to tell when Phil was taking the
piss.

***

It seemed the whole town had
heard about Lush and it took a good twenty minutes for us to make
out way to the front of the queue. The music in the main room was
deafening rock so Coops and I headed straight for the dance floor,
while Justin and Phil went to get the drinks. I waved them a fond
farewell. From the look of the crowd at the bar they wouldn’t
return until I had my degree.

Finally served, the boys
squeezed their way through the heaving blackness, to a space up the
front, near where Coops and I were dancing. It was a precarious
balancing act, but they managed to set all the drinks on a thin
shelf, without spilling a drop.

“
Shit, it’s crowded,” Phil
said.

It was an understatement, to
say the least.

The floor, sagging after two
hundred years of use, had a mind of it’s own and every one was
bouncing up and down, though not intentionally. It wasn’t a good
place to stand if you liked to drink your drink rather than wear
it, but it was the closest spot to the dance floor.

“
I swear this floor is
getting worse every time we come here,” I laughed, “One night I’m
gonna bounce right through it.”

“
It’s excellent how you can
just stand and do nothing yet look as if you’re dancing,” Coops
yelled in my ear.

A familiar keyboard riff
wafted through the air, as the band began a cover of The Doors
classic ‘Light my Fire.’ The singer’s voice was gravelly, a ‘pack a
day’ gravelly, but perfectly attuned to the sensuousness of the
song. He sang as if he wanted every woman in the room.

“
God, this band is
awesome.”

“
Good, aren’t
they?”

I turned to face the stage,
and that was when I saw him. The Lizard King. My eyes bulged. My
mouth went dry. Involuntarily, I licked my lips. He was divine. His
hair hung, blue black, in tiny matted dreadlocks around his face.
His strong arrogant jaw was covered with a smattering of dark
stubble and he wore a thong of leather knots at his throat. His
lips were plump, as they kissed the microphone and I pondered how
it would feel if they kissed me. But his eyes…his eyes were the
darkest brown I had ever seen, almost black, and tinged with
shadows underneath. They were magnetic.

“
He was in my class at high
school,” Coops nodded, noticing my attention.

“
Could you introduce
me?”

“
Oh no. Not this time, he’s
bad news. You stay away. Besides you promised us you’d go easy on
the flirting. Remember?”

“
I’m not going to flirt, I
just want to say ‘hi’.” There was something about him, something
raw and animalistic, that made me want to know more. I wanted to
know if he was as dark as he seemed.

Justin slapped my shoulder.
“Stop it, you’re drooling.”

“
I’m not!”

“
Yes, you are and I’m
telling you now, we are not going down this road. Mark Griggs is
not for you.”

“
Okay” I smiled.

But it sounded like a
challenge to me, and there was nothing I liked more than a
challenge.

Chapter 17

YOU WEREN’T IN LOVE WITH
ME

Blind Freddy knew that, a
blind man could see

I was in love with you but
you weren’t in love with me.

Billy Field

How did that song go again?
Blind men could see, I was in love with you, but you weren’t in
love with me? It was a wonder Dean hadn’t guessed, they played the
damn song constantly on the radio and I had never felt less in love
in my life. If blind Freddy could see it why couldn’t
Dean?

I was wistful, as I sat next
to my family and Dean during Midnight Mass. The church was filled
with candlelight, declaring the newborn king, and the choir was
singing ‘Gloria,’ except for old Myrtle who had left her glasses at
home and was lost somewhere in ‘Away in a Manger.’ It was
Christmas. I had new shoes. I was meant to be happy.

The entrance procession
began – altar boys with candles, the deacons and Father Don, the
portly priest. The vow of poverty hasn’t extended to his stomach, I
thought, as his paunch passed by me and he stepped onto the altar.
He looked as if he’d indulged in one too many slices of Christmas
pudding already that festive season.

Dean was holding my hand. I
could feel the stability of his body as it rested against mine. He
had got over his aversion to my new look and had apologised, again.
In return, I had tried to be more attentive and not such a flirt
but it was difficult to change the habits I had formed. I was only
being myself. As the choir sang, my mind drifted. Last week, the
results had been posted, and along with Dean and Justin, I had gone
to the bar to celebrate.

Two higher distinctions,
three credits and the rest of my subjects passed more than
comfortably. It was as I had hoped, I had worked hard, but it
wasn’t enough to send me into a joyous rapture. There was only one
thing that could do that. Well, two, but one I wasn’t allowed and
the other I'd given away like the fool I was.

I saw Dean watching from the
corner of his eye and I tried to concentrate on the service. He
squeezed my hand. Did he sense things weren’t the same? He felt
more like a convenience than a boyfriend. If only he were exciting
or spontaneous. More like Nick… or Ben. There. I’d thought about
him without wanting to throw myself off a bridge. But I missed him.
I had tried to fill the void in my heart but I couldn’t forget him
and for some reason the ache was stronger that night than
ever.

After mass, we arrived home
and Dad put the John Denver Christmas album on. Every Christmas, it
was a torture our family endured, as we sat with gritted teeth
while the nasal tones of the man who looked more like a frog than a
frog filled our lounge. One year Mum had hidden it and Dad had
flown into an apoplectic rage. Such Christmas traditions were never
to be tampered with.

“
Time for a present each
before bed,” said Mum, gaily. Since we’d been old enough to know
Santa wasn’t real, it had been another family tradition to come
home from Midnight Mass and open a present. Until that night, I had
loved the tradition, the excitement of it all. Now, I couldn’t have
cared less.

The champagne cork popped
and Dad poured the bubbles.

“
You go first, Bella,” he
warbled along, handing me a glass and turning John Denver up a
notch.

I didn’t feel like opening a
present.

“
No, you go. I’ll wait.” I
sipped from my glass; even the thought of champagne was
unappealing.

“
Darling?” Mum’s face was
worried. This was not like me; I reveled in Christmas Festivities,
spurring the family to new heights of ridiculousness every year.
The year before, I’d made everyone wear sleigh bells for the entire
celebration – though Mum had begged off when it came to church. She
said it was sacrilegious to enter God’s house impersonating a
Christmas tree.

“
I’m okay Mum, my head
hurts, that’s all,” I answered. And my heart! My heart aches so I
wish I could die. I handed her a present.

“
Oh,” she squealed, “It’s
just what I wanted.” She held up the floral neck-to-knee nightgown
and book I had chosen for her. “Thank you, darling.” Amazing how
such banal things could make a person happy. The only thing that
would make me happy was the thing I couldn’t have.

I looked on miserably.
Everyone was opening gifts; shiny paper lay over the lounge room
floor. I was so sure he would have called. It was Christmas after
all.

Putting my glass on the
hearth, I sat down in front of the empty fireplace. Dean was
talking to Dad about his choices for his last year of his degree.
Mum had stopped flicking through her book to listen. They would be
ecstatic if we got engaged. He was ‘such a nice boy’ but he was not
the man I wanted. Then he smiled at me and I turned away unable to
even look him in the eye. I felt like a fraud. If only I could love
him that way he deserved be loved. He was everything a husband was
meant to be. But he wasn’t Ben. My eyes filled with tears and I
blinked them away.