Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3) (11 page)

Bram drops his ice immediately. “Of course I will
miurnin
.”
He hoists her up where she clings like a monkey. He looks at Elen. “How are you
getting home? Shall I call you a taxi?”

Mick stands up checking his phone. “No need mate we’re
sharing a taxi. They’ve just texted to let us know they’re outside.”

Charlie, Bram and Matt look at him with almost identical
looks. The look acknowledges that they’re not going to say anything now because
they don’t want to embarrass Elen, but it promises retribution and huge amounts
of piss taking when he’s alone with them. As one they smile evilly and Matt
laughs loudly.

“Whatever,” Mick sniffs trying not to laugh. He and Elen hug
everyone, and then accompanied by Bram holding a now sleeping Daisy they make
their way towards the house. We watch them go fondly and then become aware of a
woman walking in a lazy strut towards us.

I look at her and then take a second look because she seems
familiar and I can’t place her. She’s utterly stunning, very slim with masses
of jet-black inky hair, warm olive skin and slumberous brown eyes which are
currently locked on Charlie. Suddenly it clicks where I’ve seen her. It was in
a magazine that I was reading at the hairdressers the other day.

“Isn’t she some Spanish supermodel?” I murmur to Matt,
watching as she leans into Charlie asking for a light for the cigarette that
she’s proffering.

“Yeah, Noa something or other. He’s been seeing her for a
few weeks,” he replies as Charlie holds out his Zippo to the supermodel,
smiling lazily at her as she leans closer to the flame and offers a flirtatious
smile at him. Charlie instantly stands up and wanders away from the table with
her clinging to his arm. I’m not sure why it surprises me that he’s been seeing
her but I’d been so sure that he was interested in Mabe that it takes me aback.

I look at Matt but he’s staring after Charlie with a hard
look on his face. Then he turns back to look at Mabe his face softening at the
look of devastation on her face, but she shakes her head at him and he subsides
without saying anything.

“Fucking hell this looks like a party for the Amish.” Bram
says as he suddenly appears and then frowns. “What the fuck happened to you
lot? I’ve only been gone five minutes.” Matt shakes his head at him and looking
around he catches sight of Charlie and then sneaks a look at Mabe quickly and
sympathetically. Then he places a chilled bottle of vodka on the table with a
flourish and produces some shot glasses from his back pockets. Looking around
he grins lopsidedly. “Shots bitches.”

“Who are you calling a bitch?” Seth’s deep voice sounds from
behind him and he appears with Viv at his side. He looks a little more unkempt
than usual and when he lists slightly I can see it’s because he’s quite drunk.

Bram smirks at him and then makes a production of looking
behind him. “Hi Mrs M,” he shouts and Seth flinches and ducks before looking
over his shoulder. “Bastard,” he mutters as everyone laughs.

“Sit your ass down,” Bram commands and fills the glasses.
Handing me mine he taps the glass with his own. “
Slainte
,” he says
challengingly and I smile and mutter
slainte
back before slamming the
shot down.

Twenty minutes later I’m feeling no pain and I don’t think
anyone else is either. “Fuck,” Bram shudders and wipes his hand over his mouth.

“I know,” I slur, leaning on him.

“You pissed babe?” he laughs, brushing my hair back.

Seth laughs. “I know I am.”

Bram smirks at him. “What happened to you? You’ve usually
got the alcohol tolerance level of a giant elephant.”

Viv laughs. “He’s been drinking since lunchtime.”

Matt laughs. “Who with?”

“Some guys from back home,” Seth says lighting a cigarette,
his well-formed lips pursed as he blows the smoke into the air.

“Tempted to go back?” Viv asks lightly but he stares
intently at her for a second.

“Fuck no,” he finally says deeply. “I’ve got no reason to go
back and every reason to be here.” For a second she seems to fall into him but
then Charlie wanders up supermodel less and I see him sigh as the moment is
lost.

“Where’s your Spanish bird?” Bram asks handing him a shot.

He downs it quickly and then staggers slightly catching his
hand on Mabe’s shoulder. It’s obviously a familiar gesture to both of them but
to my surprise she stands up knocking his hand away and grabbing her jacket.

“Mabe,” he says haltingly but he doesn’t move quickly enough
and she’s gone in a swirl of pink and with a wave of her hand at everyone. Viv
dashes after her while Charlie stares after her and Seth looks hard at him.

“Aren’t you going after her Charlie?”

He looks at Seth and then slumps. “No.”

“No?”

Charlie looks at him. “I can’t not tonight. It’s too near
the surface tonight. I can’t be with her when I feel like this.” I’m not sure
what he’s talking about but Seth, Bram and Matt seem to and for a second
silence falls and then Bram stirs and pushes a chair out.

“Sit down son and let’s drink eh?”

Charlie slumps faintly and then sits down accepting the glass
that Bram hands him and shooting it down. Obviously looking for a distraction
Bram’s eye falls on me and Matt sniggers as I look to him for help. “Alys,”
Bram says silkily. “Let’s return to that very interesting discussion we were
having about the hordes of naked women roaming my apartment.”

I squirm. “I didn’t say it like that.” Seth and Charlie
laugh loudly, good humour restored. “No, I really didn’t. It’s not my fault
that you have commitment problems.”

“
Me
?” Bram presses his hand to his chest and does his
best to look injured.

“Yes you. Bram you get nervous if you go over the sell by
date on a piece of steak because it means it’s stopped in your house for too
long.”

Seth laughs and Bram turns to him. “You know everyone else
heard her say blah blah blah, but what I actually heard was her talking about
my meat again.”

I gasp in indignation while Charlie roars with laughter.
“Mate you’re so commitment phobic you can’t even finish a film.”

“I can too. I sat through ‘Dirty Dancing’ when we were at
school and dating those twins.”

“Mate you went to sleep half way through. You didn’t even
stay awake for the wet t-shirt in the lake.”

“You know women remember that scene so differently from
you,” I marvel. “To them it’s a tender scene indicating the building trust and
budding love between the two main characters, but to you it’s just …”

“Wet tits!” they shout loudly and clink glasses while Matt
rolls his eyes.

Finally Bram settles. “That scene was bullshit anyway. Only
way that fucking lift worked was because Jennifer Grey was the size of a small
child.”

“Bullshit,” Charlie says loudly. “It’s all about weight
distribution and height differentiation.”

Bram waves his arms wildly as he’s prone to do when swept up
by what is usually a bad idea. “Okay prove it.”

“How?” Charlie slurs.

Bram stands up. “Easy. I’ll run at you and you catch me and
lift me over your head.”

“Done.” Charlie stands up.

“But you have to hold me over your head,” Bram insists very
seriously. “Otherwise the bet’s off.”

Charlie smirks. “Oh son we’re betting now? Okay. I hold your
lanky Irish arse over my head for what?”

“Ten seconds.”

“Okay ten seconds and I’ll get what?”

Bram thinks hard. “Your Ducati,” Seth offers and Bram glares
at him.

“Fuck Seth, shut up.”

“Backing out Jennifer?” Charlie sneers.

“No I’m fucking not.” He straightens up. “Okay you get my
Ducati and I’ll get your Porsche if you drop me?”

Charlie spits on his hand. “Done.”

Bram makes a moue of disgust. “Why do people
do
that?” but then shrugs and they shake.

I stir. “I’m not sure that this is a good idea,” I begin to
say before being hushed by all the men even Matty who looks transported by the
idea of doing something really stupid.

“Hush it mother!” Bram waves his hand at me and I subside,
watching the two walk onto an empty stretch of patio.

“Okay?” Charlie stretches himself while Bram jogs on the
spot for a second and I can’t help but laugh because they look so ridiculous.

Bram glares crossly at me. “Alys this is serious business.
Now stand up and cheer for me.”

“Come on Jennifer,” Charlie calls, gesturing insultingly at
him.

Bram starts to run and then stops abruptly and everyone
stares. “What’s wrong?” Seth asks his voice trembling with laughter.

“I can’t do this without the music,” Bram says solemnly.
“And I’m not Jennifer. I’m Baby.”

“Jesus Christ Almighty!” Matt thunks his head down on the
table and bangs it a few times for good measure as Charlie starts warbling in
an alarmingly high voice ‘Now I’ve had the Time of my Life’.

Bram starts to run and I stand up. “Stop!” He slides to a
stop and stares at me.

“What?” he asks breathlessly.

“That’s not the song,” I finally say apologetically. They
all stare at me flabbergasted as if I’ve interrupted an Olympic medal trial.
“It was ‘Hey Baby’ on the log and then in the lake it was just the instrumental
of ‘I’ve Had the Time of My Life’,” I finally say.

“Really?” Charlie asks disbelievingly.

“No she’s right,” Bram offers.

“You
don’t know. You were fucking snoring at that
point. Lana had to wake you up.”

“Just hum it or we’ll be here all night,” Matt sighs.

From then on it seems to happen in slow motion as Bram darts
at Charlie and is lifted triumphantly over his head to a falsetto humming
version of the ‘Dirty Dancing’ classic. For a second he stays there and Charlie
exclaims triumphantly. I’m sure I hear the words ‘Ducati’ muttered by Charlie,
but then he loses his grip and Bram, or Baby, sails majestically over his head
to land with a crash on the patio.

“Oh dear,” I say breathlessly but it’s hard to be serious
when four grown men are laughing like donkeys.

Bram lifts a face of laughter up from his sprawled position.
“You owe me that lovely Porsche,” he croons triumphantly. “I knew it was only
possible for small children or oompa loompas.” Then he winces. “Think Alys
might have to take me to the hospital though.”

“Why?” everyone asks and I notice that he’s holding his
right arm.

He looks sheepishly at me. “I think that I’ve broken my
arm.”

Everyone exclaims in horror or tries to. It’s a bit hard to
do that when you’re laughing hysterically but the men manage it. Finally I push
my way through. “For goodness sake,” I chide, looking at his arm. “Have you
really broken it?”

He gives a lopsided grin. “Yep.”

I shake my head. “I’ve got only one thing to say to you Bram
O’Connell.”

He looks nervous. “What?”

“Nobody puts Baby on the corner.”

“In
the corner,” he corrects me automatically. “She
wasn’t a hooker.”

“Okay,” I sigh, stroking his hair. “I’ll say this,” I offer.
“You Beggar’s Choice boys sure know how to throw a party.”

Alys

Hours later Bram’s sense of humour has deserted him making
way for his new persona of a crotchety seven year old. We’re sitting in the
waiting room of The Royal Free Hospital in Hampstead waiting for him to go for
an x-ray. He had been put in a cubicle at first but it’s so busy that Bram had
insisted that he would be okay out in the waiting room in order to free the
cubicle up for them.

Since then he’s occupied himself by asking me increasingly
wild questions about the nursing profession and guessing how low cut my scrubs
are. The boys have been largely left alone mainly because it’s Saturday night
and so it’s full of drunk people shuffling around. One woman passes us at that
moment wearing a skirt that’s so short it should really be a belt, and moving
in that slow, sleepwalking stagger that only someone that’s really drunk can
manage.

Seth stares. “It’s like ‘The Walking Dead’ in here,” he
mutters.

“Wish it was,” I sigh, stretching my neck where it’s got
stiff from too long spent sitting. “At least if someone was trying to eat me it
might alleviate the boredom.”

Bram who has been fiddling fretfully with the sling that
they’d given him perks up and gives me a lascivious grin. “Sweetheart did I
just hear you express a preference for getting eaten when bored? If it’s
boredom that does it I’m hereby volunteering to sit and watch ‘Antiques
Roadshow’ with you every week.”

I flip him off and he laughs out loud but flinches when the
movement jerks his arm which the doctor splinted when we got here. I look at
him sympathetically. “Are the painkillers wearing off?”

He nods pathetically and Matt shakes his head. “It’s your
own stupid fault Bram.”

“Alright mother,” Bram says indignantly. “What about
Charlie? He’s the fucker that dropped me. Why aren’t you lecturing
him
?”

“Because he isn’t here,” Matt says patiently.

“What? Why not? Where is he?”

Seth smirks. “He fucked off when someone called Noa rang
him. Can’t say I blame him. I mean a night spent with a supermodel, or in
Casualty with a twat on a Saturday night.”

Bram gives him a chastising look. “Matt’s not that bad Seth,
don’t be cruel.”

Seth laughs and Matt pulls a magazine over his face. “Wake
me up when it’s done,” he says plaintively.

I look at Bram. “Do you want me to get you something babe?”

He sighs and then shakes his head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,”
he says bravely.

Seth snorts. “Suck it up Pip. You’re a big boy now.”

I’m nonplussed because for a second I think that my hearing
aid has malfunctioned. “What did you call him?” I ask cautiously and Bram
groans.

“Please don’t,” he says plaintively but Seth laughs.

“Pip. It’s what everyone called him when he was a kid.”

I look at Bram. “Why?”

He sighs. “Because I was a pip.” I look at him querying and
he elaborates. “A pip – it’s slang for a real character.”

Matt laughs. “Or a pain in the ass, but no it was actually
because he was small when he was a kid so we called him Pip like pipsqueak, and
also Pippin or Bramley like the apples.”

“Which again isn’t my name,” Bram says patiently as I laugh.

“Pip, I like it.”

He creases his face up. “I might let you do it but no one
else.” ‘
Hey’
Matt says indignantly but Bram shakes his head firmly and
then winces again. “Can I put my head in your lap Alys?”

Seth snorts. “I don’t think Casualty is the place for that
even for a rock star stud like you.”

Bram moves slowly and carefully, wincing as he lies full
length on the settee until his head is in my lap. “I think my studly reputation
is ruined beyond repair by having to tell that nurse how I broke my arm.”

I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone able to telegraph ‘
you
are a twat’
so clearly without saying a word.”

“I’m sure that’s not the correct bedside manner that I was
expecting,” Bram says primly, pulling my hand over his head to make me start
stroking his hair and sighing with pleasure when I do.

Matt removes the magazine. “Bram your only starting point of
knowledge of the nursing profession comes from watching porn.”

Bram sighs earnestly. “I do feel that it’s given me
unrealistic expectations of the NHS. So far there have been absolutely no blow
jobs or anal fisting at all, just lots of waiting around.”

“Never mind,” Seth says comfortably. “When they do your
enema they might get to the fisting.”

Bram’s eyes fly open. “Oh my God,” he says, his voice a
shrill whisper. “Will I have to get an enema?”

Seth and Matt start laughing really loudly attracting a
great deal of attention from the other patients.

Finally when they stop laughing silence dawns until Bram
stirs. “I think I proved my point anyway,” he says happily. “It’s impossible to
do that move unless your partner has the weight capacity of a piece of toast.
‘Dirty Dancing’ is unrealistic.”

“It’s crap anyway,” I interject whereupon all three men
stare at me.

“How is that possible?” Matt marvels. “
All
women like
‘Dirty Dancing’.”

“Hmm, like all men like vaginas?” I query and he snorts.

“Point taken.”

Bram turns his head in my lap to examine me closely. “How
can you
not
like the film?”

I shrug. “It’s just rubbish. I particularly hate that bit at
the end when he comes up to her and says ‘
nobody puts Baby in the corner’
and then proceeds to embarrass the fuck out of her by making her do some shitty
dance routine.”

Bram stares. “And that’s not romantic?” he asks in a
hesitant voice.

“Pip if you think that’s romantic I can see why you’re still
single.” Matt lets out a snort of laughter and I warm to my theme. “If he’d
come up to me I’d have had to say, ‘
No, actually I quite like the corner.
Please leave me alone and ask my sister to dance since she is patently more
suited to this
sort
of thing
.’ Plus that bit where they’re dancing
together on the log?” I look around and the men nod solemnly. “Well it’s highly
likely that if that hadn’t been in the film she would have slipped and knocked
herself out on the rocks and the hotel would have been facing a lawsuit. Plus,
don’t get me started on ‘Pretty Woman’.”

Bram stares at me nonplussed. “You don’t like ‘Pretty Woman’
either
?”

“Nope. It’s bloody awful. It makes me cringe when he drives
down the road in a big limo serenading her with opera. They’d never have lasted
in a million years.”

“Why?” Seth asks, his voice trembling slightly.

“Come off it she was a prostitute and he was miles older
than her. The whole relationship would have descended into acrimony and recriminations
over her past, and broken dreams when she realised that she was just arm candy
for an old man who was quite frankly fucking creepy.”

Seth looks at me wonderingly. “I feel like we’ve found a
unicorn or some mythical creature that no one believes exists. How can you not
like chick flicks?”

I shrug. “I just bloody hate them. Life is not like that. I
prefer a good thriller or even a horror.”

Bram smirks. “Alys do you think that you’re a bit of a bloke
at times?”

I smile. “You mean hard hearted and unimpressed by overblown
gestures?”

He stares at me his eyes looking dark green in this light.
“You’re definitely different,” he muses but before I can ask what he means a
doctor and nurse arrive to take him to x-ray.

The sky is already lightening when we pull up at the flat
later and it’s deserted. I get out of the taxi and stretch happily while Bram
pays the driver. I wander nearer to the water’s edge hearing the hungry cries
of some gulls overhead and feeling a bracing, briny breeze hit my face blowing
my hair back.

I don’t hear Bram come up behind me but suddenly he’s there
beside me looking out at the water. The wind tangles his brown gold waves and
he stands companionably silent enjoying the early morning quiet. He turns and catches
me looking but I don’t feel the usual embarrassment at being caught gawking but
only an easy friendship. “It’s nice isn’t it?” he finally says looking around.
“Like we’re the only two people on earth.”

“I know. London’s so rarely like it. I love that feeling and
I haven’t really had it since I left Ireland.” He sucks thoughtfully on his lip
ring and I turn impulsively to him. “Do you miss Ireland?”

He stares into space and a long second passes leaving me
convinced that he’s going to ignore the personal question, but then he stirs.
“I’m not sure. I mean I loved living there and I will always, no matter where I
live or what I do, be Irish. That’s my identity, but I haven’t lived there
since I was a teenager and I sometimes think that I miss something that never
was.”

I look at him sympathetically. “Maybe not babe. Ireland’s
always the same and so are the people. I don’t think you’ve lost it, just
misplaced it for a while.”

He smiles blindingly. “Do you really think that?” I nod and
then with one of his lightening changes of subject he smirks at me. “You do
realise Alys that if we were the only two people on earth then you’d be obliged
to fuck …”

“No,” I laugh holding my hands up. “Just no.”

I walk off and he comes to my side laughing. “No really
Alys, it would be your duty to mankind to do it.”

“I’d have a headache.”

He smiles smugly. “Afterwards. Not before and definitely not
during. You’d have a headache because of the sheer bliss of the event and from
banging your head on the headboard.”

“Would there be headboards in the event of an apocalypse?” I
wonder idly and then snort. “Bliss! Okay I’ll take your word for it.”

He rests his good hand over his chest. “Don’t take my word
for it. I’ll gladly give you some testimonials, or you can just take a test
drive from the Sex King of the Docklands.”

“It’s hard to take the Sex King of the Docklands seriously
when he’s wearing a bright pink cast on his arm.”

He snorts and then sobers when we come to the lift after
waving hello to the night guard who’s on the phone. “What are you doing? You
don’t like the lift. Aren’t we using the stairs?” The doors open and I wave him
in but he stops, making the doors do that ‘shall I, shan’t I’ closing dance.
“Alys let’s use the stairs babe.”

I consider pushing him in but abandon it in favour of
walking into the lift. I turn to look at him. “Bram you’re tired and in a lot
of pain. The last thing that you need is to run up numerous stairs. I’ll be
okay so get in.”

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“I am, come on.”

He finally ambles into the lift and enters the code for the
penthouse looking at me from the corner of his eye. The doors close and even
though I know that we’re only going to be in here for less than a minute I
still feel a wave of panic but I fight it down, looking fixedly at the wall and
trying to make my mind concentrate on the patterns in the expensive paper that
decorates the lift.

I’m instantly distracted when a warm hand pulls me round and
before I can say anything he draws me to him, tightening his arms and lowering
his head over mine so that I feel like I’m encased in the warmest, safest suit
of armour that I’ve ever felt. I murmur and try to move away from pressing on
his broken arm, but he hushes me so that I feel the rumbling of his voice in
his chest. Finally I lift my head when the panic goes and smile at him. He
smiles back. “I wanted to do that when we were on the tube that time,” he says
softly.

“Really?”

“Yes. You were being so brave and looked so alone I just
wanted to scoop you up and hold you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

The silence lengthens and for a second I think that he’s
going to go with one of his usual flippant comments. I can actually see one
forming in his eyes, but then it dies away and he runs his hand down my hair
staring at the strands like he’s Rumpelstiltskin and they’re gold that he’s
spun from straw. “I couldn’t,” he finally says. “You weren’t my friend then.”

“Am I now?” I ask softly.

“Yes.” He lowers his head to rub his face against me like a
lion marking his territory. I think I hear him say ‘the best one I’ll ever
have’ but I’m not sure and the lift doors open before I can say anything more.

We walk into the flat and he stretches and sighs. “Fuck, I
feel like I’ve been away for years don’t you?” I laugh and nod and he runs his
good hand down his face and I hear the scratch of his stubble. “I need a
fucking shower,” he finally says. “I smell like patio stones and hospitals.”

I scoff. “You rock stars and your wild lives.” Then I
hesitate, looking at him until he stirs.

“What?” he asks panicked. “What did I do?”

“How are you going to manage showering and dressing and
everything Bram? You’re right handed aren’t you?”

He looks flabbergasted. “Bloody hell I didn’t think of
that.”

“We should have brought Matt with us. He could have helped
us.”

He shudders. “I love Matt but it’s been a long while since
he showered me, and trust me the memory of the time that he did means he won’t
ever do it again.” I look at him questioningly and he shakes his head. “That’s
a secret that we’ll take to our graves. Oh well I’m sure I’ll manage.”

I sigh heavily. “I’ll help you,” I say finally and
reluctantly. It might sound mad but the
thought
of having to put my hands on all those hard muscles covered in golden brown
skin is a problem because I’m finding it harder and harder to hide how
attracted to him I am.

He only has to be in the same room and I’ll smell his sweet,
spicy scent or hear his rough voice and I’m wet and ready. If he knew that,
there would be only two outcomes. He would either reject me and the friendship
would suffer, or he’d fuck me and the friendship would end. I know this as
assuredly as I know my own name. Bram is not built for anything but transient
relationships and I am. We’re so mutually incompatible that we should be on
opposite poles.