Lean On Me (Take My Hand)
Read Lean On Me (Take My Hand) Online
Authors: Nicola Haken
Lean On
Me
by Nicola Haken
Lean On
Me
Copyright
©
2014 Nicola Wall
This
book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events are created
from the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any
actual events or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written
permission from the author, except in the case of critics or reviewers who may
quote brief passages in their review. If you are reading this eBook and have
not purchased it or won it in a blogger/author competition then you are reading
a pirated version. Please support the author by deleting this copy and
purchasing it from an authorised distributor.
Dedicated to my very special
friend, Paula Agnes. A woman who I can share anything and everything with.
Someone who shares my passion for reading, my warped sense of humour and best
of all, my craziness!
Paula, I would be lost
without you. I love you, lady.
“What’s meant to be won’t
pass you by.”
~
Pauline Miley – my beloved nanna who I miss every single day
“
Come
on, guys. He’s heading outside.”
The three men had been watching Jared for the past
hour – ever since their ringleader, Simon, caught him trying to
sweet-talk his girlfriend, offering to buy her a drink while he was in the
toilet. An innocent misunderstanding on Jared’s part, but a mistake that must
be punished on Simon’s. Jared stepping outside was Simon’s opportunity –
his chance to show Jared that nobody messes with his belongings and gets away
with it.
“Won’t be long, babe,” Simon whispered into his
girlfriend’s ear before cocking his head for his friends to follow him. The men
followed Jared across the dance-floor and out onto the gritty grounds outside
the nightclub.
“Well this should be easy enough,” Simon muttered
sardonically to his followers when he noticed Jared stumbling along the edge of
the club, steadying himself on the wall with his hand. “Looks like someone
can’t hold their beer,” he mocked as he stepped up right behind Jared.
“Excuse me?” Jared mumbled, turning around and
trying to force his eyes to focus on the man he now stood in front of.
“You touched something that belongs to me. I don’t
like it when people touch what’s mine,” Simon growled, moving in on Jared and
forcing his body against the wall from the close proximity. The other two men
stood on either side, fencing him in completely.
“I’m s-sorry?” Jared stuttered in confusion, his
senses deteriorating by the second.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Simon snarled, curling his
fingers around the base of Jared’s throat. Jared lifted his hand in an attempt
to prize him off, but his muscles were already starting to give in and his arm
fell limp by his side.
“You see,” he continued before landing an uppercut
to Jared’s jaw, sending his head swinging to one side and watching with a
gratified smirk as his cheek slammed against the coarse bricks. “I don’t take
kindly to other guys trying to get in my girlfriend’s knickers.” Another blow
met Jared’s face, just below his eye this time, making Simon sigh with twisted
pleasure at the squelch of blood spurting from Jared’s socket. Jared’s body
doubled over and he cried out in pain before collapsing to the floor in an unconscious
heap.
“I think you should stop,” one of Simon’s friend’s
suggested, feeling uneasy and backing away from the scene. “Seriously, Si, I
think there’s something wrong with the guy.”
“”Yeah?” Simon replied through gritted teeth as he
continued to kick Jared’s helpless body. “He’s a fuckin’ pussy.” He forced a
boot into his ribs and laughed sadistically as the sound of bones cracking
swept through the night air. “Can’t even fight like a fucking man.” Then his
kicks moved up to Jared’s shoulder. “
That’s
what’s wrong with him.”
“Look at him!” the other friend piped up, pointing
and laughing. “He’s spazzing out!” he added, thoroughly amused at the sight of
Jared’s bleeding and battered body convulsing on the concrete. “Looks like he’s
got fucking rabies with all that froth coming out of his mouth!” Then, raising
his hand to Simon in a silent request to put his kicks on hold, he bent down
and started tugging the zip down on Jared’s leather jacket.
“Ah come on, mate, what the fuck are you doing?”
The friend with an apparent conscience asked, scanning the grounds of the club
to make sure no one was coming.
“Bingo!” was his reply. Then he jumped to his feet
and gave Jared a hefty kick with his own boot before waving the wallet he’d
just taken proudly in the air.
“Fuck me, is he…. Ugh, he’s fucking pissing
himself!” Simon grunted, changing tact and slamming his boot into Jared’s back
this time. “Dirty fucking bastard.”
“Come on now, seriously. I thought you just wanted
to warn him off. You’re gonna fucking kill him!” Closing time must have
arrived, because in that moment the sound of drunken laughter and high heels clicking
against the pavement started pouring from the front of the club.
“He goes anywhere near my girl again, and that’s
exactly
what I’ll fucking do.” Simon
used his foot to roll Jared’s crumpled body, which had finally stopped shaking
and was now lying paralysed on the cold ground, onto his back. Then, looking
out towards the noise of the oncoming crowd of people being kicked out of the
club, he cocked his head in the opposite direction.
“Let’s go.” Simon spat onto Jared’s broken body
before running hastily around the back of the club to re-join the crowd from
the other side. As always, his friends followed, and only one looked back
– feeling overcome with guilt as he disappeared around the corner,
wondering if the man he’d just stood by and watched get beaten to a pulp, would
live or die.
Jared
Eight years later…
“
Well
fuck a duck, don’t you look ridiculous?” Moving my eyes from Rachel’s face I
looked down at myself. I’d been in such a rush to leave my parents’ house I’d
completely forgotten about the garish red knitted jumper with a giant snowflake
sewn into the middle.
“It’s Christmas,” I shrugged by way of an excuse.
“You can’t upset your grandma at Christmas. That’d be like… pissing on a baby
or something.” Rachel stared at me like she’d just caught me
literally
pissing on a baby. “You gonna
let me in or what?” I complained. “It’s bloody freezing.”
Without saying a word, Rachel gave an exaggerated
arm-roll and then wheeled to the side to let me past. Rachel’s mum appeared at
the end of the hallway and dried her hands on the tea-towel she was holding
before offering a hand for me to shake.
“I hope I’m not intruding on your Boxing Day plans,
Mrs Mason,” I felt obliged to say as I took hold of her hand.
After getting lost fifty-eight times (well,
probably more like three if we’re really counting) I had finally arrived in
Cheshire to see out the rest of the Christmas holiday with Rachel and her
family. My Christmas was going great until last night when I had a major
bust-up with my dad. I planned to go back to my apartment and drink the week
away but Rachel insisted I come up here. I’m still not too sure why, but it
beats being alone I suppose.
“Not at all,” Rachel’s mum replied - sounding not
only sincere but genuinely happy. “And call me Caroline.”
“Caroline,” I repeated, sounding it out on my
tongue.
“What can I get you to drink? You must be thirsty
after such a long drive.” I wasn’t just thirsty; I was utterly fucking
exhausted. I could’ve killed for a lager but thought it more polite to ask for
coffee.
“I’ll have a coffee please. White, two sugars.”
“He’ll take a lager, Mum,” Rachel interrupted from
behind me. I scowled at her. I was trying to come across like a decent guy
here! Caroline nodded and I could tell by the way she smiled she was onto my
game. “Rachel sweetheart… take your friend through to the living room and put
the fire on!” She called over her shoulder when she disappeared into what I
assumed was the kitchen.
“Wow – the fire. You’d think royalty had come
to visit,” Rachel groaned as she wheeled into the living room.
“Hey!
You
invited
me
!” I grumbled in mock
offence. “Besides, you don’t think I’m special, saffy?”
“Oh just fuck off,” she spat. I couldn’t help
laughing. She hates that I’ve started calling her saffy and I suspect that’s
because I won’t tell her why (maybe I’ll tell
you
later if I get a free minute). But it’s just too much bloody
fun having the power to rile her up so easily, and that’s why I haven’t
referred to her by her actual name in two weeks. “So are you going to get
changed? You’re clashing with my hair.” Rachel has dyed her hair bright
flamingo-pink – the exact same shade as the stitching on my hideous
jumper - since I saw her last week.
“Oh, sweetheart… let him get settled first,”
Caroline scolded when she entered the room with a bottle of Heineken. Somehow
she still managed to sound sweet even though she was telling Rachel off.
Telling her off… that makes it sound like she’s three years old but you get
what I’m saying. “Do you want a glass, Jared?”
“From the bottle’s fine. Thank you.”
“Turkey sandwich? You must be starving.”
“That sounds great.” Wow. I could get used to this.
Maybe I’ll ask her to adopt me. “Your mum’s great,” I said to Rachel once
Caroline was out of earshot.
“It’ll wear off. She’s just trying to make a good
impression. Fuck knows why.”
“Seriously, saffy, did you ask me here just so you
could be pissed off with me all week? ‘Cause I’m starting to think drinking my
lonely arse into a coma might’ve been more fun.”
“Stop calling me saffy! I don’t like it.”
“Sure you do. You’re just pissed off ‘cause you
don’t know what it means.”
“So go on then… What
does
it mean?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I teased, receiving the
exact response I was aiming for – the middle finger. “You missing Emily?”
“We’re not joined at the hip,” she snapped. “It’s
been less than two weeks. I’m pretty sure I’m big enough to survive on my own.”
Fuck me, what the hell was eating her? “Sorry,” she reluctantly muttered. I
know it was reluctant because she said it so faintly I wouldn’t have heard if I
hadn’t been eyeing up her new lip piercing. “So the shit’s hit the fan with
your dad, eh? What’s that all about?”
“The usual shit. I’m a failure blah de fucking
blah. I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Or ever. It’s not the first
time my dad and I have had this argument and I know it will blow over soon
enough; probably after my mum’s had a good old moan at him. Still, it’s the
first time he’s ruined fucking Christmas by spouting his ‘do you seriously not
want to amount to anything’ bullshit.
Caroline made up some seriously good turkey and
stuffing sandwiches accompanied by a mince pie and another lager. That right
there, people… was Christmas on a fucking plate. Rachel was a miserable mare
all evening which made me feel awkward to say the least. Her mum must’ve been
wondering why the hell she asked me here. I know I certainly was. Then, just
after 8 PM she went to bed! Can you believe that? She left me all alone feeling
like a complete and utter dickweed while her mum fussed around, making me more
sandwiches and trying to make polite chatter.
By the time her dad got home from his annual Boxing
Day piss-up with his friends, I seized the opportunity to go to bed myself
under the pretence I was tired from the long drive. After a brief introduction
to Bryan, Rachel’s dad, Caroline showed me to the guest room and I climbed into
the double bed, removing only my jeans, and went to sleep in the knowledge I
was going to fucking
kill
Rachel
Mason in the morning.
**********
It was almost noon the next day before Rachel
prized her lazy arse out of bed. Figuring I should play the part of the
grateful guest, I asked Caroline if she needed any help with anything (fully
expecting her to say no) and ended up with the task of taking down all the
Christmas decorations. She said they always take them down this early because
they make the house look cluttered. My mum? She’d go apeshit if anyone dared
touch them before the 6
th
January. Apparently it’s bad luck or some
bollocks like that.
“About time, sweetheart.” My neck instinctively
turned to the sound of Caroline’s voice and then I saw Rachel in the doorway.
“Are you feeling better after yesterday?”
Hmm.
Wonder what happened yesterday?
“I’m fine,” Rachel answered curtly. If I didn’t
know her better I’d have thought she looked embarrassed. “It was no big deal,
I’ve told you.”
“I just worry about you. When I think of how long
you could’ve been lying there if no one-”
“Just drop it, Mum!”
“Whoa, Rach,” I interjected. “I don’t know what
happened but I’m sure-”
“And you can shut the fuck up too.”
“Rachel!” Caroline admonished. “What on earth has
gotten into you?”
“Nothing,” she replied sulkily. “Hey, Jared. Wanna
go out for a bit?” Oh, so she was talking to me now?
“Um, sure,” I said a little hesitantly. “Where?”
“Shopping. Pub. Don’t really care.” Yeah, this
should be fun. That’s if you’re the kind of person who classes jamming your
balls in a vice and bashing the shit out of them with a meat clever fun.
“I’ll grab my keys from upstairs.”
“I’ll get them. I’m going up for my handbag anyway.
Where abouts are they?” Wait… Rachel could go upstairs. I wasn’t being
disableist (is that a word? Huh. Maybe I
should’ve
listened more at school after all), but I couldn’t help wondering how the
bleeding hell she did that. “There’s a lift built into the dining room,” she
added, my expression obviously conveying my curiosity.
“A
lift?
In
your
house?
That’s so cool!”
What? You don’t think that’s cool? Seriously, how
useful would that be when you roll in from a late night drinking session?
“Can I see it?”
“Um… okaaaay.” Rachel looked at me like I was a
giant imbecile before turning towards the hall and leading me to the dining
room. The wall to the left had tracks at one side and Rachel wheeled over and
pushed a little green button fixed to the wall beside it. Seconds later a glass
lift descended from the ceiling, slowly making its way down until it stopped
with a hiss - like air escaping from a giant balloon.
“Oh come on… that is cool. It’s even got a door!”
“Want a ride?” Rachel asked. I knew from the
patronising tone of her voice (though in fairness she sounds like that most of
the time) she was taking the piss but I didn’t care – I wanted a shot in
that bad boy.
“Hell yeah, I do!” There was another button beneath
the green one and when Rachel pressed it the door automatically eased open and
a small metal ramp lowered from the front. In a completely un-gentlemanly
manner I jumped inside first and Rachel followed before pressing yet another
button and setting the thing in motion.
“Seriously, Jared?” she mocked. Sure I was making a
tit of myself getting so excited over a lift but come on… it’s in a house!
“Anyone’d think you’ve never been in a lift before.”
“Not in a
house!
”
So, you thought I was already making an arse of myself? Well you should’ve
heard how stupid I sounded when I broke out into the chorus of Button Moon.
“What the fuck
is
that?”
“We’ll follow Mr Spoon to button moo-oon, button
mooooon,” I continued to chirp. “You don’t remember that show?”
“Um… no,” she replied condescendingly.
“Don’t forget you’re an old man compared to me.” Cheeky bitch. Twenty-eight is
not
old.
“We should You Tube it,” I suggested.
“Whatever,” Rachel dismissed, pressing
the orange button which opened the door when we reached the top. The lift
provided a direct line to Rachel’s bedroom. Again I thought that was bloody
cool but I suspected she’d slap me if I said it again so I kept my gob shut. “Right,
go grab your keys. I’ll meet you downstairs.” I was more disappointed than I
should’ve been that I wouldn’t be riding in the lift again.
Following orders, I headed straight to
the guest room and picked up my keys from the dresser. Then I gave my body a
quick spritz with some deodorant before making my way back downstairs. I was
down before Rachel, and Caroline met me in the hallway with a flask of coffee.
That was such a sweet, yet old lady thing to do.
“It’s a cold day. If you break down
you’ll be grateful of something to keep you warm until help arrives.” Ever the
optimist huh, Caroline?
“Thanks. That’s really nice of you. But
my baby hasn’t let me down this far and I can’t see her doing it in the
future,” I teased, referring to my red BMW convertible.
“Take care of her today for me. I think
she’s still a little sore after her fall yesterday.” Rachel fell? Why didn’t
she tell me? Was that what the stinking mood she’d been in since I arrived
about? “She gets embarrassed about these things.”
“Sure I will,” I said, leaving it at
that. If Rachel didn’t want me to know I shouldn’t pry any further. In all
honesty though, I did feel kind of… I don’t know, hurt I guess, that she didn’t
tell me herself. I thought we were friends.
Good
friends.
Once Rachel had finally hurried her arse
downstairs we headed straight outside to my car. I could see her weighing it up
with her eyes when I opened the door to help her inside.
“It’s bigger on the inside,” I assured
her – knowing she was pondering how her chair was going to fit inside.
“Like the tardis.”
It was only in that moment I realised
I’d never driven Rachel anywhere before. My hands stuttered as they reached out
towards her. Would she need help? Would I be fussing if I offered to help? But
then, would I look like a selfish prick if I didn’t?
“Stop looking at me like that,
twatasaurus. I’ve got this.” I didn’t know I was looking at her like anything
so I found it hard to stop. Therefore I started looking at the magpie that’d just
landed on her parents’ front lawn instead. “But you’ll need to put that in the
back for me,” she added after hitching herself inside my car, nodding towards
her chair.
She gave me a quick lesson in how to
collapse the damn thing (believe me those babies are more complicated than they
look to put down) then I ran through every swear word ever invented while
trying to fit it in the back of my car.
“Whoa whoa whoa….” I said when I joined
Rachel inside, interrupting her just as she was about to bring a lighter up to
the cigarette sticking out from her lips. “You can’t smoke in here.”
“You’re fucking with me right? It’s been
over twenty-four hours. I can’t smoke anywhere near my mum without a lecture on
lung cancer.” Despite giving out a frustrated huff, she proceeded to slip the
cigarette back in its packet.