Page 85 of Marley
“Please ya selves.” I told them with a shrug, obviously sulking.
“If you really wanna know, I told her to go shower because she smelt like fresh fuck. You saying she smelt good was funny because you wouldn’t have said that if she still smelt—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it, Mac, thanks. Sorry I fucking asked.” I interrupted him.
“I did warn you, dude.”
“Whatever.” I sound even sulkier now.
“So what you doing here Marls? How’s things with Ash? Hope you’re looking after her?”
I studied my sister for a few seconds before I answered. Her eyes were clear, bright, and blue, and I couldn’t help but notice how good they looked together. Her and Maca I meant, not her eyes. No wonder the magazines were all after the first photos of these two as a couple.
“You’ll have to ask her about that, George, but I’m doing my best. Its Ash I came ‘round to see you about, actually. I’m after a favour.”
“What’s that?” George asked.
“Apparently, she’s sick. She wasn’t feeling well last night and she’s called in sick at work today. I was just wondering if you had her address so I could send her some flowers.”
George bit down on her bottom lip before asking, “Has she never given you her address? Have you never dropped her home there?”
“Na, she usually gets a taxi home. I always pay, but she always insists she doesn’t wanna put me to any trouble.”
“I’d actually be breaking the law if I gave her address out to you, Marls. Confidentiality and all that.”
“But I don’t want you doing it as her boss. I want you to be doing it as her mate. What about her phone number? Surely you can give me that?”
“All right, I’ll get you her address, but I’ll have to call down to the shop and get it. I actually have no idea where she lives.”
“What? How long have you been mates?” I asked. How could she not know where she lived?
“Since school,” She said. “I knew where she lived then, but I never went around there. Then she was in a flat over on the council estate with her brother. I lost track after that. I know she’s in her own place now, but I’ve no idea where. We usually go out straight from work so she gets ready here. I’m a bad friend, ain’t I?” George asked.
“I just can’t believe you don’t know where she lives.” I replied.
Georgia made the call and ten minutes later, I’d said my goodbyes. I was in my car, trying to work out where the fuck I was going. In the end, I pulled over at a florist, bought some flowers, nipped next door to the supermarket and bought Lucozade, cold and flu medicine, sore throat drops, sweets, chocolate, and crisps. I left my car parked up in the car park and after signing a couple of autographs, I got the nice lady from the florist to call me a cab.
The house the cabbie dropped me at was a big ol’ place that looked like it should be pulled down. I felt a little confused as I walked up the driveway, then I realised that the place had obviously been turned into flats at some stage, and Ash must’ve been renting one.
I pressed the buzzer for her number, but got no response. I pressed again, and just as I did, two boys of about fourteen come barrelling out the door. I caught it just before it closed and made my way up the stairs.
Brentwood was, still to this day, a really nice area, but that place? That was bloody horrible, and not somewhere anyone wouldchooseto live. There was no lift, and as I walked up the stairs, the smell of rubbish, weed, cigarette smoke, and piss, got right up my nose.
I eventually found Ashley’s door tucked into the corner of the second floor. The front doors on either side of hers were both boarded up, as were 85% of the rest of them in the building.
I knocked hard on the door, but got no answer. I went to knock again when I heard someone sneeze. I’d been worried at first that she was sleeping off her sickness, and that I would wake her, but then I was worried that she deliberately wasn’t answering. I banged again, harder and called out, “Delivery for Ashley Morrison. I need a signature.”
I heard shuffling and more sneezing, then the door opened as wide as the security chain would allow.
Ash blinked at me through watery eyes a couple of times before sneezing, then started to cough.
“Ash, open the door, babe. I’ve brought you some shit to make you feel better.” I called out as she shut the door in my face. “Ash?”
“What the fuck are you doing here, Marley? How did you get this address?” She called through the door, her voice sounding croaky.
“Ash, babe. Don’t be mad. Just open the door and let me in. I’ve got medicine and flowers.”
“Fuck off, Marley. You shouldn’t have come here. I’m gonna kill Lorna when I see her.” She starts to cough again.
