Page 90 of Kicks
“Really?”
“Yes. Now get it done and please have a shower. I’ll find alcohol. I fear I’m going to need it.”
Scott jumped off the bed. He opened Eddie’s window before giving him a pointed look and flouncing out of the room.
Eddie stared at his phone that he’d left on the side when Scott’s head appeared around the doorframe.
“And don’t even think about lying to me and not calling him. Because I will know.”
He disappeared again. Despite the turmoil he had found himself in, Eddie would be nothing without that force of nature. Maybe it wouldn’t be all that easy to up sticks and run away.
With a sigh, he got up off the bed. He grabbed his phone and dialled. His heart was racing. What if Billy actually answered? That wasn’t part of the plan.
When it went to voicemail, Eddie wasn’t sure if he was upset or relieved. Was Billy in his apartment watching his phone ring out? Or was he simply too busy?
“Hello, Billy here. You know what to do.”
Just hearing his voice made Eddie want to cry. It had only been a day but already it was as though Billy had been firmly consigned to the past.
“Hello, it’s me. Eddie.”
He’ll know it’s me. The one who broke his heart.
“I just wanted to see how you were. I…oh I’m shit at doing this. Listen, I miss talking to you. Is there no way we can fix this? Please, just get in touch.”
He terminated the call and threw the phone on the bed. Of course, he’d come across as desperate but he didn’t care. He was desperate.
“The shower’s running,” Scott shouted through.
“Thanks. I’ll be right there.”
The world in the street below was going on as normal. A car drove down towards town while a cyclist headed for the promenade. The people across the way were sitting in the front garden, their faces firmly toward the sun.
And there was Eddie. He gripped the windowsill tightly as though he feared being deserted by gravity itself. With no one to see, he gave himself up to the sobs that had been clawing their way out of him all day.
TWENTY
BILLY
The late afternoon was morphing into early evening as Billy walked along the path. He made his way underneath the branches of the horse chestnut tree where dapples of sunlight fought their way through. They danced in front of him as a slight breeze disturbed the old branches.
Billy nodded to an older couple who passed him.
They were the first people he had encountered since arriving. After the hustle and bustle of Brighton life, it made a welcome relief to find such stillness.
His body automatically brought him to the little spot, just near a wall, where he’d experienced one of the worst moments of his life. Billy stood transfixed. Every time he came here, he would relive it all over again.
“Hello, Mum,” he said.
He crouched down and gently rested the posy of flowers he’d bought at the florist van by the gates. Then he pressed his fingertips to the cold stone that declared his mother’s details. Every time, he fancied he might feel a connection to her. He was always disappointed.
Billy liked to think that she was a long way from this spot. Hopefully somewhere that made her happy. Even so, he’d come here for a chat.
If you can fire some wisdom my way, Mother, I’d appreciate it.
The ground was dry so he settled himself by her stone. He made sure he wasn’t sitting on anyone else. She would be after him if he disrespected any of her neighbours.
He smiled to himself. Her dulcet tones would smash through any silence if he or Harry had done anything wrong. They would try to blame each other. Yet their mother had a way of getting to the truth in record time.
