Forever Is Over (35 page)

             
This did not sound like the best of plans to me.

“
Kelly, you can
’
t do that! You decide whether you like them by
gauging how strongly your heart beats when you see them and how
much you miss them when they aren
’
t there. You don
’
t put people to a
test to see how much they will endure for you. You
’
re just tormenting
the poor lad!
”

For a split second, it looked like Kelly was going to cry.

“
I can
’
t believe what I
’
m hearing! Are my ears deceiving me? Are you calling Richie Billingham
a poor lad? You, of all people
!
”

“
It just sounds like a mean thing to do. Vomit Breath was calling me
a slag on Saturday because she reckoned she
’
d come across some hunk
on the path who she
’
d caught red handed leaving my room, post-shag
apparently! She even mentioned that I
’
d tied my bra around his thigh!
I presume this was Richie?
”

Kelly
’
s head bowed a little.

“
Yes. Am I awful, Jemma?
”

Kelly looked at me, her face flush with embarrassment.

“
Do you really want to know what I think, Kelly?
”

“
Please.
”

“
On the one hand, I do think its harsh, but on the other
…
. I think
it
’
s bloody hilarious!
”

Kelly looked at me and we both cracked up. I laughed so hard, I
nearly wet myself. When we finally calmed down, Kelly asked,

“
So do you want waking for tomorrow
’
s performance then?
”

“
Absolutely! I wouldn
’
t miss this for the world!
”

Kelly woke me at 5.45 with a cup of tea. Five minutes later, I was sat
on her bed as she peered through her curtains, awaiting Richie
’
s arrival
and five minutes later again, she excitedly announced,

“
He
’
s here! He
’
s here!
”

It felt like she was announcing the arrival of a beardless Father
Christmas in speedos! Kelly pulled her curtains apart, then opened her
window.

“
Good morning, Mr.Billingham!
”
I peered out besides Kelly.

“
Morning
”
, replied Richie, he appeared a little downtrodden, perhaps
because I was there or perhaps it was because some old couple and their
dog had stopped at the end of our path to watch him. Whatever the
reason, I did feel sorry for him. Despite the
“
Phantom Fucker
”
episode,
despite laughing my tits off the previous night when I heard about this
bizarre routine Kelly was subjecting him to, I did truly felt sorry for
him. I just wanted to run down the stairs and give him a hug. Not a
romantic hug, just a sympathetic one. He looked so silly in his speedos
and white bra that had obviously been manufactured to prop up a bosom
far more ample than Richie
’
s! He looked pale, but his body was really
attractive, long, muscular legs and an athletic, young man
’
s torso with
just a hint of a six pack. For me, this was just confirmation that Richie
was indeed
“
The Phantom Fucker
”
, but my insides did not well up with
hatred, there was just calmness and acceptance.

Richie sang,
“
Have I Told You Lately
”
, a beautiful Van Morrison
song, but he sang it like a cat that was having its tail rammed up its own
backside with a broom!

“
He
’
s crap!
”
I whispered to Kelly.

“
I know,
”
she whispered back,
“
he knows too, he
’
s just doing it for
me! How sweet is that?
”

“
Very!
”
I replied honestly.

I considered for a second whether Ray would do the same for me,
it only took that second to dispel it as a preposterous notion, with the
answer most certainly being,

‘
Not a chance!
’
Ray took himself far too seriously to agree to such
a stunt.

Once finished, Richie gave us a little bow and then he was off back
down the path and we watched him slowly disappear into the distance
down Wigan Road.

“
Do you still really think, Richie, with the way he feels about me,
crept into your room and screwed you that night at the Birch
’
s?
”

I knew why Kelly was asking. It was the same reason she had invited
me into her room to witness Richie
’
s devotion. Richie
’
s feeling for Kelly
were being reciprocated but Kelly felt she needed my consent before
anything happened.

“
I
’
m not sure now,
”
I replied,
“
his body certainly seems different to
the one in the bedroom. I was really drunk Kelly, I can
’
t be 100% sure,
maybe I have made a massive mistake.
”

“
I think you did!
”
Kelly said like a girl excited to be on the verge of
a great romance.

“
I think you definitely did!
”

I gave Kelly a hug. Tactfully, I had given Kelly my blessing to begin
a relationship with Richie Billingham. There was nothing I wanted
more in life than to see Kelly happy and that morning, I realised Richie
would do anything for her and he had the ability to make her happy.
Bizarrely, one of the feelings I had to suppress, as I went to have my
breakfast, before getting ready for work, was a feeling of jealousy. It
wasn
’
t because I was attracted to Richie, far from it, it was just because
big, romantic gestures were not really Ray
’
s style. He might change
though, I told myself, as I finished my cup of tea and toast and besides,
nobody
’
s perfect.

Richie

It was a beautiful summer
’
s day. There were a couple of big, fluffy,
cumulonimbus clouds in the sky and up in the heavens a few whispy
cirrus ones, but other than that it was just a mass of blue sky. Just the
weather I had hoped for, or so I thought, until I was halfway up Holborn
Hill between Ormskirk and Aughton, then I started wishing it was not
quite so hot!

I had told Kelly I would meet her at her house and, weather
permitting, we would go on a picnic. My Mum had bought a brilliant
straw picnic basket which contained everything you could possibly need
for a picnic - plates, plastic glasses, cutlery, a picnic rug, salt and pepper
pots, condiment pots, the only thing missing was the food itself, so I
had been up early and begged a lift o
ff my Mum into Ormskirk to buy
that. I even managed to get away with being eighteen in order to buy
a mini bottle of champagne. I was only a few months off eighteen and
with being tall, no-one ever requested documentation from me.

Despite the heat, I eventually managed to make it up to the top of
Holborn Hill and then by Christ Church we crossed over Northway,
the dual carriageway that ran from Ormskirk to Liverpool. After criss-
crossing along a couple of back roads, we
ended up on Clieves Hill, our
picnic destination point. This was the side of Aughton that I loved best,
small, quaint, nineteenth century cottages, old narrow roads that wound
their way to Formby and Southport and a mass of greenery. From the
hill, you see for miles in all directions. I was in my element, perfect place
for a picnic with perfect weather and perfect company too. Fantastic!

“
Look at the view!
”
I said excitedly to Kelly as we finally stopped
walking and opened the basket to lay down our rug.

“
That
’
s Liverpool over there and just beyond it, that
’
s Wales and
if you look across the other way, you can see Blackpool. Can you see
Blackpool Tower there in the distance?
”
I asked Kelly.

“
Yes. I can see it! It
’
s wonderful up here, Richie! I bet it
’
s great on
New Year
’
s Eve when all the fireworks are going off. Imagine it on New
Year
’
s Eve 1999! It
’
d be amazing!
”

“
Maybe we can come back here with our kids that night!
”
I
suggested.

“
Maybe! All five of them!
”

“
Six
”
, I corrected her,
“
don
’
t forget Looby Trixy Lix!
”

Kelly and I had now been dating for twelve months and both of us
were guilty of making statements presuming we would remain a couple
for the rest of our lives.

“
When we get married, I
’
d like it to be at St. Michael
’
s in Aughton
,”
,Kelly would say,
‘
”
it
’
s such a beautiful church
”
.

Or I would say,
“
When we go on our Honeymoon to Tahiti, which
island will we go to? Do you fancy Bora Bora?
”

Everything was going so well, it just didn
’
t seem natural to think
one day it would come to an end.
We sat down on our rug, looking out across the miles and started
to tuck into our picnic.

“
So when did you say you used to come here?
”
Kelly asked with her
mouth full of a chicken drumstick.

“
Pretty often when we were kids. My Dad used to bring us here. Mum raised us without much help from my Dad really. My Dad was
a gambler, still is, so his Saturday
’
s were spent engrossed in the horse
racing on BBC 1. If he wasn
’
t gambling, he
’
d go to watch Bolton
Wanderers with a few of his mates, so sometimes on Sunday mornings,
Mum would be tearing her hair out because she
’
d had us all week, so
she
’
d say to my Dad, something along the lines of,

“
Can you take the kids out for a couple of hours just to give me
some peace?
”

So Dad would reluctantly bundle us all into the car, buy a newspaper
and take us somewhere. If it was a nice, pleasant day, he would get Mum
to make us a picnic and bring us here. If it was raining, he
’
d normally
take us to Southport and let us loose in the Amusement arcades. He
’
d
normally end up on the fruit machines too!
”