Chapter 31

“David, could you come up for a minute?” Sandy called down.

I stood up and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, as I usually did in those days.

At the top I walked to Cal’s door and knocked on it. A soft ‘come in’ gave me permission to enter.

As I walked in, Cal was sat up in bed and Sandy was standing by the window looking out over the back garden.

“How are you feeling?” I asked to neither of them in particular.

“A lot better,” Cal said, “thanks to talking to Sandy.”

I looked at my girlfriend and she smiled.

“I just wish this bloody leg would stop itching,” she replied.

“Not long now,” I answered her, trying to sound encouraging, “you’ll probably be out of it in a couple of days, so, what have you two been plotting while you’re up here?”

“We’ve been talking,” Sandy said.

“Why does that fill me with a feeling of great dread?” I asked.

“Why would it?” Sandy asked.

“My girlfriend and my ex-girlfriend,” I began before noticing a flicker in Cal’s eyes, “have been talking, presumably about something that they have in common, and since the only things I can think of are that you’re both female and me, I assume that the topic of this conversation was not being a girl.”

“And just why do you think we’d be discussing you?” Cal asked.

“I don’t know, and that’s what is filling me with a feeling of dread.”

“Well,” Sandy said, “you’re right. We were discussing you. Specifically, we’ve been discussing your love life.”

“I think I would have preferred you discussing my disgusting personal habits,” I answered, feeling decidedly nervous now, “just how specific was this discussion.”

“Don’t look so worried, darling,” Sandy said, “no specific details have been discussed. This was a more general discussion.”

“All right, what have you been saying about me?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing bad,” Cal said, “it’s just that we’re worried about you.”

“Worried?” I asked, fearful, “worried in what way?”

“A good way,” Sandy said, “relax David, we were just discussing ways of keeping you happy and out of trouble.”

“How could I possibly get into trouble?” I asked.

Cal snorted.

“How long have you got?” she asked.

“As long as you need,” I answered, which got a smile from her, “all right so what’s this big plan to keep me what was it? Happy and in trouble?”

“Out of trouble,” Sandy said, “and we have an idea. But it’s one you need to be on board with.”

“All right, you have my attention, what’s the big idea?”

“Well,” Cal began, “do you remember the first time we split up?”

“I’d like to be able to forget it,” I said, “what about it?”

“You remember how Kathy volunteered to be your fake girlfriend?” she asked.

I agreed that I did.

“Well,” Sandy said, “I assume that at the end of this shoot, you’re going to go back home to England.”

“I think I have to, I’m not sure that my parents would agree to me moving over here permanently.”

“Well the problem you’re going to have is that you’re still the talk of the female teenage population of Castleford,” Cal said, “you’re going to be inundated with girls wanting to be your girlfriend.”

“You know how likely I’m going to take any of them up on that unless Sandy and I are finished,” I said.

“I know that,” Sandy said, “but it will still be a pain in the nether regions for you.”

“So, the pair of you think I need another fake girlfriend?” I asked.

“Exactly,” Sandy agreed, “and who better than the one everybody associates with you anyway?”

“So, you’re saying that, when I go back to the UK, you want Cal to be my girlfriend?” I asked.

“Only to keep other girls away from you,” Sandy said.

“And this despite the fact that you know our history,” I said.

“That’s in the past David, time to forgive and forget,” she replied.

“Easy to say when you weren’t on the receiving end,” I said, “sorry ladies, that is not going to happen. I will not be requiring a girlfriend until I come back to New jersey, or Hollywood, wherever you happen to be at the time.”

I finished and walked out of the room.

As I walked, or more accurately stomped through the living room I thought my mother was going to say something, but my Dad put a restraining hand on her forearm and she remained quiet.

I continued through to the study locked the door behind me and sat behind the desk, I was livid. How could the two of them be so stupid as to think that I’d say yes to that idea. At least any time before hell froze over.

I’d been sat there for twenty minutes, quietly seething, but getting calmer as time went on when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I snapped.

“Me,” my brother replied, “can I come in?”

“Hang on,” I answered and stood, walked to the door and unlocked it.

He followed me in and closed the door behind him.

“Everybody’s worried about you,” he said quietly.

“Tell them not to be,” I answered, listlessly, “I’m quite capable of being worried about me enough for all of us.”

“Take a pew, bro,” I invited him, indicating the sofa.

He sat.

“Drink?” I asked.

“Got any brandy and ginger ale?”

“Cognac or Armagnac?” I asked.

“Cognac,” he answered.

“I’ve got a couple, Martell Cordon Bleu, or another Cordon Bleu bottled in the sixties,” I replied, “but you’re not adulterating that with ginger ale.”

“OK, I’ll take the younger one with the ginger.”

I poured two glasses and handed him one with a bottle of ginger ale.

“Do you ever mix spirits with anything?” he asked, “wait, you’re dinking?”

“Only in the privacy of my own home, where I don’t think the government has a right to dictate what I can and cannot do so long as it doesn’t harm anyone else,” I replied.

“Does Dad know?” he asked.

“I may have shared a small scotch with him occasionally?”

“And what about Mum?” he asked, “does she know?”

“Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked.

“Of course I do, I’m your brother,” he replied, “but no, not on that count.”

“So, apart from drinking my booze, to what do I owe this visit to my holy of holies?”

“I think you may be misjudging them,” he said.

“Misjudging who?” I asked.

“Oh, come on David, you know perfectly well who. Sandy and Cal.”

“Really? What am I misjudging?” I asked, “Sandy’s my girlfriend and I thought she felt the same way about me as I do about her. Now she’s trying to push me off on the girl who seems to spend her life waiting until I fall in love with her then doing something stupid and breaking my heart. Is that what I’m misunderstanding?”

“I don’t think that Sandy was trying to ‘push you off’ on Cal,” he said, “what I think she was suggesting was, genuinely, the same thing you had going with Kathy after Munich. You and I both know that just about every girl from age twelve to twenty in Cas would want to be seen out with you and they’ll all be giving it a try. If you have someone you are apparently going out with, they’ll back off, just like they did then.”

“And you think that would work?” I asked, “at least until Cal got some crazy notion in her head and went off and did what she wanted regardless. And don’t forget the fact that she’ll still be in Manchester. It just wouldn’t work.”

“Then, instead of sitting in here sulking about it, go out there and tell them that. Tell them everything that’s against it.”

“And if they refuse to accept that?” I asked.

“Then I’ll come in here and sulk with you.”

It was when I laughed at that comment that I realised that he’d managed to lift my mood.

“Thanks, Andy,” I said, “that was just what I needed. Come on let’s go and re-join the family.”

Outside in the living room, I found Sandy, but no Cal. I walked across to where she was sitting and held both my hands out.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s go upstairs and talk to Cal.”

“You’re not going to go off at us again, are you?” she asked, her voice tight.

“No,” I replied, “we’ll keep it calm.”

She took my hands, pulled herself up and we set off up the stairs.

In the bedroom Cal was lying on her side, weeping softly.

I sat down on the bed, behind her, Sandy seated at my side then reached over and took her by the shoulders, then, gently I turned her over.

“Come and sit with us Cal,” I said softly.

She swung her legs across the bed, managing to catch my backside with her knees.

“Ouch,” I said.

“Sorry,” she said, “it seems I’ve done that a lot since we’ve known each other.”

“Done what?” I said.

“Hurt you,” she replied.

“That didn’t hurt,” I said, “I was just surprised.”

“I still seem to have made a habit of hurting you.”

“Actually, no,” I said, “most of the time you didn’t actually hurt me. You just caused me to get hurt, so it wasn’t really your fault.”

“How was it not my fault, if you got hurt because of me.”

“Because, yes, I got hurt because of you, but, how many of those times did you ask me to do what got me hurt, and how many times was it because I knew you wanted something and I tried to get it for you.”

“You don’t blame me for all that pain you suffered?” she asked.

“Not for all of it, no,” I replied, “some of it I could have avoided just by saying no. Munich? Yes, I blamed you at first, if you’d turned around and come with me at the Mensa disco, it wouldn’t have been as traumatic for either of us. Solly, yes, sorry, love, but that one was on you, and Manchester, well, just maybe, we’d be better not mentioning that.”

“I’d give anything to go back and do that over, without the same result,” she said.

I looked at her, my eyes locking with hers.

“Oh, no, “she creed, “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

I chuckled.

“I know,” I said, “I think I understand what you meant. But, Cal, we can’t go back, the only way we can go is forward.”