Changing Lives by Mabel Marsters

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 :: 20 :: 21 :: 22 :: 23 :: 24 :: 25 :: 26 :: 27 :: 28 :: 29 :: 30 :: 31 :: 32 :: 33 :: 34 :: 35 :: 36 :: 37 :: 38 :: 39 :: 40 :: 41 :: 42 :: 43 :: 44 :: 45 :: 46 :: 47 :: 48 :: 49 :: 50 :: 51 :: 52 :: 53 :: 54 :: 55 :: 56 :: 57 :: 58 :: 59 :: 60 ::

Chapter 6

They’d been in London for two weeks and things had settled into a comfortable routine. At first both William and his mom, Jayne, had been very aware of everything they did and said, being careful to be on their best behaviour and not wanting to cause any inconvenience. But now they’d started to relax and feel more at home in Julia and Thomas’ house. They stopped asking if they could get a drink or a snack and started just to help themselves.

William still remained shy when around his Uncle Thomas; he felt a little nervous of him although he knew there was no reason to be. He reminded him a bit of his dad, well, of what he could remember of him. He was tall and fair-haired but there the similarity ended. William had no recollection of his father being anything but harsh, drunk and aggressive. Thomas was the total opposite - warm, kind, quick to smile and laid back to the point of driving his wife crazy! He was only around in the evenings and at weekends, as he had to go to work each day. In two weeks time he’d booked a week’s vacation so he could join the others on their days out.

Ooooooo

Before Jayne and William’s arrival, Julia had told James as much as she could about the problems William had been going through. She’d received that desperate letter from her twin a couple of months ago after several years of estrangement - her sister didn’t have a telephone or computer so she couldn’t contact her like that - and for years her letters remained unanswered. So Julia had just sent Jayne and William presents each birthday and Christmas hoping they’d get in touch.

The letter had been shocking to read. Her sister had obviously written it when she was drunk as it was a jumbled mess listing all of their troubles. Alcohol abuse was obviously Jayne’s worst problem. Julia had hoped that things would have improved when Steven had been jailed but they’d obviously gotten even worse. She’d tried to help in the early days but it was hard if not downright impossible to help someone who didn’t want to be helped.

It was for William that her heart really went out to - bullied remorselessly for years at school, subject to his mother’s drunken rages at home, no friends to lean on. It was amazing he’d managed to keep up with his schoolwork at all, let alone be top of his year. Despite everything he still cared for his mother. Julia had been thrilled how well the boys had got on right from the start with James’ confidence and happy-go-lucky nature rubbing off on William, who now smiled a lot more and fooled around with James, only reverting to his timid former self when Thomas was at home and Julia could guess the reason why.

Oooooo

The boys were up in James’ room, which they were sharing, downloading some music onto an iPod that William had just been given.

“So wot sort o’ stuff do yer like?” asked James.

“Um, well, I’m not really sure,” said William.

“Aw c’mon, you’ve got to know some of wot yer like.”

“I’ve never really listened to anything,” replied William.

“Yer kiddin’, right? How many CDs ‘ave yer got? Yer must ‘ave some favourites,” insisted James.

“I haven’t got any,” said William quietly.

James looked at him.

*“Shit, Mum wasn’t exaggerating when she’d said wot a crap life William had.” *

“God. I’m sorry, mate,” he said, “I tell yer wot, I’ll put on all sorts o’ stuff I like, listen to that for a week and then we can delete wot yer don’t like and put on more o’ wot yer do, that sound okay?”

“Yeah that’d be good, thanks,” replied William.

James regarded his cousin for a minute or two then decided to bite the bullet.

“So wot’s the score wiv you at school?”

“What do you mean?” said William, flushing and not meeting his eye.

“C’mon mate, yer can tell me, might ‘elp to talk yer know,” coaxed James.

“Ow’s it gonna ‘elp?” mimicked William, trying to disguise his embarrassment.

“Hey, that was really good,” exclaimed James, “but no getting’ out of it. C’mon, yer can tell me. I ‘ad a bit o’ trouble once wiv’ bloke at school, so I know wot it can be like.”

“What did you do?” asked William curiously.

“Hit the bleeder across the classroom one day. Dunno who was more shocked, ‘im, me or the teacher!” laughed James.

“What happened after that?” asked William, eyes wide.

“I got suspended from school for a week. Mum and Dad went mental. I broke a bone in me ‘and but he never even looked sideways at me again.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that to Angel,” said William, “He’s huge.”

“The bigger they are the ‘arder they fall, mate,” said James, “’An Angel? Wot sort o’ name is that? Sounds like a bleeding poofter if you ask me.”

“You haven’t seen him,” said William, “He just never gives me a break.”

He went on to tell James about what life was like at school, hesitantly at first then finding that James was right - it did help to talk about it. James couldn’t believe his ears, the poor guy went through hell everyday.

“Was it ‘im who did that?” he asked, pointing at William’s eye, although now ok it had still been visibly bruised when he’d arrived.

“No.” He looked James in the eye for what seemed like an age then added, “No, that was my mom. She didn’t mean it, just sometimes she gets a bit, well, a bit upset when she drinks too much.”

“Soddin’ ‘ell, Will, do yer ever ‘ave any fun?” asked James.

“Um, I did see a band play the night before I flew over here - Dingoes Ate My Baby,” said William.

“Great name! Were they any good? Who did yer go wiv?”

William blushed.

“Just a couple of friends.”

“Yer can’t fool me, one of ‘em’s a girl, right?”

“Yeah, but Angel messed that up too,” replied William with a sigh, as he told the whole story.

“I’m sorry, Will, but I ‘onestly can’t believe you fell for that. ‘Course she wasn’t dancing wiv’ the git, they set you up.”

“I know, but I just panicked I suppose. I couldn’t believe she liked me, so it was easy to think Davey was telling the truth,” replied William.

“Why wouldn’t this, wot’s ‘er name, Buffy, like yer?” asked James, “I mean yer a good lookin’ fella.” He grinned at William. “Yer must be ‘cause yer look like me! So are yer gonna call her up then?”

“No, God no!” said William, “I couldn’t do that.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He’d kept it in the pocket of whichever jeans he wore ever since she’d given it to him. “I’ve got her address - I was going to send her a card but now I’m not so sure.”

“Yer’ve got to send ‘er one! C’mon, let’s go find something to send ‘er,” said James.

William followed James downstairs.

“Mum, we’re off out, be back for dinner, okay?” shouted James as he opened the front door.

“That’s fine, have fun, boys, but be back by six.”

“Will do,” replied James.

Ooooooo

The two boys walked along the road, then hopped onto a tube train to get to a bigger selection of shops than in the leafy suburbs where James lived.

“Why have we come here? Couldn’t we just have got a card at that shop on the corner? asked William.

“Yeah, we could’ve, but I’ve got a couple of other things I want to do, if yer up for it?” said James.

“Oh no, what are you planning?”

“Well yer know ‘ow I said we could ‘ave some fun wiv ‘ow alike we look?”

William nodded.

“Well, I think we need to put it into practice.”

They stopped outside a barber’s shop.

“I can’t get my ‘air to grow overnight. Wot do yer reckon about ‘aving yours cut?”

“Won’t the fact I wear glasses sort of give the game away?” countered William.

“’Ow blind are yer wiv out ‘em? Could yer ‘andle a party wiv out wearing ‘em?”

“Yeah, I’d be okay for that, I think,” said William, thinking how it would make a nice change to be the one playing the tricks.

So in they went and a short time later out came the two boys, now sporting identical haircuts. They were laughing as they hit the street. The barber had asked them if they were twins, so William had mimicked James’ accent and he’d believed them when they said they were.

“Yer good at the old accent,” said James, “’Ow are yer at being a bit bad?”

“What are you thinking of now?” asked William. He’d soon realised that James was always up to something.

“Yer can ‘elp me out, Will,” said James, “I’ve wanted to do this for ages but I reckon if we both do it at least the heat will be spread between the two of us. I know me mum won’t ‘ave a go at yer.”

“What are you going on about?”

“I want us both to get a tat,” said James.

“A what?”

“A tat, yer know, a tattoo.”

“God, James, I dunno about that. I don’t want to get in trouble, anyway aren’t we too young?” protested William.

“Dunno but if we are we can lie! C’mon, Will, live a little! I’ll pay. Yer can show Buffy when yer get back ‘ome,” urged James.

“Well I suppose we could just go and have a look,” said William.

“Great stuff,” said James, “It’s just down ‘ere. We can get a card on the way and decide wot to say while we’re ‘aving ‘em done.”

William had no intention of getting a tattoo done. He was sure his mother would freak and equally sure he’d get more grief from Angel than ever if he saw it, so he was quite surprised when a couple of hours later the pair had emerged, both with sore spots on the top of their right arms where a tattoo had been drawn. They’d both had the same design, a tribal marking that meant bravery/valour. James decided that having such a mark might inspire William to stand up for himself a bit more, plus it looked wicked cool! He’d made William have his done first, certain that he’d bottle out if he’d had to wait.

They’d had some fun deciding what to write on the postcard to Buffy, William flatly refusing to get a jokey card and instead selecting a rather boring one of Buckingham Palace.

“Yer could’ve at least got one of the statue of Eros, that’s a landmark too and would give ‘er a hint that yer like ‘er,” James had joked.

“No, this one will be fine,” replied William.

“Fine? That’s hardly wot yer should be aiming for to woo the girl of yer dreams!”

“Shut up, James.” William gave his cousin a playful thump on his arm.

Eventually they’d settled for the not very original ‘having a great time, seen lots of the sights already’ followed by, at James’ insistence, ‘sorry I left The Bronze without talking to you, missing you. Phone me?’ and then James’ home number. He just put his name at the bottom, omitting the ‘love, William’ that James wanted him to put.

They walked to the post box and William stood there, card in hand, psyching himself up to post it.

“Aw, for God’s sake, mate!” said James, snatching it and putting it in the box.

“James!”

“Wot? Yer were gonna post it eventually, this way we’re not late for dinner!”

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