TWENTY-FIVE
Elton
The walls rattle as the door slams for the third time today.
I keep saying the wrong thing and I don’t know how to fix it.
The smallest comments set her off, I just wanted to know why she hasn’t been spending time with friends.
I’ve moved her to a new school and if she’s not settled in I need to know.
Is this just standard teenage hormones, or is this a deeper problem? Are there feelings that she can’t name? No one should feel like that. Like a black hole you keep spiralling down with no help in sight.
When I was a boy, late at night under the safety of my covers, the yelling would start.
The music would get louder, the sound of doors slamming, feet stamping up and down the stairs filling me with dread as I waited for them to stop outside our room.
I would get into MJ’s bed and cradle her, praying I could keep her calm enough to not draw attention to us.
As I rocked her and stroked her hair, I would keep an eye on her breathing to make sure it stayed steady. The only sign she was calm and safe.
Then the world would start to distort around me. The walls would move away, my skin would tingle as if I was shrinking. I felt so small and insignificant. I needed to protect MJ and I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough to beat away the world. I was incapable.
She can’t know that place, I have to keep her safe, I won’t let her down like I did MJ. I slide down the wall opposite Neive’s room. She needs to know I’m here when she’s ready to talk.
I text the one person who can fix my brain fog.
Neive is mad at me.
Reilly responds straight away.
Why?
Because I’m a terrible person …
I delete.
I continue to let her down …
I delete that too.
Reilly can’t see my inadequacies. Before I can find a way to respond, another text from her comes through.
Come meet me at the beach.
I would love nothing more than to ignore all this and spend the day with Reilly. She has become more important than the very air I breathe.
I can’t leave Neive today. I’m sorry.
I wish I could. I want nothing more than to bury my head in the sand, or better yet in between Reilly’s legs.
I meant with Neive you idiot.
Of course Reilly would be putting Neive first. I brace myself to knock on Neive’s door. I have no idea what awaits me on the other side. Please let her be up for this, I don’t know how else to pull her out of this mood. The buzz of my phone pulls me away from my anxiety.
I’ve called her. She’s packing her stuff and will meet you at the car x
The cloud in my brain clears, knowing Reilly has this covered. Though the seed of guilt creeps in … it should be me solving these problems. It’s not Reilly’s responsibility. It’s mine.
~
Another slam – this time the car door – as she storms away before I’ve even turned the engine off. Clearly Neive is still holding resentment towards me despite her eagerness to see Reilly. She was silent on the way here, grunts and eye rolls being the only response to my attempted conversation.
Jeeves pulls up next to me in his old Jeep Wrangler. Despite his ridiculous salary he insists on running things into the ground before renewing.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, knowing full well the beach is not his thing.
“Reilly texted me,” he responds, as if this is a perfectly reasonable thing to happen.
“You and Reilly text?” I ask, trying to tamp down the undeserved jealousy. His shrugged response as he lifts a duffle out of the car only stirs the caveman in me more. But Reilly’s personality is infectious, and even the darkest beings can’t hide from her light.
My eyes scan the beach following the path Neive ran, the wind whipping up the sand and the waves crashing as they break on the shore.
The sun won’t set for a couple of hours, the clouds have cleared and the sky is bright as it often is after a heavy storm.
I should have wrapped Neive up a bit more, the wind can be biting this time of year.
Reilly waves me and Jeeves over, as she marks something out in the wet sand, Chip running circles around her.
He only ever runs to the right, probably due to his missing leg.
Sarah is already corrupting Neive with copious selfies – for a school teacher she can be a terrible influence.
Jeeves sets his sights on Thea, and opens the bag to hand her a number of small wooden cones.
They walk together, setting them out in a large circle. What has Reilly got planned?
“Rounders,” she tells me as her hands slip round my waist. I pull her into my side and plant a kiss on her forehead.
“Rounders? There’s only six of us.”
“Yes. Rounders.” As if that answers all questions.
Sarah’s voice carries across the sand as she yells at Jeeves; I can tell he finds her irritating yet he holds his ire around her.
“Jeeves, there’s six of us! Three people per team.
You’re only supposed to put out three markers.
I thought you were a numbers guy?” Jeeves glares daggers at her, but a gentle touch from Thea is all that’s needed to pull him out of his death stare as they reset three base points.
I point out we are going to need a separate bowler to make this work.
Jeeves fixes that with a quick phone call to Charles, who only needed to hear the words “rounders” and “Westcliff” and immediately dropped whatever he was doing, or more likely whoever he was doing, claiming he would be with us in ten minutes.
“So how’s this going to work?” I ask Reilly, the woman with a plan.
“Simple, three on each team, Charles is last so he can be the bowler and we’ll all swap the teams round at some point.” Chip barks in agreement. She makes it all sound so well thought out. Sarah takes her place next to Reilly to address the group.
“Elton and Jeeves are big and strong so you’re on a team each, then me and Reilly on a team each because we are fast and cunning.
And Thea and Neive on a team each because, well you’re both here too.
I’ll take Elton and Neive.” She wraps her arm around Neive’s shoulder.
“Let me show you how it’s done, rookie,” she teases, breaking a laugh out of my troubled teenage niece.
Charles makes his way over, a little flushed in the face, as we are all getting in a few practice swings, Chip helpfully returning the ball each time. He could become a problem in this already problematic game.
“That was fast. Where were you?” I ask.
He winks in answer and I don’t actually want to know.
Reilly
I may have overestimated how this was going to work.
It’s pure chaos. We have no real rules, no one can agree on anything.
Sarah is barking orders, Charles is winding her up.
Thea and Jeeves are failing at keeping their attraction hidden.
Despite all this, Neive is laughing, so I’m calling this a win.
We’ve managed to come to an agreement that one of us hits the ball, runs and we all attempt to get the ball before Chip does.
It’s my turn. Rounders was my game growing up.
I’m fast, really fast, and when I do manage to hit the ball I can really whack it.
After a few pitiful throws from Charles, he’s finally wised up that we women can wield a bat with actual force.
We actually might have him a little scared.
Bar Thea. She has all the sporting ability of a panda: cute and cuddly, but ultimately useless.
No wonder they are so rare – both Thea and the pandas.
Elton has Thea at second base. There’s only three bases but we’ve set them pretty far apart to give a little competition to the game.
He’s been giving me fuck-me eyes every time I step up to bat.
And if he wants to play dirty, then dirty is what he gets.
I slip off my sports jacket, leaving myself in a tight pair of high-waisted leggings and my sports bra.
Despite the chill, his presence is heating me from the inside.
His eyes light up as I hold the bat over my shoulder, wiggling my hips, giving my best League of Their Own pin-up pose.
He runs his hands through his hair, pops his cap on backwards and blows out a breath.
His eyes darken, and he clenches his hands on his knees as his glare promises me retribution.
“Keep it clean, people,” Thea yells, as Sarah makes gagging noises. Elton smirks and winks at me.
Charles takes that moment to hurl the ball towards me – he saw an opportunity and took it, cheeky git. Luckily, as I said earlier, I’m quick. I smash the ball as it hurtles past everyone. Chip speeds off as they all scramble to grab it before him.
I leg it, the sand slows me but I make it to the first marker just as Chip scoops the ball with his mouth.
Elton is right behind him though and grabs my little Bordie, wrestling with him as he makes his way back to second base.
He must have managed to get the ball and let Chip go as I feel the unmistakeable hard body of this man behind me.
His arms wrap around me as he pulls us down, flipping me on top of him so he takes the hit of the fall.
He rolls us over and settles himself between my legs, his solid thigh resting at my core.
His arms have encased me and he clutches the back of my head in his ridiculously manly hand, rolling me over so I feel the full weight of him on top of me.
I would like to say the fall knocked the air out of me, but it’s him.
Elton, cradling me, smiling at me as he twirls one of my red curls around his finger.
He leans down and whispers against my ear, “I love the feeling of you beneath me.” I shiver at his words, this day of flirting is building to one hell of a night.
A groan pulls me out of the moment. Neive stands next to us, chucking the ball in the air. “Can you just not!” She turns and walks away from us. “I tapped you out by the way.” She laughs as she stalks off to join the others.
Elton stands and pulls me to my feet. I brush the sand off myself while he shakes it out of his hair.
“Stop shaking like a dog, you’re getting it all over me.
” This is the best version of Elton: messy and relaxed.
I can’t wait to have him tonight. “Did you get your all okay text from the clinic?” I ask him.
We have both done the responsible thing and got ourselves tested now we are in a committed relationship.
“I did, did you?” I nod in response, biting my lip. Safe sex is hot sex.
He grabs me and growls in my ear making me squeal. It’s so painfully cringeworthy, but why do I feel my core tighten as I jump and wrap my legs around him, pushing myself against him, hoping to feel a bit of friction to placate the burning desire in me.
“Seriously, Uncle Elton! I will walk home right now. By myself!”
“Squirt, leave the lovebirds be.” Charles grabs the rounders bits and hands Neive the bag. “Everyone back to Elton’s for a takeaway.”
Elton groans. I baulk at his clear annoyance at the open invitation from Charles. “Did you rather we didn’t come over?” He probably wants time with Neive.
“I want you to come over. Everyone else can fuck off. I have plans for us.”
“Get through the evening, and you have me till morning.”
“That better be a promise, Reilly. You’ve given me a new baseball-player fantasy I didn’t know I had!” He squeezes my arse as we head back to the car. Just another day of me falling ever so slightly more for him.