Chapter Twenty When All Is Said And Done
When Mel and Kwambe knocked on Julian’s flat door, she hadn’t expected Rahul to answer looking like he’d been through a rubbish compactor.
“Your face, mate,” Kwambe remarked in horror.
Rahul rolled his one visible eye and waved them inside.
In the living room, Julian was sat on the sofa, looking smaller than Mel could ever remember.
When he turned to look at them she just about fainted seeing half his head shaved, covered in a fuzz of blondish stubble, a gash running across it stapled together like some kind of science project.
Rahul had said it was bad, but she’d thought he’d just been exaggerating like always, ever the drama queen. She’d had no idea it’d been… this.
“Fuck’s happened to you?” she demanded.
“Oh, this?” He smiled a forced, wan smile and ran a hand gingerly over his shaved scalp.
“One second I’m having a bit of fun dancing round in my pants and the next thing I know I’m slipping on a satsuma and bashing my head in on the table.
Imagine that! Could’ve gone and offed myself all ‘cause I was pissed and Waterloo’d come on the radio.
They’d have put that on my tombstone and everything.
Forget I was a wicked fit singer of a rock band, all it’d say would be ‘Here lies Julian Bloody Collier, lover of ABBA, done in by a satsuma.’ Think we could get the rights from ABBA to play Waterloo at my funeral? ”
Mel had never heard such a steaming load of horse shite in all her life.
As Kwambe sat down beside him, offering condolences and a cheap box of chocolates they’d bought at an off-licence on their way over, Mel raised a wry, quizzical eyebrow to Rahul who was hovering anxiously nearby like a chain-smoking mother hen.
He caught her eye and jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen.
“I’ll put the kettle on, eh?” he said too loudly.
Julian only offered him a benign, distracted smile before he was pulled back into his conversation with Kwambe.
Mel followed Rahul into the kitchen and made sure to keep her voice low when she asked, “Want to tell me what the fuck’s really going on? ”
“That’s rich coming from you,” he muttered under his breath as he kept an eye on Julian over her shoulder and filled the kettle under the tap.
“All right, I get it. You’re cross with me ‘cause I wasn’t around. Now mind telling me who fucked your face and my brother?”
“Keep it down. Fine. It was Michael.”
“Elaborate.”
Rahul lowered his voice further so Mel had to practically stand on top of him to catch his words. For such a big man, he was capable of being surprisingly quiet. “Night before last, me and Jules slept together.”
Mel was horrified. And she demonstrated this by vigorously arching an eyebrow.
“I know, I know,” Rahul cowed. “It just sort of happened, all right? But that’s not the important bit.
See, afterwards we decided we were going to break up with our boyfriends so we could, you know, be together.
Julian was headed to Michael’s to break it off with him.
I broke things off with Henri and came back to the shop but when Julian came back, he was -- well, you’ve seen him.
He was bleeding out and I thought we’d lost him for sure, but we got him to hospital and they patched him up.
Turns out, when Julian tried to dump him, Michael went off the deep end and smashed his head in.
Nearly killed him. Once everything was all right with Jules, I paid Michael a visit and returned the favour.
Safe to say he learned his lesson, even if I’ve got the battle scars to prove it. ”
Rahul looked altogether too proud of himself, so Mel pinched the bridge of her nose under her glasses to keep from punching him. And anyway, he was already punched enough. “You’re a bleeding moron, you know that?”
“Sorry?”
“He could’ve killed you, you pillock. Then who’d Julian have? Eh? Me? He needs you, you knob. Especially now. And you went and did something as shit-eatingly stupid as going after a psychotic bloke like Michael. You’re lucky to be alive. Knob.”
“Hey.” Rahul frowned, looking genuinely hurt. “That’s not fair. I did what I had to do.”
“Oh, so you had to go and get your face smashed in?”
“Well, no, but I --”
“Look, forget it. It’s over. You and Jules are together now, yeah?”
His expression softened considerably and he found Julian again over her shoulder, eyes dreamy. “Yeah.”
“So you take care of him. For real this time. No getting beat up for honour or whatever. You fucking take care of him. He might be my older brother, but he’s my little brother. You get me?”
Rahul nodded gravely, understanding her entirely.
“Good. So you’re gonna try and make a go of it then, the two of you? For real?”
He nodded. And she could tell he meant it. Only then did she begin to relax.
“So,” Rahul said with forced nonchalance as he began to pour the heated water into mugs. “Where were you, then?”
She knew what he meant. “Kwambe.”
He paused in the middle of adding tea bags to the mugs and looked at her quizzically.
“Remember how I left the gig with that fan?” she asked and Rahul nodded.
“Well, Kwambe caught up. He was mad jealous. Turns out, he’d always fancied me.
We spent some time at mine, then went back to his.
Which is yours, I guess. Kind of ironic when you think about it.
You spent ages trying to ring me, but if you’d just rung your own flat, you would’ve found me.
Anyway, me and him are gonna try and make a go of it. Like you and Jules.”
“I guess everything sorted itself out, didn’t it?” Rahul said.
“Nothing gets sorted that we don’t sort out ourselves.” Mel picked up two mugs and tried to muster a smile. She thought she might’ve managed it. “Let’s do right by these boys then, eh?”