Chapter Eleven
I felt extremely depressed as Thursday dawned. It was now a week since I’d inadvertently sent Nutty the text and, being my day off, I had plenty of time to mope around and dwell on my sorrows. It was another horrid, gloomy, grey day, which didn’t help. I felt positively desperate.
Much to my surprise, it stopped raining at lunchtime and the sun came out, which cheered me up a little. I looked up into the sky and saw the most beautiful, vibrant rainbow ever. Call me mad, but I took this as a sign to text Nutty. After all, the rainbow might be visible in Skindlesworth too. When my text arrived with the rainbow, he might take this as a sign all would be great from now on. I had no idea whether a rainbow is visible for one mile or a million miles, but I could only try, and this felt like the perfect time. I had nothing to lose. I picked up my phone and, following Suki’s recommendation, typed: Hi. Have just seen the footage of you at the weekend. I’m worried about you. Hope you’re ok sweetheart x. I checked it over. It seemed OK so I pressed send swiftly so Nutty would receive it before the rainbow faded.
Friday was my most miserable working day ever. I spent the whole time with an empty sinking feeling in my stomach because Nutty hadn’t responded to the text. I also seemed to spend the whole working day dealing with complaints, problems and queries. I felt as though I was being punished for hurting Nutty’s feelings. It seemed like instant karma. Then Mum completely forgot she was supposed to pick me up from work and went out for a coffee with Mrs. Petropoulos. I walked home through biting winds and rolled up at the flat feeling cold, shivery and ill. I indulged in a lovely steamy bubble bath, which warmed me up nicely, but did nothing to dull the pain inside.
Half an hour or so later, Mum arrived home with a lovely apricot flapjack she’d bought from the coffee shop to say sorry. I hadn’t eaten properly in over a week, but I devoured the lip-smacking treat in delight, washing it down with a decaf coffee before retiring to bed early with a hot water bottle and sleeping soundly for the first time in days.
As I woke the next morning, I looked at the clock and jumped out of bed in a panic. I’d forgotten to set an alarm and was already forty-five minutes late for work. I dashed into the kitchen, causing Mum to jump and scream ear splittingly.
“I thought you were at work!” she breathed, her chest heaving like she’d just run a mile in a minute.
“I should be!” I said, grabbing a cup of almond milk. “I didn’t set my alarm!”
“Oh God,” Mum said. “I’ll get ready and give you a lift.”
“Thanks Mum!” I said, throwing my empty cup into the washing up bowl with a splash.
I phoned Kalisha’s line, but as usual it was engaged, so I sent Suki a text briefly explaining what had happened.
I took a mega quick shower and, despite being so late, put on my best make-up just in case Nutty should show up at the theatre, declaring his undying love for me.
I managed to get there for five-past ten. Kalisha was OK about it - I’d never been late before and she understood I’d been through an emotional week, so I agreed to lose one hours pay.
It wasn’t the easiest day I’d ever had at work. Suki kept going on and on about her new relationship at every opportunity and the customers seemed more aggressive than ever. It was obviously the run up to Christmas with people feeling under pressure to run around like idiots buying stupid gifts. Dana had a meltdown after one nasty customer called her a butt-faced troll humper and Peter, the theatre manager, was called to tackle some barmy middle aged man who’d stood in the foyer barking like a dog in protest at not being able to get tickets for a long sold out performance. After work, Suki and I walked home together as she chatted excitedly about Cliff and some party they were looking forward to attending that night. We said goodbye, I left her to walk home and then rushed up the three flights of stairs to the flat, relieved to be away from her incessant chattering. I flopped into my favourite squishy purple chair and enjoyed what I could manage of a takeaway meal with Mum before stalking Nutty’s Twitter. He hadn’t been active on the site since the day of our bust-up.
Then I received a text from Suki: Hiya! Come to the party - Cliff says he can get you on the guest list and you can share our limo.
It was kind of tempting, but a bit short notice and I’d only be miserable so I declined the invite.
After a fifteen-minute gap, she sent another text: I wasn’t going to tell you, but Cliff has found out Nutty is going. I didn’t want to say in case he changes his mind and you’re disappointed. The party is to celebrate the tenth anniversary of Fookbrite Records.
My face lit up like a morning sunrise. Without hesitation, I agreed to go. I showered, re-applied my best make-up and slipped into my gorgeous black split side dress and strappy high heels before the limo arrived with a smiling Suki and Cliff inside. I climbed in and we zoomed to London, arriving at the Underground Club within half an hour.
We entered the club excitedly and strode down a corridor which was dimly lit by purple lights, then proceeded down the stairs to the basement. The club wasn’t quite as I’d imagined it to be. I’d pictured a massive nightclub, but it was more like a large, electrifyingly purple, modern bar. The area was full of revellers dancing, drinking, chatting and laughing. My heart pounded as I looked eagerly around for Nutty, but I couldn’t see him.
Suki saw my face fall. “Plenty of time yet!” she said. “We’re gonna have a great time whatever!”
Yeah - a great time for you and Cliff, I thought, my heart sinking like a concrete slab in water. Suki was right though - the night was still young and there was a chance he’d turn up before it was through. I just hoped he wouldn’t react negatively if and when he saw me.
Cliff bought our drinks and we stood together, Suki and Cliff dancing, drinks in hands, and me stood there like a stuffed ragdoll. I was pleased there was no shortage of men eyeing me up - this surely meant I looked great and couldn’t fail to get Nutty’s attention, should he turn up. It was obvious everyone else was enjoying the night a million times more than I was though. I didn’t even bother to force a smile. I just stood there, glass of mineral water in hand, looking miserable and scowling at every male who looked like they might approach me.
Then it happened. After an hour of misery, Nutty entered the club, but he wasn’t alone. He was strolling arm in arm with a stunning black girl. My heart lurched. I wanted to run. I grabbed Suki by the arm and pointed to the couple in horror as Cliff excitedly rushed over and joined them.
“They might just be friends,” Suki said.
“Doubt it,” I replied miserably, wishing I was back home tucked up in bed with a hot water bottle. “I feel like a right idiot.”
Suki stared at them sadly. “He didn’t waste much time, did he? I feel guilty for bringing you now. I’m really sorry.”
Then Cliff gestured toward Suki and I. Nutty, the girl and some timid looking black bloke in glasses who had joined them looked over as Suki and I promptly turned our backs on them and exchanged anxious glances.
“This is so damned awkward,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Sorry,” Suki repeated. “But at least you know now.”
I just wanted to vanish in a puff of smoke and be gone.
Next thing we knew, the group were directly behind us. Suki turned around, but I stood and pretended to study the drinks on display behind the bar. Cliff poked me in the back and caught a tickly nerve, making me jump. I turned around nervously to face the group, embarrassingly losing my balance for a moment as I twisted, but I recovered well.
“Alright Yaz?” Cliff said, right in my face.
I glared at him. “I’m not feeling too great - no.”
“Don’t you want to meet Nutty’s brother and sister?”
Nutty looked more nervous than I did, but he didn’t look angry. He reminded me of the first night we met at the party.
His sister grinned. “Introduce me!”
“This is my gorgeous Suki,” Cliff said confidently. “And this is the lov
ely Yazmin. And these are Aaron and Evie - Nutty’s brother and sister.”
Evie hugged us both enthusiastically. As I hugged her, I looked over her shoulder and Nutty’s eyes met mine. I felt a spark of hope - actually, it was bigger than a spark - it was more like a firework display exploding in time to a wonderful symphony. It was obvious we still liked each other very much. My spirits zoomed skyward like a rocket as his nervous expression morphed into a warm smile and I smiled back.
Nutty and I broke away from the group as he looked at me with a naughty gleam in his eye. “I’ve missed you,” he said. Then he looked at the floor and his face fell. “But I’m not sure I can forgive …”
“Sorry,” I said. “You’re just too gorgeous. I just needed to get used to all those women hanging round you. And I do like the tune - I’ve been too upset to play it since sending the text though.”
“Actually,” he said. “To be honest Yaz, I know it ain’t my best.”
“Perhaps not,” I said. “But it’s fine. It’s grown on me.”
He looked at me suspiciously. “I thought you said you hadn’t played it since…”
“I haven’t. But it’s been going through my head non-stop.” Now that was actually a lie - had the tune been going through my head non-stop, I’d have been carted off to a mental institution days ago, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
As people got more and more drunk and the party became more and more wild, Nutty and I stayed together, dancing and gazing into each others’ eyes lovingly whilst people did mad stuff around us.
Then a burly giant of a man came and tapped Nutty on the shoulder. The pair of us looked up. It was famous rapper Mike Merk. I gasped in shock. Mike had terrified me since I was a kid. I didn’t expect to ever meet him. The tanned MC stood seven feet tall and was built like a bulldozer. He had scary, glassy, dark eyes which made him look like a murderer. Those eyes really struck fear into you. It wasn’t surprising he’d never lost a clash. Just one look could seriously unnerve his opponents. He really did look like your worst nightmare. I remembered watching a clash between him and Nutty once. Poor Nutty had looked like a frightened little kitten and Mike won the clash hands down, as usual.
Mike and Nutty hi-fived each other.
“How ya doin’ mate?” Nutty beamed. “I ain’t seen you in ages man!”
“I’m great!” Mike replied. “Doin’ ma birthday ting blud.”
“Happy Birthday!” Nutty said. “So you share ya birthday with Fookbrite Records!”
“Yeah!” Mike laughed. “Pretty cool party this - and it’s cost me nothing apart from a few drinks and the cab fare!”
“Awesome!” Nutty exclaimed, as they fist bumped.
Then Mike turned his scary, dark eyes on me. “Hi beautiful lady!”
“This is Yazmin - my gal,” Nutty said proudly.
My heart lit up inside like a golden flame as my spirits soared.
“You’re gorgeous!” Mike said. “Nutty’s one lucky bastard!” Despite his terrifying appearance, he seemed like a really sweet guy.
“Thank you!” I beamed. “Happy birthday!”
“Thanks Yazmin!”
Nutty and I chatted and laughed and danced and sang till the night was through. Tonight he was showing me off to the world instead of hiding me. Once more, I was the happiest person alive.
Then I felt someone poke me in the back. It was an old woman who’d appeared from nowhere. She wheeled her zimmer frame out into the middle of the dancefloor, knocking everyone out of the way. She was followed by two other pensioners - a man and a woman who tottered onto the dancefloor with their walking sticks. Then the music stopped and the woman with the zimmer screamed, “Can I have your attention please? We are here tonight to protest against modern music. What we need is some good old fashioned stuff - not today’s crap.”
I almost hit her. Generation after generation of old people have gone on about today’s music being crap and today’s young people having no respect and no manners - the same old person crap recycled and spouted time and time again for hundreds of years, and people were still believing their words because they were old and supposedly wise. I actually stepped forward to say something, but Nutty pulled me back. It’s just as well he did because, next thing I knew, they called for Mike Merk and began taking their clothes off. There was no protest against modern music - they were strippergrams hired for Mike Merk’s birthday! They must have all been over seventy-five. I could hardly look. Wrinkles and sags weren’t my thing, and not Mike’s either by the look of it. I’d never seen the tough rapper look so uncomfortable and embarrassed. He looked like he was going to live up to his name and merk whoever hired such a tasteless act. They’d clearly ruined his birthday. When they’d all stripped down to their incontinence pants, everyone cheered and Mike walked away, looking like he wanted to die.
We left the party shortly after one o’clock in the morning with Suki and Cliff, who zoomed off in the limo. Nutty and I climbed in the VW Polo with Aaron and Evie and we travelled to Hampstead to Nutty’s parents home - a beautiful four storey town house which must have been worth a bomb. I couldn’t believe his parents lived in such a posh house in one of the most beautiful areas of London while he was living in the nastiest part of the notorious Skindlesworth.
I spent the night with him and woke the next morning with a question on my lips about that very subject. “Your family home looked beautiful!” I said, being as tactful as possible.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Lived there all my life till I came here.”
He wasn’t giving anything away, so I added, “Bit of a contrast, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“As you might have gathered, my Uncle died and left it to me and my bro and sis. No one seems to want it so we’ve just dropped the price.”
I wasn’t at all surprised they couldn’t sell it. Who in their right mind would invest in a scruffy, smelly property in Skindlesworth? The place was pretty disgusting and I couldn’t understand why Nutty would want to live there when his parents had such a beautiful house. Of course, I hadn’t been inside their house, but judging by the exterior, the inside was most likely pretty lush. I guess the flat gave him some independence. Or perhaps this was all part of a gold-digging bimbo test. Had Nutty pretended to be poor to see if I lost interest because he was broke?
“Nice for you to have your own little place,” I said, hoping this would prove I wasn’t a shallow airhead.
Nutty smiled. “Yeah - it ain’t bad coz I can live here and pay a little bit of rent to my bro and sis. Not much - just pocket money really. Keeps us all happy though.”
“That’s nice,” I said sweetly.
We spent a beautiful day together with no interruptions, there was a lot of laughter and Nutty cooked the most beautiful tomato and herb pasta dish I had ever tasted. Then he invited me round on Tuesday to watch the premier of the Rub-a-Dub-Dub video he’d shot with Miss Silky. I went home floating on air, so grateful to have been given a second chance with my idol.
Tuesday came and he actually took me out for lunch. I couldn’t believe it! It seemed he was no longer hiding me away or pretending to be so poor. We went to a posh vegetarian restaurant and enjoyed a beautiful three course lunch. He autographed napkins for three members of staff before we zoomed back to his place to watch the new video.
I text Mum and Suki to tell them about the video premier to take my mind off his driving. I kept my eyes closed for the rest of the time.
As five o’clock neared, Nutty switched on his laptop. As five struck, the video became available and Nutty put his arm around my shoulder as it started. My eyes widened in horror as I watched Nutty and Miss Silky Bitch misbehaving to the shocking lyrics Rub-A-Dub-Dub we’re having sex in the bathtub. I felt sick. Mum would probably be showing it to her elderly boss, Mr. Petropoulos, in the corner shop right now. How horribly embarrassing.
Nutty turned to me. “You OK Yaz? Your shoulders have stiffened.”
“I’m fine!” I
said, following the statement up with a nervous giggle.
We watched as the duo practically screwed in an old-fashioned bath tub. I was sure the video was going to be banned. I should have vetted that video before telling people about it. Obviously, Mum was a fan and would be seeing it in time anyway, but I had horrible visions of old Mr. Petropoulos’s eyes popping out of their sockets and Mum covering up her phone screen and apologising profusely. And there was a chance Suki had texted her mum and gran about it. I could almost see their shocked, disgusted faces as they glared in disbelief at the screen.
The rest of the evening was kind of fun - family and friends phoned about the video, including his shocked mother, and Nutty read all the comments about it on social media and YouTube.
“I thought artists weren’t supposed to read comments on their videos,” I said to Nutty. “In case you get upset by trolls and stuff.”
Nutty laughed. “I’m tougher than that Yaz. People are entitled not to like my stuff. I don’t care as long as I’ve got plenty of fans and I’m making dough. Some of the comments are blatantly from jealous dudes anyway.”
“I can imagine,” I laughed.
I had a peek. Most of the comments were complimentary anyway, although a few too many kept on about how they must have got it on after making such a video. Nutty seemed to find those the funniest.
“Her fiancée was there!” he laughed.
I just hoped he wasn’t lying. I really needed to get over my trust issue. I was with my idol Nutty Bonkers for heavens sake! For once in my life I was one of the luckiest people alive.