Crazy Mad Life

Chapter Sixteen

  Late that Friday night, Nutty picked me up and drove me to his place. I was as nervous as ever as we sped along the motorway. He got a little annoyed at my backseat driving. Obviously fed up of me telling him to watch lorries, mind cars, keep out of the fast lane, slow down, keep his eyes on the road and leave a little more room when overtaking coaches, he suddenly blurted out, “Stop haranguing me! I’m an experienced driver!”

  “I know, but ….”

  “How many driving lessons have you taken, Yazmin Jones?”

  “Well, I’ve never had a lesson, but I’ve been a passenger …”

  “Exactly! In fact, Yazmin Jones, I’m gonna write bars about this - it’s gonna be the most wicked tune ever.” He glanced at me a couple of times as he said it, which I thought was extremely bad, as he should have been keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m gonna call it Backseat Driver and you can be in the video!” Then he reached out to do some adjustment or something on his satnav whilst driving at seventy miles an hour and I almost had a fit. I also felt hurt by his words and was finding it difficult to hold back my tears. But then I thought how jealous Eyebrow bitch and her mates would be to see me in his next video and I cheered up a bit.

  As always, I was greatly relieved when we left the motorway and arrived in Skindlesworth. Nutty had just parked in his apartment block space when he remembered he was out of bread. He started the engine again and headed toward a local supermarket.

  As we passed a large park, Nutty suddenly shouted, “What the ..?” He was staring at a bench on the edge of the park by the roadside.

  I had to look twice. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Isaac was there on the bench stark bollock naked smoking a spliff!

  Nutty stopped the car and jumped out. “What the fuck blud?”

  Isaac grinned in delight. “Thank you God! Thank you!”

  “Jump in the car before the cops get you mate!” Nutty said urgently.

  Isaac stood up and strolled over to the car, spliff hanging loosely between his lips. The spliff wasn’t the only thing that was hanging - he’d made no attempt to cover himself up! He jumped in the back, still smoking. “I knew you’d come!” he said. “I prayed to God for you to come and you’re here. Praise the lord!”

  “What the fuck are you doing mate?” Nutty asked, his face all stressed.

  “She don’t want me no more,” Isaac sighed. “Threw me out!”

  “Not again!” Nutty exclaimed, holding his head in his hands. “I’ll see if I can persuade her. Oh, and can you put that spliff out?”

  “Have some!” Isaac said, holding it out to Nutty.

  “I’m fucking driving you crazy twat!” Nutty replied. “And you know I don’t smoke coz of my asthma.”

  Isaac put the spliff out. We didn’t have to travel far. Nutty drove to a drab and scruffy four-storey block of flats straight across the road.

  “This is home!” Isaac beamed as we shot into the carpark. Then he went to get out of the car.

  “Stay inside!” Nutty exclaimed. “I’ll ring Janine and try to get you some clothes. There are kids living here!” He grabbed his phone and dialled. “Janine! I’ve got your fella here - he ain’t got no clothes on. What you mean that’s his problem? Get him some clothes woman! It’s fucking freezing out here. You can’t leave your man out here like this gal. Yeah - we’re out in the carpark with Yazmin.”

  I could hear the tone of Janine’s voice change as she said brightly, “Jasmine!”

  Worried we may end up spending half the night with the wacko couple, I sighed heavily. Then a drunken Janine staggered out of the apartment block and threw a long, striped cardigan at Isaac through the backseat window and smiled at me. “Jasmine!”

  “It’s Yazmin,” I corrected.

  Then her face became serious. “What do you think about Lindsay then?”

  “Lindsay?” I asked, totally puzzled.

  “Dump him!” she said, pointing accusingly at Nutty.

  “He hasn’t done anything!” Isaac said angrily. “Just giving her the information so she can make up her own mind,” Janine muttered.

  “Sorry - what information?” I turned to Nutty, my heart beating like a big bass drum. “What’s going on?”

  He just slumped forward onto the steering wheel, head in hands, and said nothing.

  “Nothing’s going on!” Isaac said. “Ignore her.”

  “Something obviously is going on!” I said. “I’m not bloody stupid!”

  “Look at Lindsay Faulkner’s Twitter,” Janine said. “Might be something, might be nothing. But you have the right to know.”

  “It’s a lie,” Nutty said. “Let’s go back to the flat and I’ll tell you the whole story.”

  Isaac jumped out of the car and, after some arguing, Janine agreed to take him back.

  When we reached the flat, Nutty sat me down and said he regretted confiding in Isaac and Janine, as he should have known Janine would get drunk and shout it from the rooftops. When I asked who Lindsay was, Nutty pulled out his phone and showed me her Twitter account. I had a mild panic attack as he turned the screen to face me and I saw exactly who I was expecting to see - Eyebrow Bitch! As I scrolled down the screen, it became apparent the silly girl was obsessed with him. Her profile pic was of her and Nutty. It was probably taken during the night of the Fun video shoot as they were both wearing the same coats. She’d uploaded the Fun video and numerous of his other videos to her account, calling him her boyfriend. She’d tweeted about supposed dates in clubs, restaurants and wine bars. She’d tweeted about their supposed nights of passion together and quoted his most X-rated lyrics in numerous tweets. My hands started shaking so wildly, I had to give Nutty his phone back. Then I rushed to the loo and threw up. I sloped out of the bathroom a few minutes later to find Nutty guzzling a can of lager, looking totally miserable. I sat down beside him and burst into tears.

  “I didn’t do anything!” he said. “I was alerted by one of the Mingin Media crew, after they saw the company name mentioned in a couple of the stupid bitch’s tweets. They could see she was an obsessed nutter by everything she’d written, so they alerted me. I followed her back and sent a private message asking her to stop, but it made her even worse. I’ve unfollowed her now. She’s sick - you can see by her appearance she isn’t right in the head.”

  “She’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” I agreed, finally beginning to believe him.

  He then fetched a pad and paper together with his diary and analysed her entries. “Got her!” he said, finally. “There are three occasions here she claims to have been on dates with me when I was with you. And she’s got photos on here she claims are of my abode - they’re obviously photos of millionaires’ cribs taken from the internet.” He showed me one photo of the outside of an apartment block which she claimed was where he lived. “That’s clearly in America - there’s a fucking New York taxi stopped by the entrance and everything. The girl’s nuts Yaz!”

  I studied the photos. It was true - they did look like they were taken from the internet. Another picture of a café they’d supposedly enjoyed a romantic hot chocolate in looked like it was taken in some Spanish holiday resort. They were such a strange mish mash of photos. It really did look like the girl was one hundred percent crazy.

  I breathed a huge sigh of relief. “The downside of fame!” I exclaimed. “I’ll just get myself a peppermint tea. Want one?”

  We made up that evening and enjoyed toast topped with yummy peanut butter and banana. He told me his family had decided to rent the flat out as they were unlikely to sell it and that a lady with a baby was moving in within the month. Then he invited me to a New Years’ Eve party at Bernard Hazard’s mansion. Bernard was a famous record producer who I’d heard of before - his name had been all over the front of the papers not long ago, after it was revealed he’d had an affair with the prime minister’s wife. Apparently, Bernard had produced many of Dudley’s records and they were good friends. Nutty informed me Dudley would be going and, a
couple of hours later, Suki sent a text to say she and Cliff were going too.

  Around three o’clock in the morning, I was just lying awake gazing at Nutty when I heard a moaning sound which appeared to be coming from the lounge. Then I heard it again. It was followed by the sound of a woman crying. My first thought was that it might be Eyebrow Bitch. Afraid to move, I woke Nutty up.

  “There’s someone in the flat!” I said.

  Nutty put on his robe, grabbed a nasty looking axe from his bedroom drawer, and went to investigate. Then he returned to the bedroom.

  “All clear!” he said. “What did you hear, exactly?”

  “Moaning sounds and a girl crying,” I said shakily.

  “So, I’m not going mad!” Nutty exclaimed. “Isaac brought the Ouija board and we tried to contact Melanie a few nights ago and later on, about this time of night, I heard exactly what you just heard. I almost shat myself - jumped straight into the car and drove to my parents place in my dressing gown! That’s one reason I’ve decided to rent the flat out and go and live back at home for a while.”

  “Bloody hell! Do you think it’s Melanie?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Do you think she died in this flat?”

  “Maybe. One thing’s for certain - I’ll never mess around with a fucking Ouija board again. I feel sorry - a single mother is moving in with her baby.”

  “You’ll have to get a priest in to perform an exorcism, or something.”

  “Yeah - that’s what I’ve been thinking. I couldn’t live with myself believing the lady was gonna be terrified here. She’s a nice girl. She’s had a tough time - her baby father’s an alcoholic. She left him.”

  “Oh God!” I exclaimed. “I know all about alcoholic fathers!”

  “We’re gonna do the place up nice for her - paint it in her choice of colours and stuff and she was well thrilled to meet me - she’s a fan!”

  “Very sweet.”

  “I’ll make enquiries with the church after Christmas,” Nutty said.

  Then there was an almighty thud out in the hall as the coat stand fell over. It had probably just overbalanced again. Nevertheless, we made the decision to leave the flat and spend the night back at my place. We headed downstairs like we were running a marathon and headed for his car. As we were crossing the carpark, our eyes were suddenly assaulted by a series of flashes.

  “What the fuck?” Nutty screamed, stopping in his tracks.

  Then two men slithered out of the bushes like a pair of venomous snakes. One of them was carrying a camera.

  “Is this your girlfriend?” asked the slimy, dirty looking one with the camera. His coarse yellow hair had a good inch of visible dark root.

  “No comment,” Nutty replied.

  “Yes, I am!” I exclaimed, wondering why Nutty didn’t want to say so.

  “What about your other girlfriends?” the same man asked.

  Nutty said nothing.

  Then the fat, bald man next to him screamed at me, “What would you say if I told you he was banging a hundred women - including your mum?”

  I couldn’t help looking shocked as the slimy one went mad taking photos.

  “What does he mean?” I screamed at Nutty furiously.

  “They’re just trying to get a reaction. Get in the fucking car!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “They want to sell fucking papers. Now get in the car!”

  I glared at him. “But why did they say…?”

  “Don’t react!” Nutty said. “That’s what the scum want.”

  Nutty opened the car doors and we jumped inside.

  “Is this why you kept me hidden?” I asked.

  “I never kept you hidden!” Nutty belted out, starting the car engine and zooming away. “You’re crazy!”

  “No!” I protested. “You’re crazy!”

  “It’s a crazy mad life, innit blud?” He screamed, speeding up the road, rather faster than he should have been going in a built-up area and I said no more. I just cried.

  By the time we reached my home, I was hysterical.

  “I wish I’d never got back with you!” I screamed at him.

  “I ain’t done nuffink!” Nutty yelled. “Crazy woman!”

  Then Mum emerged from her bedroom, looking shocked and dazed.

  “Hi Lorraine!” Nutty said, breathing heavily. “We were pounced on by a pair of paparazzi prats. Sit down and I’ll make you both a cup of tea.”

  “I’ll get the tea,” Mum offered, dashing into the kitchen, still looking horribly shocked. She emerged five minutes later with three red mugs and a teapot. Then she sat down with us, poured the tea and gave Nutty a stern look. “What’s this all about?” she asked.

  “You tell me!” Nutty said. “To cut a long story short, Yaz and I decided to spend the rest of the night here and we were pounced on by the paparazzi.”

  “And?” Mum said.

  “And they were shouting loads of balls at us to get a reaction - lies about me shagging loads of bitches - including you, apparently!”

  Mum looked stunned. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

  “You remember the one in the video with the stupid eyebrows?” I asked her.

  Mouth gaping, Mum stared at me. “Where does she come into all this?”

  Hands shaking, I pulled out my phone and tried to get into Twitter, but my brain went all funny.

  “I’ll show her,” Nutty said. “It’s a load of fucking codswallop.”

  He pulled out his phone and showed Mum Eyebrow Bitch’s Twitter. “Romantic date - never happened. Steamy night in my Rolls Royce - never happened - I ain’t got a fucking Roller. My apartment - bollocks - there’s a fucking yellow cab parked outside - it’s fucking New York.”

  Mum’s eyes widened and narrowed continuously as she tried to take it all in. “Well, I don’t know what to make of it,” she said. She reached for her mug and took a gulp of tea. “Do you have an apartment in New York?”

  “Of course not!” Nutty boomed. “Bitch has nicked pics off the web. There’s only one pic of her and I together, and it’s taken at the video shoot - look!” He showed her the photo of the smiling pair wearing the same coats as they wore in the video. “I wouldn’t touch that ugly bitch with a barge pole!”

  “How do you know her?” Mum asked, putting down her mug.

  “One of the lads in the video - Marcus - he’s a mate from school. I asked him to bring a few mates along and she was one of them. I’m gonna speak to him now.” He scrolled down his contacts list and dialled.

  “It’s the middle of the night!” Mum said, astonished.

  “I don’t care!” Nutty replied, putting the phone on loud speaker.

  Then his dazed friend answered. “Nutty?”

  “Yeah mate!”

  “What the fuck’s the time?”

  “Don’t matter - I’ve got something urgent to ask you. That bitch you brought along to the video shoot - Lindsay. She’s causing trouble.”

  “Lindsay?”

  “The one with the straight brows.”

  “Oh right. She’s a mate of a mate. I don’t really know her.”

  “She’s causing trouble wiv my gal. Claims she’s wiv me. Look at Lindsay Faulkner’s Twitter.”

  “It’s the middle of the frigging night man.”

  “OK. Well, she’s got me and her as her pic and is saying we’re a couple and stuff. She’s fucking nuts.”

  “She is a bit of a weirdo,” Marcus confessed. “Didn’t think she’d do anything like that though.”

  “Who’s the mate who brought her?”

  “Nikki,” Marcus replied. “I’ll ask her what’s going on in the morning - we work together.”

  “Ask now!” Nutty demanded.

  “I can’t …”

  “Phone Nikki and ask her now.”

  “OK then,” Marcus replied. “I’ll get back in a bit.”

  “Thanks mate.”

  A couple of minutes later, Ma
rcus sent an apology text to say Nikki’s phone was turned off but he’d left a voicemail. We finished our tea and then all agreed we needed to try to get a couple of hours more sleep if we possibly could and we retired to bed but I didn’t sleep a wink.

  At about half past seven, Marcus phoned Nutty, waking him up. Nutty put the phone on loud speaker again. “Nikki says Lindsay gets obsessions with men. Apparently, she caused some trouble with a married man who lived down her road - almost drove the couple to divorce.”

  Nutty’s eyes widened as he listened. “Why’s she still friends with the crackhead then?”

  “Goodness knows!”

  “Well, it’s a wonder the bitch has got any fucking friends. Pity Nikki brought her. I’m fucking exhausted and I gotta drive back to London.”