Forever Is Over (34 page)

Jim went to prod it. I backed away.

“
It does a bit, yes. It
’
d hurt if you shoved your fingernails into it!
”

“
How long has it been there?
”

“
I
’
m not sure. I noticed it a few months ago.
”

“
Have you shown anyone else?
”
Jim enquired.

“
No, you
’
re the first.
”

“
Aren
’
t I the lucky one?
”
Jim sarcastically noted.

“
Do you think it
’
s something nasty?
”

“
Richie, I
’
ve no idea! Thankfully big lumps on my bollocks are not
something I have experience of. Go and ask your Doctor.
”

             
“
I
’
m not lobbing my meat and two veg out in front of my Doctor!
What if it
’
s nothing? I
’
d look like an idiot.
”

“
Don
’
t go then. When you
’
re in a hospital bed dying of cancer, see
how much of an idiot you look then!
”

Trust Jim to put it so succinctly! Did he think it was cancer? I
thought it was, Jim obviously did too.

“
Anyway,
”
Jim added,
“
you quite happily lobbed them out in front of me!
”

“
That
’
s different, Jim. We share a room, you
’
ve had seventeen years
of seeing me naked.
”

“
As I said
‘
Lucky Me!
’
”

“
I
’
m not going to the Doctor
’
s!
”

“
Show Kelly then. See what she thinks.
”

I was getting flustered with Jim now.

“
Jim , that
’
s an even worse suggestion! I want Kelly to be attracted
to my balls and knob, not scared by them.
”

“
She
’
ll have seen the one eyed white ghost and goolies before
though?
”

I didn
’
t reply. My silence said everything.

Jim continued,
“
She
’
s not seen them yet then?
”

“
NO!
”

“
You
’
re a fast mover, aren
’
t you?
”

Jim had a bloody cheek! Up until six months ago, he had not even been anywhere near a girl, then he started wearing black clothing and
announced he was a
“
Goth
”
.

Dad kept saying Jim looked like a young Johnny Cash, which
pissed Jim off no end, he knew Johnny Cash was a decent looking
lad in his prime but Jim wanted to look like a Goth not a country
and western singer. Nevertheless, the
“
Gothettes
”
seemed to like him.
Several weekends he had come home, woke me up and related his
sexual encounters to me in a little too much detail. Jim thought he was
a
“
Gothic Casanova
”
now.

“
Jim, I
’
m not like you.
‘
Every hole is a goal
’
and all that crap! I
’
m not
in a desperate rush to sleep with the girl I
’
m with before she discovers
what an arsehole I am!
”

I pulled my boxer shorts back up.

Jim cupped his hand to hear his ear.

“
What
’
s that
’
s sound I hear? Oh, I know, it
’
s envy! You
’
re just
jealous, Richie! At least I
’
m not a hunchback with a lump on my back
and a lump on my balls!
”

Bloody hell! Of all people, why had I thought it a good idea to speak
to Jim about this lump? He had now picked up a newspaper and was
rushing around our bedroom trying to squash a fly.

“
You know what I don
’
t get?
”
Jim asked.

“
What?
”

“
Flies. If I was a fly and someone was trying to squash me into a million little pieces, I wouldn
’
t just fly from here to here.
”

             
Jim indicated about three inches.

“
What I would do,
”
he continued,
“
is fly as far away as my little
wings would carry me so the big oaf with the newspaper would not
get a second chance to smash my brains to smithereens. It
’
s a stupid
creature with a stupid name!
“
Fly
”
! We don
’
t call sheep
“
Baa
”
or
“
Grass
Munchers
”
or dogs
“
Woof
”
or
“
Sniffers
”
, because that
’
s what they do,
so why do we call a creature that flies a
“
fly
”
? Madness!
”

I shook my head. Another pearl of wisdom from my lunatic of a
brother!

“
What do you suggest we call them?
”

Jim sneaked up on a fly and smashed his newspaper down, missing
it by a split second.

“
Annoying twat!
”
he muttered.

“
Can
’
t see it catching on!
”
I replied.
“
Just imagine mothers teaching
their kids, this is a bee, this is a wasp and this is an annoying twat!
”

             
“
You
’
re an annoying twat!
”
Jim moaned, putting his paper down
and accepting the fly had defeated him.

“
Look who
’
s talking, Jim! I asked for some advice on my lumpy
ball and all I get is the hunchback insult and some nonsense about re
naming flies!
”

I had sat down by this time on my bed and Jim now came and sat
next to me. I felt uncomfortable as we normally granted each other a lot
of personal space. I
’
d have told him to move but I realised he was about
to launch into some brotherly advice.

“
Richie
”
, he began,
“
excuse the pun that
’
s on its way, but you need
to grow some balls and get down to the doctors and let them have a look
at that ball sack. As I said I
’
m by no means an expert, but I
’
ve seen a
programme on TV about testicular cancer and on that, they said most
of the time, lumps are just harmless cysts. They
’
ll probably just drain it
away. That
’
s not for me to tell you though, Richie, that
’
s for a Doctor
to tell you. Do yourself a favour, Richie and go and see a Doctor! He
’
s
not going to bite it!
”

“
OK, ok! I will! I will!
”

Miraculously, Jim had actually helped. I felt better about it now.
I
’
d never even heard about cysts in your privates, but according to Jim,
that
’
s what lumps normally were. I thought I had cancer, without a
doubt, but in all likelihood, it was a cyst. A harmless cyst! Not sure if
I fancied a Doctor draining it off though, that didn
’
t sound
pleasant,
it sounded humiliating! If it was harmless, maybe I could hold off
visiting the Doctor, I decided, for now anyway. If it got a bit bigger or
more painful, I would definitely go to see the Doctor, but not just yet. I
would probably have to listen to Jim
’
s jokes about odd shaped balls for
fifty years, but that was OK. At least now I felt confident, I would be
around to hear them.

Jemma

Richie Billingham was back on the scene! To give him his due, as
far as I was aware, he had not been near another girl in two years, the
only girl he had eyes for was Kelly. It was hard to know how to feel about
him though, he was obviously smitten with Kelly. If he had just held his
hands up though, admitted to sleeping with me and apologised, both to
Kelly and myself for what he did, I think I could have at least partially
forgiven him. An apology, however, was not forthcoming. Thus, I would
have been happier if Richie had withdrawn from the scene and left Kelly
alone, but it appeared very unlikely that this was going to happen.

One Monday night, just before I was about to get into bed, Kelly
came into my room.

“
Are you alright, honey?
”
she asked.

“
Fine thanks, Kelly, just off to bed.
”

“
What time are you up in the morning?
”

“
I normally get up about seven, have a shower and do my hair before
work. Why?
”

“
Fancy getting up at six?
”

Kelly was not one for asking daft questions. I would not want to
get up at six just for the hell of it, there was obviously something going
on.

“
Why?
”

“
Last Friday, I set Richie a challenge. He had to come here for
fourteen days on the trot, just in a bra and speedos and sing me a love
song from below my window at six a.m! He
’
ll be here in the morning!
Fancy watching?
”

“
You are making him wear a bra and speedos?
”

“
Yes! I
’
m testing him! I want to make sure he
’
s true to his word when
he says he
’
ll do anything for me!
”

Suddenly I had a flashback to a bizarre conversation I had with
Vomit Breath on Saturday afternoon.

“
How long has he been doing this?
”
I asked.

“
Three days so far. It
’
s really funny, you should see him. He
’
s really
cute!
”

“
Kel
ly, you bitch!
”

Kelly looked hurt despite me saying it in a tone that implied I was only joking.

“
I
’
m not a bitch, Jemma! I
’
m telling you, I
’
m just testing him. He
says he
’
ll do anything for me, I want to see if he really will.
”