Painted Faces (48 page)

“
Well, you did say he wasn't the full shilling,” Nicholas adds. I like it when he uses my Irish phrasing back to me. “I'll call Phil in a minute and tell him what we know, then we can go to the station and tell them about Aaron.”

I'm just about to agree, anger consuming me, when suddenly an idea surfaces. Okay, so I know it's not the mature,
legal
thing to do, but I kind of want to get my own back at Aaron before we turn him in to the cops.

I put my hand on top of Nicholas' and ask, “Can we wait just one more day before we do that?”

He eyes me curiously and puts his phone down on the bed. “Why?”

“
I have a devious plan,” I tell him.

He pulls me closer on his lap and trails a finger down my arm.

“
Oh really? Do tell,” he says, eyes alight with interest, and I explain to him what I have in mind.

Thelma and Louise

Have you ever tried to laugh silently when your whole body just wants to break out into a furious bout of giggles? Well, it's no easy feat, let me tell you.

It's two o'clock in the morning as Nicholas and I creep around the front of Aaron's nondescript, red brick house, where his pride and joy sits, all shiny and clean. A black Ford Mondeo that he's had since he was in college.

He has a weird OCD thing about this car. Even though it's kind of old and he has the money to replace it, he never does. He just continues to keep it in pristine condition. Aaron doesn't like change; I guess that's one of the reasons why he started stalking me after I broke up with him in the first place. He couldn't seem to move on to someone different. I'd feel sorry for him if he weren't so cruel and calculating on top of it all.

We had to go to an art and craft supply store, as well as a DIY warehouse, to get what we needed for my devious, and yes slightly whimsical, but also very much illegal plot for getting our payback. I dip the paint roller into the bucket containing a mixture of wall paper paste and gold glitter, before running it over the hood of the vehicle.

Nicholas is busy plastering rainbow stickers all along the bumper, quietly snickering like a kid sneaking candy in the middle of the night. That's right, we're turning Aaron's car into a poster vehicle for gay pride.

Okay, so I know what you're thinking, isn't it going to be a little bit obvious that it was us who did this? And yes, it is going to be obvious. Perhaps that's the point. The thing is, I know Aaron well enough to predict that he won't be reporting our little vandalism to the police, since he is strange and proud. Crazy proud, emphasis on the crazy.

He'd rather let us get away with it than have the police come to his house and see what a delight we have made of his car. He would never in a million years draw attention to himself or make a spectacle for his neighbours to see.

I pick up the bag of silver star shaped cut outs and spread them over the hood so that they'll stick to the glittery paste. Nicholas finishes with the rainbow stickers and begins painting the tires luminous shades of pink and orange. A flutter of glee goes through me. I feel like a mischievous pixie carrying out a prank with an aesthetically pleasing result. Of course, that all depends on your personal taste, because I'm sure Aaron won't be finding it aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

Once we're done we stand back and admire our handiwork, not forgetting to take a few pictures on Nicholas' phone so that we can show Phil proof of our secret revenge. We dump everything into black bags, making sure not to leave a speck of evidence, just a dazzling, multi-coloured masterpiece of a Ford Mondeo. We even put a big purple bow on the roof of it.

Aaron drives this car into work every morning, so he's going to throw one hell of a hissy fit when he strolls out his front door and sees what we've done. I wish I could be here to witness his reaction. And anyway, it serves the bastard right. In fact, he deserves a lot worse. One of those scumbags could have seriously injured any of us that night. The brick had almost hit me in the head. I could have
died.
This little prank is nothing compared to what he deserves, and I hope that once we turn him in to the police tomorrow that he gets his comeuppance.

We drive out to the nearest landfill site to dump the evidence. We haven't stopped laughing since we got into the car and drove away from Aaron's street. It must have been the hour we spent holding it all in that's caused it to build up to us giggling to the point of delirium. Every time our laughter starts to die down we simply glance at each other and it starts up all over again.

We're almost home by the time we finally manage to come to our senses. Nicholas reaches over and takes my hand into his.

“
You know what Fred, even if Aaron did decide to turn us in, I would happily go down with you for such a wonderful crime.”

“
Oh no no,” I declare, as he raises my hand to his lips for a brief kiss. “They'll never take us alive Viv, we'll drive off the edge of a cliff - Thelma and Louise style.”

He laughs and looks at me with a warm expression and a short, thoughtful silence ensues.

“
You colour my world, Freda,” he whispers into the quiet of the car, just as he parks and cuts the engine.

It's funny that he says it, because I had always considered it to be him who coloured mine.

“
Ditto,” I say. My tone goes serious when I tell him softly, “I love you.”

“
I love you too,” he answers, before pulling me out of the car and inside the building.

Later on I rest my head on Nicholas' shoulder as we sit in his living room in front of the television. He picks up the remote control for the old VCR player he bought and presses the play button. A moment later the video starts running; the camera work is a little shaky. The spotlight is on a woman on a stage in a small club. Nicholas' mother. She's sitting by a piano and playing a slow, jazzy song intro; a minute later she starts to sing. Her long black hair is resting on one shoulder and she's wearing a pretty velvet dress.

In this moment I genuinely understand how Nicholas could have seen this as a young boy and wanted to replicate it. She's beautiful and so is her singing. I take his hand into mine and rub my thumb down the centre of his palm. We sit back and watch the rest of the video, immortalizing a moment in the life of a woman now gone from the world.

It's two weeks later to the day that we hear how the guy Aaron paid to attack us identified him to the police and now Aaron's being charged. It's the same day that there's a party going on down at The Glamour Patch to celebrate its six month anniversary since opening.

Nicholas and I are planning on getting dressed up and having a night to remember. In fact, I've been having a lot of memorable nights lately. I've hardly slept in my own bed since coming home from Electric Picnic. Draw your own conclusions.

True to form, Aaron never said a word about what we did to his car. Phil nearly had a heart attack he laughed so hard when we showed him the pictures.

I've gone back to being Nicholas' show assistant, even though I now know that the whole thing had been a sham from the beginning. The thing is, I love feeling a part of his performances and I don't want to give it up.

Tonight Nicholas is wearing black trousers, a crisp white shirt and a thin grey tie. He's leaning back on my bed, looking like he should be on an advertisement for expensive men's cologne, as I step out of the shower and into the room, wrapped in a towel.

I go to have a look through my wardrobe for something to wear, then I feel myself being yanked backwards and thrown onto the bed. Nicholas kisses me softly on the lips before announcing, “I'd like to dress you tonight.”

I raise a sceptical eyebrow. “You want to dress me?”

“
Yes, you dress me all the time for my shows. It's time for me to return the favour.”

Now, normally if a man wanted to choose my outfit I would tell him where to go, but since Nicholas probably has better taste in women's clothing than I do, I shrug my shoulders and agree to let him have his way with me. It's after I do this that a devilish grin shapes his lips and he pulls a bag out from under the bed.

“
What's that?” I ask, eyeing the bag that looks all too much like it contains new lingerie for my liking.

“
A present,” Nicholas replies.

He pulls my towel loose so that I'm naked. His eyes peruse me slowly, but he doesn't touch. Instead he opens the bag and pulls out sheer lace stockings, suspenders, and a lacy black matching set of bra and undies.

“
Mr Turner, you're making me blush,” I joke, as he comes toward me with the bra.

“
Don't worry darling, I love it when you blush,” he returns, and then proceeds to dress me in the lingerie he bought, copping several feels along the way. It all fits perfectly, and when he's done I stand in front of the mirror, wondering who this woman is before me, all decked out in sexy under garments.

The next thing I know, Nicholas is pulling that red dress he got for me weeks ago out of my wardrobe and slipping it on over my head. It feels like it's melding to my body as he zips it up at the back. He trails his hand across my stomach and then wraps his arms around me.

“
You look stunning. Now all we need to do is get to work on your hair and make-up.”

“
You know Viv, most men try to get their girlfriends
out
of their clothes, not
into
them,” I remark cheekily and he pats me on the behind.

“
I think we both know that I've never been most men,” he answers, running his fingers through my hair and tilting his head to the side as though trying to figure out what to do with it.

I turn around and kiss the side of his jaw. “No you're not, you're better,” I say, rubbing up against him.

He groans and mutters, “If you don't stop doing that I'm going to become most men and tear this dress off you. Then we'll miss the party and Phil will pull a strop the next time we see him.”

“
Fine,” I mutter, nipping at his bottom lip and turning back around.

By the time he's finished with me my hair is clipped up in a twist, with pieces falling down around my neck. Nicholas paints some gloss onto my lips and dabs dark eye shadow onto my eyelids. He then sits me down on the bed and pulls out the
pi
è
ce de r
é
sistance
, which is a black shoe box containing a pair of silver high heels. He has a grin on his face, indicating he finds this positively hilarious.