Playing My Love (12 page)

  "I think you should talk to her again."

  I turned the stereo on and ignored him.  For the rest of the journey home.

  I sought refuge in my workshop as soon as we arrived back, tinkering on my guitar
after I'd angrily popped the blisters to let the fluid out.  How
dare
he try to make those sort of decisions for me?  Didn't he understand?  I wouldn't have a life when he was gone, and nothing he said, did or tried to plan was going to change that.  I was going to be empty and alone.  I was furious with him, and although I sort of realised how irrational this was, I couldn't seem to help myself.

  After a few hours, there was a gentle knock.

  "What?"  I growled, not turning around.  I heard the door open and shut.

  "Hi."

  I spun around in surprise.  It was Darcy, dressed in a large knitted red jumper and dark blue jeans. Her eyes looked tired, which I assumed was probably because of partying all weekend long.  She looked very uncomfortable.

  "Oh.  Hi." 

  "Gray told me to come down and see you.  He said you wanted to talk to me?"

  "Did he really?"  I glared up at the house through the shed window, hoping my stony gaze would chill him where he stood.

  "I guess he was lying"  she muttered, pulling the sleeves of her jumper down over her hands nervously.  I took a deep breath, deciding to do this in the same way you'd rip a plaster from a wound.

  "Look, Darcy, I do genuinely like you, but I'm afraid I don't agree with your lifestyle choices.  I'm sure you can understand why?"  I said, my tone clipped and cold.  "I don't think it would be appropriate for us to remain friends."

  Her eyes opened wide in astonishment and she exhaled a long shaky breath.

  "Wow.  I mean…talk about brutal."  She sat down on a large box and put her face in her hands.  I watched her from a distance, not really knowing what else to say or do, but I wasn't at all
prepared for the tears in her eyes when she looked back up at me.

  Her serotonin levels are low from the drugs.  She's probably
experiencing a come down.

  "Do you know what?  I had you pegged completely wrong.  If I'd known you were such a narrow minded bigot, I would have stayed well clear of you."  She stood up, more
angry than upset now.

  "Narrow minded…?  Oh, I suppose it's the 'in thing' to be liberal and broad minded when it comes to drugs these days?"  I spluttered, smarting from her insult.  "Well, you can call me old fashioned, but I stand by my views.  I think you should leave now."

  "What?  What the hell are you talking about?  What have drugs got to do with anything?"

  "Oh drop the act
, Darcy!  I heard you buying them at the party."

  She shook her head in disbelief.

  "Alison, I don't know what you
think
you heard, but I've never taken drugs in my life, I have no intention of ever taking drugs, and I've certainly never bought any!"  Her face suddenly dropped as something dawned on her.  "Wait a second, what exactly
did
you hear?"

  "I heard you give
someone named Baz fifty pounds for something 'illegal.' "

  "
Oh Alison, that wasn't for drugs!"  she said dejectedly.

  "Well
, what then?"  I asked, running out of steam.  Her reaction was not one of denial, as I'd expected, but of shock and confusion.  I started to wonder if perhaps I'd got the wrong end of the stick?  She looked anguished as I waited for an answer.

  "I...I paid him to steal something for me."

  "Oh."  I wasn't expecting that.  I tried to work out if that was worse than buying drugs, but my emotions were all over the place.  Judging from the expression on her face, it looked like she had a very good explanation ready for me and I realised I should maybe start preparing my apology.  "Hold on, what were
you
talking about?  Why did you call me a narrow minded bigot?"

  She sighed, then returned back to the box she'd been sat on.

  "I think we've got seriously crossed wires.  I'll explain…from the beginning if that's okay?"

  "Okay."  I sat down next to her, curious.

  "I've only ever been in two relationships.  Like, ever.  My first was when I was fourteen, and it was with a really cute guy at school.  I thought I was in love with him, like you do when you're that young.  I told him I didn't want to have sex until I was sixteen and he was really cool with that and never once pressured me or anything.  But then when I turned sixteen, I suddenly realised I didn't want to have sex with him.  Because I was gay."

  And there it was.  Confirmation of what we'd both been dancing around for the last few weeks, now out on the table.  She watched me carefully for my reaction.

  "I think I worked that out a while ago"  I said softly, and she exhaled in relief.

  "
That was what I thought you were talking about when I first came in.  I thought someone might have told you at the party, and that
maybe
you hadn't realised.  So anyway, once I knew I was into women, I went to a few gay pubs and clubs in the surrounding areas.  I wasn't looking for sex though, like all the girls who tried to chat me up.  I was looking for someone special, you know?  But because I wouldn't ever go any further than kissing with any of them, I sort of got a reputation for being frigid, and they all started to avoid me. 

  When I finished my exams, I decided to take a year out and go travelling.  It was during my third month in the States that I met Sam
.  She was sat in a park reading a book, and I swear, she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.  I mean, stunningly beautiful.  Before I even knew what I was going to say, I found myself walking over and asking if she minded if I joined her.  When she looked up, we just stared at each other for what felt like hours."  Darcy closed her eyes, remembering.  "It was like a poem or something.  Time stopped, everything faded, it was just us that existed."  She gave a small laugh and looked at me, shyly.  "It was totally cheesy!  But I'd never been so captivated by anyone before.  She had long black hair, and these intense blue eyes that almost hypnotised me when I looked into them.  When we finally got our mouths working again, we started talking.  We talked all day, then arranged to meet the next day, and the day after that.  It was so romantic, really.  We were both aware of this incredible attraction we felt toward each other, but we were both too shy to actually say anything about it!  Instead we became really close friends that hung out all day every day.  It was five weeks before we got the courage up to admit we liked each other as more than friends, another week after that before we actually kissed."

  As
Darcy spoke I could hear the raw emotion in her voice, and I felt myself drawn into her story.

  "What was it like?"
  I found myself asking.

  "It was…oh wow, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before!  Physically it was soft, sensual, perfect. 
Emotionally?  Beautiful, breath-taking, incredible!  It felt like love!"  Darcy shrugged.  "Because her family, well, more specifically her dad, were really homophobic, we decided to go travelling together.  We spent the next seven months touring the states, but it was more a chance to explore our feelings for each other.  I mean, I couldn't tell you much about the places we visited to be honest.  I just cared that we were together and happy.

  However, I had to retu
rn back to Britain, and Sam decided to come back with me because neither of us could bear to be apart.  Plus, we'd been sleeping together for a couple of months by then, so we were deeply connected on a spiritual, emotional
and
physical level.  She stayed with me here for six months until her visa ran out, then I just flew straight back over there with her.  That was when the problems began."  Darcy started fidgeting with her hands and I felt a strong urge to hold them in my own.  She was obviously still very affected by what had happened.  "Sam's mother's family were Indians.  Not as in from India, but American Indian.  Her dad, however, was a good old fashioned, pure bred cowboy from the south, and although her mum would have been fine with us, he had very traditional beliefs.  I mean, he thought homosexuality was the work of satan himself!  So we kept our relationship to ourselves and as far as they all knew, we were just really good friends.

  But then Sam went all weird.
  Whenever we were with her parents, she'd start talking about this amazing fiancée I had back here in the UK.  She told her dad that I was engaged to this guy who was in the army, and was away for long periods of time in service.  I had to play along with it, but I was devastated."

  I reached
out and took her hand, sensing she needed comfort, and she squeezed it gratefully.

  "I know this sounds like my life story, but it's important that you know why I did what I did."

  "It's fine.  It's an interesting story.  Please continue."

  She chewed her lip as she recalled the events.

  "The next time I came back to Britain, I came back alone because she didn't want her dad to get suspicious of the amount of time we were spending together.  Even though we talked to each other on Skype all the time, it was heart wrenching not being with her.  When she finally managed to get over to see me, it was only because she told her dad that I was getting married and she was my maid of honour, and needed to help plan the wedding and hen night and stuff."  She gave a dry laugh.  "They sent me a fucking wedding present.  I did my best to not let it bother me, because at the end of the day we were together, and that was all that mattered, right?

  This carried on for four years, both of us to and fro-ing between here and the states.  I started my course, which made things a bit tricky, but we managed and tried to work around my lessons.  I never was much of a drinker
so I didn't spend money going out like everyone else, and I had a job at a care home as a sleep in carer, so I saved enough money from my job and my student loan to get by and to go see her as well.  I was happy enough, and I sort of assumed Sam was too.  I was due to go over and stay with her last summer and I'd been saving for ages to buy her this antique ring.  It cost one and a half thousand pounds, and I was going to propose to her on her birthday.  But about a week before I was due to fly out, she cancelled on me."  Darcy exhaled heavily and when she spoke next, her voice was shaky.  "She told me I couldn't go out there because her dad had found her a man to marry and it had all been arranged.  All arranged!  She was already engaged, Alison!  As if I'd never even happened!"  She looked at me incredulously, the pain as raw now as it had been then by the looks of it.  "So I flew out anyway.  I had to see it with my own eyes because I thought that maybe, just maybe, it was her dad forcing her into it.  I begged her.  I mean literally, I threw all my dignity and pride out of the window and physically begged her.  I sobbed, I got down on my knees, I clung to her, promised her everything and anything, but in the end, she still walked out and left me in a crumpled broken heap on the floor.  She destroyed me.  I came back to Britain empty and dead inside."

  I felt a lump form in my throat.  Was this what I had coming?  Would losing Gray destroy me in the same way?  I found my grip on Darcy's hand tightening, as if I were holding on to her to stop me dissolving right then and there. 
Although she'd totally drawn me in with her story, I couldn't let my focus slip to my own situation.  This was about Darcy and her first love, and after the way I'd recently behaved toward her, she deserved my full attention followed by a heart-felt apology.  I took a deep breath to steady myself.

  "Which brings me to the story surrounding the ring.  When I got back, Nicki decided to take me out to get completely trashed, and we ended up at a gay club a couple of towns away.  I woke up the next morning
with some strange girl in my bed.  I had no memory of who she was, or how we'd got there, so I just sort of kicked her out without giving her an explanation.  A few days later I realised the ring was missing.  It wasn't until I started tearing the flat upside down looking for it that Nicki told me there was a small possibility I'd given it to the girl I'd brought back in some bizarre way to 'free' myself from Sam.  I think I actually came close to passing out.  Luckily Nic remembered that this girl had told her she worked in a bakery and that her name was Chloe, so we phoned up every single bakery in the surrounding area until we tracked her down and I drove out to see her the next day.  It was embarrassing for the both of us when I walked on in.  For me, because I'd thrown her out, and for her because she couldn't remember my name either!  Apparently she'd just been dumped too, which was why we'd hooked up in the club.  We'd got trashed together and she'd come back to mine for, as she described it, some of the worst drunk sex she'd ever had!  I think that was even being polite!  Anyway, she confirmed that I'd given her the ring, but had assumed she wouldn't ever see me again, so she'd pawned it…for two hundred pounds!"

  "What
!"

  "Yeah, they totally saw her coming, right?  She gave me the address of the pawn shop, and even offered to pay me back the two hundred.  I didn't have the heart to tell her what it was really worth, but accepted one hundred that she drew out
of the cashpoint because it was all she could afford.  Then I went straight to the pawn-brokers to buy it back, but he was really fucking clever.  He had it up for sale for one thousand six hundred pounds!  I tried to reason with him to give it back to me, but I didn't have a leg to stand on.  And because it hadn't been stolen, I had no legal rights whatsoever over it.  I couldn't afford to buy it back, so I had to leave empty handed.  But I couldn't afford to lose it either.