Educating Laura Ch. 02

Now, I could tell that was Richie's terrible idea of a joke.

"Fuck off," I told him. "What's Coventry like, anyway?"

"Boring. Has a stupid ring-road round the middle."

"You grew up in a big hoose, too, then?" Andy asked him.

"Mine wasn't big! Just rural!" I complained.

"Bet it was bigger than ours," Richie said. "Classic two bedrooms and a box-room, for the five of us. Does have a garden, maybe twenty foot square? That's how I got into sleeping outside -- the alternative is sharing with my little brother. Caz -- younger sister -- has the small room."

"How old are they?"

"Caz is seventeen. Twenty months younger. Steve's two years younger than her, so fifteen. Caz is OK. Steve's an utter fuckwit."

"You lived with your sister a bit, you said?" Andy seemed to recall everything I'd ever told him.

"Yeah," I replied. "Before college. Most of the time, from fifth year onwards. Like, fifteen. Dad's off abroad all the time, Mum's just off her tits." In truth, I only stayed with my much-older half-sister for Christmas, or in desperation, us having nothing in common beyond our dad's sperm. Her family didn't have the space nor want me there, but these guys didn't need to know that.

"Drunk?"

"Oh no, that would be far too pedestrian! Benzos and coke, darling. And anti-depressants. And whatever she's on for the menopause. I got fed up of her making gas leaks when she and her friends decide to do DIY at 2am, or her screaming at me for being Satan, or whatever. So I stayed at my boarding school as much as possible. Trust me, the place was one giant game of 'Who's got the most bonkers parents?' Mine didn't even register."

"Fuck me. Who won?"

"Oof." It wasn't something I talked about, to outsiders who never saw beyond the privilege in our school. I didn't want to relate stories of sexual abuse over lunch.

"Possibly the one whose dad was a billionaire from a West African country, thanks to oil and corruption? Who arranged to have another girl's dad murdered -- he was a journalist. It wasn't her fault, but you can imagine the tension at school! Then he divorced her mum. Citing, among other things, that she didn't breast-feed her children for long enough. She counter-claimed that some of the millions of diamonds he'd given her were fake. The case went on for years -- let's just say they aren't billionaires any more."

"Bet the lawyers are," Richie murmured.

"Exactly. My parents were just boring and middle-class, really."

"Strewth. Never been so glad to grow up on a scheme!"

Richie blinked. "Council estate," I told him. "Housing project."

"Ah. Nice one, or shit one?"

Andy laughed, unoffended. "Definitely a pile o' shite! The sort of place the newspapers love, you know, burnt-out cars, druggies... Like a boring version of Trainspotting. Mostly jus' drinking Buckfast an' beers. Nae jobs, nae point in school."

"And then you came down south?"

Andy took another slurp of his pint. "Could say that, aye. Been in London nearly two years now, working for Pete and Jude."

Andy rubbed the backs of his fingers with the other hand, over some bad tattoos, near-hidden under hairiness.

"Cool," Richie said. "Thanks for welcoming me down here. It's been a really good weekend."

I'd never have dreamt Richie could demonstrate such manners.

"Good. Thanks for cheering our Laura up. I reckon she's really appreciated the company."

Did Andy mean that as a double entendre? Richie quirked the corner of his mouth, taking it as one.

"Any time," Richie agreed.

"Fortnight's time, maybe you could visit her again? It's my weekend off."

"Maybe I could. We'd best get back, for my train."

We arrived at the bus station. "Thanks for the lift, Andy."

"Any time, pal. Nice to see Laura lookin' happier. Must be the clean hair!"

I got out of the van to say goodbye to Richie. He heaved out his bag.

"Oh, Laura. I should probably let you know. Andy enjoyed watching you have your wash yesterday."

When I'd been naked in the field.

"You... Did you know that at the time?"

"I didn't know how much he'd enjoy watching, no."

"But you knew he was there, and didn't tell me!"

Richie shrugged. "Seemed a bit pointless once he'd already got an eyeful. He sat down and cleaned the fish while watching you. Told you he was interested. Bye!"

So he'd seen Andy was watching.

"Richie? You're a bastard." No wonder he'd not wanted to strip off himself! Even though he had done it.

"You mean, you don't want to fuck me in a couple weeks?" Another man would have fluttered his eyelashes.

I did. I really did. But it probably wouldn't be bad for his ego to sweat on the subject for a week, first. So all I said was, "Bye."

I couldn't have predicted how soon he'd be back. Nor what would happen when he returned, and how it would influence the rest of my life, much for the better.

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