Growing Pains: Redemption

Rhea glared at Simon who barely noticed with his glazed eyes, the alcohol was having a powerful effect on him.

"Whoa!" Zoe shouted and looked at both of her brothers. "I haven't got you here so you can have a fight."

"Well tell that fucking cunt to shut his mouth," John spat angrily and Simon curled his fingers into a fist.

"Why don't you try and shut it for me?" Simon replied. "Just cause I have done something with me life."

"Oh yeah. I heard you lost that house of yours and had to beg to live with Andy. You have a child, so do I. I have three. You don't own a home. Neither do I. You don't have a job. Neither do I. You ain't got nothing that I ain't got. Apart from a knocked up bitch."

Rhea's eyes fizzed and she went to get up but Andy and Ezra both put hands on her shoulder. Simon did leap up and swung for his brother who pulled back and launched a punch of his own.

"No!" Zoe and Rhea screamed in unison and pushing Rhea into the chair, both Andy and Ezra got up. Ezra pulled John back, but the host was quicker than Andy and Simon had a second with John being restrained and Andy nowhere near him to launch a free punch.

His fist connected with John's cheek and he let out a violent yell, falling to the ground. Andy bundled Simon towards his chair, his own nose bleeding and Rhea was dragging him out of the room before either of them could touch each other again.

Rhea was furious and Simon was about to have to plead for Rhea to permit him to stay in the shed.

* * * * *

"You have got to be joking," Andy shouted across the table at his sister. She was shocked for a moment and then shook her head.

"It's my body I can do what I want with it," Rhea replied angrily and waved her outstretched finger at her furious brother. "So will you give me the numbers or not?"

"No," Andy replied aggressively.

"Wrong answer, try again."

"I am not helping you sell your body."

"It's up to me, now give me those fucking numbers."

"I can't. I don't have them."

"What do you mean, you don't have them."

"Well I am hardly known for keeping in contact with my ex-girlfriends am I? And even if I had their numbers, they wouldn't want to speak to me. Both of them won't speak to me any more."

Rhea snorted and looked at Andy, still annoyed with him. "Well maybe if you were less of an arse they might not be ex-es," Rhea told him and Andy shrugged.

"Either way, I can't give you their numbers as they won't talk to me, so I can't help you. So maybe you can drop this stupid, stupid idea."

"No. Other people we know, know them. I will get them. I will speak to Zoe. And Mum. They will have them."

"Not when I tell them what you want them for."

"Fuck off, Andy," Rhea screeched. "Back off. This is between me and Simon."

"And Simon is happy about this?"

Rhea hesitated. "He has no choice."

Andy took a deep breath. "You nearly split up because he had sex with someone else, and you want to make the same mistake," he yelled across the table. "Just think before you fuck things up."

* * * * *

"Simon Matheson, welcome to Fossetts and Sons." Simon surveyed the large food court in the department store ten miles from where he was staying and smiled. It was very conservative; he would never have tolerated such a dour colour scheme at his last place of employment but it seemed to suit the shop.

His manager was a stern middle-aged woman who had interviewed him. She was impressed when he detailed how efficiently he ran the Watford store at his previous employer and this was what clinched it. She was having an affair with the son of the owner, and the more work this new upstart would take on, the better for her. He seemed good enough to be a manager, but nowhere near as experienced enough to be a threat; he was ideal.

In fact, Simon would happily have taken on the entire managerial case load if he was given it. Losing his job made him realise how much he needed well-paid employment and screwing his employees was not the way to build respect.

He was going to be a new man; turn over a new leaf, and even though the cute girl on till three give him a warm, inviting smile, he would not be trying to seduce her. He had Rhea back and he intended to keep her.

* * * * *

Rhea was furious with her partner for his behaviour at Zoe's when John was released and had threatened to kick him out of the shed and back into the tent. He avoided this by suggesting that they invite John over for a barbecue at the weekend to apologise and make amends.

John arrived with Zoe and Ezra at Andy's house at midday and Simon had lit the massive barbecue and had cooked an array of processed meat that had been devoured by all those present in no time at all.

They chatted amicably in the garden and the harshness from John wasn't present. He apologised to Rhea for the comments he had made about her, and she took it in good grace.

"I heard what my brother was doing," John said to Rhea while Simon was putting Izzy in bed. They had stayed past teatime and had a few drinks in the garden while he heard what had happened in everyone's life while he had been away. He was particularly interested in Andy's money-making over the previous few years and was rather taken by his success - the house, the car and the clothes - that he had. Andy felt a little bit uncomfortable talking about his money and Zoe smiled at his obvious discomfort; she was unhappy about him constantly flaunting his wealth at her and trying to fix her problems that she liked him being not at ease when his money was being discussed. It was petty she knew, but she took enjoyment out of it nonetheless. Zoe and Ezra were squabbling in the kitchen so John took advantage of the momentary peace to talk to the pregnant girl. "And yo forgiven him as well."

Rhea snorted. "There is a long way to go before he can say he has been forgiven."

"I betchya you've stop shagging him?" John asked and Rhea nodded tersely.

"I don't think that is any of your business though."

John grinned. "It's the first thing chicks do whenever they get pissed, which is fucking stupid as they get fuck all as well and get effin' 'orny. How long's it been Rhea?"

Rhea snarled at her partners leering brother. "I told you. It's none of your business. Now Zoe asked me to be tolerant but if you don't shut the fuck up I will shut it up for you."

"Yo. Chill sister. Just sayin' that I ain't had much lately either and if you're feeling a bit 'orny, I can help."

Rhea's fists tensed. "I don't think so, John. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get away from you before I rip your throat out." Rhea got up and went to leave the room but John grabbed hold of her wrist.

"Oh don't play the little angel with me love. There are two types of bird, those that cheat and those that want to," John replied nastily and Rhea shook her fist out of his hand. She wanted to strike it, to break nose on his sneering face.

She didn't get chance to, as Simon burst into the room and stared straight at his brother. "You trying to hit on Rhea?"

Rhea stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder, telling him that she was fine, but her partner stared at the man in front of him and gently shook his head.

"Go on Si. Do as the little lady says. Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

Simon took a step towards him but Rhea pushed his shoulder back. "No," she barked and Simon withered in her gaze. Without warning, she swung 'round and with as much force as she could muster, she smashed her right fist into his jaw and smiled.

"Get out of our house, you disgusting lowlife. To think I, pregnant with your niece or nephew, would even think of sleeping with you, it's nasty. You are repugnant," she shouted. "And Simon, move your things to the spare bedroom. For tonight."

Zoe, Ezra and Andy rushed in to see blood pouring out of John's face and Rhea angrily shouting at him. It did not take Sherlock Holmes to work out what had happened and Zoe rushed to Rhea.

"What's going on?" Zoe asked and John pointed at Rhea. "She hit me, he mumbled through his hands."

Rhea's fists clenched. "He was trying to get me to sleep with him. Not the first time he has tried but just as pointless now as then." Zoe stared at Rhea and grabbed hold of his arm. "Now I told you to fuck off out of here."

"But where am I going to go?" He asked and Rhea smirked.

"Home. It's eight miles in that direction. Hurry up and you might just make it before it gets dark."

Zoe stared at her younger brother with the ruptured nose and sighed. "I suppose we better take you to A&E," she begrudgingly told him. "Stupid, stupid twat."

* * * * *

Simon took a deep breath and disrobed. He was not unfit, but he did not have the muscles in prominent places to be truly comfortable with his body. He arched his back and looked out at the assembled throng of clothed artists, assembling their easels and sitting down. He had done this years ago while at University but was still nervous.

The butterflies in his stomach were still there when the female art teacher called him over. She had reminded him of Rhea in so many ways, she was a similar height and build to his partner and she spoke with the same conviction.

She told him to put his shoulder up against a wooden board and extend his leg out, like he was pushing something immovably heavy. His cock was on the "class-side" of the position, the teacher had selected this pose, and her hands darted over his body as she adjusted his posture.

She brushed up against his cock, as she brought his thigh back slightly and Simon instinctively tightened his buttocks.

She chuckled at him and jumped down from the stage. "OK, hold that position, and off we go."

Simon closed his eyes. It was boring, it always was, and he let his mind wander. He day dreamt of Rhea and of his cock being gently brushed. He day dreamt of the position he found himself in, being naked to earn a few pounds to help pay off a large debt. He day dreamt of Rhea controlling his life. He day dreamt he was getting an erection.

There were a few sniggers around the room and he glanced down. He was rock hard, his cock constituting an additional appendage, at a forty-five degree angle and prominent against the white background. He instantly thought of his situation and how humiliating it was.

This only served to make him more aroused. He frantically thought of anything to try and make him less aroused, but couldn't do it. The fact that he was naked in a room of clothed women with an erection he shouldn't have was a total humiliation he craved. He felt a disgrace.

Simon kept his eyes closed; if he opened them and watched the students staring at him, he would be more embarrassed. He opened them occasionally to see the girl on the end staring at his crotch and he made eye contact with her briefly glancing away.

His frantic erotic thoughts were silenced somewhat after fifteen minutes when his calf started to hurt, and after 45 minutes it was sheer agony. The pose he had to adopt was far from comfortable and after thirty minutes even his sordid mind could not find the muscular pain arousing, much to his relief.

The teacher helped Simon down from the stage, his muscles had locked up and he took the liberty of looking at the drawings of him. A girl in the corner had drawn his erect penis, making it twice as big as it was and he blushed. She grinned at him and he moved onto the next student; he mustn't even flirt.

The teacher passed him an envelope as he got dressed again. The students had left the classroom and she as tidying up.

"You did well. It's a hard pose to keep for a long period of time," she told him as he pulled his rugby shirt over his head.

"It was a bit painful," he muttered and straightened out his leg. "But OK."

"Is it OK if I keep your details on file? This is the last life drawing class for this term, but next term we have some more," she asked and Simon readily agreed. He might have only made twenty-five pounds, but twenty-five pounds for standing around and doing nothing was good money indeed.

Chapter V

Andy had dropped off a small tray of chocolates at the florists with his phone number on and had received a call twenty minutes later as we was walking back to his car. He had seen the girl working in the shop and had discreetly slipped the present through the ground-level letterbox in the door without being seen.

"Who is this?" the caller asked and Andy chuckled, he recognised the voice immediately.

"Andy," he replied evasively.

"Who? Have you left some chocolates at the florists in Market Street?"

"Yes. They are for a beautiful girl working there a couple of days ago. She had shimmering hair, a wonderful smile, a captivating body and a quite exquisite necklace."

There was silence for a moment. "So, how can we help?"

"Well I was sort of hoping to take that young lady for a meal tomorrow evening, if she was prepared to come," Andy said and there was a further silence and a titter.

"Yeah, that girl would love to come. What time?"

"Six outside the shop?" Andy asked and the girl agreed.

For the first time in months, Andy had a date.

* * * * *

"So what do you want, again?" Mr Grimes, the manager of the small shopping pavilion asked. Twelve shops lined Hilltop Walk, that connected the main shopping centre with the main multi-storey car park and bus terminal. "Your solicitor, well our solicitor outlined it, but I am a bit perplexed to be honest."

"A fake promotion. I need a guy, who I will provide, to take her details when I am with her, and then I need to have a letter written four weeks later, say, that just says to that the person had won an amount of money, here is the cheque and enjoy it."

"What's in it for me?"

Andy smiled. "I need twenty-five grand to go out. I will put twenty-six in your account."

"Twenty-seven."

"Twenty-six plus a monkey as a bonus when they go for it."

The man sniffed. "I think twenty-seven is more appropriate."

Andy puffed out his chest. "OK, Twenty-seven. But through Jenny." He looked at the man's expression and shrugged. "Mrs Murray."

"Right," he muttered and held out his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."

* * * * *

"Nice shot. How's John?" Andy asked and Ezra smirked.

"Oh he's OK. He has got a flat now so he has moved. Quite a way away, over Bletchley way. Zoe came home and found him screwing the girl from across the road, you know the one with big titties that you asked out."

"I did not ask her out," Andy replied indignantly. "But yeah, I know who you mean."

"Well Zoe was furious with him and he moved out to his flat a few hours later."

"And you'll be seeing him when?"

"Oh I don't know. He is the black sheep of the family and no-one really wants to talk to him. I, sort of, feel a bit sorry for him. I mean, he saw Rhea the other day and apologised to her, but he just doesn't get what being outside those walls means. He is used to prison life."

Andy laughed and Ezra passed the sole pool cue they were playing with.

"Not the only black sheep 'round here though, is he?"

Ezra grinned as Andy did the perfect shot and slid his red ball into the corner pocket. "You seem to be a bit of an outcast yourself," Ezra replied and Andy ignored him to sink his final ball.

"You were as well as I remember. Running off to Bolton after causing how much damage?" Ezra winced. "So how much was it again?" Andy enquired as he lined up the black, number eight, ball.

Ezra squirmed and downed the last of his pint. If Zoe had seen him he would be in trouble but his wife worked in an another part of the town and never came to this pub so he was probably safe. Until he got home and she demanded an explanation as to why he didn't answer his phone earlier in the day when she tried to arrange a lunchtime rendezvous for them.

* * * * *

"And your name is?"

Simon, dressed in a smart shirt and chinos gave a nervous smile, his face was bright red, partly due to the heat of the studio lights, and partly due to fear. There was a feint smell of paint in the room, probably caused by the rapid redecoration the "studio" had undergone to be ready for the television talent show auditions.

"Simon."

"And you're from?" asked a middle-aged gentleman with impeccable hair and flawless white false teeth.

"Aylesbury."

A washed-out pop star cackled at the end of the table. "I sold out a gig there once," she said, clearly hoping that they might include it in the cut to show how widely listened to she once was. Simon didn't know what to say and just grinned at the woman.

"And you are going to sing for us?"

"Nothing compares to you, by Sinead O'Connor."

The third member of the panel, a record producer, chortled. "Normally sung by our female contestants," he sniped.

"Well it was originally released by Prince under The Family," Simon responded instantly without thinking and the man snarled. Simon, might not be able to sing, but he knew a lot about music; it was his passion.

"Yes, I know that," the producer snapped back. "Sing."

Simon took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He didn't know why, but it seemed as though he should. He listened to the introduction in his head and then prepared himself to sing.

"It's been seven hours and fifteen days," Simon belted out as, tunelessly amending his pitch to compensate for his lack of singing ability. "Since you took your love away."

Simon waved his hands around theatrically and extending them forward to gesture to the unseen and imaginatively present crowd in front of him.

The panel sniggered but Simon was so absorbed in his own performance he didn't see and it was at the end of the massacred chorus when he was stopped.

"So why are you here?" The producer asked, still not having forgiven Simon for correcting him earlier.

"I want a better life for my family," Simon instinctively replied and he grinned.

"Well I want a better life for my eardrums so you definitely ain't going through."

"It's a no from me, too. If you are the standard of music ability here today then we might as well go home now," he was told and after a moment of faux niceness from the washed out popstar left Simon utterly dejected.

He might not have expected to win, but he hoped he might get through. He arrived and had to audition in front of a researcher, and then again in front of a senior researcher. He was told he was ideal and would be in front of three "faces" of the show and should really go for it, and he did, dreaming of a new start for Rhea and Izzy.

Rhea tried to be sympathetic but shook her head, grinning. "Well what did you expect, love? You cannot sing and more than I can knit."

"Yeah, but it's a one million pound contract. It would make everything better."

Rhea stared across the table at him and bit her lip. She spoke in a low, forlorn voice. "No Simon. The money won't make everything better. The money is just a small part of it. It's the breaking of my trust that's the problem."

Simon looked at his dinner and got up. "I'm trying Rhea, I'm really trying," he shouted at her and left the room forcefully.

"Yes you are, aren't you," Rhea murmured to an empty room.

* * * * *

"Flowers, what a surprise," the girl told Andy as he came up to her a two minutes to six.

"Ah, yes, OK. Not good, right?"

"They are lovely. Just not from me."

"No. Well I could hardly buy them for you from you, could I?"

She laughed and put them inside the shop in a vase of water. "I can take them home tomorrow. Where are we going?"

Andy looked at the girl again. She was a lot shorter that him, quite a bit in fact, but she had a teasing, expectant grin on her face and he smiled in return. "What food do you like?"

She smiled. "English?"

"Well I was hoping not to go to a pub, but there is a good pub out my way," Andy told her and she laughed.