Skinny Jeans Have No Place On These Thighs
Mr Birch
Marcus is suddenly kissing my neck and working his way up to my face, his hands caressing my face, in a tight but gentle way. And then he's kissing me passionately, urgently. Short, tough meetings of our mouths. His hands wander down, on my bottom, pulling me into him that sends a thrill up my spine. But it's wrong, I know it's wrong, he's using me and I shouldn't let him!
"Ella, what is it?" asks Marcus as I gently remove my lips from his.
Luckily, just at that moment I hear keys in the door. "That's my mother!" We both jump up from the bed then. Marcus is taking his cue from me. Obviously he doesn't know my mother is a deeply strict and unfair human who would NEVER in a months of Sundays let me have a boy in my room. Especially not one that she didn't know!
There are footsteps on the stairs which rules out Marcus sneaking down them and out of the house.
"Get under the bed!" I hiss.
"Are you mental? I'm not going under there! I'll mess up my jacket."
"She'll kill me!" I tell him desperately. "Please!"
I push him down and he reluctantly, but quickly, scrambled under the bed just in time. There was a knock at the bed room door.
"Yes Mum?" I call out innocently but quite loudly for some reason.
"Ella, can I come in?" says a man's voice. I don't reply and the door opens and standing there is William Birch, my Mum's 'friend'.
"How did you get in?" I ask in surprise even though I already heard the key in the door. A better question would have been, 'Why do you have a key?' but it's too late to say that now. I wonder if I'd asked that instead if things would be different in the future. You know, sliding doors, and all that time slip stuff. It's very interesting.
"Your Mum lent me a key, she asked me to nip back and get something from the bedroom," replies William Birch. I can't help noticing he says 'the' bedroom rather than 'her' bedroom. Does he have to rub it in my face that he's been in there?
"You know, maybe now would be a good time for us to have a little chat," says William Birch.
I marvel at the irony. Yeah sure, I've only got a junkie sex God hiding under the bed, this is a brilliant time Mr Birch. Pull up a chair and let's talk about how you enjoy putting your tongue in my Mum's - '.
"It must be a weird for you, eh?" says Mr Birch, sitting on down on the bed. "New people and all. Especially with the difficult situation your Mum's in."
That annoys me too because the way he says it makes it sound like it's only difficult for her. What about me? What about my Dad?! If he knew there was a fully grown man sitting on the bed telling me how hard it was for my Mum to see other people, he would have gone absolutely stark raving mental!
Of course, my Dad might not have been too happy about Marcus underneath the bed either but you understand the point I'm making.
"I know things might look like they've changed quite quickly," goes on Mr Birch. The voice he's using is irritating - he clearly thinks he's being 'wise' or 'down with the teenagers'. It's pathetic. "But your Mum is really happy and you want her to be happy don't you?"
There was not a single thing in those two sentences that didn't make me want to boil over in rage. Obviously I didn't because I would never be rude to him as my Mum would kill me. But what a load! What the hell did he know about what it was like for me? Funnily enough, things 'look like they've changed quickly' because they have! My Dad's only been gone for six months. My Mum couldn't even wait a year, she lasted six months. Only now I think about it, she didn't. She must have known Mr Birch for a while otherwise he wouldn't be having this conversation with me.
How long had she waited before jumping into bed with somebody else? How long before she decided she couldn't wait for my Dad any more? Three months? Six weeks? Or did she already know Mr Birch way before Dad left? How can I ever be sure?
"Well?" asks Mr Birch again. "You do want your Mum to be happy, don't you?"
The way he says it isn't right though. It's not a question. Mr Birch is TELLING me that I'm happy for her. For them, rather. It's so humiliating being spoken to like this in front of Marcus. Obviously Mr Birch has no idea he's there but still!
"Yes, Mr Birch."
"Oh Ella, you're funny," laughs Mr Birch suddenly. "You don't have to call me Mr Birch. Will is fine." He smiles at me and force a natural smile back at him. "So what do you say?" He asks again, in a deeply patronising way that he clearly thinks is hilarious.
"Yes, Will."
"That's better." I swear Mr Birch is going to ruffle my hair for a moment but he doesn't. "So are we friends?"
What sort of question is that?! I don't make friends with forty year old men. And he's my Mum's boyfriend, he's not my friend. I know some people really love their parents new partners and girlfriends and husbands or whatever but I know it will never happen to me. It would be like pretending my Dad wasn't real, or accepting that he just wasn't coming back. If my Mum wanted to do that there was little I could do about it but I wasn't going to lie down and accept it.
Mr Birch doesn't wait for a response though. "Good. Now let's kiss on it."
And to my horror he leans down and kisses me on the side of the mouth, really, like, assertively. All at once, a rush of mixed up emotions run through me like a horrible rainbow of sick and blood and vinegar. I don't want him to kiss me like that and I don't want Marcus to hear it because he'll think less of me. Or he'll think that I let old men kiss me. Or that I can't control who I kiss, which isn't an attractive quality in a person. I'm a young woman, and I'm meant to have spent the last fifteen years preparing myself to deal with situations like this. But I can't think of anything I can do other than just stand there in surprise.
Mr Birch gives me a little wink then and says, "I'll see you later at supper. Your Mum and I are cooking fisherman's pie," and then he's gone. I hear him pulling the drawers open in my Mum's room, heading down the stairs and then the swing of the front door closing behind him.
As Mr Birch was on the stairs, Marcus had already begun to clamber out from under the bed and now he gives me the strangest look.
"What the hell was that about?" asks Marcus, looking out onto the landing as though Mr Birch is still there. "That kissing thing, that was really bizarre."
I shrug, still feeling all of the different mixes of stuff whirling around my stomach, like one of those machines where you put a penny in it and watch as it tumbles down the sides going really fast. Only I've got about ten pennies in my stomach and they're all bumping into one another and pressing down too hard.
"Does he always do that?" Marcus wants to know. I shake my head and say that it hasn't happened before and Marcus pulls a face and says, "You might want to watch out for that."
And then it's like someone's put in another ten pennies because he's saying like it's not a big deal or like he doesn't know me very well. I don't think that Mr Birch is a pedophile or anything, he's just a bit strange, but Marcus doesn't know that. For all he knows it might have happened a lot and I might not have wanted to talk about it because I couldn't tell anyone. Why isn't he asking me about it?
Another penny. It's because he doesn't really care what happens to me.
"Ella, what is it?" asks Marcus as I gently remove my lips from his.
Luckily, just at that moment I hear keys in the door. "That's my mother!" We both jump up from the bed then. Marcus is taking his cue from me. Obviously he doesn't know my mother is a deeply strict and unfair human who would NEVER in a months of Sundays let me have a boy in my room. Especially not one that she didn't know!
There are footsteps on the stairs which rules out Marcus sneaking down them and out of the house.
"Get under the bed!" I hiss.
"Are you mental? I'm not going under there! I'll mess up my jacket."
"She'll kill me!" I tell him desperately. "Please!"
I push him down and he reluctantly, but quickly, scrambled under the bed just in time. There was a knock at the bed room door.
"Yes Mum?" I call out innocently but quite loudly for some reason.
"Ella, can I come in?" says a man's voice. I don't reply and the door opens and standing there is William Birch, my Mum's 'friend'.
"How did you get in?" I ask in surprise even though I already heard the key in the door. A better question would have been, 'Why do you have a key?' but it's too late to say that now. I wonder if I'd asked that instead if things would be different in the future. You know, sliding doors, and all that time slip stuff. It's very interesting.
"Your Mum lent me a key, she asked me to nip back and get something from the bedroom," replies William Birch. I can't help noticing he says 'the' bedroom rather than 'her' bedroom. Does he have to rub it in my face that he's been in there?
"You know, maybe now would be a good time for us to have a little chat," says William Birch.
I marvel at the irony. Yeah sure, I've only got a junkie sex God hiding under the bed, this is a brilliant time Mr Birch. Pull up a chair and let's talk about how you enjoy putting your tongue in my Mum's - '.
"It must be a weird for you, eh?" says Mr Birch, sitting on down on the bed. "New people and all. Especially with the difficult situation your Mum's in."
That annoys me too because the way he says it makes it sound like it's only difficult for her. What about me? What about my Dad?! If he knew there was a fully grown man sitting on the bed telling me how hard it was for my Mum to see other people, he would have gone absolutely stark raving mental!
Of course, my Dad might not have been too happy about Marcus underneath the bed either but you understand the point I'm making.
"I know things might look like they've changed quite quickly," goes on Mr Birch. The voice he's using is irritating - he clearly thinks he's being 'wise' or 'down with the teenagers'. It's pathetic. "But your Mum is really happy and you want her to be happy don't you?"
There was not a single thing in those two sentences that didn't make me want to boil over in rage. Obviously I didn't because I would never be rude to him as my Mum would kill me. But what a load! What the hell did he know about what it was like for me? Funnily enough, things 'look like they've changed quickly' because they have! My Dad's only been gone for six months. My Mum couldn't even wait a year, she lasted six months. Only now I think about it, she didn't. She must have known Mr Birch for a while otherwise he wouldn't be having this conversation with me.
How long had she waited before jumping into bed with somebody else? How long before she decided she couldn't wait for my Dad any more? Three months? Six weeks? Or did she already know Mr Birch way before Dad left? How can I ever be sure?
"Well?" asks Mr Birch again. "You do want your Mum to be happy, don't you?"
The way he says it isn't right though. It's not a question. Mr Birch is TELLING me that I'm happy for her. For them, rather. It's so humiliating being spoken to like this in front of Marcus. Obviously Mr Birch has no idea he's there but still!
"Yes, Mr Birch."
"Oh Ella, you're funny," laughs Mr Birch suddenly. "You don't have to call me Mr Birch. Will is fine." He smiles at me and force a natural smile back at him. "So what do you say?" He asks again, in a deeply patronising way that he clearly thinks is hilarious.
"Yes, Will."
"That's better." I swear Mr Birch is going to ruffle my hair for a moment but he doesn't. "So are we friends?"
What sort of question is that?! I don't make friends with forty year old men. And he's my Mum's boyfriend, he's not my friend. I know some people really love their parents new partners and girlfriends and husbands or whatever but I know it will never happen to me. It would be like pretending my Dad wasn't real, or accepting that he just wasn't coming back. If my Mum wanted to do that there was little I could do about it but I wasn't going to lie down and accept it.
Mr Birch doesn't wait for a response though. "Good. Now let's kiss on it."
And to my horror he leans down and kisses me on the side of the mouth, really, like, assertively. All at once, a rush of mixed up emotions run through me like a horrible rainbow of sick and blood and vinegar. I don't want him to kiss me like that and I don't want Marcus to hear it because he'll think less of me. Or he'll think that I let old men kiss me. Or that I can't control who I kiss, which isn't an attractive quality in a person. I'm a young woman, and I'm meant to have spent the last fifteen years preparing myself to deal with situations like this. But I can't think of anything I can do other than just stand there in surprise.
Mr Birch gives me a little wink then and says, "I'll see you later at supper. Your Mum and I are cooking fisherman's pie," and then he's gone. I hear him pulling the drawers open in my Mum's room, heading down the stairs and then the swing of the front door closing behind him.
As Mr Birch was on the stairs, Marcus had already begun to clamber out from under the bed and now he gives me the strangest look.
"What the hell was that about?" asks Marcus, looking out onto the landing as though Mr Birch is still there. "That kissing thing, that was really bizarre."
I shrug, still feeling all of the different mixes of stuff whirling around my stomach, like one of those machines where you put a penny in it and watch as it tumbles down the sides going really fast. Only I've got about ten pennies in my stomach and they're all bumping into one another and pressing down too hard.
"Does he always do that?" Marcus wants to know. I shake my head and say that it hasn't happened before and Marcus pulls a face and says, "You might want to watch out for that."
And then it's like someone's put in another ten pennies because he's saying like it's not a big deal or like he doesn't know me very well. I don't think that Mr Birch is a pedophile or anything, he's just a bit strange, but Marcus doesn't know that. For all he knows it might have happened a lot and I might not have wanted to talk about it because I couldn't tell anyone. Why isn't he asking me about it?
Another penny. It's because he doesn't really care what happens to me.
♠ ♠ ♠
This story is off hiatus now.