Page 90 of Marley
“Of course it’s all right. I told you to treat this place like your own while you’re here. There’s some muscle soak bubble bath shit under the sink if you wanna throw that in.”
“Thank you.”
“You need help washing your back ... or your front?”
“Do you ever give in?”
“Never. So, do you?”
“No, Marley, I think I can manage.”
“Just shout if you change your mind, baby.”
I can’t tell if her eyes were watery because of her condition, or if she was about to cry. “Why are you doing this for me, Marley? Why are you looking after me?” Shit, she was about to cry.
I walked into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. I got Milo to buy her some girlie bedding yesterday, and Mrs. Cooper washed, dried, and put it on the bed for her earlier. I told him to get purple, as she seemed to like it.
She looked so young sitting there, surrounded by purple pillows and sheets. I tucked a wayward strand of blonde hair behind her ear before I spoke. “Why won’t you believe that I really like you, Ash?”
“Because boys like you don’t waste their time on girls like me.”
“So boys like me have no interest in smart, funny, mouthy, sexy girls like you?” I asked. She shook her head no.
“That’s got fuck all to do with it. That shit’s all just for show. I’m talking about me, the real me; where I come from, who my parents are, where I was living.”
Now it’s my turn to shake my head. “Where you come from, who your family are, and where I found you living, have all gone into making you the person that you are, and I happen to like that person, Ash. I don’t know why you keep banging on about blokes like me. I come from the same place as you. We went to the same school, for fuck’s sake.”
I wasn’t a snob, and I’d never looked down my nose at anyone—that’s not the way we were raised—and it was pissing me off that she kept implying that I somehow thought that I was better than her. Yeah, I described the place she was living as a shit hole because it fucking was, but I wasn’t judging her for it.
“We hardly had the same upbringing though.”
“What the fuck has that got to do with anything?” I asked, my voice sounding high-pitched in disbelief. “I like you, Ash, a lot, and if you like me, then there’s no reason why we can’t give this a go, that is unless youdon’tlike me, and you’re just coming up with bullshit excuses as to why we can’t be together. And if that’s the case, well then, that’s fine. I’ll help you out anyway, because I like you. Just say the word and I’ll back the fuck off and leave you to get yourself well, then I’ll help you find a new place to stay.”
Please don’t say the word. Please, please don’t.
“I’m not a charity case. I’m not a little project for you and your family to work on.”
What?
“What the fuck has my family got to do with this?”
“Well, there’s you feeding me bullshit so you can get into my knickers. There’s Georgia being my mate, just because she doesn’t have too many to choose from, and there’s your mum, giving me a job and treating me like the rain in Spain bird, out of the Doctor Doolittle film, trying to make me talk and dress all proper.”
That’s what she thinks of us?
I watch in silence as she wipes her nose on the back of her hand. That was why I didn’t do relationships. That was why I didn’t do that caring bollocks. It just made your chest hurt.
It took me a few seconds to calm the emotions bubbling inside of me, trying to think of what to say. She could bitch about me all she wanted, but bringing my family into it, I was gonna get pissed off.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve clued me up on how you really feel. I won’t waste any more of your time, but just so you know, the only thing I was planning on feeding you today was the shepherd’s pie I’ve spent the last two hours making us for dinner. Georgia is just choosey about who she lets into her life, and you should feel fucking honoured that my sister has letyouin and givenyouthe title of friend. As for my mum ... from what I hear, my mum gave you that job because apparently you’re an excellent sales woman. She gives you an allowance to spend on clothes because it’s a perk of the job, and good advertising for the shop. And as for the bird from the film? You’re even wrong on that score, sweetheart. Her names Eliza Doolittle, and the play’s calledPygmalion,the film isMy Fair Lady. Doctor Doolittle has got fuck all to do with it. Even I know that much.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds before Ash started to climb out of bed. “I’m off. I don’t need this bullshit, and I don’t need to be lectured by you.” She headed into my wardrobe and started pulling her clothes off the hangers.
“Where the fuck areyougonna go?” I snapped. I shouldn’t have used that tone, implying that I was her only option. I knew it as soon as I said it.
She spun around and stared at me with an armful of her designer dresses, held against her chest. “You think I don’t have places to go? People that I can stay with? People that care and don’t just see me as a charity case?”
Whoa, that fucking hurt.
