Page 27 of Maybe (Mis-shapes #1)

EZRA

I craved escape, to lie on my back in a massive field somewhere, surrounded by nothing but yellow daisies and the sound of the universe breathing. I’d drag Isaac along, he’d sleep on his belly next to me, and I’d tell the stars about him.

Then… then we’d see.

Sadly, none of those were an option. So I made do with spilling my woes to Carly as I sat on the floor of her crummy kitchen, stroking her ancient terrier. “I messed up. With Isaac.”

She threw me a wry look while she ironed school uniforms. “Jonty said you’d been grumpy. I had a feeling it might involve one of that lot.”

If that boy was a band mate, he’d have been kicked out eons ago.

Carefully, Carly folded a shirt. “Let me guess; he offered you loads of dosh to get out of that shitty flat, and your elephantine stubbornness declined.”

I’d chuck Carly out of the band too. I’d become a solo artist.

“Um… worse, actually. I plied him with booze, took him down a dark alley, and snogged him.”

“And they say romance is dead.”

“It’s not. Or if it is then I’m trying to resuscitate it. But I fucked up. He wasn’t ready.”

“Wasn’t ready or doesn’t feel the same?”

“He loves me.” I pulled a face, telling myself stubborn was simply another word for resolute. “He even said so.”

“I daresay,” agreed Carly. “But as a… I dunno… and I’m just throwing ideas out here… as a, you know, a brother ?”

“Yes, that as well.” I flashed her an exasperated scowl. “But more than that. I can tell, you know? It’s always been there. He told me that, too.”

“I hope it bloody hasn’t,” she responded sharply. “He was a child when you left, Ez. Fourteen.”

“I don’t mean like that. I mean… we click.

When we started seeing each other again, I realised how much I missed him.

And I assumed it was just… you know… because he’s my brother.

But at the gig, seeing him on a night out, having him with me felt like I’d invited along a date or something.

Even Neil bloody picked up on it, and he was as high as a giraffe’s eyebrows.

But… it’s hard to explain. Except having Isaac there, next to me, staring up at me with his huge bloody doe eyes, it was like an explosion going off. ”

Carly made a derisive snort.

“Don’t be like that, Carls! It’s true!” An image of Isaac’s laughing mouth as he sat opposite me in McDonald’s flashed through my head.

“He… he translates my song lyrics into the story of my life like he’s fucking bilingual.

” Even Carly couldn’t. “And I know it sounds corny, but he’s, like, my soulmate.

When he’s around, even though his life is a fucked-up pile of shite, I feel better about myself. ”

“And you want to shag his brains out. You want an explosion .”

“That’s not the point.” God, she could irritate me. “But, seeing as you mention it, yes, I do. But not for the sake of emptying my sacs. For a long time, like for maybe the rest of my life.”

Carly sighed heavily. “I thought you hated that family? If I remember correctly , aren’t they a bunch of insufferable troglodytes, whose mere existence is an elaborate prank orchestrated by the universe to test your dwindling patience? ”

Jeez, did this woman ever forget anything? “Yeah. Well, Isaac’s different. I bunched him in with everyone else for the sake of convenience. But he’s the one for me, Carly. I know it. He always has been.”

Rolling her eyes, she shook out a pair of Jonty’s school trousers. “Blimey. I never thought I’d hear you say anything like that about anyone.”

“Nor did I,” I admitted. “Not until our father died and I saw Isaac again. Loving him isn’t a choice, Carly. It’s always been there. We both have shit to navigate, and I think that, as the last ten years have probably highlighted, we might both do that better together than estranged.”

Carly nodded, making a show of turning towards the door at her rear. Her lips curved in an amused smile.

“What are you staring at?” I asked, irritated.

“Nothing.” Chuckling, she carried on ironing the trousers. “Just wondering if Isaac was standing behind me and I hadn’t heard him come in. Because that sounds like the kind of speech he needs to hear, not me.”

“Aah. Well, I’m not sure I’m his favourite person right now.” Wincing, I see-sawed my hand from side to side. “I have a feeling the brother thing might be an issue for him.”

Carly snorted again. “Surely not.”

“And he’ll also think he has to choose between me and his mother. I’m not her favourite person either.”

“Can’t imagine why. Will he?”

Good question. “No. I don’t think so. I mean, Janice is never going to be my best buddy. If it wasn’t for her relationship with my father, my mum wouldn’t have gone under a fucking bus. But we can make it work.”

“Is she still living in London?”

“Yes. She’s in the same house I grew up in, except when she’s on some fancy holiday somewhere.”

“Spending those ill-gotten millions,” Carly surmised.

“Probably, but I don’t care. Similarly, I don’t care if she takes an Arctic cruise and the boat runs aground on a very pointy iceberg.

But Isaac does. She’s his mother. Even though she’s possibly not the finest of the species, he loves her and cares what she thinks.

And what Ed and Saffy would think, come to that. He wants them in his life.”

“Sounds like you need to build a few bridges then, doesn’t it?” She lowered her voice, drawing out the syllables. “If you want your precious Isaac for the rest of your life .”

I flicked her the V’s. Carly did an annoyingly good impression of me, especially when I whined. Even more annoyingly, she was always right about everything.

Some things never changed. Such as the information you could prize from a ward clerk if you sounded official enough.

When I was a kid, I’d heard my mum do it a hundred times, checking the whereabouts of my father, finding out whether it was worth keeping his pork chops warm or feeding them to the neighbour’s dog.

Over the phone, I introduced myself as an ENT doctor from St George’s, wanting to query a patient with Dr Fitz-Henry.

A very pleasant clerk attached to the emergency department informed me Dr Fitz-Henry would finish his shift at seven, and just before then would be a good time to page him.

Thus armed, I passed an agreeable half hour, from a few minutes after 7 p.m. onwards, squatting on the steps of Isaac’s mansion flat, strumming out my new tune.

“Do you have a licence for playing that here?”

A vaguely familiar, morose chap loomed over me. I couldn't place him until I spied the plastic bag of books tucked under his arm. Isaac’s date. Gerard? No. Gerald. I felt a prick of exasperation. This guy ? With my Isaac? Not if I had anything to do with it.

“Nope.” I stood, towering over him seeing as I was still a step higher and a lanky streak of piss. “I was just killing time waiting for you, actually.” I thrust out my hand. “Geoffrey, isn’t it?”

“Gerald.”

“Hi, Gerry. I’m Ezra. Isaac’s older brother. He asked me to drop by to tell you he’s been held up at work. Terribly sorry about that.”

Apparently, this guy was an optometrist. From the suspicious way he eyed me, that might have been a cover story for his detective work.

Although, to be fair, most people were flummoxed when a scruffy bum like me opened my mouth and twelve years of expensive schooling came out.

He checked his phone. “Why didn’t Isaac text me that himself? ”

I shrugged. “Gosh, don’t ask me. I’m merely the messenger. And we all know how frightfully busy that ED gets. Poor thing works so hard.”

“When did he say he’ll be back?”

Ah, dear Gerald seemed genuinely disappointed.

I almost felt sorry for him until I reminded myself Gerald was the competition.

Another bloke recognising Isaac's magical combination of beauty and innocence, mixed with an utter lack of awareness he possessed either. “He didn’t,” I said, cheerfully. “He’s probably pulling a late one.”

“Oh. I see.” Sizing me up, Gerald gave me a final onceover. Clearly, he sensed something fishy skulking in amongst the posh vowels, but didn't possess the balls to push a ratty oik like me any further. “In that case, can you… can you tell him I came over anyhow. And that I’ll call him.”

“Gosh, absolutely.” I gave him my brightest smile. “One hundred percent consider it done.”

On a scale of one to ten, Isaac’s outward enthusiasm on discovering me camped out on his doorstep rated a solid F.

Ah, well, the bigger the battle, the more glorious the triumph.

On a more positive note, he didn’t stop me following him up the steps to the front door, despite his clucking sounds of disapproval.

“Letting you in doesn’t mean I’m not still cross with you, by the way,” he warned, jiggling the key. “I’m just not prepared to have a public tussle with you, of any sort, out here on the street. Not now I’m sober .”

He treated me to a pointed look, and I threw him my most innocent one back.

“Don’t blame me! I’m aware you find me irresistible, but how was I to know you’d throw yourself at me after four pints of lager?”

“For fuck's sake, Ez. That’s not how it… ugh.”

Isaac vented his frustration on the stairs up to his flat, stamping his feet down hard on each step. Two flights of them gave me plenty of time to admire his arse. High, solid, and comfortable-looking. Rounding off a pair of chunky thighs my head would look amazing nestled between.

“Anyhow, you can’t stay long as I have a friend coming over.”

Reluctantly, I steered my thoughts back to where they needed to be. “Yes, you… ah… actually did have a visitor drop by, about ten minutes ago. Your non-fuck buddy, Gerard.”

“He’s not… don’t call him that! And it’s Gerald. He’s been invited, not like someone else I know.” We arrived at Isaac’s door. A touch breathless, he peered over my shoulder. “Where is he?”

“Er…” I peered up and down the staircase and shoved my hands in my pockets. “I kind of told him not today , thanks.”