Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
George and Jeremy's Tale - Pt 3
After a few hours swimming and sunbathing, they headed home. Jeremy didn't want to come in for a cup of tea. He'd rather have a beer, he was a Carver after all. George wasn't allowed beer.
They parted reluctantly and Jeremy walked on home. Although the movies didn't start until 8pm., George was soaking in the bath by 6 o'clock. He protested when his mam brought Nita in to have a bath with him, but then sat with the baby between his knees and washed her with his soapy hands.
After playing with the baby for a few minutes, he called out for his mam to come and take her away before she peed or something.
George washed himself thoroughly, scrubbing every inch of skin and paying special attention to you-know-where, both front and back. Who knew what could happen tonight? He got out, dried himself, scrubbed his teeth and used half a can of hair spray.
He then spent an agonizing hour deciding what clothes to wear. He didn't have a terrific lot of clothes, but he wanted to look his absolute best. Jeremy always looked good.
Finally! He was going out on a date - his first date. This was a date wasn't it? Yes, of course it was.
Shortly before 7.30pm., he left home and walked around to the Carver's to collect Jeremy as he had been instructed to. Around in Derby Street, George stood on the sidewalk outside the Carver's house wishing that he was somewhere else, anywhere else. These people were scary.
He wished that Jeremy hadn't insisted on him coming around here. Why hadn't he come back to George's house? But, he didn't. George was there now. Did he want a friend? Was he worth it? Yes. Of course he was.
Taking his courage in both hands, George gulped, took a couple of deep breaths and marched, stiff-leggedly, down the graveled drive to the back of the house.
In Westpoint, callers always went to the back door of a house. They might be escorted through the front door on the way out, but they always, always, went in by the back door. Anything else was considered bad manners. Even visiting priests and ministers went to the back door first.
The door was wide open. Before he went up the steps to it, a face appeared in the dark doorway. Jeremy? No, Jakie. "Hi, George. What are you doing here?"
"Hello Jakie. I'm...I'm looking for Jeremy. Is he here?"
"I think so. Hold on." He turned, looked back inside, and yelled. "Jeremy! Get out here. You've got a visitor."
Jeremy appeared out of the darkness inside and flashed a huge grin at him. "Hi George."
He looked good too. Still in his tight blue jeans and white T-shirt, now he wore an oversized blue-denim jacket as well. His hair was carefully combed forward in a Beatles styled fringe.
"Hi, Jeremy," He smiled back. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah. Ready and waiting." He turned and called back inside. "Come on you lot - we're going."
Four young kids came running out excitedly. One boy with red hair and freckles, two blond haired boys and a dark haired girl. Miniature Carvers! They all looked to be about eight or nine years old and were dressed up and ready to go to the movies.
"Sorry about this. Granny will only let me go out if we take this lot with us. They can't go on their own, other kids pick on them and there's always a fight."
"That's okay, I guess. I'm used to babysitting too."
"Well they're not babies. They're bloody monsters, the lot of them. But, don't worry; we've got help to keep them in line. Sophie! Dianne! We're on our way."
Two older girls came out pushing past him. "Move your arse then Jeremy. Come on before we lose them."
The girls were teenagers, both about fourteen. One had dark hair rolled up on her head, the other had a long mane of dark-red hair. Both were heavily made-up and they were wearing mini-skirts which barely covered their backsides. The Redhead was smoking a cigarette.
"So. Do you know my cousins? Sophie Carver with the redhair and the other is Dianne McLean. She's a Carver too, her mum was anyway."
"Yeah. I know your cousins. I know who they are anyway, from school. Hello Sophie, Dianne."
"Hello Georgie Porgie. How's it hanging?" said Dianne.
Sophie disagreed. "Probably not hanging at all. How's it Georgie Porgie?"
"I..umm..I wish you wouldn't call me that."
"Why not? It's your name innit? Georgie Porgie, pudding 'n pie." They walked out the drive after the kids.
George stood still - pissed off. Jeremy started walking, then looked back.. "You coming George? Don't worry about them, they're just bitches anyway."
"Shut the hell up, Jeremy Carver - bitch yourself." Sophie tossed her hair and kept going.
Strung out in a line, the group walked a few blocks up through the town. George was not happy, not any more. He wanted to be with Jeremy, but he could have done without all these others. The big girls really were smart-mouthed bitches. Was it worth putting up with them to be with Jeremy? Maybe. Then it wasn't.
Going up Brigham Street, they came to a hopscotch pattern chalked on the concrete sidewalk outside the Square. The girls, then all the kids, started skipping along it while singing. "Georgie Porgie, pudding 'n pie. Kissed the girls and made them cry..."
George stood looking at them all, really pissed off now. Was it worth it? No. It bloody wasn't." He started walking away. He felt like crying, but he wasn't going to. The Bitches! Why did they have to be so mean?
Jeremy called out after him. "George. George, what are you doing? Where are you going?"
He just waved a hand and kept walking, looking straight ahead. Jeremy ran up and caught him by one arm.
"The movie theatre's this way. Where are you going?"
"Get off, Carver. I'm going home."
"But. But, I thought we were going to the movies?"
"Well I'm not. I'm going home." George stormed off up the street. He half-wished that they'd come running after him and beg him to come back. But they didn't.
Jeremy just stood there and called out. "George. George, come on. Don't be so touchy."
Bugger 'im anyway. George went home and left Jeremy with his family - his horrible family. He was welcome to them. George didn't need this. When he got home, his Mam and Jimmy were surprised to see him back so early but they didn't push it. They'd been talking and weren't that happy about him hanging around the Carvers anyway.
He went to his room, turned the radio on and settled back on his bed with a book. It was a comic book, but, hey, that's still reading. A few minutes later he heard a knock at the back door which was just outside his room. He was going to answer it, but didn't. It wasn't his house and it wouldn't be for him anyway.
His Mam came out and answered the door. From his room, he could hear her talking to someone out there. Then she went back to the kitchen. None of his business anyway.
He got a fright when there was a sudden knock on his bedroom door, looked up and called, "Hello? Come in."
The door opened and a freckled face appeared. "Jeremy! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the movies."
"Well I was, but now I'm here. I changed my mind too. Can I come in?"
"Yeah, sure. Come in and sit down." He swung his legs off the bed to make room. "What are you doing here?"
Jeremy sat down and looked at him. "So, what are you doing here?"
"What do you mean, what am I doing here? I live here."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it. I thought we were going to the movies."
"So did I, but I changed my mind."
"But why did you change your mind? Don't you want to be seen out with me?"
"Seen with you? Why not? That's not a problem."
"It's not? Great. So what is the problem then?"
"It's . . . well, it's your cousins I didn't want to spend the whole night with them taking the piss out of me."
"Yeah. Well, they're just bitches - I already told you that. You shouldn't let them get to you. Just ignore them and they'll get tired of it."
"Maybe I'm tired of it already. I hate it - I really hate it when people call me that stupid name. It's all I hear everywhere I go."
"Getting upset and blowing your stack isn't going to help you know. They'll keep on if they see it's getting to you. You have to ignore them."
"Maybe you're right. Probably you are. I'll try to anyway. Why did you come back here?"
"For you of course. My gran says when you find a good friend, you should grab hold and not let go."
"Does she really?"
"No. I just made that up. I like you, George, and I want you for my friend. I don't have any friends, apart from my cousins and my brothers of course."
"I don't have any friends either, not around here anyway. And, I've got no brothers at all."
"You don't know how lucky you are. Jakie's all right, but Gordie and Colin are right pains. You want a friend?"
"You're...ah...you're offering? Oh yes! I so want a friend."
"Great. So, what do you want to do now then?"
('I know what I want to do, but I can't tell you that.')
('I know what I'd like to do, but I can't tell you that.')
"I dunno. What do you want to do?"
"We could - ah - go for a walk, maybe. Go see Westpoint by night?"
"Westpoint by night? That'll be exciting. Yeah, okay. Let's go for a walk then, Friend."
So, after clearing it with his mam, they walked the quiet streets of Westpoint by night, chattering away easily to each other. Thankfully it was high-summer so there was no rain to drench them or clouds of dirty coal-smoke to choke them. It was a pleasant evening, quiet, still and warm, but, ominously, there was no sunset - so there was rain coming soon.
As they walked and talked, their new relationship moved up a gear as they each tried to tell the other everything about themselves. (Except for the one thing, the big thing that was at the front of both's minds.)
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