Aaron Connor (16 page)

We had a good look at our
surroundings. From the building’s exterior we expected a very posh
collection of rooms with marble and chandeliers and such. From the
inside the building just looked like any other school you’d go to
up and down the country, maybe just a tiny bit scruffier. Just goes
to show that you can’t judge a book by its cover. Even though it
looked like quite a rough place, it still felt surprisingly cosy
and homely. We all knew that it will be comfortable to say
here.

“
This doesn’t
look too bad” said Lizzie, “Our school made us go some real dumps
on our school trips. Those places were way worse then this. I could
like it here.”

“
The others
are taking quite a while” I said, “Do you guys want to have a
little look around?”

“
Sure”
answered David,

“
Sounds good”
answered Lizzie.

Directly opposite us was an
open doorway leading into a corridor. Leading the way, the three of
us went through the doorway, switched on the light and ventured
inside. We found a little kitchen with a kettle, a fridge and some
boxes of teabags. At the end of the room was a little staircase
which led into an activities room.

The activities room was
reasonably large and contained many bashed in items of
entertainment. There was a piano with keys missing and the entire
back ripped off. The piano had a wheel missing making it slant at
an angle where it stood. At the back was a pool table with missing
balls and no cue sticks. The smashed windows at the back of the
room, with large circular holes in the centre of them, suggested
where those balls might have gone. There was also a large
television, the old kind with the long backs we had before flat
screen, with a very basic free view box plugged into it. It worked
perfectly fine though. There were some more ripped and torn
couches, all facing the television.

Once again, even though the
appearance suggested otherwise, the room still felt calm. It wasn’t
threatening in anyway. We sat down in front of the television and
watched some more late night comedy shows. All of us felt relaxed
and content. You don’t need all the expensive stuff to feel at
ease, all you really need are the bare essentials.

I don’t know how long we were
sitting there for, laughing at the hilarious comedians on the
screen. There was one joke, I think it was about women and make up,
that was so funny that I fell off my couch and was rolling along
the floor. Some of the things that the comedians said were funny!
It had all three of us in stitches. I swear that there was one
point where I was laughing so much, that I got a cramp in my sides
and I couldn’t even breathe. It was then that Lizzie was laughing
at me laughing. I love it when Lizzie laughs like that. It happens
very rarely even now, but when it does it lifts my heart. After
everything she’s been through; all of the bullying, putting up with
perverts staring at her and her battles with depression, it was
just nice to see her so happy like that.

It seemed like we’d been
sitting there for ages, laughing away like a bunch of hyenas, when
we heard voices coming from outside. Lizzie got up from her chair
and went over to the window to see what it was. She turned to look
at us with a disappointed expression on her face.

“
It’s them”
she said.

I think she must have been
enjoying the time we were spending together. She knew that it would
be ruined when those “Marvellous” people turned up. We all got up,
turned off the television, walked out the door, down the corridor
and into the foyer. Joe was already there and smiling from ear to
ear with glee.

“
Here we are!”
he cried, “Isn’t it marvellous?”

“
It’s a shit
hole!” said one of the boys,

“
It’s
disgusting” said another,

“
It’s gross”
said the girl we encountered on the train,

“
It’s
grotesque” said a boy at the back,

“
It isn’t that
bad” I added, “Sure, it may not look all that great. But it’s cosy
enough and back there there’s a pool table, a piano, a television
and . . .”

“
Of course
you’d like it” said the taller lad that David was telling us about
before, “you’re just a dirty Chav. Your used to this kind of
squalor, it’s where you belong! Us on the other hand deserve much
more than this”

“
Aaron’s
right” said Joe, coming to my rescue but still hugging that
horrible book of his, “It isn’t all that bad. This place has . . .
character, that’s right it has character. It’s got that lovely
“lived in” feel to it”

“
Nice to know
that someone likes it” said the girl from the train again, her nose
was raised and her arms were crossed, “I hate it. If living in here
makes me sick, I’ll call daddy and he’ll sue you he
will!”

“
No need to be
so dramatic” said Joe, “save that until the show. The rooms are up
the stairs, which are through this corridor here”

Joe pointed towards a doorway
that we hadn’t noticed before. It was on the opposite side of room
where the door leading into the activities room was. The young
actors filed into the room, all of them looking more disgusted then
the last. I didn’t understand what they were moaning about, it
wasn’t all that bad after all. I could see why poor little David
found it hard to make friends among such judgemental people.

The actors went upstairs to
their rooms. All the crew and creative team were to stay in the
rooms on the ground floor. We went through the doorway and into a
long corridor. To the left of us was the staircase where all of the
young actors had disappeared to, in front of us was a collection
doors just like in the hotel back in Epping.

Lizzie and I said goodnight to
David who went up stairs with the others. Even from the ground
level we could hear an awful lot of shouting. They were fighting
over rooms, screaming about how “disgusting” the place was and a
lot of spoilt kids screaming about suing Joe for child abuse. They
were screaming about the smell, about the toilets and about
everything that they could think of.

It was pretty revolting to hear
them acting in that way. I guess that’s what happens when you’re
born with everything. You always expect that you’re going to get
everything by default. If you don’t get everything then all hell
breaks loose. That’s why I’m glad that I was brought up on basic
needs, so when I grow up all I shall ever want is basic needs. That
was probably why I didn’t see any real issues with this dormitory.
To me it was fairly warm, spacious, had indoor toilets, a kitchen
for cooking, many bedrooms and shower rooms on every floor (which
we found out about, from hearing the kids upstairs moaning about no
fresh towels).

I was happy with the place as
it gave me and Lizzie somewhere comfortable to stay. It meant that
we wouldn’t be sleeping out in the cold. For me, that was all that
mattered.

Joe showed us to our room. It
was a room with two beds, a sink, a mirror and a shelf. It was
small and plain but served its purpose.

“
Under there”
said Joe, pointing towards a tiny wooden door underneath both beds,
“are lockable safes which come with their own locks. It would be a
good place to put any valuables”

At that time, the only valuable
objects we had were the £20 that Ritchie gave us and the keys to
the Moped. The Moped had only just begun to run low on petrol, so
we knew that most of that £20 was most likely going to go on that.
Whatever the amount was left over would go straight on food.

We used the little safes
underneath the beds to put both shares of money into. The bike’s
keys also went into my safe. We closed them, locked them and placed
the keys into the draw underneath the sink. It was bit of an
obvious place I know, but there wasn’t really anywhere else we
could put them.

Content that we were both
settled in, Joe left to unpack his massive suitcase in his own
room. Both me and Lizzie got changed and went to bed instantly.
Even though he had a long kip on the train up there, we were both
still utterly exhausted. We went into our separate beds and began
to relax. I was just about to nod off when the cover lifted from me
and I could feel Lizzie getting into my bed with me.

“
What are you
up to?” I asked,

“
I was lonely
over there” said Lizzie, “I like it when we snuggle”

So once again we slept in the
same bed together. Before you even suggest it, no, we didn’t have
sex. It wasn’t the right time or place at that point. Living under
the same roof as a bunch of spoilt brats and man who was putting on
an offensive play in a selfish attempt to gain fame, wasn’t exactly
the most romantic of locations. It wasn’t the kind of place you
wanted to get intimate, if we were alone that would be a different
matter.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want
to, because I really did. Lizzie was fit. Nothing else could have
been better, to express how much I loved her. Lizzie was still a
virgin, as was I, so I wanted our first time to be something truly
special. I wanted it to be beautiful and romantic, not just for the
mechanical desire for pleasure. I was still waiting for the perfect
setting and situation to try it. That abandoned school wasn’t the
right setting at all.

I closed my eyes and wrapped by
arm around Lizzie’s shoulder. The last thing that I can remember
before going to sleep was the feel of Lizzie’s lips against mine in
a surprise kiss. We kissed. During the kiss, we opened our mouths
and allowed our tongues to get involved. It was my first French
kiss, it was a whole new league for me. It was a nice surprise. I
wasn’t expecting it.

We parted and Lizzie rested her
head on my bare chest. I stroked her hair gently. Soon I was asleep
and dreaming. I can’t remember what it was I was dreaming about,
just that it was a good dream. It’s a shame I can’t remember what
the dream was about. I think I can make an educated guess of who
the dream was about.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

We were awoken the next day, by
Joe screaming numbers out in German. It gave us quite a start. He
was being loud. I looked over at the clock and it said “6:00am” in
red digital lights. Our sleepy heads were having a problem
understanding what was going on. All we could hear was Joe’s voice
shouting like a madman. It sounded like he was in the corridor. The
sound of his thudding feet suggested that he was marching up and
down at a steady pace.

“
Eins! Zwei,
Drei! Vier! Fünf!” he was shouting, “Sechs! Sieben! Acht! Neun!
Zehn!”

“
What the
bloody hell is going on?” asked Lizzie, who had a serious case of
bed hair, and looked like Russell Brand in his early years, “who’s
that yelling?”

“
It’s Joe” I
said in a yawn, “we’d better get used to stuff like this. Let’s go
and see what’s he’s up to”

We got up, put our shirts over
ourselves for decency and went out into the corridor. What we saw
was beyond shocking. It gave us a full portrait of what Joe was all
about. What we saw made us realised that this man would stop at
nothing, offend anyone and be the biggest dick that he could be if
it meant giving him fame and fortune. This one image alone captured
the very essence of Joe Pepper.

He was goose-stepping up and
down the hallway in a full Nazi uniform! His jack boots were
smacking down on the floor with great power as he marched along.
His arm was held upright in a straight Hitler salute. There was a
massive humorous grin on his face. He was doing this horrid little
performance as if it were all just a joke. It was as if he didn’t
realise how offensive he was being.

This wasn’t like that film The
Producers where they put on a show called Springtime for Hitler to
try and make more money from a flopped show. That was a funny
movie, with Gene Wilder at his best. The Springtime for Hitler part
of the movie, has become an iconic comedy moment with reason, it’s
hilarious. It wasn’t offensive, it was just very funny. This was
because of the context in which Mel Brooks put the Nazi satire in.
What Joe was doing was nothing like that. He was just a sad old man
being a dick. It wasn’t funny and it wasn’t clever. It was just
bloody stupid.

I remember seeing Lizzie’s eyes
being wide open from shock. I knew exactly how she felt. I couldn’t
believe how insensitive this man was being. I just hoped that he
wasn’t planning on going into the city like that. The thing is if
you don’t see messed up stuff like this for yourself, then you
don’t believe that it’s real. I know that’s real because I remember
watching it happen before my eyes.

Soon the kids came down, saw
what he was doing and were laughing their heads off. Some of them
even began applauding Joe’s horrible impersonation and praised him.
This made my blood boil. It made me so mad that a man as deranged
as this was allowed to influence children in way he did. I was so
furious by the idea that he was showing these children that such
behaviour was ok.

If you do a Nazi joke within
context, then that can just about slide. A “sort of” acceptable
Nazi joke is like when you give a Hitler salute to a Teacher who’s
ordered you to do something. It’s still politically incorrect but
within context you can just about get away with it. To just get
into a Nazi uniform, start marching up and down a corridor, doing
the salute and shouting things out in German not only isn’t funny,
but makes you look like a complete arsehole.

What we found most disturbing
about Joe was that he was, at heart, a nice guy. He paid for us to
come here, has promised to pay for our meals on top of the money we
earn from the job and gave us a room to stay in. He defends out
honour when people get arsey with us and makes sure that we’re
ok.