Authors: Rachael Eyre
Day Trip
Josh was tormented by thoughts of Alfred in the weeks that followed. They hadn’t spoken, never mind met. Whenever he relented, he remembered the wayward behaviour and hurtful comments. He wouldn’t apologise. It was up to Alfred to make the first move. He carried on missing him, too proud to admit it.
Everybody had succumbed to wedding fever. Every time he walked through a door he found Claire, a squad of girls and any number of organisers, dressmakers and photographers. The ceremony would be at the town hall. Josh liked its age old elegance and hundred candled chandeliers, but that was washed away by rehearsals. Every move they made, every word they said was choreographed. Their vows seemed so meaningless, they might have been reciting the two times table.
“Oof!” Claire sighed as they finished up at her house or the flat. They’d watch films, chat about nothing. He preferred this version of her, wearing cut off shorts and a baggy top. Next day she’d be a wedding fiend, plotting with Sienna as though it was a political assassination.
“You want something classic, something that says ‘fairy tale romance’,” the guru rasped.
“You know, those are exactly the words I was lookin’ for? I want to show every girl it doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from. Every girl should get to be a princess for the day.”
“Oh, that’s
fantastic.
”
They’d collaborate on a piece of copy. Claire smiled for a bevy of reporters and showed off her diamond.
“Reach for your dreams,” she said. “I was never good at school; my teachers said I’d never be anything. Then I met Josh -”
There didn’t seem to be room for the groom in a fairy tale wedding. All he had to do was put a hand on her shoulder and gawp adoringly. With his days plotted, his mind was free to wander. One question came up over and over. What was he going to do about Alfred?
Josh
knew he was going to hurt him. He wanted to be a good friend, show him he was on his side, but how could he balance it with betrayal? Thinking about it, why had Alfred fallen in love with
him?
Yes, he was clever, but so was every artificial. He looked at his face, his ‘perfect’ body, and found them bland. Alfred was far more appealing, with his scars, muscles and wonky grin.
Maybe he felt sorry for him. Maybe he excited his chivalric instincts. There was no logic to the emotion and it disturbed him.
A rare wedding free weekend. They were down at Claire’s mum’s - once a month she made a roast for family and hangers on. Josh offered to help but she shooed him away.
Claire lay on the sofa, flipping through veebox stations. Zoe was on the tube gossiping. Mouse sat on the floor, making an amphitheatre for her homework. He gave her a hand.
“Why’s Hammy here?”
“He’s the lion,” she explained.
“Don’t have Hammy on the floor. It’s dirty,” Claire said.
“He’s not doing any harm.”
“Mum’ll have a fit. Gods, I’m
bored!”
“You could help,” Josh said.
“Yeah, right. Never liked history. Why don’t we learn what’s happenin’
now?
”
She flung the cushions from the sofa and went into the hall. She tugged at the stair cupboard door. Nothing happened. She rattled the handle.
“Here, let me.” Josh stepped over ancient Farva and pulled on the handle. An avalanche gushed out: not just shoes and coats, but unopened bills, posters, snooker cues, racquets -
“Mum! Were you goin’ to tidy this
ever
?”
Joyce slunk into the hall. “I let things go when your dad died. Must be twelve years’ worth of crap in there.”
“Operation Clean Up Cupboard!” Claire cried.
She was less enthusiastic an hour later, when the tides of junk showed no sign of abating. “It’s magic. Don’t see how else it’d fit in such a tiny space. Ugh! Spider!”
Why did a tiny, harmless creature reduce girls to jelly? Even Gwyn refused to go near them.
“Drown it,” she said. “Flush it down the loo.”
“I’ll do no such thing.” Josh put it through the window. “Anything else?”
“Zoe’s diary. We’ve
got
to read it. School reports, wool - Ugh! Teeth!”
He stared at the frail white things inside an old jewellery box. “Who keeps a box of teeth?”
Claire explained the concept of the tooth fairy. He was none the wiser when she had finished.
“Why collect teeth? Why not keep the money and, I don’t know, buy a summer home?”
“Maybe they build it
from
teeth.”
“That’s horrible.”
“You asked.”
They’d picked out two bin bags: one for things they intended to keep, another for things they were throwing away. She pulled something out and shrieked.
“Another spider?” Josh asked.
“No, Mum’s porn stash. Gross!”
It flipped open to show an oiled up man with a moustache, flexing his muscles and smirking. He looked familiar.
“Lewis
Sinclair
?”
“The explorer?” Claire gasped. “Must be one of those goofy calendars.” She showed him the back. “See, there’s twelve on the last one. It was probably okay then, but now it looks like a big gay orgy.”
With a lurch Josh recognised the figure for August. Once Claire had stopped sniggering and gone in search of Joyce, he turned to that page. Alfred as he’d never seen him. Arms folded, chin up, a mischievous smile he knew by heart. The lines of his muscles, the rich auburn hair - he was wonderful.
“Mum says it’s not hers!” Claire shouted. “As
if!
”
Josh ripped out the page and stuffed it into his pocket.
The wedding was an unstoppable beast. After months of preparations it had snuck up on them - now it was in ten days’ time. Josh dreamt he jumped through the stained glass windows or hung onto Claire’s train, yelling he wasn’t ready.
Their latest venture was very hush-hush. They were collected from the flat in the small hours and taken for a two hour ride in a smoked glass vix.
“Last night was amazin’,” Claire whispered.
He’d fingered her half heartedly; she took him in her mouth. He hadn’t felt anything until he’d conjured the calendar, pretending it was Alfred beneath him.
“Oh, you little love birds,” Sienna said. “Don’t you look a picture?”
Unless that picture was entitled
Groom Leaps From Moving Vehicle,
Josh doubted it. Like Claire, Sienna talked to fill the silence. They stopped outside a pink and green building shaped like an ice cream cone.
“You’re lucky to get a booking,” Sienna said. “Katya doesn’t dress just anyone.”
Claire didn’t know the name but pretended she did. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely.”
A tall woman with a sweep of purple hair appeared, squinting at them through a lorgnette. Her dress was scalding yellow, as were her shoes and pigskin gloves.
“I don’t do lovely, I do art. From these unpromising beginnings I will make gold.”
Claire shrank, terrified. Josh met her gaze and refused to flinch.
Wanker,
Alfred murmured inside his head.
Like everything else, the fitting revolved around Claire. She and Sienna expected him to be as thrilled about trying on a cargo of identical dresses as they were.
“Oh, you look stunning!” You’d think Sienna was marrying off her own daughter, the way she dabbed her eyes.
Claire twirled. “What do
you
think?”
“Mmph.” It had been his response to the last ten dresses. He’d chosen his suit within the first hour.
“Let’s not go for white. Too old fashioned.” Sienna lit up perilously close to the curtain.
“Good idea. And,” Claire eyeballed Josh, “we haven’t any right to it.”
“Oh, you naughty monkeys!”
Josh stood up. Idle chatter he could endure, but swapping secrets of their sex life?
“Ants in your pants, love?” Sienna barked.
“I need head room -”
He could hear her in the corridor. “It affects men like that. I remember my Ernie before we got hitched.”
“He’s definitely interested?”
“Pumpkin, how could he not be?”
Josh wandered down the path, kicking pebbles. Katya had a strange fixation with yellow: most of the flowers were some shade and even the grass appeared to have been treated. It made your eyes skip.
There was a sound of running water. He followed it. A verdigris wishing well, patterned with loveknots. A familiar figure was standing by it, staring into the water. He could sketch that head and shoulders with his eyes shut.
Tiptoeing over, he tapped him.“How did you know where to find me?”
Alfred turned, framed by rushing water. “I have my methods.” As Josh raised an eyebrow, “I asked Dr Sugar. - I always thought a fondness for yellow was a sign of insanity.”
“Maybe she really likes custard.”
It was a stupid joke but it thawed any awkwardness. They laughed for a moment, then sighed.
“Why’ve you been avoiding me, Josh?”
“I was waiting for you to apologise.”
“Stubborn boy.”
“Stubborn man.”
The thoughts Josh had had over the past few days were oozing out of him. He was separated from that glorious body by a few inches of fabric - he stopped himself from reaching for his lapels. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve come to rescue you.” As his insides jolted, “Not from your wedding, you dolt. I know you’d only enjoy a fitting if it was you in the dress. It’s not, is it?”
“Of course not.”
“It’s not a displeasing idea. - We could go to Lowe and back before they notice you’re gone.”
A trip to Lowe; Josh didn’t know what he liked best. Strolling along the pier? Trying peculiar ice creams? Eating oysters from the barrel? Climbing the rock formations, giggling as they crashed into a pool? He handed over a coin to be turned into a souvenir disk. He watched the machinery as it munched it up and spat it out.
“I don’t understand how you’re surrounded by impressive technology but like stuff like this,” Alfred said.
“How do you know my insides don’t look like that?”
“I’m sure they don’t.”
“I’m a machine, aren’t I?”
“What happens to your food after you eat? You don’t have to tell me,” Alfred added, as Josh crimsoned.
“I can break it down only so far, then it drains into a dish. I empty it out and put it back in. It’s why I don’t eat much.”
“Doesn’t it get -”
“Boring? Yes.”
They tried to look through a telescope but it spun out of their hands. They gave up and draped themselves over an iron bench.
“I find boredom terrifying,” Alfred grimaced.
“I know you do.”
It was a wet, misty day. They edged closer to one another for warmth. Josh laid with his head in Alfred’s lap, breathing in his coat, his tobacco. A spicy, mannish smell. He felt the hand go to his hair and let it rest.
“How do you know humans aren’t robots made so long ago everyone’s forgotten?”
“Whoa. You’ve committed six heresies there!”
“That doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Thanks to the mist, they didn’t see a couple walking their dog until they were on top of them. A typical elderly pair, grey and insignificant.
“Afternoon,” Alfred said. As they registered Josh lying across his lap, their faces became ugly with disapproval. They towed the dog away as though he might catch something.
What was that about? Was it because they were a human and a robot? A young man and an older man?
“Come on.” The humour had drained from Alfred’s voice. “Let’s go.”
Neither of them liked public transport, but it was a good way of getting to know Lux. “Keep hold of your ticket,” Alfred murmured. “And watch for pickpockets.”
Derdyts had a special flavour all their own. To begin with, they were faster, rocketing through tunnels at knuckle whitening speeds. They were standing room only, meaning you clung to a harness. There was no limit to how many passengers they could carry, resulting in collisions with briefcases, elbows and groins.
“Hold on.” Alfred gripped a harness, Josh wrapped himself around the metal bar.
“Do you think anyone lives down here?”
“Nanny used to say it was the gateway to hell. You’d see hairy men in chains if you squinted.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t grow up traumatised.”
“No, that happened later.”
It was a joke, but Josh wanted to know more about the sadness at the core of Alfred’s life. A man doesn’t shut himself away from the world just because his sister died. He caught sight of his reflection - and Alfred, looking at him with such desire it made him tremble.