“Fuck’s sake. Too much information.” I need a cigarette. Lifting the oak, we continue to carry it into Vi’s bedroom. The room seems much brighter since she’s been staying in here. And much cleaner, that’s for sure.
“Where do you want it?”
I point to the wall next to the oak wardrobe. I’d made the bookcases to the same height so they would fit in the space between the wardrobe and wall, giving her plenty of room for storage.
Once the bookcase is in place, we head back to the workshop for the other one and I light up, handing Shane a cigarette. He takes it and leans against the door of the workshop. “I’m sorry, man. It must be awkward for you.”
I inhale, lighting my cigarette and relish the familiar burn at the back of my throat. “So, are you going to ask Lilly out and make it official, or are you two just fucking?”
“Wait a minute, you think I broke her bed?” He laughs. “Wasn’t me. I wish it was, but you know I can’t go there.”
“I don’t see why not.” I let out a plume of smoke, the tendrils curling into the breeze. Lilly deserves someone who’s got the balls to commit. Shane’s always been the better man of the two of us. I came out of the army branded the town villain. He came out of the army a hero, now a copper.
“Are you gonna ask Violet out?”
I pause at the dream. If only I was twenty years younger and our circumstances were different. “Nah, mate. She won’t be sticking around. Did you know she has her A-levels. I want her to go to university and do something with her life. I can’t keep her here as much as I want to. It would be selfish of me.”
“And what does she want?”
“I don’t know. She’d probably be happy staying at the supermarket, but I’ll be damned if she’s gonna waste her life here.”
Shane stubs his cigarette out under his boot, and I do the same. Then we tackle the second bookcase. “Where is Violet anyway?”
“She’s at work today.” I glance at the old watch on my wrist, knowing she’ll be home soon. My chest swells as it always does when I think of her coming home. Things have been awkward as fuck since I came all over her. My cock stirs, thinking back to how fucking beautiful she looked with my cum spread over her tits like body lotion.
I’m hoping the new bookcases in her room will be some sort of ice breaker when she gets home, and we can move forward.
* * *
I hearher before I see her. The mini chugging over the gravel driveway always makes me smile. I’ve offered to get her another car. She can even drive the Ranger, but she loves that old mini.
Shane gathers the wood and saw he came for, gently placing it in the back of his car. “Hey Violet.”
She steps out of the mini in her work uniform, then pulls the bobble from her hair, letting it fall around her face. “Sup.” Grabbing her bag from the passenger seat, she hauls it over her shoulder and walks towards the door. Towards me.
“Good day?”
“It is now.” She bends down, greeting Belle, letting her lick her face as she kisses her wet black nose. I’ve never been so jealous of a fucking dog before. I want her to give me the same treatment, but all I get is a ‘sup’ these days. It’s for the best, but it hurts like a motherfucker wanting something you can’t have.
She goes into the house, and I say my goodbyes to Shane. Five minutes later, she’s halfway down the stairs with a smile on her face.
I stand at the bottom, ready to go up. “You like your room?”
She takes a few steps down so she’s closer but taller than me and wraps her arms around my neck. “Thank you.”
I slip my hands around her waist, sliding my palms over her back and bringing her flush to my chest. My eyes close, soaking up the closeness of her.
“Want to help me sort through the books in the boxes?” Her eyes are hopeful, making it difficult to say no.
“Come on.” I follow her up the stairs into her room and sort through the boxes of books that have been stored here since I left home. Dad started using my old room as a dumping ground when he had to clear out the back room downstairs for Mum’s hospital bed.
A mix of my parent’s books and some of mine along with Ali’s fill the tubs and boxes. “A lot of your mum’s belongings were brought here after she passed away.”
Vi turns to me, taking the books from my hands and placing them on the shelves. “Were these hers?”
“I don’t know which are hers and which are my parents. Most of hers are annotated like Jane Eyre.” I grab a few more books from the box. An old leather-bound copy slips from my hand, falling to the floor. Picking it up, I spot the title. Wuthering Heights, another one of Ali's favourite books. The well-worn cover brings fond memories. “This one’s definitely your mother’s.”
Vi flicks through the pages with a smile on her face. “She liked the classics, didn’t she?”
