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fellowshippers2006-06-17 11:20 pm
arabia764.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-06-17 11:20 pm
Fic: Us Against The World -- Damaged story 5 Elijah/Orli N17 4/10
Title: Us Against The World – Damaged story 5
Chapter: Four
Author: Arabia
Pairing: Elijah/Orli
Rating N17
Disclaimer: Total fiction
Feedback: Is always very much appreciated.
This is NOT a WIP – it is all finished and will be posted once a week.
The first four stories can be found in my memories.
Thank you to my darling otp![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
grievous_angel for the wonderful beta and all the support, and to annwyn55 for making the beautiful icon that goes with the fic.
This story is for Pum. She knows why and it is perfect.
Us Against The World
Chapter Four
By Thursday Orli had almost forgotten about the photographs that still sat, where they had been thrust, at the back of the kitchen drawer. He managed to blank from his mind the voice of the man on the telephone and the threats he’d uttered. Elijah wasn’t so sure but he knew it didn’t matter, if Orli wasn’t going to freak over it then who cared?
When the phone call came that evening, as they were flopped out over the sofa, his head in Orli’s lap, Elijah wasn’t surprised, just resigned. He reached over Orli, elbow in his crotch, for the spare phone as soon as he heard the voice say his name on the other end. There was no way he was going to talk to this man without Orli hearing every word, every nuance, every hiss.
“Why don’t you just piss off,” Elijah said in a bored, disinterested voice when Orli had the phone held firmly at his ear. He swung round and sat up, pressing himself against Orli’s side and hooking a leg over his lap. Orli pulled the leg in tighter, one hand on Elijah’s thigh, the other on the phone.
“Because I want my money,” the man said. “And I want it now.”
“Listen you fucker,” Elijah said, but there was no heat in the curse, more a tedious acceptance of a distasteful job that had to be done. “You were bloody lucky to have me, you aren’t getting anything else, not my time and not a penny of my money.”
“You owe me,” the man hissed.
“I don’t even know you,” Elijah exclaimed but the passion was soon spent. “I don’t care about you, you have nothing to do with me and you can’t hurt me. So just crawl back under whatever putrid stone you came out of and leave me in peace.”
“You owe me everything,” and the way the man said it made Elijah sit up a little further. There was an undertow, nasty, twisted and evil. And something else.
“Stay away from us,” Elijah said, his voice firm. “You have nothing on me.”
“Don’t I?”
Elijah felt something still inside him, cold and hard. “What? What are you threatening me with time? Some other piece of crap.”
“Not crap, something not even you would want let out.”
“What?” Elijah demanded.
“Just give me my money and I’ll leave you alone, no one would have to know.”
“What?”
“Even lover boy couldn’t take this.”
Elijah’s eyes darted to Orli and there was a breath of a question at the back of them. Orli had to dispel it. “Fuck off you loser, there’s nothing that’d bother me about him.” Orli said, his voice sounding calmer than he expected.
For a moment the man was confused and all they could here was his breathing. “But you don’t know what…”
“Can’t you hear properly?” Orli snarled. “I don’t give a shit about anything you could say.”
“You’ll be sorry, he’ll be sorry…”
Elijah interrupted this time. “You have nothing, you are nothing.”
“You fucking…” There was a sharp intake of breath and then the man spoke again. “Ask your mum. Ask that old whore what I’ve got and then you can give me the money, only by then the price will have doubled.”
“Mum…?” Elijah’s voice lost the hard tone. “What’s she got to do with anything?”
“You ask her, you ask her about me.”
“You’re just some bastard I did, you’ve got nothing to do with her or me,” but Elijah remembered the man had implied that his mum had sent him. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“Len,” his voice was harder and more menacing than ever. “You tell that bitch Lenny’s back and he wants his money. Six grand. I’ll be in touch.” And then the line went dead.
Elijah held the phone out in front of him, gazing at it as if it could answer his questions. Orli took it from his hand and switched it off, placing it carefully back in its cradle. He looked at Elijah and raised his eyebrows in a rueful smile. “Well, I guess we know he isn’t gone.”
“The slimeball,” Elijah shook his head. “He just pops up after all this time and threatens me with crap and then tries to drag my mum into it. What kind of bastard is he?”
“A slimeball bastard?” Orli ventured.
The twist on words was lost on Elijah. “I thought I was done with dickheads like him, thought I was done with dealing with all that shit but it’s being stirred up again. How fucking dare he come back and do that. Did he really think I’d remember him? That he’d even raise a blip on my radar?”
“Maybe he thought he was a,” Orli searched round for a good word. “Memorable fuck.”
“Yeah right,” Elijah snorted. “They were all the same; a big fat nothing and all lousy fucks. But now what? Now I have to go cap in hand asking my mum?” Elijah shook his head. “Bastard, bastard, bastard.”
“What have you got to talk to your mum for?” Orli demanded, resentment and anger suddenly flaring. “Don’t give the tosser the satisfaction of wasting your time on him.”
“But what if…”
“What? What can either of them possibly say that would matter?”
“I don’t know but he obviously thinks he has something.” Elijah pressed his lips together hard and ran a hand over his face and up through his hair. “I hate that things are stirred up again, that our peace is being affected.”
“Christ, it’s only affected if you let it,” Orli stated.
“Oh come on, he thinks he has something on me and I’m guessing he’s prepared to use it. Something he thinks you’ll hate.”
“You know, you still have the ability to surprise me,” Orli shook his head, frowning. “I thought you were the bloody clever one, the one who had his head screwed on right. So how come you think anything he could say matters? I know who you are and what you are. I also know what you were, you know that. So what the hell can he have that I’d care about? Use your bloody brain for a minute.”
“There’s obviously something,” Elijah stuck to his argument.
“’Lijah,” Orli suddenly grinned with a confidence that surprised Elijah, his attitude changed in that one moment. “Whatever he’s got, so what? And so what if your mum knows about it. So what if your mum set you up to screw the whole of the England football team as an incentive before the world cup? So what if she got you to blow Prince Charles, I don’t care. Hell, I don’t bloody care if she got you to murder some bloke, steal all his money and then fuck his wife on the dead body.”
Elijah’s mouth fell open.
“Mate,” Orli gently closed Elijah’s mouth, his thumb staying a moment to brush over his lips. “It took me long enough, but I have got the idea through my thick skull; that was then, this is now.”
Elijah stared at Orli, went to argue but stopped, stared at him some more, huffed out an enormous breath, stared again and finally shook his head. “I have not killed anyone or blown Prince Charles.”
Orli held up his hands, his grin turning infectious. “Honest, I don’t care and I really don’t want to know.”
“You’re a nutter,” Elijah folded his arms across his chest.
“So what if I am? I’m a nutter that loves the arse off you and is so bloody committed to you it’s like we’re attached at the hip. Being married has nothing on what we’ve got. If we were married we could get divorced, but us? You can’t get rid of me, no matter what. I don’t care what’s happened in your past, we’re stuck with each other. All right?”
Elijah sat open mouthed again.
“All right?” Orli demanded.
Elijah nodded, unable to stop himself. After all… Jesus, could you argue with someone when they made statements like that?
“You’re going to forget that loser pervert and whatever connection he has to your mum, all right?” This time Elijah knew he was being told rather than asked; the nod came of its own volition.
“Good man,” Orli almost, almost, almost patted Elijah on the head but even he knew that was going one step too far. “I’m not having him mess up my hard won peace and quiet. Next thing we know you’ll be too upset to go get me another beer and then what would I do?”
Elijah was just about to tell him when he saw the grin that was laced with so much affection that he couldn’t think of a thing to say. Instead, amazingly, he got up and headed for the fridge in search of alcohol.
+
Elijah tried really, really hard to do as he had been told. He tried to forget about the phone call and the slimy voice on the other end whilst they papered the walls and gave the woodwork another coat of paint. He tried not to think about it the next morning whilst Orli was in the shower and he kept inventing excuses for opening the door to get a quick peek. He tried not to think about it as he drove to the bus stop with Orli reminding him of the things he had to pick up at the supermarket after work or when Orli pecked him on the cheek before clambering out of the car.
He almost succeeded in forgetting when he was lying on the classroom floor drawing around the children’s feet so they could cut them out and order them before measuring the length and breadth of the classroom. Almost but not quite. It niggled at the back of his mind as he explained the work, found pencils, wiped away snot and firmly told George to, ‘Don’t do that.’
It niggled so much that he forgot to buy oven chips and half a dozen other things from Orli’s long list, which meant they had to have pasta again for dinner. Orli looked at him appraisingly and asked if he wanted to go to the pub. Elijah thought about it but the pub wasn’t what he wanted. He needed noise and a lot of it, somewhere that he couldn’t hear himself think. He took Orli clubbing.
The place was packed as usual, heaving sweaty bodies that pulsed and gyrated on the dance floor giving the place a smell of glorious seediness. Elijah slipped through the crowd pulling Orli firmly by the arm, his third or maybe fourth drink in the other hand. He was drinking too much, they both knew it but neither mentioned it. Even after all this time Elijah still had the unwritten rule; don’t get pissed in public unless it’s well planned and he was well protected. And the rule still had good reason.
Elijah hadn’t lost any of the dripping, aching appeal that oozed like raw sex from every pore when he let it loose. Orli watched as the alcohol burned away Elijah’s steely self control till his body seemed to scream, ‘come fuck me.’ ‘Come fuck me hard and dirty as you can.’ He knew it was going to happen, he even expected it, but he’d never got used to it. All eyes now intently followed every curve, every glimpse of skin, wanting, undressing, till the whole atmosphere heated.
Orli also knew about the crippling jealousy that seared inside him but he’d learned – no, forced himself – to just feel its force as a reminder, then turn it into something else. Something that was all about protecting Elijah: with a little bit of claiming.
He did it now, stepping into Elijah’s space, one hand reaching out to catch an elbow, and Elijah moved in closer. Hips snaking out a pattern that on anyone else would have looked only vaguely rhythmic but on Elijah, in this mood, looked positively obscene, they danced together and the floor almost opened up for them. Elijah looked up, tongue lapping out at the corner of his lips, and ran his hand round Orli’s waistband pulling him in.
“Come here,” he whispered in Orli’s ear, as he fitted himself one leg either side of Orli’s thigh and rubbed their cocks together blatantly. Orli whimpered, mortified that he’d got to that state so quickly. Elijah grinned and stroked at the small of Orli’s back, deliberately lifting Orli’s t shirt to hook it on his hip and expose a bit of flesh.
“I could hate you sometimes,” Orli hissed and tried to remember to dance.
“But you don’t,” Elijah shimmied and wriggled, his jeans settling lower on his hips, revealing a bit of flesh of his own. The eyes on them stared a bit harder. With a practised knack Elijah twisted his hand and it disappeared down the back of Orli’s baggy, low-slung combats. He kneaded the lower slope of Orli’s cheek and Orli smiled confidently at him.
For a moment Elijah seemed to concentrate on his dancing, bobbing and swaying in time to the thumping beat, whilst still managing to keep his cock in ever growing contact with Orli’s thigh. Orli marvelled at the skill. But Elijah’s hand never stilled as his fingers massaged and explored. Orli was caught in the spell, his own body following obediently in time with Elijah’s rhythm, his hand on Elijah’s shoulder. His. Elijah was his and he didn’t have to worry about that, Elijah had proved it enough so there wasn’t even a question.
Mine, you fuckers, Orli thought smugly, his eyes on all the hungry faces around them. Mine and you can’t… and then Elijah’s finger pushed inside him and Orli couldn’t think at all. Think or breathe. He caught a breath, holding it as his eyes flickered closed for a moment, and then darted a look at Elijah.
If Orli thought he’d been smug than Elijah was positively conceited. He grinned and pushed his finger a little deeper, knowing exactly what he was doing. Knowing that the entire club knew exactly what he was doing as Orli began to melt.
Elijah twisted and prodded and Orli felt the sweat run down between his shoulder blades. “That’s not fair,” he hissed.
“Don’t see why,” Elijah nipped at Orli’s neck. “Your arse is mine just like you’re mine.” He twisted his hand, his knuckle rubbing just where it should.
“You fucker,” Orli ground out between clenched teeth.
“Later,” Elijah teased, his tongue doing the provocative licking thing again. “Or you can fuck me, I don’t mind.”
“You bastard, I’ll gonna get you back for this, you wait and…”
“Oh no,” Elijah pushed in hard, a second finger trying to get in on the action. “You be quiet, you’re in no position to argue.” He rubbed knowingly and Orli arched, his back trying to pull away, his more needy arse pushing back.
Elijah circled round behind a still swaying Orli and stood at an angle, making sure he could move his wrist and, almost as important, everyone would think they could see the action. Orli’s t shirt had slid back down so there was barely a scrap of skin showing, it was just the ridges and planes of Elijah’s moving hand, clearly visible under the thin cotton, which was causing all the reaction.
And it was a reaction. Eyes were now torn between Elijah and Orli. Some watched as Orli fought futilely to keep his face calm and unaffected, others his heaving chest, more still the hard, hard ridge of his cock as it pressed against his zip. When Orli flung his head back and groaned as Elijah nipped at his throat and then licked over the spot, pink tongue savouring and lapping, all eyes went to his bobbing Adam’s apple. He exhaled in long laboured breaths, which could almost be heard over the pumping music, and he leant back against Elijah’s chest.
“I hate you,” he twisted his head round trying to see as Elijah rested his chin in the crook of Orli’s neck, still licking at his skin.
“No you don’t.”
“Trust me I do,” he only just managed the last word as Elijah suddenly pushed right in and then the finger was gone. Orli made a disjointed sound, probably of disappointment, maybe just displeasure.
“You don’t,” Elijah’s hand quickly inched its way round under Orli’s boxers, over his sharp hip bones till he caught hold of his hard, hot cock. “You love me,” Elijah squeezed, Orli bucked forward into the pressure and every eye in the place settled on the newly formed wet patch at the front of his pale cream trousers.
“Bastard.”
“But you love me,” Elijah’s voice was full of confidence and laughter. He squeezed again, setting up a fast and furious pace that had Orli’s hips shaking and his face flushing. “Say you love me,” Elijah demanded as he gripped the head, his thumb pushing just hard enough into the slit.
“I fucking hate you.”
“Say it,” Elijah braced himself and took most of the weight as Orli flopped against him, his hand moving quicker still.
“No.” Orli counted backward from a hundred, thought about his father naked and tried to focus on where he was.
“Say it,” Elijah hit his stride, magnificently timing the thumb swipes at the slit and the tight squeezes at the root whilst just managing to get his little finger to poke at Orli’s balls. Just the way Orli liked: just the thing to make him come undone. “You know you’ve got no choice, you’re going to say it.” He ran his other hand up under Orli’s t shirt to pinch at a peaked nipple and licked around Orli’s ear.
Orli groaned, long and loud, and twisted round inside Elijah’s arms, forcing his hands away. “Fucking bastard wanker.” He tangled his arms around Elijah’s neck, burying his hands deep in the mop of dark hair and pulled hard before kissing Elijah full throttle. “I absolutely bloody adore you,” he said when he could stand to pull his lips a millimetre away from Elijah’s. “I love you so much you’re turning me into a drippy girl.”
“I hope not, I like your arse too much,” Elijah leaned in for another soul searing kiss. “And your cock.” Orli ground the cock in question against Elijah’s hip. “Want me to take you home and sort that out?”
Orli mumbled his agreement but didn’t let go. Elijah kissed him again, holding the back of Orli’s waistband and pressing back with just as much force against each of Orli’s thrusts.
“You’re going to have to let go if we going to make it out of here,” Elijah laughed. “Home?”
“I’m not going to make it home,” Orli whined, high and needy. “Look at the state of me.”
This time Elijah laughed out loud. He rubbed over Orli’s cock one last time then grabbed his hand and pulled him back through the crowd in a reversal of their entrance. Only this time as the crowd opened appreciatively for them, most eyes were on Orli. Although there was more than one fantasy stored away for later of the two of them naked and writhing all over each other.
They made it back to the car and Orli dutifully climbed behind the steering wheel as Elijah had had more than one drink. He moaned endlessly as the angle made his trousers cut painfully into his erection and adjusted the seat and his clothes continually. Elijah took pity on him after a few minutes and they pulled into a dark alley where Elijah sucked him off, by the light from a security lamp outside the back door of a laundrette.
Orli gave up struggling to position his long legs round the steering wheel, lay back, his fingers gently stroking the back of Elijah’s neck, and wondered who’d said romance was dead.
Afterwards they shared the can of coke they found in the glove compartment and smiled stupidly at each other. “You weren’t really that drunk, were you?” Orli asked, knowing the answer.
“Nah, not really,” Elijah had the grace to look a little sheepish. “I just needed to let my hair down for a bit and get all the bloody attention off me. You’re a wonderful distraction.”
“Thanks,” Orli huffed a laugh. “You okay?”
Elijah thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, but…”
“Go on,” Orli prompted.
Elijah sighed and turned to face Orli. “I have to find out what’s going on and it looks like mum knows. I want to go and see her.”
Orli reached over and kneaded Elijah’s shoulders. “Okay, it’s Saturday tomorrow, we can drive up in the morning.”
“Are you sure you want to come?” Elijah asked, ridiculously pleased at Orli’s response, hoping for the right answer.
“’Lijah,” Orli gave an ironic smile. “Even if you told me not to come, I’ll be there. We do this just like we do everything else: together.”
Elijah smiled, small and tight, and rested his head against Orli’s shoulder. “Let’s go home, I want to go to bed. With you.”
+
Elijah slept easy that night, relief coming with the decision to do something. He could ignore things with the best of people but he preferred to be in control. Much preferred it. They set off early, arguing easily on the way out of London about which motorway to take.
On the M40 Orli drove whilst Elijah fiddled with the radio. After a stop at a service station Elijah took over driving, wanting something to occupy his mind. A couple of hours later they pulled up outside the multi-storey, council block of flats in which Silvia lived. Same mix of beaten up and dumped cars, same rubbish spewed everywhere, same bald patches of earth in the few spaces where there should have been grass. Elijah smiled, it wasn’t so bad.
Silvia was expecting them and the door was left wide open, seventies bad disco music pouring out into the hallway. Elijah banged on the door anyway, calling out to his mum as they made their way inside. Orli wrinkled up his nose at the gaudy colours, piles of junk and general mess. Couldn’t the woman spare anytime for cleaning?
She was sitting in front of the television watching horse racing, hunched forward shouting at the screen. “Hello mum,” Elijah touched her arm.
“Hi love,” her attention didn’t waver. “Hold on a second, I’ve got ten quid on that horse; King’s Ransom. The one kitted out in the blue and red stripes.”
They stood still and waited while the race was completed. Inevitably Silvia lost but she didn’t seem too bothered, raising her eyes to heaven and muttering something about always picking worthless losers. She got up and ruffled Elijah’s hair in an awkward, slightly self-conscious gesture. “You going to put the kettle on or do you want something a bit stronger?”
“Tea will do,” Elijah said, heading out to the kitchen. “We stopped off at the bakers for some rolls and cakes.”
“What did you get?” she called after him, her voice eager.
“Custard tarts of course,” Elijah laughed, turning off the radio. He knew his mother well.
Silvia turned back and her face fell. “Orli,” she begrudgingly said his name.
“Silvia,” Orli was every bit as begrudging. They stood eyeing each other for a few moments, like two suspicious dogs checking out a potential rival.
“You’d better be taking good care of him,” Silvia said aggressively. “I don’t want him hurt again.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” Orli started but he didn’t get any further.
“Now, now children,” Elijah said in his best teacher’s voice. “No fighting in the classroom.” He took the bakery bag from Orli’s hand and pushed him gently in the direction of a chair. “Be nice,” he looked sternly at them both, but couldn’t keep it up and laughed out loud. “My God, you’re worse than the kids at school.”
Orli pulled a face at Elijah’s retreating back. Then he sat back and looked at Silvia in the chair opposite. Nope, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face being nice to her, not right then. He followed Elijah.
Orli and Silvia had come to an uneasy truce over the years. They didn’t like each other, had nothing good to say about the other, but recognised the other’s importance to Elijah. They even respected that enough to – not exactly get along, but at least not to fight. Well, at least not openly in front of Elijah.
Ten minutes later they came back in with mugs of tea and plates piled high with filled rolls and cakes. “This is nice,” Silvia made an effort, although half her attention was still on the racing on the tele.
They ate in a comfortable silence that gave Elijah a chance to look at his mum. The years hadn’t been kind to Silvia. Her hair looked brittle, whispy and over processed, her body so thin that her bones stuck out unattractively, her face deeply lined in that way of heavy smokers. But, Elijah suddenly realised, she seemed more at ease with herself. Something was different and it took him a while to work out what it was.
Finally he got it; at last she seemed to have accepted that she was growing old. Her clothes weren’t quite so mutton-dressed-up-as-lamb, instead more practical and comfortable, her make up not quite so thick. The heels of the innumerable pairs of shoes stacked out in the hall weren’t quite so ridiculously high, hell she even had slippers on now. But it was more than all that, she seemed satisfied to sit back and watch her favourite sport whilst eating her favourite cake. She wasn’t fighting the world anymore, she was at ease with her self.
He hoped he wasn’t going to spoil things for her.
Eventually the racing finished and Elijah sat forward. “Mum, can we talk for a bit please?” he asked. Reluctantly, one eye on the Gregory Peck film that was just starting, Silvia turned the television off.
“What’s the matter?” she looked at Orli suspiciously. “What’s he done this time?”
Elijah couldn’t help but smile, even now, as far as Silvia and Orli were concerned, everything was always the other one’s fault. “Nothing, he hasn’t done anything,” he almost reached out to pat her knee.
“Well neither have I,” she said indignantly.
“I’m sure you haven’t,” he slipped the uneaten half of his custard tart onto her plate. “I never thought you had.”
“So, what’s the matter then?” she asked. “You’re always too busy working on that new flat of yours to come and see me.” The words were harsh but Elijah knew it was only a habit, there was no resentment.
He took a breath ready to explain, only now he didn’t know how to start. Then Orli’s hand was warm on the small of his back and he was sure again. “There’s a man who’s rung us up a couple of times, he’s demanding money, a lot of money.”
“What for?” she looked from one to the other. “What’s his game?”
Elijah took another deep breath and Orli’s hand rubbed a tight, reassuring circle on his flesh. “Blackmail. He’s trying to blackmail me.”
“Over what?” she demanded, and Elijah could see her anger start to rise. “My son’s never done anything he could be blackmailed for.” Orli wondered who she was talking to, but it didn’t matter. Her indignation and rage were good enough for him.
“He sent some photographs,” Elijah went on. “Of me and him,” he hesitated for a moment, God knows why. She knew exactly what he used to do, hell, she’d taught him to do it. “Of me and him fucking, when I was really young.”
Her face froze for a moment, contorting into an odd grimace. She knew all right, she’d known what he did and when he’d started doing it but, oddly, she’d never quite brought herself to think about the details. Then she made a conscious effort to put that out of her mind. “That was bleeding stupid of you, letting someone take pictures. I told you never to leave any evidence.”
Orli snorted in incredulity, the bloody woman, how could she? But Elijah was already speaking. “I didn’t know he took them, I did listen to you and I do have some sense.”
“Well,” she blustered. “So you should. What’s he want then? Who’s he threatening you with?” Suddenly she turned on Orli, staring angrily. “Has he got you running scared? I always knew you’d turn tail at the first bloody sight of trouble, you’re not good enough for him and you should…”
“Mum,” Elijah tried gently at first, then he shouted loud enough to stop her in her tracks. “Mum!” Silvia looked back at her son, mouth still open ready to argue. “I showed Orli the photos as soon as I got them and he’s okay with them.” He gave Orli a soft smile. “Maybe not okay, but he’s handled them and he’s right here with me. We’re doing fine.”
Orli fingers pressed firmly on Elijah’s back. For once he agreed with Silvia, he wasn’t good enough for Elijah. No one was. Silvia gave him a meagre smile.
“This bloke is threatening to show them around, he even said he show them to my head teacher, unless I give him money,” Elijah continued.
“I hope you told him to fuck off?” Silvia questioned. “You haven’t done anything illegal.” She started picking at the extra bit of custard tart on her plate as though the potentially nasty situation was over.
“Of course I did,” Elijah’s back was still rigid with tension. “Now he’s demanding double and when I said why, he told me to ask you.”
“Me?” Silvia stopped, a piece of tart half way to her mouth. “What’s it got to do with me?”
“That’s what we want to know,” Orli said ominously.
Again she looked from one to the other. “I don’t know nothing about it. How am I meant to bloody know anything? You did loads of people.”
“But you sent him to me,” Elijah said softly.
“Did I?” Silvia didn’t seem bothered by the thought, just perplexed. “How do you know?”
“I only vaguely remember him, he was waiting outside the school gates for me, he said you’d sent him.”
Again she didn’t seem to care, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head. “I don’t know, come on, you have to admit there were a lot of blokes.”
“I know,” Elijah agreed. “But this one has come back and he said to ask you.”
She shrugged again. “Sorry love,” she admitted defeat. “I don’t know who he is.”
“Hang on, I’ll get the pictures. When you see him you should remember,” Elijah reached for the bag by Orli’s chair.
“No!” Silvia almost shouted, a kind of panic in her voice. She knew what Elijah did, oh yes she knew, but by hell she couldn’t face seeing it. “I don’t want to look at a pile of mucky bleeding pictures.”
“But they’re of Elijah and you sent the man,” Orli said, his resentment burning. They were meant to be getting on better but sometimes he’d like to wrap his hands round her scrawny neck and just squeeze.
“Oh shut up,” Silvia dismissed him. “What do you know about anything?”
Orli opened his mouth ready to tell her just what he did know but Elijah forestalled him. “I need to know who this bloke is mum, and what he thinks he’s got on me.”
“I ain’t looking at the photos,” Silvia folded her arms over her scraggy chest and Elijah’s face closed over his annoyance. “All right,” she gave in. “You can tell me what he looked like.”
Elijah accepted what he could get and closed the bag back up. “He was white, about forty, I should think, close cropped dark hair, blue eyes, a lot of muscles and no fat.”
Silvia shrugged again. “That could be anyone of a hundred blokes I’ve met, I didn’t know half their names even if I knew the size of their cocks.” She gave a ridiculous little giggle, more suitable for someone a quarter of her age.
“Name,” Elijah repeated the word. “What was his name Orlando? He said it on the phone, something beginning with L. Lee? Lance?”
“Len,” Orli said, not having to think about it. That name was burned into his brain. “He said to tell your mum Lenny’s back.”
In that instant Silvia’s face froze, then it turned a deathly grey white, her skin pulling tight in a way no facelift could manage, her cheek bones standing out as her lips thinned and her eyes widened. Orli stared in startled fascination, mouth opening but it was Elijah that spoke. “Mum? What is it? Who is he?”
Silvia’s hand went up to cover her face but it wasn’t enough, she got up and turned away from them. “Nothing, it’s fucking nothing. You come up here bringing me all your bloody problems, how am I meant to know anything? I don’t bloody know, I don’t bloody care.”
“Mum,” Elijah caught her arm, pulling her back as she headed for the door. “Come on, you obviously know something.”
“I don’t!” she all but shrieked, and then they saw her face again. Pure terror. Orli had never seen such fear on another person’s face, not in real life. Silvia was terrified.
What on earth had this Len done to her in the past?
“I don’t know nothing,” she stated with finality, pushing Elijah’s hand away.
“Fine, I’ll ask him next time he rings,” Elijah shot back at her.
Her face changed again and this time Orli wasn’t so sure what it was at first. The out and out terror was still there but there was something else. She looked frantically at Orli then back at Elijah, a myriad of emotions in her eyes. “Love,” she almost whispered, reaching out to half pat, half rub at Elijah’s shoulder. And Orli suddenly knew what it was; concern. Silvia was actually concerned about her son. As far as Orli knew, that was a first.
“Stay away from him, he’s nothing but trouble. Stay away,” her voice rose, the fear thick in every word.
“I’ve never been near him,” Elijah said reasonably. “At least not in the last ten years. Who is he?”
“Trouble. You have to get away from him.”
“I have no intention of going near him,” Elijah said and Silvia seemed to calm a little. “But I can’t stop him ringing me, he obviously has my number and certainly knows where I live.”
“No.” Panic this time, pure panic on Silvia’s face. “You have to get away, hide somewhere he can’t find you.”
“Oh don’t be daft,” Elijah snorted. “I’m not hiding, I’ve got work on Monday.”
“You have to, you can’t go home, not now. You’ll have to start again somewhere else.”
“But Orli’s got work as well.”
“But you have to,” she cried. “Tell him,” she appealed to Orli. Another first. “You have to keep him safe, tell him he can’t go back home, that you’ll take him somewhere else and keep him safe. Right now, today.”
“Of course I’ll keep him safe,” Orli stood, moving closer to Elijah. “But what’s the panic?”
“Him. You have to get away from… him.” She couldn’t make herself say the man’s name.
“Mum,” Elijah said calmly. “We’ve got no money with us, our home and our jobs are in London along with all our stuff. How can we not go back?”
“But,” Silvia’s hand fussed up around Elijah again and then she turned, crossing the room and rummaging in an old sideboard. Papers, packs of playing cards, old packets and a load of other junk was flung to the floor as she searched frantically for something. Then a victory cry of, ‘Yes,’ and she was back, a bank book pushed towards them.
“Here, take this. I’ve never managed to save much but it’s all I got, it’s what I’ve put by in case I can’t find a man to help me out when I get really old.”
Elijah took the book, stunned. “You’re giving me your savings?” he asked incredulously.
“Yeah, as long as you use them to get away.”
“For fuck’s sake why?” Elijah demanded. “I’ve never seen you scared of anyone, you just give them a mouthful of abuse, smash something up and kick them in the balls before walking all over them. Who the hell is this guy?”
“I…” Silvia stuttered. “But… He’s trouble, all right, he’s trouble.”
“No mum,” Elijah folded his arms. “I need more than that.”
She changed again, anger covering the fear. “Fucking shit Elijah, just do as you’re told.”
“I’m not ten anymore.”
“But you’ll still do what I tell you.”
“I don’t even do what Orli tells me half the time, you’ve got no chance.”
“You fucking little bastard,” she screamed at him. “Just do what I tell you and get away from him.”
“Why?” Elijah asked evenly.
Her hand shot out but it was Orli she connected with, not Elijah. She opened her fist at the last moment and slapped at his arm. “What are you, some useless piece of shit? Do something, fucking make him get away. Drag him by his bloody hair.”
“I’ve never been able to make him do anything he doesn’t want to,” Orli admitted regretfully. For once he felt himself agreeing with Silvia. He had no idea who this man was but anyone that could cause that level of fear was worth staying away from.
“Bloody useless,” Silvia turned back to Elijah. “Please, for me? Do it for your mum.”
The sight of his mother pleading, almost begging, took Elijah’s breath away. Never had she pleaded with him for anything; she demanded or more likely just told.
“Who is he mum?” he asked softly.
“I…” Silvia turned her back on them again. Elijah caught hold of her and gently stroked the over-washed folds of her cardigan.
“Mum?”
She faced him, her hand reaching out to pat his cheek, something Orli had never seen happen before. Another first and then another. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. “He’s your father love. Len’s your father.”
+
Chapter: Four
Author: Arabia
Pairing: Elijah/Orli
Rating N17
Disclaimer: Total fiction
Feedback: Is always very much appreciated.
This is NOT a WIP – it is all finished and will be posted once a week.
The first four stories can be found in my memories.
Thank you to my darling otp
grievous_angel for the wonderful beta and all the support, and to annwyn55 for making the beautiful icon that goes with the fic.This story is for Pum. She knows why and it is perfect.
Us Against The World
Chapter Four
By Thursday Orli had almost forgotten about the photographs that still sat, where they had been thrust, at the back of the kitchen drawer. He managed to blank from his mind the voice of the man on the telephone and the threats he’d uttered. Elijah wasn’t so sure but he knew it didn’t matter, if Orli wasn’t going to freak over it then who cared?
When the phone call came that evening, as they were flopped out over the sofa, his head in Orli’s lap, Elijah wasn’t surprised, just resigned. He reached over Orli, elbow in his crotch, for the spare phone as soon as he heard the voice say his name on the other end. There was no way he was going to talk to this man without Orli hearing every word, every nuance, every hiss.
“Why don’t you just piss off,” Elijah said in a bored, disinterested voice when Orli had the phone held firmly at his ear. He swung round and sat up, pressing himself against Orli’s side and hooking a leg over his lap. Orli pulled the leg in tighter, one hand on Elijah’s thigh, the other on the phone.
“Because I want my money,” the man said. “And I want it now.”
“Listen you fucker,” Elijah said, but there was no heat in the curse, more a tedious acceptance of a distasteful job that had to be done. “You were bloody lucky to have me, you aren’t getting anything else, not my time and not a penny of my money.”
“You owe me,” the man hissed.
“I don’t even know you,” Elijah exclaimed but the passion was soon spent. “I don’t care about you, you have nothing to do with me and you can’t hurt me. So just crawl back under whatever putrid stone you came out of and leave me in peace.”
“You owe me everything,” and the way the man said it made Elijah sit up a little further. There was an undertow, nasty, twisted and evil. And something else.
“Stay away from us,” Elijah said, his voice firm. “You have nothing on me.”
“Don’t I?”
Elijah felt something still inside him, cold and hard. “What? What are you threatening me with time? Some other piece of crap.”
“Not crap, something not even you would want let out.”
“What?” Elijah demanded.
“Just give me my money and I’ll leave you alone, no one would have to know.”
“What?”
“Even lover boy couldn’t take this.”
Elijah’s eyes darted to Orli and there was a breath of a question at the back of them. Orli had to dispel it. “Fuck off you loser, there’s nothing that’d bother me about him.” Orli said, his voice sounding calmer than he expected.
For a moment the man was confused and all they could here was his breathing. “But you don’t know what…”
“Can’t you hear properly?” Orli snarled. “I don’t give a shit about anything you could say.”
“You’ll be sorry, he’ll be sorry…”
Elijah interrupted this time. “You have nothing, you are nothing.”
“You fucking…” There was a sharp intake of breath and then the man spoke again. “Ask your mum. Ask that old whore what I’ve got and then you can give me the money, only by then the price will have doubled.”
“Mum…?” Elijah’s voice lost the hard tone. “What’s she got to do with anything?”
“You ask her, you ask her about me.”
“You’re just some bastard I did, you’ve got nothing to do with her or me,” but Elijah remembered the man had implied that his mum had sent him. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“Len,” his voice was harder and more menacing than ever. “You tell that bitch Lenny’s back and he wants his money. Six grand. I’ll be in touch.” And then the line went dead.
Elijah held the phone out in front of him, gazing at it as if it could answer his questions. Orli took it from his hand and switched it off, placing it carefully back in its cradle. He looked at Elijah and raised his eyebrows in a rueful smile. “Well, I guess we know he isn’t gone.”
“The slimeball,” Elijah shook his head. “He just pops up after all this time and threatens me with crap and then tries to drag my mum into it. What kind of bastard is he?”
“A slimeball bastard?” Orli ventured.
The twist on words was lost on Elijah. “I thought I was done with dickheads like him, thought I was done with dealing with all that shit but it’s being stirred up again. How fucking dare he come back and do that. Did he really think I’d remember him? That he’d even raise a blip on my radar?”
“Maybe he thought he was a,” Orli searched round for a good word. “Memorable fuck.”
“Yeah right,” Elijah snorted. “They were all the same; a big fat nothing and all lousy fucks. But now what? Now I have to go cap in hand asking my mum?” Elijah shook his head. “Bastard, bastard, bastard.”
“What have you got to talk to your mum for?” Orli demanded, resentment and anger suddenly flaring. “Don’t give the tosser the satisfaction of wasting your time on him.”
“But what if…”
“What? What can either of them possibly say that would matter?”
“I don’t know but he obviously thinks he has something.” Elijah pressed his lips together hard and ran a hand over his face and up through his hair. “I hate that things are stirred up again, that our peace is being affected.”
“Christ, it’s only affected if you let it,” Orli stated.
“Oh come on, he thinks he has something on me and I’m guessing he’s prepared to use it. Something he thinks you’ll hate.”
“You know, you still have the ability to surprise me,” Orli shook his head, frowning. “I thought you were the bloody clever one, the one who had his head screwed on right. So how come you think anything he could say matters? I know who you are and what you are. I also know what you were, you know that. So what the hell can he have that I’d care about? Use your bloody brain for a minute.”
“There’s obviously something,” Elijah stuck to his argument.
“’Lijah,” Orli suddenly grinned with a confidence that surprised Elijah, his attitude changed in that one moment. “Whatever he’s got, so what? And so what if your mum knows about it. So what if your mum set you up to screw the whole of the England football team as an incentive before the world cup? So what if she got you to blow Prince Charles, I don’t care. Hell, I don’t bloody care if she got you to murder some bloke, steal all his money and then fuck his wife on the dead body.”
Elijah’s mouth fell open.
“Mate,” Orli gently closed Elijah’s mouth, his thumb staying a moment to brush over his lips. “It took me long enough, but I have got the idea through my thick skull; that was then, this is now.”
Elijah stared at Orli, went to argue but stopped, stared at him some more, huffed out an enormous breath, stared again and finally shook his head. “I have not killed anyone or blown Prince Charles.”
Orli held up his hands, his grin turning infectious. “Honest, I don’t care and I really don’t want to know.”
“You’re a nutter,” Elijah folded his arms across his chest.
“So what if I am? I’m a nutter that loves the arse off you and is so bloody committed to you it’s like we’re attached at the hip. Being married has nothing on what we’ve got. If we were married we could get divorced, but us? You can’t get rid of me, no matter what. I don’t care what’s happened in your past, we’re stuck with each other. All right?”
Elijah sat open mouthed again.
“All right?” Orli demanded.
Elijah nodded, unable to stop himself. After all… Jesus, could you argue with someone when they made statements like that?
“You’re going to forget that loser pervert and whatever connection he has to your mum, all right?” This time Elijah knew he was being told rather than asked; the nod came of its own volition.
“Good man,” Orli almost, almost, almost patted Elijah on the head but even he knew that was going one step too far. “I’m not having him mess up my hard won peace and quiet. Next thing we know you’ll be too upset to go get me another beer and then what would I do?”
Elijah was just about to tell him when he saw the grin that was laced with so much affection that he couldn’t think of a thing to say. Instead, amazingly, he got up and headed for the fridge in search of alcohol.
+
Elijah tried really, really hard to do as he had been told. He tried to forget about the phone call and the slimy voice on the other end whilst they papered the walls and gave the woodwork another coat of paint. He tried not to think about it the next morning whilst Orli was in the shower and he kept inventing excuses for opening the door to get a quick peek. He tried not to think about it as he drove to the bus stop with Orli reminding him of the things he had to pick up at the supermarket after work or when Orli pecked him on the cheek before clambering out of the car.
He almost succeeded in forgetting when he was lying on the classroom floor drawing around the children’s feet so they could cut them out and order them before measuring the length and breadth of the classroom. Almost but not quite. It niggled at the back of his mind as he explained the work, found pencils, wiped away snot and firmly told George to, ‘Don’t do that.’
It niggled so much that he forgot to buy oven chips and half a dozen other things from Orli’s long list, which meant they had to have pasta again for dinner. Orli looked at him appraisingly and asked if he wanted to go to the pub. Elijah thought about it but the pub wasn’t what he wanted. He needed noise and a lot of it, somewhere that he couldn’t hear himself think. He took Orli clubbing.
The place was packed as usual, heaving sweaty bodies that pulsed and gyrated on the dance floor giving the place a smell of glorious seediness. Elijah slipped through the crowd pulling Orli firmly by the arm, his third or maybe fourth drink in the other hand. He was drinking too much, they both knew it but neither mentioned it. Even after all this time Elijah still had the unwritten rule; don’t get pissed in public unless it’s well planned and he was well protected. And the rule still had good reason.
Elijah hadn’t lost any of the dripping, aching appeal that oozed like raw sex from every pore when he let it loose. Orli watched as the alcohol burned away Elijah’s steely self control till his body seemed to scream, ‘come fuck me.’ ‘Come fuck me hard and dirty as you can.’ He knew it was going to happen, he even expected it, but he’d never got used to it. All eyes now intently followed every curve, every glimpse of skin, wanting, undressing, till the whole atmosphere heated.
Orli also knew about the crippling jealousy that seared inside him but he’d learned – no, forced himself – to just feel its force as a reminder, then turn it into something else. Something that was all about protecting Elijah: with a little bit of claiming.
He did it now, stepping into Elijah’s space, one hand reaching out to catch an elbow, and Elijah moved in closer. Hips snaking out a pattern that on anyone else would have looked only vaguely rhythmic but on Elijah, in this mood, looked positively obscene, they danced together and the floor almost opened up for them. Elijah looked up, tongue lapping out at the corner of his lips, and ran his hand round Orli’s waistband pulling him in.
“Come here,” he whispered in Orli’s ear, as he fitted himself one leg either side of Orli’s thigh and rubbed their cocks together blatantly. Orli whimpered, mortified that he’d got to that state so quickly. Elijah grinned and stroked at the small of Orli’s back, deliberately lifting Orli’s t shirt to hook it on his hip and expose a bit of flesh.
“I could hate you sometimes,” Orli hissed and tried to remember to dance.
“But you don’t,” Elijah shimmied and wriggled, his jeans settling lower on his hips, revealing a bit of flesh of his own. The eyes on them stared a bit harder. With a practised knack Elijah twisted his hand and it disappeared down the back of Orli’s baggy, low-slung combats. He kneaded the lower slope of Orli’s cheek and Orli smiled confidently at him.
For a moment Elijah seemed to concentrate on his dancing, bobbing and swaying in time to the thumping beat, whilst still managing to keep his cock in ever growing contact with Orli’s thigh. Orli marvelled at the skill. But Elijah’s hand never stilled as his fingers massaged and explored. Orli was caught in the spell, his own body following obediently in time with Elijah’s rhythm, his hand on Elijah’s shoulder. His. Elijah was his and he didn’t have to worry about that, Elijah had proved it enough so there wasn’t even a question.
Mine, you fuckers, Orli thought smugly, his eyes on all the hungry faces around them. Mine and you can’t… and then Elijah’s finger pushed inside him and Orli couldn’t think at all. Think or breathe. He caught a breath, holding it as his eyes flickered closed for a moment, and then darted a look at Elijah.
If Orli thought he’d been smug than Elijah was positively conceited. He grinned and pushed his finger a little deeper, knowing exactly what he was doing. Knowing that the entire club knew exactly what he was doing as Orli began to melt.
Elijah twisted and prodded and Orli felt the sweat run down between his shoulder blades. “That’s not fair,” he hissed.
“Don’t see why,” Elijah nipped at Orli’s neck. “Your arse is mine just like you’re mine.” He twisted his hand, his knuckle rubbing just where it should.
“You fucker,” Orli ground out between clenched teeth.
“Later,” Elijah teased, his tongue doing the provocative licking thing again. “Or you can fuck me, I don’t mind.”
“You bastard, I’ll gonna get you back for this, you wait and…”
“Oh no,” Elijah pushed in hard, a second finger trying to get in on the action. “You be quiet, you’re in no position to argue.” He rubbed knowingly and Orli arched, his back trying to pull away, his more needy arse pushing back.
Elijah circled round behind a still swaying Orli and stood at an angle, making sure he could move his wrist and, almost as important, everyone would think they could see the action. Orli’s t shirt had slid back down so there was barely a scrap of skin showing, it was just the ridges and planes of Elijah’s moving hand, clearly visible under the thin cotton, which was causing all the reaction.
And it was a reaction. Eyes were now torn between Elijah and Orli. Some watched as Orli fought futilely to keep his face calm and unaffected, others his heaving chest, more still the hard, hard ridge of his cock as it pressed against his zip. When Orli flung his head back and groaned as Elijah nipped at his throat and then licked over the spot, pink tongue savouring and lapping, all eyes went to his bobbing Adam’s apple. He exhaled in long laboured breaths, which could almost be heard over the pumping music, and he leant back against Elijah’s chest.
“I hate you,” he twisted his head round trying to see as Elijah rested his chin in the crook of Orli’s neck, still licking at his skin.
“No you don’t.”
“Trust me I do,” he only just managed the last word as Elijah suddenly pushed right in and then the finger was gone. Orli made a disjointed sound, probably of disappointment, maybe just displeasure.
“You don’t,” Elijah’s hand quickly inched its way round under Orli’s boxers, over his sharp hip bones till he caught hold of his hard, hot cock. “You love me,” Elijah squeezed, Orli bucked forward into the pressure and every eye in the place settled on the newly formed wet patch at the front of his pale cream trousers.
“Bastard.”
“But you love me,” Elijah’s voice was full of confidence and laughter. He squeezed again, setting up a fast and furious pace that had Orli’s hips shaking and his face flushing. “Say you love me,” Elijah demanded as he gripped the head, his thumb pushing just hard enough into the slit.
“I fucking hate you.”
“Say it,” Elijah braced himself and took most of the weight as Orli flopped against him, his hand moving quicker still.
“No.” Orli counted backward from a hundred, thought about his father naked and tried to focus on where he was.
“Say it,” Elijah hit his stride, magnificently timing the thumb swipes at the slit and the tight squeezes at the root whilst just managing to get his little finger to poke at Orli’s balls. Just the way Orli liked: just the thing to make him come undone. “You know you’ve got no choice, you’re going to say it.” He ran his other hand up under Orli’s t shirt to pinch at a peaked nipple and licked around Orli’s ear.
Orli groaned, long and loud, and twisted round inside Elijah’s arms, forcing his hands away. “Fucking bastard wanker.” He tangled his arms around Elijah’s neck, burying his hands deep in the mop of dark hair and pulled hard before kissing Elijah full throttle. “I absolutely bloody adore you,” he said when he could stand to pull his lips a millimetre away from Elijah’s. “I love you so much you’re turning me into a drippy girl.”
“I hope not, I like your arse too much,” Elijah leaned in for another soul searing kiss. “And your cock.” Orli ground the cock in question against Elijah’s hip. “Want me to take you home and sort that out?”
Orli mumbled his agreement but didn’t let go. Elijah kissed him again, holding the back of Orli’s waistband and pressing back with just as much force against each of Orli’s thrusts.
“You’re going to have to let go if we going to make it out of here,” Elijah laughed. “Home?”
“I’m not going to make it home,” Orli whined, high and needy. “Look at the state of me.”
This time Elijah laughed out loud. He rubbed over Orli’s cock one last time then grabbed his hand and pulled him back through the crowd in a reversal of their entrance. Only this time as the crowd opened appreciatively for them, most eyes were on Orli. Although there was more than one fantasy stored away for later of the two of them naked and writhing all over each other.
They made it back to the car and Orli dutifully climbed behind the steering wheel as Elijah had had more than one drink. He moaned endlessly as the angle made his trousers cut painfully into his erection and adjusted the seat and his clothes continually. Elijah took pity on him after a few minutes and they pulled into a dark alley where Elijah sucked him off, by the light from a security lamp outside the back door of a laundrette.
Orli gave up struggling to position his long legs round the steering wheel, lay back, his fingers gently stroking the back of Elijah’s neck, and wondered who’d said romance was dead.
Afterwards they shared the can of coke they found in the glove compartment and smiled stupidly at each other. “You weren’t really that drunk, were you?” Orli asked, knowing the answer.
“Nah, not really,” Elijah had the grace to look a little sheepish. “I just needed to let my hair down for a bit and get all the bloody attention off me. You’re a wonderful distraction.”
“Thanks,” Orli huffed a laugh. “You okay?”
Elijah thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, but…”
“Go on,” Orli prompted.
Elijah sighed and turned to face Orli. “I have to find out what’s going on and it looks like mum knows. I want to go and see her.”
Orli reached over and kneaded Elijah’s shoulders. “Okay, it’s Saturday tomorrow, we can drive up in the morning.”
“Are you sure you want to come?” Elijah asked, ridiculously pleased at Orli’s response, hoping for the right answer.
“’Lijah,” Orli gave an ironic smile. “Even if you told me not to come, I’ll be there. We do this just like we do everything else: together.”
Elijah smiled, small and tight, and rested his head against Orli’s shoulder. “Let’s go home, I want to go to bed. With you.”
+
Elijah slept easy that night, relief coming with the decision to do something. He could ignore things with the best of people but he preferred to be in control. Much preferred it. They set off early, arguing easily on the way out of London about which motorway to take.
On the M40 Orli drove whilst Elijah fiddled with the radio. After a stop at a service station Elijah took over driving, wanting something to occupy his mind. A couple of hours later they pulled up outside the multi-storey, council block of flats in which Silvia lived. Same mix of beaten up and dumped cars, same rubbish spewed everywhere, same bald patches of earth in the few spaces where there should have been grass. Elijah smiled, it wasn’t so bad.
Silvia was expecting them and the door was left wide open, seventies bad disco music pouring out into the hallway. Elijah banged on the door anyway, calling out to his mum as they made their way inside. Orli wrinkled up his nose at the gaudy colours, piles of junk and general mess. Couldn’t the woman spare anytime for cleaning?
She was sitting in front of the television watching horse racing, hunched forward shouting at the screen. “Hello mum,” Elijah touched her arm.
“Hi love,” her attention didn’t waver. “Hold on a second, I’ve got ten quid on that horse; King’s Ransom. The one kitted out in the blue and red stripes.”
They stood still and waited while the race was completed. Inevitably Silvia lost but she didn’t seem too bothered, raising her eyes to heaven and muttering something about always picking worthless losers. She got up and ruffled Elijah’s hair in an awkward, slightly self-conscious gesture. “You going to put the kettle on or do you want something a bit stronger?”
“Tea will do,” Elijah said, heading out to the kitchen. “We stopped off at the bakers for some rolls and cakes.”
“What did you get?” she called after him, her voice eager.
“Custard tarts of course,” Elijah laughed, turning off the radio. He knew his mother well.
Silvia turned back and her face fell. “Orli,” she begrudgingly said his name.
“Silvia,” Orli was every bit as begrudging. They stood eyeing each other for a few moments, like two suspicious dogs checking out a potential rival.
“You’d better be taking good care of him,” Silvia said aggressively. “I don’t want him hurt again.”
“You’re a fine one to talk,” Orli started but he didn’t get any further.
“Now, now children,” Elijah said in his best teacher’s voice. “No fighting in the classroom.” He took the bakery bag from Orli’s hand and pushed him gently in the direction of a chair. “Be nice,” he looked sternly at them both, but couldn’t keep it up and laughed out loud. “My God, you’re worse than the kids at school.”
Orli pulled a face at Elijah’s retreating back. Then he sat back and looked at Silvia in the chair opposite. Nope, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face being nice to her, not right then. He followed Elijah.
Orli and Silvia had come to an uneasy truce over the years. They didn’t like each other, had nothing good to say about the other, but recognised the other’s importance to Elijah. They even respected that enough to – not exactly get along, but at least not to fight. Well, at least not openly in front of Elijah.
Ten minutes later they came back in with mugs of tea and plates piled high with filled rolls and cakes. “This is nice,” Silvia made an effort, although half her attention was still on the racing on the tele.
They ate in a comfortable silence that gave Elijah a chance to look at his mum. The years hadn’t been kind to Silvia. Her hair looked brittle, whispy and over processed, her body so thin that her bones stuck out unattractively, her face deeply lined in that way of heavy smokers. But, Elijah suddenly realised, she seemed more at ease with herself. Something was different and it took him a while to work out what it was.
Finally he got it; at last she seemed to have accepted that she was growing old. Her clothes weren’t quite so mutton-dressed-up-as-lamb, instead more practical and comfortable, her make up not quite so thick. The heels of the innumerable pairs of shoes stacked out in the hall weren’t quite so ridiculously high, hell she even had slippers on now. But it was more than all that, she seemed satisfied to sit back and watch her favourite sport whilst eating her favourite cake. She wasn’t fighting the world anymore, she was at ease with her self.
He hoped he wasn’t going to spoil things for her.
Eventually the racing finished and Elijah sat forward. “Mum, can we talk for a bit please?” he asked. Reluctantly, one eye on the Gregory Peck film that was just starting, Silvia turned the television off.
“What’s the matter?” she looked at Orli suspiciously. “What’s he done this time?”
Elijah couldn’t help but smile, even now, as far as Silvia and Orli were concerned, everything was always the other one’s fault. “Nothing, he hasn’t done anything,” he almost reached out to pat her knee.
“Well neither have I,” she said indignantly.
“I’m sure you haven’t,” he slipped the uneaten half of his custard tart onto her plate. “I never thought you had.”
“So, what’s the matter then?” she asked. “You’re always too busy working on that new flat of yours to come and see me.” The words were harsh but Elijah knew it was only a habit, there was no resentment.
He took a breath ready to explain, only now he didn’t know how to start. Then Orli’s hand was warm on the small of his back and he was sure again. “There’s a man who’s rung us up a couple of times, he’s demanding money, a lot of money.”
“What for?” she looked from one to the other. “What’s his game?”
Elijah took another deep breath and Orli’s hand rubbed a tight, reassuring circle on his flesh. “Blackmail. He’s trying to blackmail me.”
“Over what?” she demanded, and Elijah could see her anger start to rise. “My son’s never done anything he could be blackmailed for.” Orli wondered who she was talking to, but it didn’t matter. Her indignation and rage were good enough for him.
“He sent some photographs,” Elijah went on. “Of me and him,” he hesitated for a moment, God knows why. She knew exactly what he used to do, hell, she’d taught him to do it. “Of me and him fucking, when I was really young.”
Her face froze for a moment, contorting into an odd grimace. She knew all right, she’d known what he did and when he’d started doing it but, oddly, she’d never quite brought herself to think about the details. Then she made a conscious effort to put that out of her mind. “That was bleeding stupid of you, letting someone take pictures. I told you never to leave any evidence.”
Orli snorted in incredulity, the bloody woman, how could she? But Elijah was already speaking. “I didn’t know he took them, I did listen to you and I do have some sense.”
“Well,” she blustered. “So you should. What’s he want then? Who’s he threatening you with?” Suddenly she turned on Orli, staring angrily. “Has he got you running scared? I always knew you’d turn tail at the first bloody sight of trouble, you’re not good enough for him and you should…”
“Mum,” Elijah tried gently at first, then he shouted loud enough to stop her in her tracks. “Mum!” Silvia looked back at her son, mouth still open ready to argue. “I showed Orli the photos as soon as I got them and he’s okay with them.” He gave Orli a soft smile. “Maybe not okay, but he’s handled them and he’s right here with me. We’re doing fine.”
Orli fingers pressed firmly on Elijah’s back. For once he agreed with Silvia, he wasn’t good enough for Elijah. No one was. Silvia gave him a meagre smile.
“This bloke is threatening to show them around, he even said he show them to my head teacher, unless I give him money,” Elijah continued.
“I hope you told him to fuck off?” Silvia questioned. “You haven’t done anything illegal.” She started picking at the extra bit of custard tart on her plate as though the potentially nasty situation was over.
“Of course I did,” Elijah’s back was still rigid with tension. “Now he’s demanding double and when I said why, he told me to ask you.”
“Me?” Silvia stopped, a piece of tart half way to her mouth. “What’s it got to do with me?”
“That’s what we want to know,” Orli said ominously.
Again she looked from one to the other. “I don’t know nothing about it. How am I meant to bloody know anything? You did loads of people.”
“But you sent him to me,” Elijah said softly.
“Did I?” Silvia didn’t seem bothered by the thought, just perplexed. “How do you know?”
“I only vaguely remember him, he was waiting outside the school gates for me, he said you’d sent him.”
Again she didn’t seem to care, shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head. “I don’t know, come on, you have to admit there were a lot of blokes.”
“I know,” Elijah agreed. “But this one has come back and he said to ask you.”
She shrugged again. “Sorry love,” she admitted defeat. “I don’t know who he is.”
“Hang on, I’ll get the pictures. When you see him you should remember,” Elijah reached for the bag by Orli’s chair.
“No!” Silvia almost shouted, a kind of panic in her voice. She knew what Elijah did, oh yes she knew, but by hell she couldn’t face seeing it. “I don’t want to look at a pile of mucky bleeding pictures.”
“But they’re of Elijah and you sent the man,” Orli said, his resentment burning. They were meant to be getting on better but sometimes he’d like to wrap his hands round her scrawny neck and just squeeze.
“Oh shut up,” Silvia dismissed him. “What do you know about anything?”
Orli opened his mouth ready to tell her just what he did know but Elijah forestalled him. “I need to know who this bloke is mum, and what he thinks he’s got on me.”
“I ain’t looking at the photos,” Silvia folded her arms over her scraggy chest and Elijah’s face closed over his annoyance. “All right,” she gave in. “You can tell me what he looked like.”
Elijah accepted what he could get and closed the bag back up. “He was white, about forty, I should think, close cropped dark hair, blue eyes, a lot of muscles and no fat.”
Silvia shrugged again. “That could be anyone of a hundred blokes I’ve met, I didn’t know half their names even if I knew the size of their cocks.” She gave a ridiculous little giggle, more suitable for someone a quarter of her age.
“Name,” Elijah repeated the word. “What was his name Orlando? He said it on the phone, something beginning with L. Lee? Lance?”
“Len,” Orli said, not having to think about it. That name was burned into his brain. “He said to tell your mum Lenny’s back.”
In that instant Silvia’s face froze, then it turned a deathly grey white, her skin pulling tight in a way no facelift could manage, her cheek bones standing out as her lips thinned and her eyes widened. Orli stared in startled fascination, mouth opening but it was Elijah that spoke. “Mum? What is it? Who is he?”
Silvia’s hand went up to cover her face but it wasn’t enough, she got up and turned away from them. “Nothing, it’s fucking nothing. You come up here bringing me all your bloody problems, how am I meant to know anything? I don’t bloody know, I don’t bloody care.”
“Mum,” Elijah caught her arm, pulling her back as she headed for the door. “Come on, you obviously know something.”
“I don’t!” she all but shrieked, and then they saw her face again. Pure terror. Orli had never seen such fear on another person’s face, not in real life. Silvia was terrified.
What on earth had this Len done to her in the past?
“I don’t know nothing,” she stated with finality, pushing Elijah’s hand away.
“Fine, I’ll ask him next time he rings,” Elijah shot back at her.
Her face changed again and this time Orli wasn’t so sure what it was at first. The out and out terror was still there but there was something else. She looked frantically at Orli then back at Elijah, a myriad of emotions in her eyes. “Love,” she almost whispered, reaching out to half pat, half rub at Elijah’s shoulder. And Orli suddenly knew what it was; concern. Silvia was actually concerned about her son. As far as Orli knew, that was a first.
“Stay away from him, he’s nothing but trouble. Stay away,” her voice rose, the fear thick in every word.
“I’ve never been near him,” Elijah said reasonably. “At least not in the last ten years. Who is he?”
“Trouble. You have to get away from him.”
“I have no intention of going near him,” Elijah said and Silvia seemed to calm a little. “But I can’t stop him ringing me, he obviously has my number and certainly knows where I live.”
“No.” Panic this time, pure panic on Silvia’s face. “You have to get away, hide somewhere he can’t find you.”
“Oh don’t be daft,” Elijah snorted. “I’m not hiding, I’ve got work on Monday.”
“You have to, you can’t go home, not now. You’ll have to start again somewhere else.”
“But Orli’s got work as well.”
“But you have to,” she cried. “Tell him,” she appealed to Orli. Another first. “You have to keep him safe, tell him he can’t go back home, that you’ll take him somewhere else and keep him safe. Right now, today.”
“Of course I’ll keep him safe,” Orli stood, moving closer to Elijah. “But what’s the panic?”
“Him. You have to get away from… him.” She couldn’t make herself say the man’s name.
“Mum,” Elijah said calmly. “We’ve got no money with us, our home and our jobs are in London along with all our stuff. How can we not go back?”
“But,” Silvia’s hand fussed up around Elijah again and then she turned, crossing the room and rummaging in an old sideboard. Papers, packs of playing cards, old packets and a load of other junk was flung to the floor as she searched frantically for something. Then a victory cry of, ‘Yes,’ and she was back, a bank book pushed towards them.
“Here, take this. I’ve never managed to save much but it’s all I got, it’s what I’ve put by in case I can’t find a man to help me out when I get really old.”
Elijah took the book, stunned. “You’re giving me your savings?” he asked incredulously.
“Yeah, as long as you use them to get away.”
“For fuck’s sake why?” Elijah demanded. “I’ve never seen you scared of anyone, you just give them a mouthful of abuse, smash something up and kick them in the balls before walking all over them. Who the hell is this guy?”
“I…” Silvia stuttered. “But… He’s trouble, all right, he’s trouble.”
“No mum,” Elijah folded his arms. “I need more than that.”
She changed again, anger covering the fear. “Fucking shit Elijah, just do as you’re told.”
“I’m not ten anymore.”
“But you’ll still do what I tell you.”
“I don’t even do what Orli tells me half the time, you’ve got no chance.”
“You fucking little bastard,” she screamed at him. “Just do what I tell you and get away from him.”
“Why?” Elijah asked evenly.
Her hand shot out but it was Orli she connected with, not Elijah. She opened her fist at the last moment and slapped at his arm. “What are you, some useless piece of shit? Do something, fucking make him get away. Drag him by his bloody hair.”
“I’ve never been able to make him do anything he doesn’t want to,” Orli admitted regretfully. For once he felt himself agreeing with Silvia. He had no idea who this man was but anyone that could cause that level of fear was worth staying away from.
“Bloody useless,” Silvia turned back to Elijah. “Please, for me? Do it for your mum.”
The sight of his mother pleading, almost begging, took Elijah’s breath away. Never had she pleaded with him for anything; she demanded or more likely just told.
“Who is he mum?” he asked softly.
“I…” Silvia turned her back on them again. Elijah caught hold of her and gently stroked the over-washed folds of her cardigan.
“Mum?”
She faced him, her hand reaching out to pat his cheek, something Orli had never seen happen before. Another first and then another. There were tears in the corners of her eyes. “He’s your father love. Len’s your father.”
+
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OMG, WTF!?!
*you've reduced me to this!*
MORE!
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:-)
More will be along shortly.
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WTF!
Oh when are you posting the next chapter which I know is already written cos you have the sense to start posting only when you've finished the fic.
*shivers*
This, I think, is the best yet!
*hugs*
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This, I think, is the best yet!
Wow, thank you indeed honey. More next weekend.
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My mum used to play that tape to me in the car when I was little and it has always stuck in my mind.
Glad you enjoyed it.
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Just let Elijah and Orli be okay, whatever else happens.
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:-)
You'll just have to wait and see.
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Recovered. The first thing that I have to say is that this is a whole level of eeww! that I never would hope on my worst enemy. Poor Elijah! Just when he started to make peace with everything, he finds out that his father had sex with him? That's messing with my mind, so I can't imagine what it's doing to his! Of course, his survival instincts may kick in and he may be pragmatic about it. After all, he didn't know and really, he couldn't have controlled the situation any more than any other victim of incest could. I'm still floored. Interesting twist.
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:-)
It is disgusting and shocking. But you're right, it's more than that, it's about messing with Elijah's (and Silvia's) minds. It always was. That's why Len did it.
I love the fact that something I've written has provoked such a reaction in you, that is a true compliment.
Thank you so much.