Billy Billy Billy Billy

Wearing skinny jeans and a pink shirt with a flashy band's name across his chest, I thought he was gay. I can't remember which band it was. The Strokes? The Strokes doesn't really strike me as flashy pink though. It may not have been because of the colour or the band. Maybe the t-shirt was a little too tight for a straight science teacher? With a charming smile, he greeted me.

'Hi! I think you are a French teacher?’
‘Oui, c’est correct.’
‘Bonsoir, enchanté, I'm Billy.'
'Bonsoir. Je m'appelle Emma. Enchantée '. 'Parlez-vous Français?'
‘Uh... how do you say a little or just basics?'

This is how we met at a welcome party for new teachers. Billy is from Ireland. He was covering until Margaret's maternity leave was over. He couldn't find a job as a science teacher in Ireland. To boost his career, he took this temporary teaching position in London.
Other than the skinny jeans and the pink T-shirt, Billy was a handsome man, above the average. Middle built. He seemed like he could have had a beer belly but it could be just because of the misleading tight T-shirt. He had short blond hair with typical receding hairlines, round bluish green eyes that were so crystal clear and mesmerising. I gazed into them so many times. I saw them shine. He was very charming with a rather innocent cheeky smile like a little boy, which would appeal to your maternal instinct. His teeth were shiny white even though he smoked. His smile would make you smile. He was a clean person. His whiff of an aftershave was not bold but more like a pleasant touch of etiquette. He was nice to have a friendly banter with.

‘Are you having a laugh?’ Billy would do a nasal Ricky Gervais. ‘You like Only Fools and Horses too?’ Then he started singing. We've got some half price cracked ice and miles and miles of carpet tiles, T.V.s, deep freeze and David Bowie L.P.s…. It cracked me up. He was charming and funny. He seemed to get along with everyone because this was Billy.
Most of the teachers would go out for drinks on Friday after school. But Billy and I never went out for drinks just by two of us. There was no need to. We connected alright as colleagues. But not more than that. Billy was handsome but not my type. I used to go for tall macho men whose mere existence would save some pointless jabs. He seemed quite occupied getting used to his way around. His closest colleague was Matt, a P.E. teacher because he was using the Man U mug. Billy started singing. Glory, glory, Man United. Matt joined. Glory, glory Man United. They were mates just like that. I played football in school. I wasn’t any good at it but I enjoyed having a kickabout. But I could not be those football fanatics. So when Billy and I saw each other at school, we were just polite to each other to have casual greetings. Our greeting was usually in basic French.

‘Bonjour, mademoiselle.
‘Bonjour, monsieur. Ça va?’
‘Oui, ça va. And you…. Et vous?’
‘Très bien. Merci.’

After a while, it started to get on my nerves that Billy repeatedly used et vous.
‘Billy, we’re not strangers now. So you should say, et tu. Et vous is for strangers.’
‘Alright, alright. Et tu. Et tu? ’ He seemed to have got it. But again and again, he repeatedly made the same mistake.

‘No, no, Billy. Not s’il vous plaît. But s’il tu plaît to friends.’
Billy would say, ‘it means the bloody same thing.’ He got defensive but he had a smile on his face. I felt like it was my duty as a French teacher to correct those little things especially when he was learning French or at least trying, or showing off or something. I never found him annoying. Charming people can get away with a lot of things without offending others, can’t they?
I felt like Billy and I were friends. I would enjoy our friendly banters. On Friday pub nights, I would talk to him.

‘Hey, Billy! How are you? ’
‘I’m grand. How about you?’
‘I’m great. Oh, did you watch last night’s X Factor?
‘Yeah, do you remember the guy with the…puffy ballet thing around his belly?
‘Haha. Tutu.’
‘Yeah, tutu. What a full of shite.’
I enjoyed being his friend/colleague. He was funny to be around.
‘Mademoiselle, salt…salt…uh.... Ah! Sel, s’il vous plaît.’
I laughed and said, ‘Bien sur. But Billy, s’il tu plaît to friends, Remember. S’il tu plaît.’
Billy rolled his eyes and said, ‘Oh, God. Here we go again.’
It was fun watching him getting worked up in a childish way.
With a cheeky smile, I went on. ‘I have told you million times now. You’re a teacher. You should also be a good learner, you know.’ I was laughing in triumph. He was laughing in embarrassment.

One day, we were at the usual pub on Friday. I went up to Billy having fun with other teachers.
‘Hi, Billy. How are you today?’
He stopped laughing and dropped his upward smile. Suddenly in a non-friendly tired voice, he said,
‘Hey, Emma. Not bad. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ ‘What are you guys talking about?’
‘Nothing, really.’ He was on the move. ‘I’m gonna talk to the guys over there. Sorry.’
There was no charming full of fun Billy for me. When we passed each other at a corridor, he said,
‘Hey. How are you?’ Without waiting for my answer, he kept walking.
I didn’t know what I did wrong.

Several months passed. No improvement between Billy and me. Out of the blue, Matt, the P.E. teacher came up with an idea that we play football after school. A casual kickabout. When Matt asked me, I said I would join. On the first day of football, there were around ten of us teachers. A few female teachers showed up. Billy came out, wearing the Man U shirt.
‘Oh, hi, Emma. I didn’t know you play football.’ He sounded friendly this time.
‘Yeah. I played in school. I’m not good but I like having a kickabout, you know.’
‘That’s cool. Where do you play on the pitch?’
‘I’m usually a forward.’
‘Look at you, mademoiselle Ronaldo, la dame striker. ’ He said, with the cheeky smile on. The Billy I knew was back.
In the game Billy was very encouraging. When I made some good passes, he said, ‘Great pass, Emma.’ When I made good tackles, he shouted, ‘Well in, Emma. Come on.’
Since I started playing football, he became friendly towards me again. When I scored my first goal, he rushed over to me and lifted me up, roaring, ‘Eeeemmaaaa! Youuuu scoreeeed! Eeeemmaaaa! Yeahhhhh.’
I felt like a princess.

One Friday, it was a pub quiz night.
‘Hi, Billy.’
Billy turned around and looked at me. ‘Hi, Emma. How are you?’
His eyes were twinkling. My heart started to beat faster. I was sucked into his eyes, the ocean blue, endless, beady marbles, curioser and curioser.
‘I’m fine, thank you. Are you having a good time?’
‘Yeah. It’s fun. Did you get the name of the island where Father Ted is based? ’
‘Ah. Nope.’
‘Oh. Craggy Island.’
‘Ah, Of course.’
Billy laughed. Imitating Father Ted, ‘Dougal! God Almighty! Hell with that sort of thing.’
I laughed.
Imitating Father Jack, ‘For Christ’s sake, feck off! Driiiiiiiiink.’
I kinda started to fancy Billy.

One evening just before football, I was talking to another teacher. She was going to Paris for a holiday. So she wanted to learn basic French.
‘I will be glad to teach you any time.’ I said to her.
Billy was standing close to us. He came over. ‘I want to learn French too.’
‘Sure, I will teach you any time.’ I put on an air. But inside, my heart was racing.
‘Oh, really? Grand.’ Billy walked away.
On the same evening, I got a message on Facebook from Billy.

Hey, Emma. Well done today. You played very well.
So, I would like to take up your offer to teach me French. Are you going to Steve’s Farewell party this Friday? We could arrange a date then.
x
Billy

At Steve’s farewell party, I looked around for Billy. Our eyes met. We waved for each other and found each other.
‘Hello, Emma. How are you?’
‘Hi, Billy. How are you? I’m good. You?’
‘Yeah, grand. Can I get you a drink?’
‘Ah, thanks. Red wine, please.’
It was the first time he got me a drink.
‘Here, you go. Cheers.’
‘Thanks, cheers.’
‘Have you tried some food here?’
‘Yes.’
‘They do great pastas here. Their pesto is hand-made.’
‘Oh, really? I can’t really tell.’
‘You see, I used to work as a chef in a restaurant.’
‘Wow. So you can cook?’
‘Yes. I’m quite good, if I may say so myself.’
‘Fantastic. Someday you can have me for dinner.’
Billy’s eyes got wide and he laughed.
‘Oh, I mean, you have me over for dinner.’ My cheeks were burning.
‘I can have you for dinner as well.’
We were acting like teenage kids with coloured cheeks. Embarrassed, timid, flustered, but happy.
‘What are you doing next Friday after our drinks?’
‘Uh, nothing planned, really.’
‘I can cook you dinner then, if you want.’
‘Really?’
‘Oui! You can teach me a bit of French then.’
‘Sure.’ I was playing cool.
‘Grand. Next Friday. It’s a date.’
‘Alright, then.’ My heart was screaming inside, ‘YEAHHHHHHHHHHH!’

During the week, I told my flat mate Kevin about Billy. ‘Kevin, I have a favour. I have a date with Billy, the science teacher!’
‘On, fun. Attagirl. You said he was hot. So what’s the favour, darling?’
‘I’m not sure how the evening will pan out. But…’
‘Yes? But what?’
‘Umm, just in case, there is a chance of…’
‘Oh, you’re gonna do him? On the first date? Check you out.’ I was burning inside.
‘Well… there was an indication that we might…possibly…’
‘Shag?’
I rolled my eyes and said, ‘We didn’t say shag. But when I slipped and said you can have me for dinner, and I corrected I mean over for diner, he said he can have me for dinner.’
‘Oh, Juicy baby.’
‘Stop it.’ ‘Well, so just to be on the safe side, if you could…give me a…French letter?’
‘what the fuck is a French letter?’
‘You know, a condom?’
‘Haha. You can get a whole packet of like twelve from Boots.’
‘No, I don’t want a whole packet. I can’t commit myself to a whole packet.’ ‘I’d feel silly if I was so prepared and nothing happened. You know? It could be really just dinner.’
‘Oh my god, you are so cute. I hope you get to shag him. If not, I’d have a go.’

The next Friday after the usual drink at the pub, we headed over to his place. He was living with another teacher, Steve, from a different school. He came to our school to play football with us several times.
‘Where’s Steve today?’
‘He’s out. I told him that you were coming over. So he made some plans to clear the place for us for tonight.’
‘Oh, wow. Does he know who I am?’
‘Yeah. I told him, I’m bringing a girl from my school. The hot girl from football. Then, he said you are cute.’
I laughed and said, ‘you think I’m hot?’
‘Yeah, you’re hot. I thought you were cute from the first time when I met you.’
‘Oh, really?’ I was so embarrassed. I could have said something flattering back to him. But I held it back and played cool as my flat mate Kevin told me to.
‘Yes. But you kinda went off of my list.’
‘Huh? What do you mean?’
‘I thought you were an annoying bitch.’
I almost chocked on wine. ‘Excuse me?!’
‘You started to correct my French every time I tried to speak it.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know you minded that.’
‘I was trying. But I lost my confidence thanks to you. I couldn’t be bothered anymore. So I thought you were a bitch.’ He laughed.
‘Hardly. Bitch is a little harsh.’
‘But since you started to play football, your points improved and now back on the top of the league.’
I laughed. ‘What league?’
‘Billy Premiere League.’
I imitated his voice and said, ‘You’re full of shite.’
We both laughed. We opened red wine and toasted. He started to cook pasta and took a lead in the agenda of our conversation; relationships.
Billy started, ‘So, tell me Emma. What kind of people have you dated before? Did you have many boyfriends? You seem like an experienced girl.’
No kidding around, no polite talk or friendly banter this time. We talked on and on, topped up our glasses more and more until the wine bottle had nothing left to offer and dinner was ready. I was inebriated with wine and his irresistible charm.

The next morning, Billy made me macadamia chocolate coffee and bacon and egg on toast. The finest breakfast I had ever tasted. The more of him I saw, the more and the faster I fell in love with him.
After I got home that day, I duly reported to Kevin. ‘It was perfect, Kevin. Oh my god, I really like him. What am I gonna do?’
‘It’s funny to see you being in love. It’s so cute. When are you gonna see him next? I mean, not at school but outside of school like on a date.’
‘I don’t know. I’m gonna text him now and say I had a really great time yesterday and ask when we can go –‘
Kevin interrupted, ‘Hey hey, slow down, girl. Nobody likes a needy girl. You gotta take control, taking it slow, sweetheart.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. You don’t wanna sound too keen. It’s a bit off-putting for a man.’
‘Right.’
‘Did you tell him that we are going to Ibiza this weekend?’
‘Yes, I did mention that. I also mentioned that my best friend Tom is also coming with us.’
‘What did Billy say?’
‘He said that’s cool. I told him that Tom recently broke up with his girlfriend. I assured him that Tom and I never fancied each other that way.’
‘Alright. Anyway you may find a better man out there. Who knows, you may be into a sizzling hot eurotrash boy, you know?’
I laughed and said, ‘Well, he said, don’t stop whatever you want to do because of me. Do whatever you want.’
‘Oh, really? Hmm. Interesting.’
‘Yeah. He said, he just came out of a long relationship. So he doesn’t want a relationship especially when he is here temporarily.’
‘Right, where is he from again?’
‘Ireland.’
‘Ah. So what happens now?’
‘He said to me, if he thinks of me, he will text me.’
During the day, it was so hard for me not to text him. Because Kevin told me off every time I checked my phone, I successfully waited until Billy texted me.

Re:
It was great to have you over.
Let’s hang out soon.
x
Billy

During the week at work, we kept it professional. But we started texting each other. A secret affair. It was exhilarating.

He texted me the night before football.

Re:
Hey Emma,
If you don’t have anything planned after football tomorrow,
you can come over and we can watch the movie.
You’re welcome to stay over if you like.
x
Billy

Re:
Hi, Billy :)
Sure. That’d be nice.
See you tomorrow.

On Friday, we were texting.

Bonjour, Billy.
Ça va?’

Re:
Bonjour, Emma.
Oui, ça va.
what’s your plan for tonight?
x
Billy

Re:
Nothing really.
How about you, Billy?

Re:
Do you want to come over to my place?
I’ll cook you dinner before you go to Ibiza.
x
Billy

Re:
How nice.
Can’t wait!

As I had an intense romance package in one week, I was rather immersed in the Billy world. Billy made me a playlist for my iPod. 80’s rock. We Built This City, Jessie’s Girl, 99 Red Balloons, Take On Me, Africa, Don’t Stop Believing, To be With You, More Than Words, I Want To Know What Love Is. (I Just) Died In Your Arms Tonight, Dream On, Every Rose Has Its Thorn, Love Hurts. Heaven. I never got into 80’s music. Heaven was playing in the background when we were engaged in our romantic affairs. The way he kissed me. He gently leaned his face forward and closed his eyes. I did the same. Then our lips met. His gentle touch gave me comfort and the tingly feeling down my spine. I longed for more. I felt like we were actually making love. Not having sex. Not shagging. It felt just right. It felt like he appreciated all of me. He held me tight. He kissed me before and after in the same way. He offered me an arm pillow. He stroked my hair. We talked in bed, looking into each other’s eyes. I felt complete.

On the plane to Ibiza, I listened to the playlist Billy made for me. I listened to it on the beach and before I went to bed. Every time I heard Heaven, I had a flashback of us in bed, making me relish the moment in my head full on repeat. Mind you, as Kevin said, there were so many hot guys out there. I could have fooled around with them if I had not met Billy. But he became my yardstick. Every man reflected a piece of him from head to toe, and inside and out.
On the second day in Ibiza, I finally got a text from Billy.

I hope you are having fun.
Thinking of you.
x
Billy

Re:
Hi Billy!
Nice to hear from you.
Ibiza’s fun.
We’ve been chillaxing.
I’ve been listening to your playlist.
They are really good.

Re:
I’m glad you like my playlist.
Which one do you like the best?
x
Billy

Re:
I like Heaven and I want to know
what love is the most.
I wish you were here, Billy.

Re:
Good choice.
Me too.
Can’t wait to see you.
Hurry back home.
x
Billy

Although I was on holiday, I just couldn’t wait to get back to Billy. Kevin and Tom were not happy with me. They called me a killjoy for my talk of Billy, Billy this, Billy that. They were running out of what to say to tell me off.
‘Oi, leave the phone alone.’
‘Hey, what did I tell you?’
Slap. ‘No!’

When I finally arrived back in London, I texted Billy from the airport.

I’m back!

Re:
Welcome back.
Come and see me.
I wanna see you.
x
Billy

Re:
Now?

Re:
Yes.
x

Re:
Directly from the airport?

Re:
Yes.
x

So I ditched Kevin and Tom at the airport and I went over to Billy’s. My heart walked, jogged and ran with me. When Billy opened the door for me, it popped. I was in full bloom. We hugged for the days we missed each other. We kissed to feel the moment together as us.

Billy said to me in bed, ‘Emma, I’m a little scared now.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m not supposed to feel this way towards anyone at this point in my life.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I feel like I am losing control. As I said, I don’t want a relationship. I’m a sort of a person who commits into a relationship. My life would be dominated by the relationship.’
‘Is it such a bad thing?’
‘In my current situation, yes. I’m here temporarily. When I have a girlfriend, I get anti-social, spending too much time with her.’
I laughed and said, ‘I wouldn’t make that happen to you. I’d kick you out of the house.’
Billy laughed.
‘And let you enjoy your time with your friends. It’s healthy that way.’
‘Look, Emma. I know about myself. I am that sort of a person who wants to put my girlfriend first. I can’t change it because that is how I am and I want to commit myself 100 % when I am in a relationship just because I want to. But now I don’t wanna get into a relationship and get hurt. I don’t wanna hurt you either.
‘Oh, I’ll be fine.’
‘Well, you know I came out of a long-term relationship recently. It took me a painfully long time to get over it. After several years being together, it didn’t work out. So I just can’t bring myself to do that to myself all over again.’
‘I can understand that.’
‘So, I think I need to slow down. I need to see less of you.’
‘You don’t want to see me anymore?’
‘No no, it’s not that. I really really like you. It’s fun being around you. But I know if I keep seeing you like this, I will be always thinking about you and I will lose complete control because I am already falling for you when I shouldn’t.’
‘Can’t you just let it be? It may not even work out.’
‘No, I can’t. I just want to enjoy now without worrying about anything else.’
‘Okay.’
What Billy said, it hurt me. I didn’t understand why he needed to think of what’s gonna happen when he didn’t know what would happen.

Since I was a little girl, it was my dream to go to see the bonfire and fireworks with a boyfriend on Guy Fawke’s Night. This Guy Fawke’s Night, we decided to go to Battersea Park as a group. Billy and I were still seeing each other. I asked Billy to go with me. He said he wasn’t really keen to go but he would come if I wanted him to. Some of the teachers were going. I invited Kevin and Tom. Kevin brought his boyfriend Kenny. It was the first time for Billy and me to go out to a public place. I put my arm around his. He patted mine. We walked next to each other. When we lost each other even for a moment, we looked for each other. We couldn't be apart. We sat next to each other on the Tube. Billy rested his head on my shoulder and said,
‘I was looking forward to this all day long.’
I tilted my head over his and I held his hand. We shared his earphones and listened to 80’s rock on his iPod.

At the bonfire, I was taking pictures of our friends and the bonfire. Then, I was trying to take a picture of Billy and me, stretching my short arm. We put our faces closer and smiled for the camera. Flash. I said to Billy,
‘Another one.’
‘I’ll do it. It’ll be better as I have a longer arm.’
I snorted and handed over my camera to him. Billy took it and stretched his arm. We put our faces closer. This time, I pretended to kiss him on the cheek. He held down the shutter. He turned and kissed me on the lips. Flash. On the screen, the picture appeared upside down. Our faces dominated the picture. Glowing faces and shiny hair. Our eyes closed. Our lips met right at the centre.

I transferred this picture to my phone. Now and then, I looked at it and made myself blush. I remembered how I felt at that moment, in my heart and on my lips. This upside-down picture became my favorite memory.

At our football, other teachers from different schools started to join us. Some teachers started to notice that Billy and I were more than just friends. Billy sometimes invited me to stay over at his place after football. We would leave the school together. When I introduced myself to those newcomers, some of them said to me,
‘Ah, you’re Billy’s girl.’
I was honoured to be associated with Billy but troubled at the same time whether to deny it or to enjoy being Billy’s girl in their heads, in the world that didn’t exist.

There was one evening when Billy didn’t show up at football. I didn’t ask him whether he was coming or not. I didn’t really see him at school that day. People asked me where he was. I didn’t know where he was. I asked Matt.
‘Do you know where Billy is tonight?’
‘Yes. He should be at his Irish mate’s birthday party. Billy texted me to join him after football to join the lads.’
‘Ah, right.’
I was hurt. I didn’t know about this. I was not even invited. I was not clearly Billy’s girl. We had been seeing each other for few months but we had never clarified what we were. I didn’t want to be labelled as his fuck buddy. But I was not his girlfriend although I really wanted to be. We were not just friends. Benefits had to be claimed.
Although I really enjoyed hanging out with him at his place, I wanted to go on a date with him. When I walked on streets alone and saw couples holding hands, I envied them. I wondered why it could not have been us. I wanted something to look forward to. It was always on the day or the day before Billy would text me and ask what my plans were for the day. I once tried asking him in advance.

Hello, Billy.
If you don’t have a plan
this Friday after the pub,
can we do something together?

Re:
Sure.
What did you have in mind?
x
Billy

Re:
I have a place where
I want to go with you.

Re:
Great.
I’ll meet you at the pub.
x
Billy

I wanted to take him to my favorite crêpe restaurant. I always wanted to go there on a date. I was so excited. Kevin had asked me earlier in the week if I wanted to have dinner with him and Kenny at home. I said 'maybe' then. But I wanted to ask Billy and make sure that he wouldn’t be available for us to do something together. After I texted Billy, I told Kevin that I was gonna have romantic dinner with Billy. Kevin said,
‘Aww. We would miss you. You’re always about Billy, huh? But whatevs. Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.’
The thing was, there was nothing as important as him to me. I knew my friends were going to be my friends even when I cancelled our play dates at the last minute. They would get annoyed but they would understand because they know how I become when I am crazy in love. But it didn’t feel right this time because Billy wasn’t my boyfriend. I felt foolish when I thought about it. But I tried not to think about that and waited patiently for the Friday to come.

On Friday at the pub, Billy and others were already drinking.
‘Hey, Emma.’ Billy waved at me.
I waved back and said hello. He was sitting in the middle. There was no space for me to squeeze in. So I started to talk to the teachers in my vicinity. I was thinking I was going on a date with Billy soon enough, to my favorite restaurant with Billy, just two of us. This excitement kept me going to get through all the boring stories of whatever happening to others with a charming smile on my face. In an half an hour, some of them stood up and started preparing to go. I waited for Billy’s signal for our departure. Billy came over to me and said,
‘Hi Emma.’ He kissed me on my lips.
‘Hi Billy. How are you?’
‘I’m grand. Grand. We’re gonna go to the pub just around the corner to play pool. Do you want to come with us?’
My smile left me for the night.
‘Umm, Billy, what about our dinner?’
‘Uh, shall I call you when I’m done?’
A perfect picture in my head just got torn apart.
‘Don’t worry about it, Billy.’
‘Enjoy your boy time. See you later.’ I swivelled around and tears rolled down my cheeks. I walked to the station with my head down, dropping a trail of tears on the ground.

When I got home, there was no trace of tears on my face. But when Kevin said,
‘Oh, honey. You’re home early. How was your dinner?’
The tears came streaming down. I created a few dark patches on Kevin’s purple T-shirt. I told him what happened. He was angry with Billy. But Kevin said,
‘Well Emma, I don’t mean to sound harsh but you are technically his friend with benefits at the moment who could not be promoted to being his girlfriend.’
‘Kev, what’s wrong with me?’
‘Darling, there is nothing wrong with you. It’s his problem. He has commitment issues. Nothing to do with you. He’s not worth it. You’re better than that, sweetheart.’
‘But I really like him.’
‘Look, honey. You need to stand up for yourself. It’s so hard for me to see you getting smitten with an asshole who takes advantage of my precious girl. It makes me angry. I wanna punch him.’
‘Oh! Please don’t.’
‘I won’t. But even Tom said he can’t see what you see in him.’

One day, I had to confront Billy, ‘It’s getting hard for me, Billy. I think I need to stand up for myself. I don’t want my friends to get upset because of me.’
‘What do you mean, they are upset?’
‘Because I am beating myself up and getting hurt.’
‘What did they say about us?’
‘They said, we shouldn’t be together.’
‘They are probably right, you know. They are your friends. They know you and they care about you. You should listen to your friends.’
My voice was trembling. ‘I know. I’m so stupid for not listening to my friends but I just can’t forget about us and move on, you know. You are not just a friend to me.’
‘No, I’m not Emma. I know.’
‘I need to know whether you want to see more of me in the future or not. I can’t fool around with you. I can’t be a friend to you. I already like you too much.’ My stupid tears started to stream down.
‘Oh Emma, please don’t cry. You are breaking my heart now. I didn’t want to hurt you. It’s so heartbreaking to see you so sad.’
‘Every time people asked me whether I was your girlfriend, I didn’t know what to say. Because I am not your girlfriend, I’m your colleague and a friend. But it just felt so wrong. I wished that I meant you more than that.’
‘Emma, you do.’
‘But because I’m not Billy’s girl, I am just your fuck buddy, a friend with benefits.’ I started to sniffle.
‘No, you’re not. I do care about you, Emma. I didn’t want to hurt you. I really didn’t.’
‘If you do care about me, why can’t you give it a shot? Nobody knows what happens tomorrow. I may be stabbed to death.’
‘I just can’t Emma. I am going back to Ireland when Margaret comes back.’
‘Who knows I might end up in Ireland in the future?’
‘Well, you see, Emma. I just can’t handle a relationship right now.’
‘I know that you’ve been hurt before. But if you have any feelings for me at all, if you care about me like you said, I want you to consider. I just don’t want to wonder about what ifs and what could have happened. I would rather see it through and move on. I think we’re great together.’
‘We are.’
‘Then, why…?’ I had to blot my eyes with the sleeves of my jumper. Billy came over to me and hugged me.
‘Emma, you are breaking my heart.’
In his arms, I smelt his perfume and felt his warmth. This was what I wanted but I couldn’t have. I wanted to be a strong girl. I didn’t want to beat myself up anymore. I pulled myself away from him.
‘Billy, I’m gonna go.’
‘Okay. Let me take you to the station.’
‘No. I’m fine on my own.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yep.’ I tried smiling but I managed to make it into a jumble with a smile on a crumpled face with tears falling down helplessly.
‘Give me a call when you get home safe, okay?’
‘No, Billy. I’m not gonna talk to you anymore.’
‘Hey Emma, don’t be like that.’
‘I won’t talk to you. I cannot talk to you.’
‘Come on, now.’ Billy tried to reach for my arm.
‘Let me go.’ I flung it away. ‘Good-bye, Billy.’ I ran out of his flat.
While I was walking to the station, I deleted his contact from my phone.

I tried hard not to see him at school. I avoided him as much as I could. No more football for me. Even when Billy saw me and greeted me, I said hi when students were around. He texted me a few times.

Hey, Emma.
Please talk to me.
I don’t want to lose you from my life.
I still care about you.
x
Billy

Emma,
why didn’t you come to football?
x
Billy

Hey, Emma.
Why didn’t you come out tonight?
Everyone was asking about you.
x
Billy

When a whiff of Billy’s scent would drift towards me, I thought of him. When I heard one of the songs from the playlist Billy made for me, I thought of him. When I saw a sign of Man U, Billy wearing his Man U shirt popped in my head. Broken French, Guinness, Father Ted, the pub, his pasta, his coffee, his breakfast, all the X’s in the texts. I shook my head every time I thought of him. But it made me dizzy. I had wished so many times that I could forget about him just with a snap of fingers. Or if I could hate him, that would ease my pain to think that it was a good riddance. All those things around me kept throwing pieces of Billy back at me. The song Heaven always took me back to his room with us passionately in love.

I will remember you.

Casting cheeky glances at a newspaper
 held in your wrinkled hands, I asked;
‘Do you know what time the game’s on tonight?’
 That’s how our chumhood first kicked off.
 I would go to the pub to hear
your wheezing laugh, to have a chin-wag just about anything
 that kept us two as laughing drunks.
 I miss your pink kissable cheek,
your big smile showing the gap
 in between your front teeth.
I raise my glass to you,
‘Cheers.’

Play House

My five year old husband and three year old son.
I was the only girl. So I was the mother.
 We were a happy family.
 The man of the house spotted a gap in a bush.
 ‘In we go!’ We followed him into our home.
 I spread my picnic set on the ground.
Rolling up my sleeve,
 I served miso soup with air,
filled a rice bowl with sand.
 I wiped my glistening forehead.
 I did it for my family.
 When the sun’s orange, cloud were grey,
a woman came calling, ‘boys, come home.’
 When can we meet again?

Romanticism

Clicking of cobbled streets
where clink creaking carriages pass,
galloping horses lead their way.
Squeaking wheelbarrows rattle
 in a hustle of street markets.
 Neo-gothic palaces with spires and traceries,
 flourishing décor of patterned red carpets,
 chairs with elaborate golden legs, 
framed portrays of family members
commissioned to known painters,
art collection to add a touch of a connoisseur,
silverwares that requires polishing by servants,
 displays of exquisite marvels from the Grand Tour.

 Ladies in puffy dresses, layers over layers,
 elegant tailor-made dresses for ma’ams,
 admiration for a feel of stain, a colour of a ribbon,
 flowing rims and flowery laces;
Oh, such an intricate embroidery!
 swinging along a waltz.
What a beautiful lady she can be.
 All the talk of romance over tea,
 how to be courted and wooed
; how delightful to be a lady.

 Gentlemen with top hats and canes,
Savile Row tailcoats and waistcoats for Sirs.
 while ladies have their entertainment,
 men ride horses for chivalry,
they hunt for game and for their honour.
They engage themselves in deep conversations
 of politics over pipes and whisky,
 rarely about ladies,
but they know how to taking care of their ladies.
 Always, ladies first; hands of gentlemen to guide ladies,
 to guard them with their lives.

 Gentlemen lift their hats and bow.
Ladies do a courtesy.
 ‘Good day, Miss.’
 ‘Good day, Sir.’