Jumping Hedges in the Afternoon - Part 2
Grey woke up, turning over to find Malcolm, but all she found were cold sheets on his side of the bed. Opening her eyes she glanced at the clock in the dim light - 4.30am, too early for even Malcolm to be up and about surely? Under normal circumstances she’d have just rolled over and gone back to sleep, but these really weren’t normal circumstances, and she was pretty sure after months not seeing each other he wouldn’t get out of bed with her, knowing him he’d just lie there and watch her like a creepy fucker.
Still half asleep she pulled herself out of bed and padded down the landing, listening out for any sign of him downstairs. She wasn’t used to this - having two floors to have to find him on, The three rooms in his crashpad had been bad enough. She stood completely still for a few moments, then called his name and got no answer. She tried not to panic, sure she was being ridiculous, this was Malcolm she was talking about, but after the night before...he way he’d been, so fragile. She couldn’t help it.
The bathroom door was closed at the end of the landing, which was admittedly probably nothing, but she walked towards it, completely naked. and paused outside. “Malc?”
Malcolm forced himself to open his eyes, his head resting against the cold tile of the bathroom floor. He really should’ve been able to pull himself together by now. He’d been sure he only needed a minute, that had been over two hours ago. now here she was, outside, saying his name in that anxious way she always tried to hide.
“I’ll just be a minute, darling,” he called back, hoping he didn’t sound nearly as wrecked as he felt.
“You okay?”
“Aye, aye I’m fine just…” he trailed off and swallowed, tears blurring his eyes again. He had Grey, it wasn’t everything, but it was something. He needed to get a grip, focus on sorting this mess out, on making the most of having her in his house, not crying on the fucking bathroom floor like a fucking mental case. “Go back to bed.”
Grey didn’t say anything for a moment. She hated knowing him this well, being able to tell what was going on with him just by his tone of voice. She knew she should do as he’d asked, go back to bed, let him have his privacy, let him crawl back into bed with her when he was ready and not ask any more questions, but fuck too much went unsaid between them.
“Can I come in?” she asked through the door.
Malcolm’s head shot up as he wiped at his face. She couldn’t know he’d been weeping like a little boy, she just couldn’t! “Why the fuck would you want to come in? Got some weird fucking fetish I don’t know about? Christ. just when I thought I knew everything about you there’s this.”
The fact he could still reply like that was a good sign she knew, but not quite good enough.
“Malc,” she sighed, head leaning against the door. She was a bit too tired for this really, but then maybe that was why she was pushing things, she was tired enough to be brave, or maybe foolish. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I know you. I know how important this whole thing is to you, I mean-” She stopped herself instantly, now really wasn’t the time to point out the fact his job had been the reason for their break-up, but it was. She came second to it, she was only here because it wasn’t. “Just let me in, yeah?”
Malcolm hauled himself up and across the bathroom to unlock the door, as the handle was pulled down instantly and she stood there completely naked, just as he was. Only she just looked amazing, tired yes, but just as gorgeous as always. He was fairly sure the same couldn’t be said for him.
She should have just gone back to bed, the moment she saw him she knew that, she could have been curled up in his impossibly fluffy duvet with her eyes closed pretending everything was fine and avoiding the concrete evidence that it wasn’t. She could have fooled herself into thinking that he’d just been taking a piss and then woken up in his arms and gone on like everything was normal, she was really fucking good at that - pretending everything was okay. This though, the sight of him so fucking…wrong was so bad she just felt numb, like the way if you injured yourself badly enough your nerves just cut out so you couldn’t feel any pain, that was how she felt now, just…nothing.
“What?” he snapped.
She looked up at him, trying to work out what to do, she was crap at this, pulling him into bed had always been her best solution when it came to making things better, but she was pretty certain she couldn’t just fuck this whole situation out of his head.
“Nothing to say? Well that’s a fucking turn up for the books,” he said as he pushed past her.
Grey turned surprisingly quickly even to herself and grabbed his wrist. stopping him for walking away. “I fucking love you,” she said, loosening her grip and reaching for his hand instead. “Malc, you know...you know you can talk to me about stuff, yeah? I mean, okay so I’m shit with people crying... But Christ, you know I’d try, for you. I just...fucking hell Malcolm, I don’t want to wake up to you crying in the fucking toilet because you don’t want me to see you, or whatever. I want to help, fuck’s sake, why do you think I’m here?”
“Because you’re a fucking masochist,” he replied, still looking straight ahead, unable to look at her. “What other explanation is there?”
“I’d suggest love but fuck it, we’re both too cynical for that, aren’t we? So I dunno call it desperation, addiction, call it a bit of fucking human kindness, I don’t care what you call it, just fucking talk to me, fucking….fall apart if that’s what you need to do, fuck, Malcolm, do you think anything’s gonna make me think less of you? I wish it fucking would, but after everything, yeah I think that ship’s sailed.”
He couldn’t do this, he just couldn’t. He turned though, facing her and stepping closer, looking at her for a moment. Grey, his fucking girl, even after months he couldn’t help but think of her like that. His rock, the one person he really could say anything to and she’d be worryingly fine with it. Jesus, why had he not made more of an effort? Why had he let the one thing he had for himself, the one good thing get away? Only she hadn’t got away, had she? He’d pushed her away and now she’d come back and he was doing it again! What the fuck was wrong with him?
Suddenly his arms were around her, pulling her close and burying his face in her neck, eyes closed against the tears. “It wasn’t my fault,” he said, the words muffled against her skin. “I wasn’t even fucking there. They force me to take leave, then get that fucking Mario tribute cunt in to watch things and he lets this happen. It’s not my fucking fault!”
She held onto him too tightly really, no idea what else to do. They really weren’t cut out to be in this situation, they were way more about anger and banter and stress, this was completely unchartered territory for them.
“All the time we were together and you never took a week off,” she muttered, “Fuck I wish you’d called me.”
“You didn’t want to hear from me,” he pointed out. “Would’ve been nice though, least I’d’ve got a week of you fucking me before Fleming did.”
“He hasn’t got a fucking leg to stand on, everyone knows you were away when everything went to shit.” She pulled back, touched his face, wiping a tear away from his cheek. “Have you been to sleep yet?”
“You know me, I don’t need sleep.”
“Yeah, right. So let’s just pretend it’s for me, right? Because I’ve missed sleeping next to you, you snoring like a bear cub.”
“Better than you snoring like a fucking dying rhino.”
“Will you just please come back to bed with me, close your eyes. You need to sleep, being knackered really isn’t gonna help anything.”
Grey woke up, Malcolm still beside her in his bed. She wasn’t used to that. She’d never woken up before him all the time they’d been together, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up with him still in bed with her rather than with the weight of his body leaving the bed far too early in the morning. It was nice, which she instantly felt bad for thinking. The circumstances couldn’t have been worse and the fact he was still asleep didn’t really seem like a good sign either. She realised she was staring only when Malcolm stirred and she felt her heart race. She should probably get out of bed really, leave him to sleep, he had at least eight years worth of it to catch up on afterall. The thing was getting out of a bed Malcolm was in went against everything she believed in. Instead she closed her eyes again, shuffling a little bit closer to him.
Malcolm groaned sleeply, pressing back against her as he tried not to think, not to let anything from the day and night before get inside his head. It was no good though it all came flooding back, but then how could it not? He was in bed, without being woken by his alarm when it was still dark out, when Grey was wrapped round him. Grey - everything had turned to utter shit so quickly, but at least Grey was here. Something he was stunned by, after everything that had happened, everything he’d done, or not done rather. But here she was, and fuck he’d never been more thankful for anything. He’d said they’d talk though, but after last night, after she’d caught him in the bathroom...the mere thought of talking about all that made him feel like clawing his skin from his body and vomiting himself inside out.
And then he felt her lips against the nape of his neck and he relaxed.
She wanted to say she could get used to this, because she could, but she knew she’d never have the chance to, or if she would it wouldn’t be for years. It was better not to even think about it, just enjoy it for what it was, one morning in bed with him for the first time in well over a year. Instead she didn’t say anything, just wrapped herself a bit more tightly around him, let her teeth scrape lightly against his skin, And fuck, maybe that wasn’t even a good idea after last night. She didn’t want him thinking she was only after him for sex after all, even if she had really, really missed that.
Malcolm allowed himself to relax against her, his arm slipping over hers as they lay there in blissful silence. This was Grey, yeah there were certain things that she’d push, but there were also things she wouldn’t. That was just kind of the deal with them, they knew what they could and couldn’t talk about, and she wouldn’t make him talk about the fact he’d been weeping on the bathroom floor or any of that, she knew him too well for that.
“So,” she said after a while. “Can I keep you to myself another day? Cos I’ve gotta say I’m loving this whole having you naked and in bed thing.”
Naked but not actually doing anything, another thing they were decidedly not fucking mentioning, thank god. Although in fairness he did have a few totally legitimate reasons for not being able to get it up, and honestly he was almost pissed off she wasn’t even giving him the chance to tell her them.
“Maybe, if you’re good,” he replied, reaching down for her leg. Okay so he couldn’t get it up right now, but so fucking what? He still had fingers and a fucking tongue, didn’t he? There was absolutely no reason he couldn’t still show her a very good time, remind her of what she’d been missing these past couple of months.
“Oh well guess I’ve got no chance then,” she replied, angling herself closer against him as his hand moved higher.
And then his phone rang.
“Would you mind staying up here for a wee while, darling?” Malcolm asked when he came back. “And keeping it really fucking quiet?”
Grey raised an eyebrow at him. “Is your other girlfriend coming round, Malcolm? Boyfriend? Mum?”
“Just a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends,” she reminded him. “Come on, be honest, who is it?”
Malcolm dipped his head chewing his lip.
“Okay you’re freaking me out now, who the fuck is it?”
“He’s just…y’know a man that handles some of my affairs?”
“You gonna sue those pricks for unfair dismissal?”
“Not those kinds of affairs, more…business I guess you could say. He handles…” his nose wrinkled and he scratched the back of his head. “He handles my media appearances,” he admitted, feeling like a total wanker.
“You’ve got a fucking agent?” Grey asked unable to contain her obvious amusement at this news.
“It’s just so I don’t have to deal with fucking editors and shit asking for interviews or whatever, it’s not like I get him much work.”
“No?”
“Well I mean there was that cover of GQ but…” he shrugged.
“You were on the cover of GQ?” she asked.
“No need to sound so fucking surprised, darling!” he protested.
“I’m only surprised you’d agree to do it. Not that they’d ask you. “
“Aye well it took a lot of persuading let me tell you..”
“Have you still got it?” she said a bit too eagerly. “The cover?”
“You’re like the reverse of those perverts that claim they only read Penthouse for the articles, aren’t you? You only want GQ for the fucking pictures.”
She rolled her eyes at his comment, particularly since in this case it was totally true. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“If I find it for you will you stay out of trouble up here until he’s gone?” He paused for a moment, realising how bad that sounded. She’d been here a day and things were already more or less back to normal. “Sorry, it’s just…on top of everything else, you understand, don’t you?”
Grey smiled, closing the space between them and kissing Malcolm for just a second before she grabbed his arse. “Course I do. Now you go and find me the picture and I’ll try really, really hard not to come too loudly, yeah?”
“So?” Grey asked, rolling over towards the doorway when Malcolm reappeared in the bedroom. She hadn’t bothered getting dressed, or out of bed full stop. She was still very much hoping he’d be rejoining her so it didn’t really seem worth it.
“Total waste of fucking time. Can you believe someone wants me to write a fucking children’s book?”
“What kind of parent would buy their kids a book you’d written?” she asked, sitting up.
“A very fucking liberal one?”
Grey raised her eyebrow. “That it?”
“He’s got me a meeting at the BBC, Might be interesting,” he said climbing onto the bed with her, already pulling off his jumper.
“Oh yeah? Something for BBC4? The history of spin or something? I can just see it now, you walking around Whitehall talking directly to camera and gesticulating a lot.”
“BBC3 actually.”
Grey shifted to get a better look at his face, her hopes, or perhaps more accurately, fantasies, fading in front of her. “BBC3? Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re not exactly normal BBC3 material.”
“And what’s that then?”
“Fucking annoying early twenty something presenters and bright colours? It’s all very…youth.”
“Well I said I’d go, and I need to find something to do, don’t I?”
“Straight away?”
“As much as I’d love to be able to just stay in bed with you you know that isn’t really me. I need to get back out there, find something else.”
“You know they’re gonna beg you to come back, Malc.”
“Yeah well let’s just call this Plan B, shall we?”
Still half asleep she pulled herself out of bed and padded down the landing, listening out for any sign of him downstairs. She wasn’t used to this - having two floors to have to find him on, The three rooms in his crashpad had been bad enough. She stood completely still for a few moments, then called his name and got no answer. She tried not to panic, sure she was being ridiculous, this was Malcolm she was talking about, but after the night before...he way he’d been, so fragile. She couldn’t help it.
The bathroom door was closed at the end of the landing, which was admittedly probably nothing, but she walked towards it, completely naked. and paused outside. “Malc?”
Malcolm forced himself to open his eyes, his head resting against the cold tile of the bathroom floor. He really should’ve been able to pull himself together by now. He’d been sure he only needed a minute, that had been over two hours ago. now here she was, outside, saying his name in that anxious way she always tried to hide.
“I’ll just be a minute, darling,” he called back, hoping he didn’t sound nearly as wrecked as he felt.
“You okay?”
“Aye, aye I’m fine just…” he trailed off and swallowed, tears blurring his eyes again. He had Grey, it wasn’t everything, but it was something. He needed to get a grip, focus on sorting this mess out, on making the most of having her in his house, not crying on the fucking bathroom floor like a fucking mental case. “Go back to bed.”
Grey didn’t say anything for a moment. She hated knowing him this well, being able to tell what was going on with him just by his tone of voice. She knew she should do as he’d asked, go back to bed, let him have his privacy, let him crawl back into bed with her when he was ready and not ask any more questions, but fuck too much went unsaid between them.
“Can I come in?” she asked through the door.
Malcolm’s head shot up as he wiped at his face. She couldn’t know he’d been weeping like a little boy, she just couldn’t! “Why the fuck would you want to come in? Got some weird fucking fetish I don’t know about? Christ. just when I thought I knew everything about you there’s this.”
The fact he could still reply like that was a good sign she knew, but not quite good enough.
“Malc,” she sighed, head leaning against the door. She was a bit too tired for this really, but then maybe that was why she was pushing things, she was tired enough to be brave, or maybe foolish. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I know you. I know how important this whole thing is to you, I mean-” She stopped herself instantly, now really wasn’t the time to point out the fact his job had been the reason for their break-up, but it was. She came second to it, she was only here because it wasn’t. “Just let me in, yeah?”
Malcolm hauled himself up and across the bathroom to unlock the door, as the handle was pulled down instantly and she stood there completely naked, just as he was. Only she just looked amazing, tired yes, but just as gorgeous as always. He was fairly sure the same couldn’t be said for him.
She should have just gone back to bed, the moment she saw him she knew that, she could have been curled up in his impossibly fluffy duvet with her eyes closed pretending everything was fine and avoiding the concrete evidence that it wasn’t. She could have fooled herself into thinking that he’d just been taking a piss and then woken up in his arms and gone on like everything was normal, she was really fucking good at that - pretending everything was okay. This though, the sight of him so fucking…wrong was so bad she just felt numb, like the way if you injured yourself badly enough your nerves just cut out so you couldn’t feel any pain, that was how she felt now, just…nothing.
“What?” he snapped.
She looked up at him, trying to work out what to do, she was crap at this, pulling him into bed had always been her best solution when it came to making things better, but she was pretty certain she couldn’t just fuck this whole situation out of his head.
“Nothing to say? Well that’s a fucking turn up for the books,” he said as he pushed past her.
Grey turned surprisingly quickly even to herself and grabbed his wrist. stopping him for walking away. “I fucking love you,” she said, loosening her grip and reaching for his hand instead. “Malc, you know...you know you can talk to me about stuff, yeah? I mean, okay so I’m shit with people crying... But Christ, you know I’d try, for you. I just...fucking hell Malcolm, I don’t want to wake up to you crying in the fucking toilet because you don’t want me to see you, or whatever. I want to help, fuck’s sake, why do you think I’m here?”
“Because you’re a fucking masochist,” he replied, still looking straight ahead, unable to look at her. “What other explanation is there?”
“I’d suggest love but fuck it, we’re both too cynical for that, aren’t we? So I dunno call it desperation, addiction, call it a bit of fucking human kindness, I don’t care what you call it, just fucking talk to me, fucking….fall apart if that’s what you need to do, fuck, Malcolm, do you think anything’s gonna make me think less of you? I wish it fucking would, but after everything, yeah I think that ship’s sailed.”
He couldn’t do this, he just couldn’t. He turned though, facing her and stepping closer, looking at her for a moment. Grey, his fucking girl, even after months he couldn’t help but think of her like that. His rock, the one person he really could say anything to and she’d be worryingly fine with it. Jesus, why had he not made more of an effort? Why had he let the one thing he had for himself, the one good thing get away? Only she hadn’t got away, had she? He’d pushed her away and now she’d come back and he was doing it again! What the fuck was wrong with him?
Suddenly his arms were around her, pulling her close and burying his face in her neck, eyes closed against the tears. “It wasn’t my fault,” he said, the words muffled against her skin. “I wasn’t even fucking there. They force me to take leave, then get that fucking Mario tribute cunt in to watch things and he lets this happen. It’s not my fucking fault!”
She held onto him too tightly really, no idea what else to do. They really weren’t cut out to be in this situation, they were way more about anger and banter and stress, this was completely unchartered territory for them.
“All the time we were together and you never took a week off,” she muttered, “Fuck I wish you’d called me.”
“You didn’t want to hear from me,” he pointed out. “Would’ve been nice though, least I’d’ve got a week of you fucking me before Fleming did.”
“He hasn’t got a fucking leg to stand on, everyone knows you were away when everything went to shit.” She pulled back, touched his face, wiping a tear away from his cheek. “Have you been to sleep yet?”
“You know me, I don’t need sleep.”
“Yeah, right. So let’s just pretend it’s for me, right? Because I’ve missed sleeping next to you, you snoring like a bear cub.”
“Better than you snoring like a fucking dying rhino.”
“Will you just please come back to bed with me, close your eyes. You need to sleep, being knackered really isn’t gonna help anything.”
Grey woke up, Malcolm still beside her in his bed. She wasn’t used to that. She’d never woken up before him all the time they’d been together, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up with him still in bed with her rather than with the weight of his body leaving the bed far too early in the morning. It was nice, which she instantly felt bad for thinking. The circumstances couldn’t have been worse and the fact he was still asleep didn’t really seem like a good sign either. She realised she was staring only when Malcolm stirred and she felt her heart race. She should probably get out of bed really, leave him to sleep, he had at least eight years worth of it to catch up on afterall. The thing was getting out of a bed Malcolm was in went against everything she believed in. Instead she closed her eyes again, shuffling a little bit closer to him.
Malcolm groaned sleeply, pressing back against her as he tried not to think, not to let anything from the day and night before get inside his head. It was no good though it all came flooding back, but then how could it not? He was in bed, without being woken by his alarm when it was still dark out, when Grey was wrapped round him. Grey - everything had turned to utter shit so quickly, but at least Grey was here. Something he was stunned by, after everything that had happened, everything he’d done, or not done rather. But here she was, and fuck he’d never been more thankful for anything. He’d said they’d talk though, but after last night, after she’d caught him in the bathroom...the mere thought of talking about all that made him feel like clawing his skin from his body and vomiting himself inside out.
And then he felt her lips against the nape of his neck and he relaxed.
She wanted to say she could get used to this, because she could, but she knew she’d never have the chance to, or if she would it wouldn’t be for years. It was better not to even think about it, just enjoy it for what it was, one morning in bed with him for the first time in well over a year. Instead she didn’t say anything, just wrapped herself a bit more tightly around him, let her teeth scrape lightly against his skin, And fuck, maybe that wasn’t even a good idea after last night. She didn’t want him thinking she was only after him for sex after all, even if she had really, really missed that.
Malcolm allowed himself to relax against her, his arm slipping over hers as they lay there in blissful silence. This was Grey, yeah there were certain things that she’d push, but there were also things she wouldn’t. That was just kind of the deal with them, they knew what they could and couldn’t talk about, and she wouldn’t make him talk about the fact he’d been weeping on the bathroom floor or any of that, she knew him too well for that.
“So,” she said after a while. “Can I keep you to myself another day? Cos I’ve gotta say I’m loving this whole having you naked and in bed thing.”
Naked but not actually doing anything, another thing they were decidedly not fucking mentioning, thank god. Although in fairness he did have a few totally legitimate reasons for not being able to get it up, and honestly he was almost pissed off she wasn’t even giving him the chance to tell her them.
“Maybe, if you’re good,” he replied, reaching down for her leg. Okay so he couldn’t get it up right now, but so fucking what? He still had fingers and a fucking tongue, didn’t he? There was absolutely no reason he couldn’t still show her a very good time, remind her of what she’d been missing these past couple of months.
“Oh well guess I’ve got no chance then,” she replied, angling herself closer against him as his hand moved higher.
And then his phone rang.
“Would you mind staying up here for a wee while, darling?” Malcolm asked when he came back. “And keeping it really fucking quiet?”
Grey raised an eyebrow at him. “Is your other girlfriend coming round, Malcolm? Boyfriend? Mum?”
“Just a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends,” she reminded him. “Come on, be honest, who is it?”
Malcolm dipped his head chewing his lip.
“Okay you’re freaking me out now, who the fuck is it?”
“He’s just…y’know a man that handles some of my affairs?”
“You gonna sue those pricks for unfair dismissal?”
“Not those kinds of affairs, more…business I guess you could say. He handles…” his nose wrinkled and he scratched the back of his head. “He handles my media appearances,” he admitted, feeling like a total wanker.
“You’ve got a fucking agent?” Grey asked unable to contain her obvious amusement at this news.
“It’s just so I don’t have to deal with fucking editors and shit asking for interviews or whatever, it’s not like I get him much work.”
“No?”
“Well I mean there was that cover of GQ but…” he shrugged.
“You were on the cover of GQ?” she asked.
“No need to sound so fucking surprised, darling!” he protested.
“I’m only surprised you’d agree to do it. Not that they’d ask you. “
“Aye well it took a lot of persuading let me tell you..”
“Have you still got it?” she said a bit too eagerly. “The cover?”
“You’re like the reverse of those perverts that claim they only read Penthouse for the articles, aren’t you? You only want GQ for the fucking pictures.”
She rolled her eyes at his comment, particularly since in this case it was totally true. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“If I find it for you will you stay out of trouble up here until he’s gone?” He paused for a moment, realising how bad that sounded. She’d been here a day and things were already more or less back to normal. “Sorry, it’s just…on top of everything else, you understand, don’t you?”
Grey smiled, closing the space between them and kissing Malcolm for just a second before she grabbed his arse. “Course I do. Now you go and find me the picture and I’ll try really, really hard not to come too loudly, yeah?”
“So?” Grey asked, rolling over towards the doorway when Malcolm reappeared in the bedroom. She hadn’t bothered getting dressed, or out of bed full stop. She was still very much hoping he’d be rejoining her so it didn’t really seem worth it.
“Total waste of fucking time. Can you believe someone wants me to write a fucking children’s book?”
“What kind of parent would buy their kids a book you’d written?” she asked, sitting up.
“A very fucking liberal one?”
Grey raised her eyebrow. “That it?”
“He’s got me a meeting at the BBC, Might be interesting,” he said climbing onto the bed with her, already pulling off his jumper.
“Oh yeah? Something for BBC4? The history of spin or something? I can just see it now, you walking around Whitehall talking directly to camera and gesticulating a lot.”
“BBC3 actually.”
Grey shifted to get a better look at his face, her hopes, or perhaps more accurately, fantasies, fading in front of her. “BBC3? Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re not exactly normal BBC3 material.”
“And what’s that then?”
“Fucking annoying early twenty something presenters and bright colours? It’s all very…youth.”
“Well I said I’d go, and I need to find something to do, don’t I?”
“Straight away?”
“As much as I’d love to be able to just stay in bed with you you know that isn’t really me. I need to get back out there, find something else.”
“You know they’re gonna beg you to come back, Malc.”
“Yeah well let’s just call this Plan B, shall we?”