Rodin, Rotten, Jones & Us – Chapter 6 & 7 – A Novel of London Romance, Punk Rock and French Girls From Brest By Holly Homan

Chapter Six

I groaned. “Who is it?” I yelled without rising.

“British Telecom,” came a muffled voice.

Keith looked relieved, grabbed a cigarette from atop the dresser and lit it before leaving the bedroom.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” I heard a man’s voice say.

“Yeah, I work late nights. What can I do for you? I thought to activate the phone you just flipped a switch somewhere.”

“Ordinarily, but the landlady informed us of internal problems in the unit. I assumed she told you I’d be by.”

“Well, she didn’t, but since you’re here, you might as well go at it.”

Keith returned carrying an ashtray, and sat next to me. “Sorry, luv, it’s B.T.”

“I heard,” I yawned, sitting up.

Keith put his cigarette out, setting the ashtray on the dresser. “I guess I’m awake. I have things to do before going to the recording session. You want to come?”

“I’ll stay,” I said. “I need more beauty sleep.” I pulled the sheets back on and closed my eyes.

I woke to the sounds of the city wafting through the open window and sat up to shake the sleep from my body. The missing cigarettes from atop the dresser reminded me Keith had left. I threw on a sun frock and ventured out to the nearest phone box to call my parents.

This time my father answered. “We have been trying to reach you, ma cherie. We spoke with Aimee this morning, but she said you stepped out.”

“I was at one of Keith’s shows last night.”

“That’s the lad you’ve been seeing, isn’t it?”

“Yes, for the hundredth time.”

“You know, I have remained mostly silent about your relationship with this lad, but I think you are too involved.”

I groaned. I thought my father would be more supportive. I held my tongue. “Don’t worry. We barely saw each other since Paques because school kept me so busy. I haven’t neglected my studies.”

“I am glad for that. Are you both coming down?”

“Yes, that’s why I rang. We’ll come Wednesday –- only one night, though. Keith has performances Friday through Sunday.”

“We are anxious to meet him. I guess we will see you soon.”

I hung up. I always found it easier talking with my father, but this time felt disappointed he wasn’t keen on my relationship with Keith.

I went to the bakery for a sticky bun and returned to the flat. After managing an hour of illustrations, I needed a break. Maybe I could find Keith’s missing guitar strings. I rummaged through some boxes. One had sheets with hand scrawled music notes and some spiral notebooks filled with song lyrics. I dug further. There was something wedged at the bottom. I pulled out a small paper bag and voila! There were the guitar strings and several picks. I reached further in case there were more and felt a couple small plastic bags. I pulled them out and gasped at what I saw.

Chapter Seven

The contents of one bag looked like marijuana –- the other, half-filled with pills. I felt a sudden weight in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to go to the bedroom, crawl under the blankets and stay there. Another part of me wanted to walk out the door. Keith promised he wouldn’t use drugs any more. Didn’t that night I made him swear mean anything? I flopped on the sofa. Has he been using behind my back? Was he out scoring drugs now?

It was nearly eleven when Keith returned.

“Hi, luv.” He greeted me with a kiss.

I was trying to be cool, but inside I was shaking.

He pulled some comestibles from a bag. “I brought some fish and chips.”

I accepted the bounty. “I used the phone box on the corner to ring my parents. Everything’s set for us to come Wednesday.”

I wonder if this trip is a good idea after all. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and produced the bag. “I was looking for your guitar strings and found this.”

I studied his expression, but it didn’t reveal anything.

“I don’t know where it came from, honest.” He sounded sincere.

“Well I found it with your songs and guitar strings.”

“I was storing old songs in a box at my old flat. It was stashed in a cupboard I seldom used.”

I so wanted to believe him. “Are you being honest?”

He caressed me. “I’m not using drugs aside from smoking a bit of weed before shows. I promise. You can search this entire flat if you like.”

I looked at the floor.

“You believe me, don’t you, luv?”

“I want to more than anything. I’m furious you’re smoking marijuana. You promised that night we first made love. Didn’t that mean anything to you?”

“It meant everything. You mean everything. But sharing a bit of weed with my mates is no big deal. I do nothing heavy. You must trust me.”

I looked at him. “I couldn’t bear it if our relationship was destroyed by drugs.”

“It won’t happen, luv.”

I sighed. “I’m going back to my place. I promised Aimee we’d spend tomorrow celebrating the end of our first year. She leaves for France right after.”

“Can I give you a lift?”

I accepted his offer, though we said little in the car. I wasn’t sure anything Keith said would help anyway. He pulled up to the bedsit and leaned over to kiss me. “Ring me if you need a lift.”

I left the car without saying anything. I felt miserable and didn’t know what to do

“There you are. I wondered if perhaps you’d forsaken me.” Aimee’s sarcasm disappeared when she saw my face. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” I burst into tears. “I think Keith’s using drugs. He used to take pills, but he promised he quit. Then I found a stash in his flat today. He swore it was old and he forgot about it. I don’t know what to do.”

Aimee sat next to me on my bed and put her arm around me. “I’m sorry. I was hoping things would work out for you two. Will you break up with him?”

“I don’t want to. I’m in love with him. But I can’t watch him destroy himself.”

“He seems to care about you, but you can’t be involved with someone using drugs.”

“I know, but he’s trying to forget a sordid past.”

Aimee looked at me, her brown eyes widened. I explained Keith’s childhood.

“Pauvre jeune homme,” Aimee said, shaking her head.

I dried my tears. “I suppose I should return and talk to him.”

“I think you should stay here awhile. It will give him something to think about.”

Aimee was right. I spent the night at my place and had Aimee say I wasn’t home when Keith called. We spent the day doing girl things, but then Aimee left for France and I returned to Keith’s.

He looked relieved to see me, so I guessed he was running scared. He greeted me with a big hug, but I didn’t reciprocate. “I’m glad you came back.”

“You’re not off the hook,” was all I could say.

“I’m headed to Ryan’s for practice. You wanta come?”

“I guess,” I agreed. “I haven’t seen Louisa in awhile.” Now he acted as if nothing happened.

“To hell with practice. Let’s shag instead.” With a devilish grin, he began unbuttoning the tiny buttons on the front of my frock.

I pushed him away. “We’d best get going.”

He looked frustrated, but said nothing.

We reached Ryan’s. Louisa greeted me with a big hug. “Brigitte, darling, it’s lovely to see you again. Keith, before you go downstairs, your father called. He says he rang your flat, but the number was disconnected.”

Keith’s jubilant expression changed to one of dread. “Did you tell him to piss off?”

“I told him you moved, but I didn’t know your new address or number.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you so you won’t be tempted to tell him.”

“How long will you keep punishing him?”

“Let’s see . . . ” He pretended to count on his fingers. “He was absent from my life 11 years, made it a living hell the next five . . . so when I’m about 32.”

Louisa sighed. “Go downstairs. Everyone’s waiting.”

Louisa hugged me again. “How are you, dear? I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“Oh, I’ve been great. I scarcely believe I finished my first year at the academy.”

“So where’s Keith’s new flat? Why did he move?”

“He dropped out of the academy. His old flat is only for students.”

“Hold on, luv. Keith dropped out of the academy?”

Illustration by Christina Dominguez-Starling
“He wants to play punk full time.” I sat at the kitchen table. “I am so madly in love with him, but he might be using drugs again.” I again burst into tears.

Louisa came over and put a comforting arm around me. “There, dear, what makes you think so?”

I told her what I found –- how Keith swore he wasn’t using.

She sat across from me. “Well, love, every relationship is built on trust. He used to be moody and sometimes morose. He isn’t now so I assumed he cleaned up his act. He could be being honest with you.”

I shrugged. “How well do you know his parents?”

Louisa went to put a kettle on. “His mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after Keith was taken from her. His father felt his responsibility was providing the family with a comfortable income. He did that very well. They’re both sorry for their mistakes, but Keith’s very bitter.”

“I can’t blame him,” I said. “Is it true his father forbid you to have contact with him?”

Louisa sighed as she returned to the table. “Yes and that nearly killed us. He realized his mistake shortly after and rescinded. However, the court never notified us and it was nearly a year before we found out. I’m sorry Keith had to spend so much time at the youth center. That’s where he met that Ian chap. He wasn’t a good influence on Keith or Ryan.”

“But Ian taught him guitar and gave him confidence.”

Louisa took the kettle off and poured the contents into a teapot. “He also introduced him to drugs.”

“If Ian hadn’t, someone else would and he wouldn’t be the gifted guitar player he is.”

“He plays piano so beautifully, though. When he lived here he played every day. It was like having a professional concert pianist in the house. I have nothing against rock music, but his tutors were encouraging him to audition for the symphony. He’s that gifted.”

“If you disapprove of his career in rock music, why do you let them practice here?”

“I don’t disapprove. I’m disappointed he dropped out of the academy. His father pressured him to give up being a rock musician and didn’t like us allowing the band to practice here. But it kept them off the streets, and kept Keith in our lives. Maybe you two should spend a few days apart. You’re constantly together.”

“I’m tired of hearing that. My Parents say I’m too young to be serious with someone.”

“To them you’re their baby girl. You’ll understand that when you’re a mother.”

Practice lasted three hours. I felt better after talking with Louisa. My parents would approve of Keith once they saw how happy we were, and Louisa knew Keith better than anyone so I trusted her judgment Keith wasn’t using drugs.

Holly Homan

[To be continued… Click here to view all chapters.]