BOLD AS BRASS By Tony Sussex
There was a brass band playing in the Square outside the new theatre on the afternoon that James lost his virginity. It was a Saturday, and it had been raining all day, but as the band started to play an old Abba tune, the sun came out and the umbrellas went down.
The atmosphere changed almost immediately. One or two people even started to sway in time to the music, which of course ensured that they would get a space all of their own. This was England after all, where public displays of emotion aren’t encouraged.
James was watching all this from the window of a coffee shop. He found the antics of a little rotund man in bright orange shorts particularly amusing. He was dancing, as the old saying goes, like there was nobody watching. Although James could hear the music drifting in through the open door of the café it was impossible for him to make out any of the conversations going on between the spectators. But he caught the mood, the atmosphere.
Sitting across from James was a girl with her nose in a book. She wore a tan jumper and black jeans, and her hair fell forward over her face as she bent her head down to read. He couldn’t make out her features from this angle, but he got the sense that she was roughly the same age as him. He noticed that she wasn’t wearing any jewellery; no earrings, necklaces, rings. The coffee cup in front of her was empty.
The band outside hit a big finish and the crowd started to clap and cheer. For the first time, the girl looked up to see what all the noise was about. It was, James thought, almost as if she had been suddenly awoken from a deep sleep. She seemed confused, until she noticed James looking at her. After a second or so, she decided it would be OK to smile at him. He was struck by her startling green eyes.
“Did that make you jump?” James asked. Her smile broadened.
“A bit, yeh.” Her smile was quite captivating.
“What are you reading? It looks good.”
“How do you know it’s good?” A twinkle in her eye gave her away. She wasn’t being rude, she was just flirting with him. He decided to play her at her own game. He could flirt, in fact he thought he was good at it. It was when it came to taking it further that he always managed to mess things up.
“Well, I’ve been watching you. You haven’t lifted your nose out of it for at least ten minutes. I’ve been waiting to join in the dancing outside, but as I don’t have anyone to do that with I thought I would wait until you were ready so I could ask you. But even my heaviest “look-at-me” stare hasn’t worked this time, and that’s usually so reliable.”
She looked at him weighing him up. James thought she must have known that he wasn’t being serious, given his appearance, but she surprised him.
“Come on then. Let’s dance.”
James immediately had second thoughts. This had never happened before, girls always turned him down.
“What about your book?”
“Oh, I can read that anytime. It’s not often I get a chance to dance in the street to a brass band version of Dancing Queen!” And before he could think, she’d grabbed his hand and was leading him out into the sunshine.
The music took over.
“Who’d have thought it,” pondered James, as they began to move in time to the beat. Not only was he dancing to a brass band, but it was in the street, and with a real life girl. A stranger. A very likeable, attractive girl. If his friends could see him now….
It was all going so well, she even took his hands at one point and tried to swing him round. “She’s very forward, this girl,” he thought. “I hope she’s not going to be a problem.” He allowed himself to relax a bit and stopped regretting his decision to ask her. He began to enjoy the sensation of her hands around his fingers, along with the sound of the trumpets (or whatever they were – he wasn’t musical at all), and the way she giggled at it all. He began to think that perhaps his partner had been drinking.
And then she tripped. One second she was laughing, then she was stumbling away from him with a sudden look of panic on her face. A group of lads who were standing nearby gave an ironic cheer as she landed on the pavement with her arms out in front of her. James rushed to her to make sure she was OK.
“God, now I feel like a complete idiot,” she told him as she picked herself up.
“Don’t, don’t. As long as you’re not hurt, that’s all.” They had attracted attention of course. Although the band was manfully playing on as if nothing had happened, they had for now at least lost the interest of the crowd in favour of the woman who was desperately trying to recover some dignity.
“Look, I think as this is chiefly my fault – I did ask you to dance, remember? – the least I can do is to buy you a drink. What do you say?” She looked at him and smiled. “That’d be lovely,” she replied, a little too eagerly, he thought.
They walked over to the pub in the corner of the square, the girl refusing James’ offer of assistance. Inside, they found a table in the corner and sat down with two large glasses of red wine.
“Most guys I know drink pints.”
“Well, to be honest with you, I’ve never really been into that whole macho culture thing, y’know? And besides, it gives me indigestion.” He hated it when the conversation turned to this. Perhaps she picked that up, for there was a lull in the conversation, the first one of the afternoon.
She looked around the bar, taking all the details in; the chrome and glass tables and chairs, the dark blue carpet, the black walls and soft lighting. The pictures of – dancers, were they? – on the walls. It was fairly full, probably because of the bands playing nearby, and there was a cross-section of people in. Couples with kids, an older man sitting on his own, writing something in a notebook. And a couple of boys in the corner, sitting very close together, hair styled and streaked, skinny jeans, pixie boots.
James followed her stare and noticed them too. She leaned forward, as if she was going to tell him a secret.
“Do you think they’re gay?” she asked, indicating with her eyebrows.
“Maybe. But this is a gay bar, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised.” The girl’s eyes lit up at the mention of a gay bar.
“Is it?! How do you know?” She looked furtively around her as if she was on a spying mission and had just landed in enemy territory. She’d never been in a place like this and she was genuinely intrigued.
“You’re not local, are you?” She shook her head. “I thought so. If you were, you would know that this is the only gay bar in town. It has a reputation.”
“What, cheap and seedy, that sort of thing?” There it was, the same old nonsense. James was suddenly affronted. He snapped at her.
“No! Why do people always think that? I meant it has a good reputation! It’s somewhere that gay people can meet without the threat of having their lights punched out by bigots who make that sort of remark all the time. So it’s not “seedy.” It’s not “cheap.” And I happen to like it here.”
She blinked. Then raised her eyebrows and blew out a long sigh, before folding her arms and sitting back in her chair to give him a long, hard look.
“Look, I’m sorry, OK? I didn’t mean any offence. I thought you’d just laugh.”
“Yes, well, some of my friends are gay and they hate that sort of comment. I get offended on their behalf sometimes.”
“Look, thanks for the dance, it was lovely, but I have to go now. I have a train to catch. And to be honest, I’m embarrassed. If I’d known you were gay, I wouldn’t have said such a thing.” James blinked at her. How did she know? He thought he’d hidden it quite well. After all, he was well practiced at concealing it. Even his parents didn’t know – at least he believed that.
She stood up to go, and before he could react, she bent down to kiss him on the cheek, and was gone.
And suddenly, he was alone. In a gay bar. With two glasses of wine in front of him.
He picked up a glass and looked around. There were a few gay couples in, he liked being here and seeing how they can relax here. He could never do that. How jealous he was.
He was halfway through the girl’s glass of wine, and was beginning to glow a little, when the young man in jeans and a tan tee shirt approached his table. James noticed his green eyes, and his floppy, dark hair.
Outside, the band played on.
The man gave him a warm smile.
“Would you like to dance?”
Copyright Tony Sussex 2011
http://www.feedbooks.com/userbook/22499/bold-as-brass to download to kindle / iPhone etc
The atmosphere changed almost immediately. One or two people even started to sway in time to the music, which of course ensured that they would get a space all of their own. This was England after all, where public displays of emotion aren’t encouraged.
James was watching all this from the window of a coffee shop. He found the antics of a little rotund man in bright orange shorts particularly amusing. He was dancing, as the old saying goes, like there was nobody watching. Although James could hear the music drifting in through the open door of the café it was impossible for him to make out any of the conversations going on between the spectators. But he caught the mood, the atmosphere.
Sitting across from James was a girl with her nose in a book. She wore a tan jumper and black jeans, and her hair fell forward over her face as she bent her head down to read. He couldn’t make out her features from this angle, but he got the sense that she was roughly the same age as him. He noticed that she wasn’t wearing any jewellery; no earrings, necklaces, rings. The coffee cup in front of her was empty.
The band outside hit a big finish and the crowd started to clap and cheer. For the first time, the girl looked up to see what all the noise was about. It was, James thought, almost as if she had been suddenly awoken from a deep sleep. She seemed confused, until she noticed James looking at her. After a second or so, she decided it would be OK to smile at him. He was struck by her startling green eyes.
“Did that make you jump?” James asked. Her smile broadened.
“A bit, yeh.” Her smile was quite captivating.
“What are you reading? It looks good.”
“How do you know it’s good?” A twinkle in her eye gave her away. She wasn’t being rude, she was just flirting with him. He decided to play her at her own game. He could flirt, in fact he thought he was good at it. It was when it came to taking it further that he always managed to mess things up.
“Well, I’ve been watching you. You haven’t lifted your nose out of it for at least ten minutes. I’ve been waiting to join in the dancing outside, but as I don’t have anyone to do that with I thought I would wait until you were ready so I could ask you. But even my heaviest “look-at-me” stare hasn’t worked this time, and that’s usually so reliable.”
She looked at him weighing him up. James thought she must have known that he wasn’t being serious, given his appearance, but she surprised him.
“Come on then. Let’s dance.”
James immediately had second thoughts. This had never happened before, girls always turned him down.
“What about your book?”
“Oh, I can read that anytime. It’s not often I get a chance to dance in the street to a brass band version of Dancing Queen!” And before he could think, she’d grabbed his hand and was leading him out into the sunshine.
The music took over.
“Who’d have thought it,” pondered James, as they began to move in time to the beat. Not only was he dancing to a brass band, but it was in the street, and with a real life girl. A stranger. A very likeable, attractive girl. If his friends could see him now….
It was all going so well, she even took his hands at one point and tried to swing him round. “She’s very forward, this girl,” he thought. “I hope she’s not going to be a problem.” He allowed himself to relax a bit and stopped regretting his decision to ask her. He began to enjoy the sensation of her hands around his fingers, along with the sound of the trumpets (or whatever they were – he wasn’t musical at all), and the way she giggled at it all. He began to think that perhaps his partner had been drinking.
And then she tripped. One second she was laughing, then she was stumbling away from him with a sudden look of panic on her face. A group of lads who were standing nearby gave an ironic cheer as she landed on the pavement with her arms out in front of her. James rushed to her to make sure she was OK.
“God, now I feel like a complete idiot,” she told him as she picked herself up.
“Don’t, don’t. As long as you’re not hurt, that’s all.” They had attracted attention of course. Although the band was manfully playing on as if nothing had happened, they had for now at least lost the interest of the crowd in favour of the woman who was desperately trying to recover some dignity.
“Look, I think as this is chiefly my fault – I did ask you to dance, remember? – the least I can do is to buy you a drink. What do you say?” She looked at him and smiled. “That’d be lovely,” she replied, a little too eagerly, he thought.
They walked over to the pub in the corner of the square, the girl refusing James’ offer of assistance. Inside, they found a table in the corner and sat down with two large glasses of red wine.
“Most guys I know drink pints.”
“Well, to be honest with you, I’ve never really been into that whole macho culture thing, y’know? And besides, it gives me indigestion.” He hated it when the conversation turned to this. Perhaps she picked that up, for there was a lull in the conversation, the first one of the afternoon.
She looked around the bar, taking all the details in; the chrome and glass tables and chairs, the dark blue carpet, the black walls and soft lighting. The pictures of – dancers, were they? – on the walls. It was fairly full, probably because of the bands playing nearby, and there was a cross-section of people in. Couples with kids, an older man sitting on his own, writing something in a notebook. And a couple of boys in the corner, sitting very close together, hair styled and streaked, skinny jeans, pixie boots.
James followed her stare and noticed them too. She leaned forward, as if she was going to tell him a secret.
“Do you think they’re gay?” she asked, indicating with her eyebrows.
“Maybe. But this is a gay bar, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised.” The girl’s eyes lit up at the mention of a gay bar.
“Is it?! How do you know?” She looked furtively around her as if she was on a spying mission and had just landed in enemy territory. She’d never been in a place like this and she was genuinely intrigued.
“You’re not local, are you?” She shook her head. “I thought so. If you were, you would know that this is the only gay bar in town. It has a reputation.”
“What, cheap and seedy, that sort of thing?” There it was, the same old nonsense. James was suddenly affronted. He snapped at her.
“No! Why do people always think that? I meant it has a good reputation! It’s somewhere that gay people can meet without the threat of having their lights punched out by bigots who make that sort of remark all the time. So it’s not “seedy.” It’s not “cheap.” And I happen to like it here.”
She blinked. Then raised her eyebrows and blew out a long sigh, before folding her arms and sitting back in her chair to give him a long, hard look.
“Look, I’m sorry, OK? I didn’t mean any offence. I thought you’d just laugh.”
“Yes, well, some of my friends are gay and they hate that sort of comment. I get offended on their behalf sometimes.”
“Look, thanks for the dance, it was lovely, but I have to go now. I have a train to catch. And to be honest, I’m embarrassed. If I’d known you were gay, I wouldn’t have said such a thing.” James blinked at her. How did she know? He thought he’d hidden it quite well. After all, he was well practiced at concealing it. Even his parents didn’t know – at least he believed that.
She stood up to go, and before he could react, she bent down to kiss him on the cheek, and was gone.
And suddenly, he was alone. In a gay bar. With two glasses of wine in front of him.
He picked up a glass and looked around. There were a few gay couples in, he liked being here and seeing how they can relax here. He could never do that. How jealous he was.
He was halfway through the girl’s glass of wine, and was beginning to glow a little, when the young man in jeans and a tan tee shirt approached his table. James noticed his green eyes, and his floppy, dark hair.
Outside, the band played on.
The man gave him a warm smile.
“Would you like to dance?”
Copyright Tony Sussex 2011
http://www.feedbooks.com/userbook/22499/bold-as-brass to download to kindle / iPhone etc