Lady Jane

Newlands

In the train, Keith showed us his guitar.

-Do you play it? - He asked Michael.

-Yes, a little. I'm better singing, I guess.

-Really? - I asked, surprised.

-Yeah... I sing in a band with some friends - He said, shamefaced - It's not serious, you know, we only have fun.

-What's the name of it? - Keith wanted to know.

-Little Boy Blue and The Blue Boys - he chuckled shyly - I know the name is not that good but it doesn't matter. As I said, it's not a serious band at all.

-Wait - Keith faced him - You play with Dick Taylor?

-Yes I do. He is our guitarist. Why?

-Man, he is from my class in Sidcup Art College! I knew about his band, but I didn't know you were part of it!

When the train stopped, we didn't have to walk that much until we arrive at Michael's house - very beautiful and big, by the way. It wasn't only in the Wilmington suburb but in a upper middle class enclave within it, called The Close. The house had a circular driveway, arched windows and I guess it had about 1000 square meters of well cared grass. It had even a name - Newlands - which was written on a sign hanging on a branch of the apple tree that gave shade to the front porch. He opened the door and told us:

-You can sit there, I'm going to make the tea.

Before he goes to the kitchen, he placed the records he was carrying on the living room table, picked up the Rockin' at the Hops one and it began to play. It was the first time for the three listening to that album, as it was new and just arrived by the mail. The kitchen was very close to the living room so we could talk to Mike even if he was there.

-So, Jane - He said from the kitchen - You didn't tell us what you study.

-Oh, I study English.

-Now I understand why you're carrying a book - Keith said about the T.S. Eliot book, still in my hands.

-English was the best alternative I found that satisfied my father and pleased me. He wouldn't let me study arts or something like that. Of course he wanted me to be a nurse or just a regular wife kind of thing... But I can't imagine myself doing this for the rest of my life.

-You imagine yourself writing books until you die? - Keith laughed.

-I don't know, I don't think so. But it's not only about writing books, there's a lot more; Although I plan to write one. But it's also about writing poems, scripts, songs lyrics.

-Do you write songs? - Michael asked me.

-Sometimes... You wouldn't like it.

-You could show us one - Keith insisted.

-Some day, maybe.

-Jane! - Mike yelled - Can you come here and help me with the tea?

-Sure! - I got up and walked to the kitchen.

-I think it needs more water. What do you think?

Really? He called me for this?

-Yeah, I think you should add more.

-Can you get the water while I get the cups?

I nodded and got a glass of water. Mike turned to get the glass and accidentally dropped it, wetting me and forming a large puddle on the kitchen floor.

-Oh God! I'm sorry! Don't worry, I'll help you.

-Is everything okay over there? - Keith yelled from the living room.

-Yes, it is! We just dropped a glass of water!

-I think you should get a towel to dry the floor - I told him - I mean we can't use the dish one to do it, right?

-It won't be necessary.

Michael started to pull his shirt off. His body was thin, but a little strong at the same time. I remember that his father was an exercise fanatic. His body was, for sure, result of this. I could see his ribs as he stretched to take his shirt off. I felt ashamed to be looking at it and looked away before he saw.

He knelt down and began to scrub the floor.

-I'll help - I knelt - It's my fault too.

We were facing each other, sharing a single shirt as floor cloth, rubbing it against the floor and our hands touched each other. And there I was, kneeling on the kitchen floor of Michael Jagger's house so close to him I could feel his breath on my face, as he should be feeling mine. Suddenly I was looking at his beautiful blue eyes, with our noses almost touching; and there I realized that one of his eyes was a little brown.

-Your eyes.

-What? - He whispered.

-I like it. - He looked down and smiled sweetly.

-I'm all wet - I said, standing up.

-Are you wearing something underneath the sweater? - I nodded - You can take the sweater off if you want.

He said I could sit in the countertop if I wanted to and I did it. I took my sweater off and stayed only with a thin white tank top, what made me feel very embarrassed. He picked up the dish towel.

-I guess we can use it now. - He laughed.

Michael was facing me, and started to dry me with the towel, moving it softly over my body. As the shirt was thin, and also the towel , I could feel the motion of his hands on me while he looked at me - sometimes not in the eyes - and smiled.

Suddenly, Keith opened the door and saw me sitting on the countertop, wearing only a skirt and an almost transparent tank top while Michael was moving his hands on my body. He stood there, wordless.

-I-I just came here to see if you needed help or something, you were taking too long... - He said awkwardly - I didn't want to disturb.

-What? - Michael got his hands off of me - we just dropped a glass of water, and...

-I see - Keith smiled and left the kitchen.

I felt so embarrassed. Michael also didn't look very comfortable, but didn't resist and laughed. It made me laugh too. We left the kitchen and got into the living room, where Keith was. I was using the towel to cover me, because I do not feel comfortable with this tank top.

-I'm going to get a shirt for me - Mike said, he was still shirtless - and one for you. Unless you want to go home wearing this - he laughed.

Keith and I stayed quiet until Mike come back dressed, with a shirt in his hands. He handed it to me, and I put it on over the one I was wearing.

-We could go out somewhere on Friday - Michael told us - then Jane could bring me back the shirt.

-Friday is my birthday... - I said shyly.

-One more reason to go! Where's the party?

-Party? - I laughed - I don't make parties. I was going to make a cake or something. I have practically no friends.

-Now you have. - Michael smiled. - Forget the cake. Let's go somewhere. What about Carousel club?

-Man, it would be awesome! - Keith said - I always wanted to go to one of those clubs, but I never did.

-Really? - Michael looked surprised - I go there every Saturday morning with my friends. What do you think, Jane? - I nodded, smiling - Okay, so it's official. Friday at 6 o'clock, I'll pick you two at your houses.

In the remaining time, we listened to the other record - The best of Muddy Waters - and ate some cookies. Time passed too fast, until it was the time our classes should end, which means it was time to go. Keith and I said bye to Mike and got a train back home. In the train I felt ashamed for what happened in the kitchen. I wonder what Keith should be thinking.

-

Author's note: I'm so sorry, it's awful. I felt insecure about this chapter, but anyway I hope you like it. Sorry for the late updating, I'm probably posting a lot more in december. I'm also sorry if I made any mistake, I'm actually brazilian.