English Rose - liam gallagher fic

3. shake along with me

Liam had sent himself off in a taxi about 1, and then about 3 the next day I got an unexpected phone call from him.

"Hello?"

"Alright it's Liam."

"Alright mate, how's you doing? Are you hanging?"

"Yeah, proper bad, but dya want to come to the pub? We'll have that drink now?" He asked, and I laughed as he also conformed to the traditional mantra that I often referred to: "The best cure for a hangover is to drink more."

"Yeah alright, where dya want to go?"

"Get the bus to mine or somet in a bit and we'll go to me local," he said.

"Right yeah, where d'ya live?"

"Are you writing it down? cos obviously I can't ring you when you're out," he said and I looked around my room for a pen and my notebook. Which I now couldn't find as Liam and I were drunkenly trying to make paper aeroplanes last night, or that's the conclusion I came to when I saw the pile of folded paper that vaguely resembles what a paper aeroplane should look like.

"Yeah hold on a sec, I need to find some paper," I put the receiver down on my bed and ran around the house looking for something to write on. Eventually I found an empty opened envelope and ran back upstairs with it clutched in my hand. "I'm back, what's you're address?"

"34 Ashburn Avenue in Burnage."

"Alright, I sort of know where that is, which stop am I going to?" I told him, as my uncle lived in around the same area.

"Go to Shawbrook Road, but just come round whenever you're ready," he said and we ended the conversation.

I looked at myself in my pyjamas that I hadn't changed from since I woke up, and changed into a white slip dress that I'd left on the floor after I'd discarded of it the other day, deciding I didn't want to wear it that day, and threw on my black Harrington jacket on, shoving the envelope with Liam's address into the pocket. I picked up my Queen Is Dead tote bag and added my purse and a 20 pack of tabs to the waves of miscellany sitting at the bottom, and walked out of the front door after putting on my burgundy Dr Martens boots.

The bus stop was only about a 5 minute walk away from my house, and I knew the bus that took me into Burnage wasn't due for about 10 minutes.

As I reached the bus shelter, I waited patiently and reached into my bag to pull out my box of cigarettes. I pulled one out of the box and rummaged around further into my bag amongst the sea of shite, and groaned as I realised I'd forgot my lighter.

I looked around to see if there was anyone I could ask, but conveniently, it was deserted. It could've easily been mistaken as a ghost town, with me, a minute entity, dossing about on my own.

The bus pulled up and I got my bus pass out of my bag. The journey wasn't long, so I pulled out my Walkman that my dad had given me for my birthday, and managed to listen to a few songs from David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust & the Spiders from Mars.

I know a few people who live in Burnage, whom I met at college, so I wasn't completely lost when I got off the bus. Apart from the fact that I pressed the button a stop too early, and therefore I had to get off.

"Fuck sake man," I said to myself as I stepped off the bus and looked around. The bus started moving again, and so I just started walking in the same direction. I was fucking choking for a tab.

Eventually, I found myself on Shawbrook Road and assumed I'd just have to walk down. And I assumed correctly as one of the first turnoffs, thankfully, was Ashburn Avenue.

Once I had finally found Liam's house, I knocked on the door and it opened to reveal a middle aged woman with short dark hair and an Irish accent.