"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were in a band," Robin said without looking up from her sketchbook, earning a small laugh from Stuart who sat across from her, working on his own canvas. "And don't say that it never came up in conversation,"
"Well it didn't though really, did it Rob?" Stuart said with a smirk and a shrug. "I'm no good anyway. I'm just bass because John made me join, though I think Paul'd be more than happy if I dropped out,"
It was Friday, and college had finished early for the weekend. Everyone had rushed home, ready to get out of lessons especially while the weather was still abnormally nice, but Robin wasn't in any hurry. She had plenty of work to be getting on with and didn't really fancy doing it at home where her mother could easily interrupt her. Her Uncle Albert seemed great when it came to giving Robin her own space, but her mother not so much, which only seemed to help her relationship with her uncle. He reminded Robin of her father, the way he was patiently kind with her, making sure she knew he was there but not insistent in his presence, and he seemed to understand Robin didn't always want her mother hanging over her, even if it was with the best intentions occasionally. That was why when he offered her a lift home from college if she ever wanted to stay late, she accepted, and so there she was, spreading all of her stuff out across one of the classrooms, trying to get on with her work in peace that she didn't normally get either at home or at college.
Except Stuart had the same idea as her. That was the good part of her friendship with him, his priority being his art rather than music or pissing about like John. Whilst John headed straight for the bus back home, his guitar over his shoulder as always, Robin left him in search of an empty classroom, but instead found Stuart already working in the first one she looked in. In the last few weeks she'd found he was good to work with, so she set up her stuff on a table across from his and the two got to work silently, until Robin finally decided to bring up what was meant to be happening that night, that being his and John's band playing a gig at a local club.
"Paul's the one who came to college the other day, who're the others?" she asked with a small frown, deciding that from what she knew she liked Paul; John clearly trusted him and liked him a lot.
"So there's George, George Harrison, a bit younger but really good, and I mean really good at guitar," Stuart explained, setting his pencil aside to look at her properly, not being able to fully focus on both their conversation and his work. "He was Paul's mate from school but he played Raunchy note perfect the first time he met John and John was smitten. Then there's Pete the drummer. He's alright, doesn't really fit in with the group as much as the others but he's the only drummer in Liverpool that isn't already in a band,"
"What, drummers are in short supply in Liverpool then?" Robin joked dryly, making Stuart roll his eyes.
"Good ones are," he shrugged. "I'm not saying I'm good, I'm only in the band cause John made me join, but sometimes I can keep better time than Pete. There are some proper good drummers though, like there's this other group who play the clubs called the Hurricanes, now they've got a great drummer. He's this teddy boy, Richard, but everyone calls him Richie, terrified Paul the first time we met him but he's nice enough and his band's great. Plus their lead is a lad called Rory Storm, makes all the girls go mad. I think John and Paul are always jealous of that bit,"
"So these bands, they're popular?" Robin frowned, realising that now she was actually interacting with people there was a whole youth culture she hadn't engaged with before.
"Some are, yeah," he shrugged again, turning back to his work for a moment before he looked up at her. "Are you gonna come tonight?"
Robin nodded, flashing a small smile, but in truth she still hadn't gotten permission. She'd never been out at night before, and she had no idea how her mother would react to her asking to go out. She remembered how John had expected her not to care, to just do as she pleased, but Robin didn't particularly fancy trying her luck at just going out and finding out afterwards that she didn't have parental approval. Robin had decided that she'd ask her mum if she could go as soon as she got home, hoping that she'd have had a great day at work and was feeling generous. Surely it'd just peak her desperate interest in Robin's new friends and she'd definitely have to undergo a lot of questions as to who she was hanging out with, but for the first time ever she really wanted to go out, so her mother's questionings was just a sacrifice she was willing to make.
Not that she was going to tell Stuart about any of that. It was unnecessary, and there was no way to tell him about her relationship with her mother that wouldn't come across as overly dramatic. Her family dynamics was pretty all over the place, and she didn't fancy going into any of it with anyone, at least not for the time being. No one even knew about her dead dad yet, and Robin quite liked keeping it all to herself, not wanting her friends to suddenly think of her as Robin with the dead father or Robin with the weird mother. The whole point of a fresh start was that she had a new opportunity for people to know her, and she didn't want their impressions built around sympathies.
"Time is it?" Stuart asked after a while, breaking their silence as he stepped back from his work, glaring at it critically. He'd been sketching out another abstract piece, one he'd proably paint in wild colours, and Robin didn't know why he had to be so critical, thinking it looked great from where she was stood.
"Half three," she answered after looking up at the clock, raising her eyebrow as she realised they'd been at it for hours. "I think I'm done, I'm sick of looking at this thing,"
She gestured down at her own work with a bored frown. Unlike Stuart's abstract piece, she'd gone for realism as always, and had tried drawing out a bird she'd seen from memory. It was looking alright, but the problem with drawing realism was that she had to spend hours working on her drawings, and by the time she had finished them she was sick of them, not able to appreciate the finished product properly as a piece of art, instead being able to see every stroke of her pencil, her mind making her remember all the effort she'd put in. She longed for a camera, where she could just take a photograph and that was it, the moment captured. That would be her art completed in a second, but she was too poor to afford one, and so she was stuck sketching. She liked drawing, and she liked painting, but it definitely wasn't what she longed to do for the rest of her life. If she was going to be an artist, she wanted to be a photographer, where she could take pictures without thought, where she could be free to experiment without investing so much time in one single piece.
There was no use dwelling on it though, so she packed her sketchpad back into it's portfolio, packing away her supplies into her bag and putting away all the other bits she'd borrowed from the college's supply cupboard. By the time she'd finished Stuart had too, and so the two of them headed out of the classroom, down the corridors and out of college, not really talking about anything of great importance until they got out into the courtyard in front of college, where across the road Robin could see her Uncle's car parked, Albert sat behind the wheel reading a newspaper as if he was trying to go unnoticed.
"That your uncle?" Stuart asked, nodding his head in the direction of the car, making Robin nod. "Isn't he the guy who runs all those restaurants in town?"
"Probably," Robin nodded again. "I know he was a chef who ended up opening his own restaurants but considering I've never been in Liverpool town yet I can't tell you where they are,"
"Still loyal to Sheff then?" he joked, making Robin laugh quietly as she rolled her eyes, especially as he used her favourite abbreviation of her city. "Come to the Cavern tonight and you'll see town,"
"Yeah, alright," she said, trying not to laugh. "Look, I'll probably see you later, but if I can't come have a good gig, alright? Break a leg, or whatever they say,"
Stuart laughed, and with that Robin headed off across the road and over to her uncle's car, opening the passenger door and sitting down in the seat, slotting her portfolio behind her onto the backseats. Albert greeted her with a grin, tossing his newspaper into the back as she did up her seatbelt.
"Hiya," Albert said, still with a grin. "Good day?"
"As good as it can be," she shrugged, offering him a small, fleeting smile.
"Oh, your mum rang me earlier when I was at work," he said as he began to drive, not looking at her as he instead focused on the road. "She's going straight out from work with some of her new friends, apparently they're making it a new Friday tradition, so it'll just be us two in the house tonight... Unless you have other plans?"
"Well, actually, I got invited out to some club in town, the Cavern or something," Robin tried, expecting him to say no, or to ask her mother instead of him. "My mates are in a band, they're playing tonight. I don't have to go but-"
"Oh, is it John Lennon from next door's band?" Albert interrupted cheerily, seeming almost excited at her invitation. "They're meant to be alright, one of the other lads in the band, McCartney I think, he goes round next door a lot and I've heard them practicing, him and John. They're good, really good,"
"Yeah, my friend Stuart plays bass with them," Robin nodded along, almost enthusiastic. "John's offered to take me with him on the bus, I'll be home before it's too late, and I'll-"
"Robin, you're seventeen, you're not a little girl," Albert laughed lightly, not noticing the look of surprise on her face. "Go out an have some fun,"
That was new. Not that she'd ever asked to go out before, but part of her secretly knew that if she had asked her mother she'd never have been allowed out. Even before they moved her mother wouldn't have allowed it, and even though her father was sweet he would have struggled with allowing her out too. Albert, however, didn't even need to think twice, and Robin couldn't help but crack a smile, leaning back in her seat as she glanced out of the window, trying not to feel so excited in her disbelief.
"Should I ask my Mum as well?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to get too excited too soon.
"Nah, wouldn't bother, she told me not to expect her home until the early hours," he laughed again. "If she does ask, I'll cover for you, don't worry. I used to do it for your dad and our parents all the time before he left,"
Robin froze, feeling her stomach dip like they'd just gone down a sudden hill in the road. A side-effect of keeping to herself in the house meant that she'd never really had a proper chance to talk to her uncle, and they'd certainly not talked about her father, his brother. Sometimes she forgot she wasn't alone in her grief, not when it concerned her mother because she loved playing the widow card whenever the two disagreed, but Albert normally seemed so cheerful that it was easy to forget he probably missed Robin's father as much as she did.
"Sorry, I know you don't like talking about him a lot," he apologised as he drove down their street, parking up outside their house.
"It's okay," she said, quieter than she intended. "Do you think he'd let me go out tonight?"
"Oh yeah, and he'd probably find it hilarious if you came back late," he laughed, shaking his head as if he was replaying memories from his youth, before he looked over to her with a frown. "Why, did he never let you go out at home? That's surprising,"
"No, I never asked, never had people in Sheff who I wanted to hang out with," she said with a shrug, trying to make her words not seem as sad as they felt.
"Well, he'd definitely want you to go out and have a good time, trust me," he reassured her, flashing her another kind smile, one that she couldn't help but return.
***
Robin wasn't sure on her outfit, and unsurity was something she wasn't used to. Usually she knew exactly what she was doing, exactly what she wanted, but that night as she stood in front of her wardrobe in just a towel she had no idea what to pick out. There were already dresses and skirts picked out, strewn on the bed from when she'd held them up against herself, but nothing seemed right, and her struggle for an outfit made her almost want to call it a night and not go out at all.
She knew her indecisiveness was grounded in nerves, something she was not used to either. She'd never been out with friends before, and part of her was worried it would all be one sick joke. What if she'd been lied to by them all, Stuart, John and even Paul who she'd only met once, just to have a laugh and make fun of the new girl? She'd only been in Liverpool for a couple of weeks, she didn't really know any of them well enough to know that they wouldn't do something like that. Isolating herself meant that she'd never really had to feel the nerves of social interaction, but she'd put herself out there and now she was suffering.
It was probably for no reason though. Robin might not have been in Liverpool long, but she liked to think she trusted her initial judgement of the people she'd started to call friends. Surely John, who always seemed set on teasing her, couldn't be so cruel to set up a fake friendship just to humiliate her. She didn't know him, and what she did know of him pointed to him being a troublemaker who enjoyed teasing people, but there was something about him that was almost reassuring. He had a way of irritating her and winding her up, but she liked him, and she was sure that his teases weren't spiteful. Even through his joking nature, she could tell he wasn't really as hard as he wanted people to believe, and he certainly wasn't going to stand her up or humiliate her.
As she reassured herself of that, she sighed, pulling out her pair of black jeans and her black and white striped shoulderless shirt. She was running behind so those would have to do, and she paired the outfit with her heeled boots, deciding to style her hair into a high ponytail, quiffing her overgrown fringe before she turned her focus to her makeup. She didn't tend to wear a lot at college, but she loved it, and even if she was meant to be in a rush she took her time doing her cat-eyeliner and mascara, and then spent far too long trying to pick out the perfect lipstick. Her selection wasn't that large, but she settled on her favourite red one, the one she'd bought just because it looked a similar shade to what she'd seen Debbie Reynolds wear in a magazine once. Finishing up, she got up from her dressing table, standing back slightly so she could see her full reflection, smirking as she felt quite pleased with how put together she looked after a rush to get ready, an after spraying a little of her perfume, she was ready to go.
With that, Robin quickly grabbed her leather jacket and handbag off her bed and left her room, making sure to shut the door behind her before she ran down the stairs. She went to the living room first where Albert was sat, watching something on the television that looked like a football game, but as soon as he heard her footsteps he looked over to her with a grin.
"You look nice," he told her, before gesturing to the clock on the fireplace mantel. "You better get going, the spare keys are on the table by the door but I'll be up late so the door will be open,"
"Right, cool," she nodded, before forcing a small smile. "Thanks,"
"No problem, have a good time!" he said with a wave.
She decided to take the spare keys, just in case, and once she was out the door she slipped her jacket on, the air feeling a lot cooler than it did earlier. A glance over to John's house next door told Robin that he'd already left, and she just hoped that he hadn't been waiting for her at the bus stop long. Even so, she picked up the pace, not wanting him to think she wasn't coming. There wasn't really any need to worry though, not when she saw him sat at the bus stop bench, a cigarette resting between his lips lazily whilst his guitar case sat next to him. He was a sight to behold, seeming rather serene, though she knew he was probably the opposite, especially as he glanced over to her, raising his eyebrows in place of a proper greeting.
"Didn't think you'd show," he said simply as he lifted his guitar off the bench, gesturing for her to sit, and as she did he flashed a smirk.
"Like I said the other day, you don't know me very well," Robin shrugged as she folded her arms across her chest, noticing he was not wearing his glasses - yet again. "Do you prefer being blind most of the time?"
"Can't believe that I first met you wearing glasses and now you're gonna go on about it all the time," he laughed, making Robin roll her eyes. "You try having to wear big bloody frames on your face all the time,"
"I think they suit you," she shrugged again, thinking he was being dramatic. "You look good when you wear your 'big bloody frames',"
John didn't know how to respond to that, so he chose not to say anything at all, the two of them sitting in silence as they waited for the bus. He kept his eyes trained forward, not wanting to look at Robin because of how different she looked to usual, knowing that how she looked everyday to college made him feel wild enough so surely now she looked all dressed up she'd surely send him mad. He felt his usual odd feeling of desire to kiss her or hold her or whatever he wanted, but knew that she wasn't the sort of girl who'd appreciate that sort of thing, not to mention it'd make things insanely awkward between them since he didn't even understand why she made him feel that way. Until he understood where his mind was, he'd carry on as normal, or at least as normal as he could get with Robin, because she wasn't a normal sort of girl.
How could anything be normal about her? Her dark mystery combined with an intense personality that was still so hidden from him frustrated him to no end, because it just confused his interest in her even more. She wasn't the sort of girl he usually found interesting, or even pretty, she was the type of girl he'd laugh at behind her back or make crude jokes about, but he couldn't do that to Robin. She was something else, even after a week he realised that. A week, and he already felt confused about her, because it didn't make sense what she did to his mind.
"Oi, blind man, you're unusually quiet," Robin spoke up, and as she did she flashed him a teasing smile that just drove him mad because of how utterly gorgeous she looked whenever a smile graced her face.
"And you're unusually chatty," he commented back, neither of them looking at each other as they instead looked down the road for the bus.
"Just making polite conversation," she shrugged, pulling her jacket around her tighter, flicking the collar up against the breeze, and John couldn't help but think how cool she looked as she did so.
Girls weren't supposed to be cool. He liked pretty girls with blonde hair and dresses, not cool girls who so desperately wanted to be a teddy boy with jeans and leather. Every girl he'd even looked at before had gone mad giggling and blushing at him, but Robin held herself completely different, and even if he didn't find her insanely attractive he found himself wanting to respect her. Such a confusing break from normality, but maybe that was why he found himself desperately enjoying her company, because after everything that had happened in his life in the last few months, she seemed to be something fresh and exciting.
As the sun began to set and their bus into town came round the corner, Robin shot up to her feet, immediately rummaging round in her bag to get out her fare, and John couldn't help but laugh, because as cool as she was, she was still a rule-follower.
***
Word count: 3710
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