It Matters

In the silence between one song fading and the other beginning, Matt heard the door knock. It had the sharp heaviness of someone who had been attempting to attract his attention for some time. Matt froze and glanced at the controller in his hand, before carefully placing it down. He still didn\'t move, even as the next song began on his iPod, though he did switch that off. The knocking sounded again, just as urgently as before. Matt rose and sauntered down the passageway. Mello wasn\'t due back for days and anyway had a key. No-one else ever appeared at that door. He vaguely wondered if it was some Mafia goon looking for Mello and so doubled back to grab a gun. He arrived at the door just as it knocked again and peered through the spyhole.



A moment later, he stepped back and stared at the deadbolt. He was half tempted to just return the way he\'d come and carrying on playing until the interuption went away. But she might come back again, when Mello was in. Matt opened the door. "Aimee."



"Matty." The young woman seemed upset. She was crying and there was mascara in streaks all down her cheeks. "I didn\'t know where else to go. It\'s all gone wrong. Can I come in?"



"Erm." Matt began, but she was already moving forward. He stepped back to let her into the hallway. "S\'up?" She peered nervously into the passageway leading into the rest of the flat. "Mello\'s not in."



Aimee nodded. "I\'m pregnant." Matt\'s grip increased on the edge of the front door and he hurriedly shut it. His mind span through all of their past associations, trying to imagine if he had ever been that high. He didn\'t recall so. "My sister\'s friend said that if you know how to work the system, then it can be more profitable than going to work, but there were all these forms." She swiped at her eyes. "You know I\'m no good with forms. But I did get a flat, then Brucey moved in and Kaz warned me about him. Mind you, Kaz told me never to bother with you again, after the way you treated me. Brucey can be really sweet though, you know? Once you get to know him. But then I had the police at the door and the baliffs sent me a letter. Our Dee said they only do that to scare you, but I\'m not so sure. What if they do come tomorrow? I can\'t bring up a baby on the street!"



Matt stared. "Right."



"I\'ve been in a right state for days. Just you ask our Dee, she\'s seen it. The kettle\'s never been off!" She dived into a sack-type bag that she carried across her body. "I keep looking at these forms, but you know me, I\'ve never been good with forms. Then I said to Kaz that it\'s a pity that we don\'t hang out with Matt anymore, because he was always so good with this sort of thing. She said forget Matt! He\'s gone too uppity for the likes of us these days. But you haven\'t, have you, Matty? I mean, I know that you have that Mello, but you\'ve been together ages now. It must have worn off a bit, erm." She bit her lip. "You are alright, aren\'t you, Matt? I do think about you."



Matt shifted his weight to his other foot. "You want me to look at some forms?"



Aimee nodded. "Yes please. Shall I put the kettle on?" She thrust a pile of papers at him, then hunted for a pen. "There\'s pages of small print! I don\'t know how they expect you to understand it all. It\'s all refer back to this and \'as outlined\' in that. Even our Trace couldn\'t get her head around it and she\'s at college!" She peered closely at him. "Matty, you whore, you\'ve got lovebites all down your jaw!"



Matt felt himself blush instantly. He took the papers and the pen and led the way down the passageway into the front room. "What\'s all this got to do with the police?"



"It hasn\'t." Aimee trailed after him. "Oh! That\'s a whole another story. Brucey\'s been selling this cut-price stuff and the police seem to think it\'s stolen. But he\'s been doing it from my flat. I told him he has to get it all out before the baby comes, because you can\'t have boxes everywhere when you\'ve got a baby, can you? It\'ll fall over them and hurt itself."



"Who\'s the father?" Matt asked, casually.



"Davey." She moved towards the kettle and didn\'t appear to want to be drawn on that. Matt sat at the kitchen table and started to sort the papers into piles, \'relevant\' and \'filler shit\'. "You did it again. That look on your face. Did we ever sleep together?"



"I don\'t think so." Matt replied quickly. "I\'d have remembered." He scan-read A4 sheet after A4 sheet, placing them down appropriately with a rhythmic thud. "I\'m sure I\'d have remembered." Thud. Thud. Thud. "I\'m gay anyway."



Aimee placed a mug of tea down beside him. "What are you doing?" She asked, puzzled. Matt paused, staring from the page in his hand to the piles beneath, then back up at her. "Your head keeps moving, like you\'re reading it, but you\'re too fast."



"Speedreading." He handed the pen back. "All of these need to be filled in. Start with your name and address on the top one."



"Speedreading?" She stared, her mouth a perfect O. "Like reading on speed?"



Matt nodded, then paused at the one in his hand. "This is a notice to quit."



Aimee stared at it. "That\'s what I thought, but that can\'t be right. I\'m pregnant. Our Dee says you don\'t have to pay rent when you\'re pregnant, on account of being a single mother. The government pay it because I\'m, like, repopulating the country."



"Nevertheless it\'s a notice to quit over non-payment of rent."



Aimee\'s chin rose. "Do you think it\'s because I\'m living with Bruce?"



Matt shook his head. "I think, personally, all things considered, it\'s probably because you didn\'t pay your rent." He tapped a gloved finger on the sheet. "You owe £702.34." He peered at her beneath his goggles and his fringe. "Have you got £702.34?" She shook her head, staring fixedly at the form upon which she had so far written her name and the top line of her address in carefully rounded handwriting. "Right." A whole future opened up in front of Matt. It involved Aimee knocking his door every time officialdom burst her bubble. One day, Mello would be in and Matt could imagine only too well his take on the situation. "Has Bruce got £702.34?"



"Truth?" Aimee chewed the pen. "I don\'t know what Bruce has got. I didn\'t ask him to move in, he just moved in. I told him it was for one week only, but he moved all his stuff in and I don\'t know how to get him out again. He\'s got all his stuff and the police keep coming around. I mean, I tell them that I don\'t know where he is, but one day they\'re going to come with a warrant and I don\'t know what I\'m going to do then. I\'ve told Bruce that he has to move his stuff out before the baby comes, but what can you do? He just tells me to grow up and..." She shrugged. "I know that I have to be firm."



Matt closed his eyes. He\'d never heard of Bruce until ten minutes ago and he already hated him. "Are you sleeping with Bruce?"



"No." Aimee replied fiercely. "He keeps trying it on, but I told him I\'m a lesbian. He says, how can I know that if I\'ve never had sex with a man? I said I just know."



"But you\'re pregnant." Matt could feel his brain turning to mush and starting to seep from his ears.



"I know. I told me that me and my ex-girlfriend did it with a turkey baster. I read about that once. People do do it."



Matt resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. "Aimee, if I make this go away, you\'re not to come round again, right?" It was out of his mouth before he\'d thought of a reason to justify it. He tested out a couple in his head, foremost being using Mello as the excuse - my boyfriend is a psychopathic Mafioso, who\'s very possessive and will shoot you - through to the stark - you do my head in. They were both truth, after a fashion, though she was probably beneath Mello\'s bullet on account of not being worth the wear and tear on his gun. Aimee stared at the form in front of her with an expression caught between hope and hurt. He settled at last for a misdirecting semi-truth. "I\'m involved with the gangs now. You\'ll end up killed."



She looked up sharply, her mind obviously straying towards the drug barons that ruled this estate. They were well-known on the streets, until the police came knocking. Then no-one knew anything. There had been a shoot-out in the town centre a few months ago and three people had been killed. On the table in the front room, the free paper headlined the arrest of a ringleader. The police had paraded his Porsche on the back of a truck just to prove he was gone. The article itself was full of condescending comments like, \'Well-behaved, law-abiding people are safer without people like Wallace Burton on the streets. The police work hard to ensure that crime doesn\'t pay.\' As if there weren\'t a dozen more Wallace Burtons to take his place. As the arrest of a drug-dealer meant something other than dismay to half the people in this block of flats. Yet the guns and violence were real, above the level of the majority, but feared nontheless. "Doing what?"



"Less you know the better." Matt rose to fetch a laptop. "Fill in those forms." He hacked the council offices from the front room, then went to get changed. Mello would kill him if he found out about this. Matt shoved a knife down his boot and a Beretta into the collar of his jacket. Mello had just better not find out about it then. He returned to the kitchen. "How are you getting on?"



"I\'ve done these three." She showed him.



"Good girl. Now finish the rest at home. You really don\'t want to hang around here anymore." He reached into the sink and took out the paring knife. He dried it with a teatowel and shoved it in the back of his waistband, blade down. "Remember to post them, eh?"



"I\'m worried about you being involved with the gangs. You could be killed."



"Yep." Matt folded up the supplementary information sheets and pushed them into Aimee\'s bag. "Which is why you aren\'t to come round here anymore. You have the baby to think of."



"No, really, Matty, I\'m scared for you."



He glanced at her and saw that she really was. It irritated him. "Well, don\'t be. Come on, let\'s go and deal with the Bruce situation. I\'ve erased your rent arrears, so you won\'t have the baliffs around tomorrow, but you have to pay your rent in future, ok? The government doesn\'t pay it for you, even if you are pregnant, until you\'ve sent the blue form back. Then they might consider it." He waited in the doorway, but she still wasn\'t moving. "What?"



"You really worry me. You\'re really reckless and, Matt, you\'re bright. You could have made something with your life! And you speak nice." Aimee began to pack her things away. "You could get a proper job that pays loads and be set up for life. You could get out of this shithole." She hoisted her back onto her shoulder. "I reckon you could easily get £20-30 grand a year being a manager somewhere. You\'re that bright."



Matt nodded. "Maybe." He lit a cigarette. "Ready?" Without waiting to see if she was following, he headed back down the passageway and opened the front door. Aimee filed past him, her head bent and her hand clutching the strap of the bag over her shoulder.



She waited while Matt locked up the front door. "I\'m not going to see you again after this, am I?" His gaze flickered towards her, then down to the floor. He slouched past en route to the lift. "You\'ve really changed, Matty." She commented jogging to keep up, though he wasn\'t moving fast. "Is it Mello or was it something that I did? The whole gang has broken up. Gallagher has nothing to do with any of us anymore either. Things got really awkward between me and Davey after I got pregnant. I still see Stevo occasionally, but there\'s only Kaz I see regularly. I wish it was like it used to be. We had fun, didn\'t we, Matt?" Aimee watched him call the lift. "I had fun."



"It\'s the next block of flats along, isn\'t it?" Matt had no idea what to say to her, so he said nothing. Wammy\'s House had not equipped him for Aimee.



"Yes." Aimee bit her lip. "You\'re going to get Bruce out?"



"Yes."



The lift door opened and they stepped in. The door closed on them, the empty chip wrappers, the cans and the smell of urine. They travelled down to the ground floor in silence and stepped out into the foyer, then the night. The air crisp against their faces, the wind howling like a wild animal as it hit the corners of the tower-block. Aimee glanced at him. "You\'re going really well, Matty. I know you find it hard. You\'re doing really well." He took a drag on his cigarette and focused on the alleyway ahead. He couldn\'t look at her. It was too awkward. "I sometimes wonder if, you know, if things had been different, you and I could have got together. I thought we were going to at one point. We nearly did, didn\'t we, Matty? When I was staying at your flat, it was almost like a couple, wasn\'t it?"



"Almost." Matt muttered, non-committantly.



Aimee\'s head rose and she smiled. "I would have liked that. You\'re different to all the other lads around here and I don\'t think that\'s just because you\'re gay. There\'s something different about you." They entered the alleyway, boots clipping on chipped paving stones and the ground in dark spots of ancient chewing gum. Weeds and tufts of grass lined the edges, like Mother Nature was desperate to take the council estate back, crack by crack. Aimee\'s foot touched against a beer can and it careered out along the way, hitting a gate and setting off the dog behind it. They walked on. "I would have liked to have been with you."



A gang of young men surrounded a car by the entrance hall of the \'W LD RF \' tower block, caught in the dim lights of the failing reception bulb above. One of them wolf-whistled Aimee as they passed and she flicked the birdie, huddling closer to Matt. He paid them no attention at all, opening the stuck door the rest of the way needful to allow them access. A couple were having a blazing row beside the lift, but they ignored them too. The lift door opened and they stepped in. Someone had puked in the corner. Yesterday\'s paper failed miserably in covering it. "Which floor?"



"Twelfth." The door pushed open before they could ascend and a young man, in his early twenties, stepped in. His gaze took them both in with a blaze of suspicion, but he entered anyway, jabbing at the ninth floor button. They rose in a loaded silence, until Aimee broke it. "What are you going to do when we get there?"



"Remove your flatmate." Matt could feel the Beretta digging into his shoulder. He hoped that he didn\'t have to use it. Memories of the Scandinavian were too stark. He hadn\'t got a plan. He trusted that he would just know what to do when he got there. His mind drifted towards Mello and, unusually, he found himself wondering what the blond was doing right now. Normally Matt didn\'t like to consider it, on the basis that he\'d probably end up having a nervous breakdown imagining it. They reached the ninth floor and their companion left. They reached the twelfth floor and immediately heard the banging of hip-hop music, as they disembarked. Matt noted that he had better not get injured or else Mello really would have something to say about this endeavour.



Aimee crossed to a front door situated almost opposite to the lift. The music was coming from within. Matt sauntered in her wake, ignoring the nervous glance that she cast him as they entered her home. There were boxes. They rose as far as the ceiling, some of them open to reveal clothing still in the cellophane and children\'s toys in clear plastic bags. Aimee led the way into the front door. "Bruce." She said, the second she was in there, shoulders back and rising to her full height. "I need you to leave now."



Bruce\'s voice boomed back. "What\'s up, baby girl?"



Matt raised his eyes to the ceiling, though there was no prayer behind it. He had no-one to pray to, except maybe Mello and, if by chance, the blond received a telepathic message, then the last place Matt wanted him to come was here. He stepped inside the room. Nothing had prepared him for the sheer size of Bruce. The man was like a mobile cliff-face, nearly seven foot tall and as broad as he was high. He didn\'t seem the sort who was used to taking orders. Nevertheless, Matt surveyed him calmly. "Aimee wishes you to pack up your stuff and get out of her flat."



Bruce laughed. He stared down at Matt and his mirth increased. "What the fuck are you?"



"A friend of Aimee\'s." Matt smiled, knowing the effect that Mello\'s smile could have on people. He didn\'t want to consider that maybe his own smile didn\'t have the same manic power. "And I\'m not asking you. I\'m telling you. Pack up your stuff and get out of her flat."



"You\'re priceless." Bruce guffawed, gold chains rattling against a neck the size of Matt\'s chest. "You want me out, Aimee? What\'s up, babe? We have a good thing, eh?"



Aimee was standing behind the settee, her knuckles white where she gripped the strap of her bag. "Please go, Bruce. I have asked you before. I didn\'t ask you to move in. I need this flat for my baby."



Matt fixed his gaze on the huge man. "See, she wants you gone." He pointed back into the passage. "So go."



"I don\'t want your knock-off here!" Aimee indicated another wall of boxes behind her. "The police keep coming and my nerves are on edge. I didn\'t ask you to move in."



Bruce stepped forward, his long legs taking him to within a couple of feet of Matt within just three steps. The redhead found himself staring straight into a muscular chest that filled his entire vision. He knew that he would have to tilt his head practically right back to even look the man in the eyes. It wasn\'t like taking on Mello. The blond might be a terrifying arsehole at times, but at least his eyelevel was in the vicinity of Matt\'s own. As a huge hand rose, Matt tensed, but instead of punching him, Bruce ruffled Matt\'s hair. "Why don\'t you run along back to the playpen, little boy? You\'re well out of your league here. Fucking posh accent. Run along to Mummy and Daddy and stop slumming it with the common people."



Matt nodded slowly. "Good song." He smirked. "Nevertheless, Aimee wants you gone." He looked up, not tilting his head to bear his throat, but allowing his eyes to rise to the limits. Now he could see the amused grin. "So go."



Bruce called out. "Aimee, be a love and put the kettle on."



Matt yawned. "God, you\'re tedious." He took a step back. "Aimee, where\'s his clothes? I\'ll start him off."



"He\'s been sleeping in here." She pointed to the settee. Matt turned and saw the piles of t-shirts and trousers near to it. There was a bag next to them. Matt nodded and wandered over, unceremoniously stuffing the clothing into the bag. He was grabbed by the back of his collar. Aimee shrieked and the Beretta slid down Matt\'s back. He twisted his arm back and caught it as it fell from the bottom. Bruce pulled Matt effortlessly backwards, but the redhead\'s right hand rose with the semi-automatic ready in it. It struck the big man across the jaw and Matt was dropped onto the carpet. "Matt!"



"kay." Matt crouched behind the Beretta, green eyes glinting behind the orange goggles. "I\'m not joking anymore. Get your fucking stuff in that bag and leave!"



Bruce\'s hands rose in surrender. His grin never faltered, even as his tongue explored the damage of the pistol whipping. "You just got interesting."



"And you just moved a step closer to having a bullet in your skull." Matt replied, calmly.



"That\'s a big boy\'s toy you\'ve got there, little man. You want to be careful with it."



Matt nodded and shot the settee. "Oops." He smirked, as the barrel was trained again upon Bruce. "Whatever will I shoot next?"



It took about half an hour for Bruce to move out. Matt and Aimee waited out of the way in the kitchen, though with the door open to ensure that nothing belonging to her was taken too. Bruce had called a friend for moving some of the larger boxes. They were piled out on the landing, being taken in a relay loading down the lift into a waiting van. The flat looked very big and empty once he\'d gone. Awkward silence filled it. Aimee stared into the front room. "I feel bad for Bruce."



Matt scan-read the forms that he\'d made her fill in while they had overseen the move. "Don\'t be." He slotted each into their pre-paid envelopes. "I\'ll drop these into the postbox on the way home." They disappeared into his back pocket. He looked up and Aimee was watching him. "Erm, good luck with the baby and everything."



"You\'re leaving now." It was a statement, not a question. Matt nodded. Aimee brightened. "We could still be friends. I do miss you."



Matt shook his head, checking his weapons before preparing to step back out into the night. "It wouldn\'t work."



"Because Mello doesn\'t like you having friends?"



It would have been easier to blame Mello. It was partially the truth anyway, though Mello would live with it if Matt had been adamant. Matt just shrugged and left it ambiguous, but then, as an afterthought, added, "I\'m not good with people."



"You are!" Aimee gushed. "Matty, it was so good when I lived with you! It was," her voice faltered, "the best time of my life."



Matt shuffled past her. "Bye Aimee."



There were unshed tears in her voice as she replied, "Bye Matty." He wandered down the passage and called after him. "Stay safe, eh?"



"Yeah."



He let himself out and took the stairs down, not wishing to accidentally come across Bruce. There had still been boxes on the landing floor. It took an age to reach the ground floor, but he made without encountering a single soul and dashed out of the backdoor, unseen by Bruce at the front. Matt glanced up as he crossed into the alleyway. Though too high up to really be sure, Matt knew that Aimee was watching him from her kitchen window. He raised his hand in a lazy wave and walked out of her life for the second time. He silently wished her well and decided that, when Mello asked, Matt would say that he\'d never left the flat. There was no point in worrying the man. It had all ended well.