If I Can't Have you

(4) The Jacket

"Upset I don't fancy you like all the other men in here?" Tommy says, "does my attention- or lack thereof bother you?"

"They don't fancy me, and no, trust me, you have nothing of interest to me," Jemima replies.

Tommy tuts, releasing a small chuckle and shaking his head, "either you're naive or stupid, I didn't take you for either. They're all looking at you."

"Because I'm the only thing with tits," Jemima says, "and as we saw from that gentleman, thats what they're looking at, but I don't have a jacket with me, and I didn't expect it to rain."

"The attention making you uncomfortable?"

"When have you ever known me to like attention, Thomas?" Jemima replies, as their drinks are placed down in-front of them.

Tommy looks down at her, a stoic expression on his face as he removes his suit jacket, "put it on."

"What?"

"Put it on, unable to follow simple instructions?"

"Instruction?" Jemima repeats, "my shock was due to you being slightly nice."

"I don't exactly feel like being part of a bar fight tonight," Tommy says, "it's purely selfish, don't you worry."

"Why on earth does me wearing your jacket constitute the absence of a bar fight?" Jemima questions.

"You really think if a guy said something like that to John or Max that they'd let it go? And you think if someone tries to hit my brother that I'm not getting involved. It's a long chain, but it comes back to you." Tommy says, picking up his and her drinks, whilst she takes Max and Johns.

"You're an arse." Jemima states.

"I know, it keeps me up at night." Tommy deadpans, "as much as I find this conversation exhilarating, let's go back over there."

"Yes, let's." Jemima agrees, "it means I don't have to deal with your insufferable presence by myself."

"Oh how you wound me." Tommy says, "your insults need working on."

"Trust me, I was thinking of calling you a lot worse." Jemima scoffs.

"You're thinking about me? How sweet. Don't let it take up too much of your time though." Tommy smirks, as Jemima hands Max and John their drinks.

"Mimi, hello lovely," Arthur sings, drunkenly throwing his arm round Jemimas shoulders, using her to hold himself up.

"Here's your drink," Tommy speaks bluntly, handing it to her before sharply turning to stand beside Freddie who was chatting to Danny Owens.

"What's crawled up his arse and died?" Arthur giggles, leaning down and taking a sip from Jemimas drink.

"You know how he we are with each other, we have a mutual passionate disliking." Jemima says, "stop stealing my drink, you've had enough."

"Nothing is ever enough," Arthur replies, before frowning and resting his head on hers, "I miss my mum."

"I know you do, sweetie." Jemima sighs, rubbing his back consolingly.

"She was a lovely woman, weren't she?" Arthur hums.

"One of the best." Jemima agrees.

"You're lovely too, little Mimi." Arthur says, pinching her cheek.

"Thank you," Jemima laughs.

"What's funny?" Arthur asks.

"You are," Jemima replies.

"Really? That's so nice." Arthur grins, kissing her cheek.

"Oi, JemJem!" John shouts.

"Don't call me that, Jonathon." Jemima replies.

"It got your attention," Max says, winking at her from where he was lounging in one of the booths.

"Eager for my attention?" Jemima asks, fixing Tommys jacket, the shoulder of which had slipped.

"Always," John exclaims, "come sit down, our lovely Jem."

"I'm bringing Arthur." Jemima replies, helping Arthur towards the table.

"The more the merrier." Max cheers, finishing his drink.

"Hello brother," Arthur says, falling onto the booth beside John.

"You drunk, old man?" John laughs, throwing his head back and accidentally whacking it against the head rest.

"Who you calling old?" Arthur speaks, his words slurring.

"You, dickhead." John says, ruffling Arthur's hair up, the older brother smacking his hands away.

"Why you so mean to me? Mimi, Johnny is being mean." Arthur pouts.

"How dare you, Jonathon." Jemima gasps, before sarcastically adding, "leave your grown arse older brother alone."

"You're meant to be on my side," Arthur groans.

"Budge up," Freddie says, nudging Arthur closer to John so he and Danny could perch on the bench of the booth beside them.

Tommy huffed as he took a seat beside Jemima, glaring at Freddie who was grinning innocently at him.

"If my presence displeases you that much, you can always just... fuck off," Jemima replies.

"Why do you two dislike each other so much?" Danny asks.

"She's a bitch."

"He's a prick."

"Right... they're not really explanations though." Danny shrugs, taking a sip from his pint.

"Why are you wearing his jacket?" Freddie queries, and all eyes but Tommys fixated on her.

"My blouse is wet, and because it's white, it's gone see-through, for once in his life he was being a gentleman." Jemima replies.

"The tension here is astronomical," Max mumbles.