A friend in need is a friend indeed

He had been there since the start. Before my dad had started getting violent, before my God Mother had gotten sick, before my friends had dropped me, and before boyfriends had dumped me. They had all come and gone. But Mattie had came, and stayed.
He taught me to play football, I taught him to bake cupcakes, we played on the monkey bars, and rode our bikes on adventures we made up. I couldn’t ever imagine Matt not being there.

“Charlie! Psst! Charlotte!”
My eyes flicked open and I released the tight grip I had on the bedclothes. All I could hear was my Mums sobbing voice and my Dads angry yells. But now I heard something else.
“Charlie…out here!”
I hopped out of bed and over to the half open window, there, on the edge of the window ledge, and half on the tree branch, was Mattie. He smiled.
“Mattie.. My parents are-” I half sobbed.
“I know” he nodded, “I was in my living room watching tv and I could hear them”
“Really?”
“Yep..I missed the rest of Jerry Springer” he joked, raising his eyebrows sympathetically. I tried a half smile but it wasn’t  happening.
“Anyway, come on..” Matt said, holding out his hand, “come on out, we`ll go to my house or something”
I looked at my half closed bedroom door, and bit my lip, debating on whether to take his hand or not. SMASH! Came the sound of my parents Wedding China. Without another thought, I took Matties hand, and climbed out. Whenever things got hard at home, Mattie had a way of getting me away from them without making me tell him how I scared I was. He almost acted like climbing out of the window was a spur of the moment idea he had had so neither of us would be bored, but I knew it was his way of looking after me.

Mattie had been my neighbour for fifteen years, and my best friend for nine. He was a necessity I couldn’t live without. One of those pant-wettingly funny friends that you have to make you laugh, but to be there for you through all the hard times, just like he had.
Eight months later , when I had started seeing Trevor, the time I spent with Mattie cut down drastically. But after just five weeks, when Trevor tired of our relationship, and moved on, Matt was there immediately, with reassuring words and a heartbreaking smile. I had tearfully apologized and buried my head deep into his arms, covering his shirt in mascara and snot.
There wasn’t one thing I didn’t adore about Mattie. I adored his brown messy spiky hair with the blonde streak through it. I adored the `bad boy rock star` sense of style he had. Baggy jeans, blazers, and plimsolls. The plastic bangles he wore round his left wrist and the black cross pendant I had brought him back from Spain two years before. The way he was so different to every other boy I knew. I liked the way he preferred Avril Lavigne while all the other boys preferred Britney Spears
.“So is it the same as usual?” asked Mattie as he put away some Cd`s which were on his bed. I nodded.                 
I laid back on Mattie`s bed and let my eyes wander around the room. Something about the darkness of
 the room, and the casual mess, was somewhat mellowing. Mattie sat on the edge of the bed and lifted up 
his black and white electric guitar. He strummed quietly and hummed to himself. With a final squeeze of 
Matties hand, I fell asleep.
I didn’t wake until past eleven that morning. It took my eyes took a few moments to adjust, but upon seeing
 the Chilli Peppars and `Blame my Parents -I do` poster, I recognized my whereabouts. I could smell bacon
 being fried by Donna, Matties Mum. Peering over the side of the bed, I saw Mattie stretched out on the floor
 fast asleep, his arms draped over his beloved guitar. Deciding not to wake him, I climbed over him and out 
of the bedroom window.

That wasn’t the first night Mattie had helped me out. Out of the window, that is. Many nights passed where nothing was bothering me at all, but climbing out of the window and through Mattie`s was a habit, a comfort. Matt was the perfect gentleman, although his reputation wouldn’t have allowed anyone to believe that, he thought the world of me. 
I didn’t know at the time, but he did eventually tell me I was his perfect inspiration. Playing the guitar was his ultimate dream, his second favourite thing in the world. Hanging around with me came first, he told me. Apparently I was the inspiration, and hidden person, behind the first song he had written `Girl without a face`, but more obviously through `Charlie`, his second song.
At college, nobody could understand our friendship. It didn’t bother me, because through school nobody there had either. I had realised that when you had a problem, and really needed a friend, a true friend was always there. Well, when my God Mother Karoline was in hospital, I was devastated. I couldn’t concentrate in school, I stopped socialising with friends. Despite this, I was sure my friends would be there. Two months later, when I had to attend Karolines funeral, my friends were `busy`.
Sitting outside, waiting for the cars to arrive, I sat, dressed all in black, on the front wall, staring out the ground.
“Charlotte..what’s goin’ on?”. I had jumped and looked up at him, behind him were his friends, all staring at me. Matt was my bestest friend, but my friends were never his, and his were never mine. To mine, Matt was the weird boy living next door who had strange hair and dressed like a `rebel`. To Matts friends, I was the weird girl who gave Matt a side of normality which wasn`t welcomed by them. 
Anyway, I wasn’t expecting him to be there. Blushing under the glare of Schnide and Pete, I explained.
“Its my God Mothers funeral”
“Wheres Stacey or Angela?” he asked, looking around as if expecting them to come out from behind the trees.
“Dunno, their busy”
He had tutted and bitten his lip, he looked back at his house, looked at me, then at his friends. I loved the way he always bit his lip when he was thinking.
“Charlotte…don’t go anywhere, I`ll be right back” He darted into the house, leaving Schnide and Pete staring after him.
Precisely six minutes later, he was back, dressed all in black. Waving a dismissive hand at his friends, he escorted me into one of the black cars. We sat opposite my parents in the car. My Dad stared frostily out the window, now even making conversation. He didn`t even acknowledge that Matt was with us, despite it not being in the plan. My Mum was dabbing at her eyes and leaned over to squeeze Mattie`s hand. He was always polite with my parents, used his P`s and Q`s and made conversation. I just got the feeling he didn’t really like them. I think it was because of how miserable they could make me sometimes. Anyway, he was there to hold my hand, there to cuddle me when I cried, all through the hour long ceremony.
My father had been in the army, and had it instilled into him that crying was a sign of weakness. He had instilled this into his family. But I couldn’t obey it. I needed to cry, to mourn, someone to understand, and Mattie had been there. 
So I naturally had to return the favour. Mattie joined a band. Their first gig was at Jono`s Inn in the town centre. For two long hours I sat, watching his band perform to a bunch of middle aged men more interested in the half dressed waitress and playing snooker. Mattie played his best though. He and the boys earned £20. Altogether.
I remember getting dumped by my second boyfriend, Grahame, when I was fifteen. He dropped me on February 13th, coincidentally, also Friday the 13th. But I`ve always believed it was so he didn’t have to buy me a Valentines day present. Mattie turned up at my door at 9am the next day with a bunch of roses and a card. He seemed to be laughing and joking at the time, but at the Valentines disco that night I asked him why he did it, he went bright red, shrugged, and told me so that my so called mates didn’t take the mick about me getting dumped by Grahame and not getting a present. Mattie had a way of stopping me feeling like crap. He also walked me home that night, and I told him how more than anything I would love to go to Paris. To see the Eiffel Tower, the Arc De Truimphe and sit by a river looking into the city. One Friday he took me down to the bottom of his garden, which just over the hedge, had a miniture stream. On the other side of it he had put cardboard cut-outs of the Eiffel Tower and the Arc De Truimphe. He had laid torches behind them to make them stand out against the night sky. We drank wine and ate French fries (all in the French mood). Even though it was spent at the bottom of the garden, I couldn’t have had a better day, even if I had been in Paris.
“Charlie..come on!”
“I`m comin’…whats the big surprise anyway?”
“You`ll see, you`ll see, just follow me” It was about 8pm. I had planned on spending that night at home, but eventually found out Mattie had different ideas.
I`ve never been so breathtakingly speechless as I was when I saw what Mattie had done with the garden. I remember he later told me he had taken the cut-outs from Lunn Poly.

There wasn’t all good times though. I remember not long after my 16th, Mattie started smoking, and drinking. I began to see him a lot less. He spent weekdays locked in his room, smoking whatever he had been able to get his hands on that day, and weekends out getting drunk and stoned with his new `friends`. No more was Mattie tap-tap-tapping on my bedroom window, ready to be my knight in shining armour and rescue me from the current nightmare. He became impossible to talk to.
“Mattie…yoohoo.…Matt!” I called up to his bedroom window.
Mattie yanked the window open and looked out.
“Wanna come to my house and watch a film?”. He had stared at me for what seemed like forever, taken a long drag on his cigarette, exhaled, then said,
“Sorry, I have to walk my dog”
It wouldn’t have been such an insult, if Mattie had actually owned a dog.
I tried to act like I didn’t care, but I did really. I missed him loads, and worried about him just as much. I never told him this, but every Saturday night I sat in the living room with the light off, by the window, watching and waiting for him to get home. It gave me peace of mind knowing he was home safely. That night.
Crunch ,crunch crunch, came the sound of Mattie’s plimsolls up his driveway. Tying the belt on my dressing gown, I flicked off the living room light and looked out. Mattie was stumbling slightly, obviously drunk or stoned, or both.
I`ll also never forget the jealousy I felt when I saw him out with Rebecca Watts, his latest girlfriend. I felt like pulling them apart then screaming that Mattie was MY best friend. They used to `hang around` in town with their druggie mates. I doubt either of them had any recollection of their relationship.
Like everything else that happened, he and Rebecca didn’t last long. Apparantly she checked into a rehabilitation centre with a drug problem not long after her 18th birthday.
Soon Mattie was back to normal, and we went back to normal. We began to spend more time together than ever. We were always staying over at each others houses. My parents detested him even more now, they knew about his drugs and drinking, and as we had gotten older Mattie could no longer pretend to like my parents, which is fair enough, cos usually I didn`t like them either. My father thought he was a thug and a troublemaker and always made his feelings for Mattie perfectly clear. That’s how the falling out started, actually. The amount of time I started to spend with Mattie worried them. Both our parents just couldn’t handle it. College work wasn’t being done, tutors had been phoning home, complaining. Mattie was a bit like a drug, you could say. I rarely wanted to be away from him. But this is exactly what my parents wanted.
So, when Mattie was 17, he got his first car. It was nothing special. A little Fiesta, but to him it was like a BMW. We drove everywhere in it. And after one especially hard day, a Friday, of our parents saying we couldn’t see each other, we climbed into Matties dark blue Fiesta and headed off. I don’t know where we were going, I don’t think we knew even then. We just drove, and drove. It was boring, and cold, the radiator didn’t work too well, and we were near starving, but we just kept going, because all of these things seemed more bearable than being away from Matt.
“So…what now?” Mattie asked, as he switched off the engine.
“I don’t know” I replied, feeling unusually uncomfortable. I looked straight ahead. We were facing giant hedges with a pebbledash wall in front. Mattie pursed his lips together and clasped his  hands together, staring out of the window into the rain.
“Well” he said, “do you want to go home?”
I had shaken my head.
“Good. Ok. Me neither”
For six and a half hours we sat in his car with a broken radiator and a radio with no signal. But at least we had each other. We talked about everything. Even his hair, which at the time was bleached blond. That was the only thing about Matties appearance  that ever changed.
We did eventually go home. And got into a lot of trouble. It didn’t prove a point to our parents, it just gave them reason to hate Matt even more.
Since we were no longer 15, we had stopped climbing out of windows. We never spent time at home. We were 17 and considered ourselves to be grown up, when actually we didn’t know a thing.

Mattie started working at Burger King. I began to see him less and less again. I think he started getting mixed up in drugs again because after a party at the local youth club one night, I was leaving with some friends, and I saw Mattie outside, surrounded by about six blokes. At first it just looked like a heated discussion, but then punches were thrown. My eyes widened as I saw Mattie thrown to the floor, kicked, punched and battered. I moved towards him as the boys ran off. My friend Kerry grabbed my arm and frowned at me.
“Its just Mattie Ellerson, that boys a freak, a real druggie, everyone knows that” 
I began to back away, I gave in to her tugs, and followed her away. As I looked back, Mattie was still on the floor, I could see him watching me through half closed eyes, blood trickling down his face. My best friend.
I turned, and I ran. I left Kerry and my other new friends, and I went to Mattie.  I picked him up, and put one of his arms round my shoulder. My friends watched in disgust, and Mattie eyed me suspiciously.
“Why are you helping me?” he muttered, as he limped along.
“Because you’re my best friend” I told him.
That night I bathed his cuts in Dettol and put him to bed.
“Mattie…” I said, as I covered him with his black and white checked blanket, “why did they beat you up?”
“No reason”
“Mattie I`m not stupid, its drugs isn’t it?” I said, raising my voice slightly.
“Yes and no” he replied, looking at me directly for the first time, “ I do do them, sometimes… but they beat me up cos’ I owe them money”
My eyes widened.
“How much?”
“A lot”
I pushed him for more information, but he fell asleep squeezing my hand. I knew we were friends again.

When my Dad left, my Mum started to stay out with her friends more. My brothers became uncontrollable and my sister became like my Mum. She fancied the hell out of Mattie. Mattie`s parents kicked him out, so he rented a bedsit in town. I always visited him there, I hardly ever went home .Despite having to share a bathroom with four other people, he seemed happy. Much like the old Mattie, before the drugs, before the drinks, and before the fights. 
Since my Mum was hardly ever around, I could pretty much do what I wanted. I stayed grounded though, I did my college work, looked after my siblings, and spent all the time I could with Matt.
When my Mum was having one of her infamous `cocktail` parties with her other separated friends, she would always make me sit there. Mattie offered to keep me company one evening, but when my Mum drunkenly and repeatedly referred to him as `Charlies fancy man`, he never attended again.
Soon after, Mattie’s Mum and Stepfather Kevin separated. He had called Matt a `useless dosser` so Mattie had punched him. When Kevin pulled the kitchen knife on him, Matties Mum called the police.
I never understood how someone as sweet-natured as Mattie could develop so many enemies. But somehow he had. His old friends hated him, his stepfather hated him, his Mum hated him, and my parents didn’t really care for him. I think I was the only person who could genuinely say “I`m glad you were born”.

Months and months went by and things were just like they did before. When Matt got his monthly pay from Burger King we would go to cheap discount shops to buy second hand furniture for his flat.
At night we would drink lager and watch films on his portable black and white tv. It was always a laugh. After one particular evening of  films, lager, and micro-chips. We got into a discussion about our childhood.
“Remember when we were ten you asked if I`d marry you when we grew up?” I asked giggling. I was sitting on the floor, legs tucked underneath me, while Mattie lolled on the seen-better-days sofa. He smiled, took a sip of his drink, and looked at me.
“Well,..will you?”
“What did I say then?”
“Not a hope in hell”
“Oh,well….yes ok,then” I smiled. Mattie nodded.
“Wicked”

He also have me a present that evening. Mattie wore three chains around his neck. The cross pendant from me, the thick plain silver one from his brother, and a Chinese symbol meaning `always`. Always what, Mattie didn’t know, but the point is, he gave it to me. He said it could mean what I wanted, always.
I never took it off. Even when I wore the most mis-matched outfits for it, that chain never left me.

It felt like I had waited forever, but my 18th birthday finally came around. The night before it I went out for dinner with my parents, the Saturday before it, I was going out with my friends to a local party, and on the day I spent it with the person who mattered most.
I convinced him to come along to the party. I should have known it would be a recipe for disaster. My friends looked at him like he was a bit of dirt. They made me so mad I ended up throwing my drink over them, grabbing Matt`s hand, and leaving. While we were walking back to his house, we saw a middle aged couple arguing in the street. Mattie turned round and walked backwards as we passed them, fascinated.
“Bloody `ell” he exclaimed, “marriage is a total bitch ain`t it?”
I laughed. Although it wasn’t really funny since we had both seen our parents going through separations.
“Yeah I suppose it is”
“Well” he said, kicking at a Coke can, “ours won`t be like that”
“Eh?”
Had I heard right?
“It won`t”. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little navy box. Then he smirked, and carried on walking. Not me though, I was glued to the spot. I opened the box, and there, glistening under the streetlight was a little band with a diamond in the middle.
Alright, so, it wasn’t the smoothest proposal, but I wouldn’t change it. And besides, we were different to other couples. We hadn`t gone from boyfriend and girlfriend to fiancee`s.  We had gone from best friends.
So…. I wore the ring, ALL the time, and as we always had, Matt and I spent every day together. His hair was bleached blonde again, but in little spikes, and there was some roots underneath them. Whenever we watched tv I would tend to stare at him. I couldn’t help it. I always watched the expressions he made while watching. Screwed up in concentration, smirking slightly at a really cheesy show, or his tongue poking out against his top lip when watching a suspension. One day he caught me staring and through the cushion at my head.
I also felt a prickle of excitement whenever the ring on my finger caught my eye. Me! Mrs Charlotte Jay. I went through a stage of scribbling it on every bit of paper I found. Mrs Charlotte Jay, Charlotte Anne Jay, C.A Jay.
When it came round to my main birthday surprise from Matt, I stayed at home the night before. This was really to “spend time” with my Mum and siblings. He drove me over there. As I was about to get out of the car he gave me a lingering kiss. I was still tingly hours later.
We had it all planned, well, at least Mattie did. He was going to come around to my house  with the `surprise`, then we were going to go on somewhere else. I had always liked Mattie` s suprises, because they were usually something I had always wanted. I had even brought a new outfit for it.
I was up at 10am, Mattie wouldn’t be here until 2pm, and my Dad would be dropping by around 1pm with the outfit I had chosen, his present to me. They had only had it on the mannequin the last time I was there so I had it ordered in. Anyway, I pampered myself in a White Musk bath for an hour, and lolled around the house until one. I did my hair, I did my make up, I did my nails. 
Finally, it was 1pm. My Dad still hadn’t arrived, 1.30 came. 
“Dad where have you been?!”
“Sorry, love, I got held up…traffic and all…I think me and your Mother need to discuss things, I`ll be upstairs”
I tore open the package, those gorgeous flared hipsters with the beautiful matching top. As I stood in front of the mirror I had smiled to myself. It wasn’t going to get any better than this. I had a job now, only at Clinton Cards, but it was an income, and now I was 18, I was free, and had decided to move right in with Mattie, he could use the company and so could I, and he could always use help with the rent.
I sat in the armchair downstairs. 1.45pm, fifteen minutes until my surprise. I sat, tense with excitement, flicking my Chinese symbol necklace with my thumb and index finger.
2pm came, no Mattie, 2.30pm, no Mattie, 3pm,no Mattie. This was getting ridiculous. I called his flat, no answer, I called his mobile, no answer. I was shaking with nerves now, and sitting in the chair fidgeting .Upstairs, my Dad’s mobile ringing made me jump, the noise of it cut like a knife through the silence of the house He must have cancelled it because he and my Mum were still talking. I didn’t recall my Dad ever buying a mobile. I kept looking out of the window, expecting to see him walking up the drive. Or maybe waiting for his call to meet him at the end of the road cos he was avoiding his Mums house next door. When the phone finally did ring, a grin burst across my face and the shrill noise echoed through the house.
It was 3.30pm. The phone call wiped the grin off of my face, made me go pale and week at the knees.
 3.45pm, the police arrived. 4.00pm,my best friend was dead.
I was noted as his next of kin. I was given his belongings, I hated him for making me have to have the last things he had on him. His chains, his bracelets, and my present. An envelope. Containing house keys for me, and two return tickets to Paris. There was also a little note wedged in between,

        Charlie,
                 Happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hope you like your present, and I hope you`ll use the key!!!
                 Love always, Mattie

It took me a long time to be able to talk about him again. Mattie had been murdered. One injury to the head with a sharp object had killed him. That was 3 years ago, and  the pain I felt then is still ever present. Maybe because it has only just really ended.
At 2pm on June 9th, on my 21st  birthday 3 years later, my Dad was sentenced to 18 years jail time for the murder of my best friend and my Mum got five years for helping him plan it. My sister and brothers had to go into care. I think that was the day I realised I truly hated my parents. They had torn the family apart and my life apart out of hate for Matt. 
I sat alone in the bedsit, playing with the Chinese symbol around my neck the same way I had 3 years ago to the day. Tears welled, I began to cry, I sank down 
the seen-better-days sofa and closed my eyes. I suddenly knew what the `always` symbol on the chain meant

.