by Lake, Alex
‘I want to stay in with you. But I thought—’
‘Thought? I don’t think you do much thinking, Matt. You just do whatever your mates tell you.’
‘That’s not true. We’ll stay in together. OK? We can watch a film. You choose.’
She stared at him, slowly shaking her head. ‘No. Go out.’
He closed his eyes. He felt his pulse throb in his temples. ‘I’m not going out, Linz. I’m staying with you. OK? I’m staying with you.’
She shrugged. ‘Fine. If you want to.’
‘I do.’ He pulled on his shorts and felt in the pockets for his cigarettes. He wanted one more than ever, now.
September 2004, Birmingham University
1
The woman behind the desk checked a list for his name. She put a tick next to it, then picked up an envelope and handed it to him.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘That’s you taken care of. You’re in room 418 at Chamberlain Hall.’ She pointed to a group of students standing by a table. ‘Ask for Carla. She’ll show you where to go.’
Matt took the envelope and thanked her. He turned to his parents. They were standing near the door to the university office. Lindsey was a few yards to their left. She had barely spoken on the drive down; he hadn’t been expecting her to come, but she had showed up at the house as they were packing the last of his things into the car.
She had looked at the back seat, which, apart from a space for him, was full of bedding.
Where am I sitting?
I’m not sure. He glanced at his dad. We could move a few things around.
Lindsey, his dad said. We’d love for you to come, but there’s not a great deal of space.
That’s fine, she said. I can squeeze in.
There’s really not enough room. It might not be safe.
It’s OK, she said, and hunched her shoulders over. I don’t take up much space.
His mum looked up from the boot, where she was stuffing boxes of quick-cook pasta into every available crevice.
Lindsey, she said slowly. I think it’s better for Matt to be able to focus on getting settled. And you had a chance to say goodbye last night.
Lindsey looked at Matt. What do you think? she said.
He’d said the only thing he could. He didn’t want a shouting match outside the house, after all.
I’d love you to come.
She smiled, and clambered into the car, making a space for herself in the middle seat, pillows and duvets spilling around her.
The drive had seemed to last an age. Lindsey stared ahead; his parents maintained a stony silence. He just sat there, wishing it was all over.
At least now they were there, and he was closer to the end of this. He walked over to his parents. ‘There’s someone called Carla over there. She’s going to show me to the room. I’ll be back in a sec.’
As he approached the students they all smiled at him. ‘Hi,’ he said, looking at them in turn and feeling like he was going to die of shame. ‘Carla?’
A tall girl wearing grey sweatpants and a rugby shirt smiled at him. ‘That’s me.’ She had a strong Liverpool accent. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Matt.’ He looked at the envelope. ‘I’m in Chamberlain Hall. Room 418.’
‘All right,’ she said. ‘Come with me.’
They walked by a small lake towards a large, grey building.
‘That’s Chamberlain,’ Carla said. ‘I lived in Shackleton my first year.’
She was on his left; Lindsey was on his right, holding his hand. His parents were behind them.
‘What year are you now?’
‘Third. I’m doing English. What about you?’
‘Law.’
‘Cool.’ She turned to Lindsey. ‘Are you a student?’
Lindsey waited a long time before answering. ‘Not here.’
Carla’s eyes flickered to his, her forehead creasing in a slight frown. ‘Which uni are you at?’
Lindsey gave a little shake of the head and didn’t reply.
‘Linz is still at sixth form college,’ Matt said. ‘She’s got another year to go.’
‘Oh,’ Carla said. ‘I see. Anyway, we’re nearly there. We can go in this door.’
They walked into an entrance hall. There were posters on the wall and a row of small letter boxes.
‘For the post,’ Carla said. She nodded towards a set of stairs. ‘You’re on the fourth floor.’ She looked at Lindsey. ‘I’ll leave you to it. It’s easy enough to find.’
There was an edge to her tone. Matt made eye contact with her. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘For bringing us over here. I really appreciate it.’
She smiled. ‘No problem. See you around.’
His mum and dad followed them into the hall. His dad raised an eyebrow. His smile was thin and forced.
‘Right,’ he said, when Carla was gone. ‘Let’s go and take a look at your new home!’
2
His room was small, with a single, wood-framed bed and a desk. There was a wire waste bin by a wardrobe. The walls were grey, although at one time they had been white; there were rectangular patches where posters had protected them from the accumulated grime.
Lindsey stood by the one window, staring out of it, arms folded, shoulders hunched. She looked almost in pain, as though the effort of containing all the emotion was hurting her.
He felt sorry for her.
‘Hey,’ he said, and put a hand on her shoulder. It was hard and tense. ‘You OK?’
She shook his hand off.
‘You just want me gone,’ she said.
‘I don’t.’
‘You do. Gone from here and gone from your life.’
She was right, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say that.
‘I don’t want you to leave,’ Matt said. ‘Honestly. But I don’t know what you want me to do. You can’t stay here.’
‘I know. But you could want me to. You could want to be with me.’
He no longer had anything to say. He still liked Lindsey – maybe loved her even, in some ways – but he’d had enough. She seemed intent on ruining their relationship. She needed to be constantly reassured that he loved her, that he was going to be faithful to her, that he wasn’t interested in anyone else, and he could never say enough to convince her. It was exhausting. He genuinely liked her – she was smart and funny and kind and loyal, but it was all lost in the constant neediness.
‘I do,’ he said miserably. ‘I really do.’
‘No you don’t.’ She turned to look at him. Her face was red with fury. ‘And I can’t believe you did that to me earlier.’
He closed his eyes. What was this? What had he done now?
‘Did what?’
‘You know.’
‘I don’t,’ he said. ‘Honestly.’
‘Yes, you do.’
He felt like screaming. He was supposed to be starting university, meeting new people, but instead he was arguing with his girlfriend, and he didn’t even know why.
‘What did I do?’ he said. ‘Tell me.’
‘I shouldn’t have to tell you,’ she hissed. ‘I’m not going to tell you. The fact you don’t know goes to show you don’t care about me.’
He rubbed his temples. All he had to do was get through this and she’d be gone. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘So you don’t want to know what you did?’
She stared at him. It was a challenge and he knew she would keep on until he asked her to tell him.
‘Yes,’ he muttered. ‘What did I do?’
‘You humiliated me.’
‘I humiliated you? How?’
She put on a wheedling, sycophantic voice. ‘Oh, Carla, she’s not finished sixth form college yet. She still has a year to go.’ She shook her head. ‘You had to try and impress her, didn’t you? Telling her how worthless I am.’
‘But you are in sixth form college!’ he said. ‘What was I supposed to say?’
<
br /> ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘You should have said nothing.’
‘How could I say nothing? She asked a question, and I gave an answer.’
‘You should have said nothing,’ Lindsey said. ‘It’s easy. You simply keep your mouth shut.’
‘Right. Well, next time I will.’
‘Don’t dismiss me,’ she said. ‘Don’t you dare dismiss me.’
‘Look,’ Matt said. ‘I know this is a difficult day for you—’
‘For me?’ she said, in something like a triumphant cry. ‘For me? What about you? Isn’t this a difficult day for you, too?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Of course, but—’
‘That says it all. That absolutely says it all.’
There was a knock on the door.
‘Hey,’ Matt said, glad of the interruption. He would have been glad of an earthquake, or plague of frogs. Anything to put a stop to this. ‘Come in.’
The door opened. Two boys were standing outside his room. One was tall, with long, dark hair in a ponytail. The other was short and heavily built and had a shaved head.
‘All right,’ he said, in a cockney accent. ‘I’m Sammy.’
‘I’m Jason,’ the other said. He sounded like he was from Newcastle. ‘We’re your neighbours. I’m next door and Sammy’s down the hall.’
There was something thrilling about their accents: one from Newcastle, one from somewhere down south. It was exactly why he was here.
‘Matt.’ He beckoned them inside. ‘And this is Lindsey.’
‘Are you a student here?’ Sammy said.
‘She’s my girlfriend. She came for the day.’
Lindsey glared at them. Jason glanced at Sammy. ‘We’ll come back later,’ he said. ‘Nice to meet you, mate.’
The door closed behind them. They were alone again. Lindsey walked over to the window and looked outside.
‘I think we should go and find Mum and Dad,’ Matt said.
3
DEAR MATT
WELL, NOT MUCH HAS HAPPENED SINCE I LAST WROTE, HA, HA. I’LL ACTUALLY BE SENDING THAT LETTER IN THE SAME ENVELOPE AS THIS ONE COS I WROTE IT LAST NIGHT AND I’M WRITING THIS ONE THIS MORNING.
THIS ONE WILL BE SHORT AS A LONG DAY OF COLLEGE BECKONS. IT’S NO FUN WITHOUT YOU. JANINE AND ALISON ARE ALWAYS WITH STEVE AND TOBY – DOING GIRLFRIEND AND BOYFRIEND STUFF WHICH ONLY MAKES ME FEEL TERRIBLE – SO I’M ALONE MOST OF THE DAY. I MISS YOU SO MUCH. THERE ARE NO WORDS FOR IT AND IT’LL NEVER GO AWAY. I DON’T WANT IT TO. ALL I WISH IS THAT IT DIDN’T HURT LIKE IT DOES.
I THINK ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME AND I MEAN ALL THE TIME. I WAKE UP IN THE NIGHT, THREE OR FOUR TIMES, AND START WONDERING WHAT YOU’RE DOING, IF YOU’RE IN BED OR OUT IN A NIGHTCLUB (OR WITH ANOTHER GIRL, ALTHOUGH I KNOW YOU WOULDN’T DO THAT TO ME AND I’D KILL MYSELF IF YOU DID. JUST KIDDING. I WOULDN’T ACTUALLY KILL MYSELF. I’D KILL YOU! JUST KIDDING, AGAIN). AND THEN I CAN’T SLEEP FOR AGES AND I’M TIRED AT COLLEGE SO I MESS UP DURING LESSONS, NOT THAT I COULD CONCENTRATE ANYWAY, BECAUSE I’M THINKING OF YOU!
HAVE TO GO NOW!! I KNOW YOU’RE BUSY WITH UNIVERSITY WORK (AND PARTIES AND PUBS, RIGHT?) BUT WRITE BACK, OK?
LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU, LOVE YOU.
L.
XOXOXOXOXOX
Matt lowered the letter. He felt in the envelope; there were yet more folded sheets of A4 paper. She wrote every day, always saying the same thing, and always begging him to write back. He had, at the beginning. The first letter he sent was long, explaining who everyone was (you remember the lads who came in? Sammy and Jason? Well, they’re my two best mates here now) and what was going on (there’s a club everyone goes to on Wednesdays where it’s a quid for two shots. I was in a right mess last night!) but they had got shorter since then. And it had been a week since he sent one at all.
At least he wouldn’t have to reply to this one. Lindsey was coming to stay tomorrow night – she was taking the train Saturday morning – so he could say he decided to wait to see her to tell her his news.
Which left tonight to have some fun with his friends.
He stuffed the letter back into the envelope and put it in his letter box. He could read it later. He had a lecture to go to, and then he, Sammy and Jason were meeting in the Student Union for an early pint.
4
He walked into the Student Union Bar. Sammy was standing with a tall, fair-haired man wearing cords and a jacket, and a woman with short, jet-black hair. The man was explaining something – he was probably a professor trying to hang out with the cool kids – and the woman – a student, he guessed – was leaning on the bar, a cigarette burning between her fingers.
‘Matt!’ Sammy said. ‘Glad you could make it. This is Annabelle,’ he said. ‘And this is Guy. Guy’s on my course. Fucking brainy. Knows everything. Shakespeare, Dickens, loads of poems. All that shit. He can quote it like it’s going out of fashion.’
So, not a professor then.
‘Hardly,’ Guy said, although he looked pleased. He already had thinning hair and Matt tried to place his accent; it was neutral and hard to pick. ‘Nice to meet you.’
The girl – Annabelle – raised her hand.
‘Nice to meet you both, too,’ Matt said. ‘I’m Matt.’
‘Hi,’ Annabelle said. She took a drag on her cigarette. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Good. You?’
She shrugged. ‘Good enough. Do you do English with these two?’
‘No. Law. I know Sammy from Chamberlain Hall.’ She stood up, and he realized she was almost as tall as him. She had large, green eyes. ‘Are you English too?’
‘Maths,’ she said.
‘Bloody hell,’ Sammy said. ‘At least someone’s doing a proper subject. Anyway, time for a pint. I’m buying.’
‘That’s good of you,’ Guy said.
‘Nah,’ Sammy said. ‘It’s Happy Hour. Two for the price of one! Your round, next.’
5
Matt stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. It was overflowing with ash and butts and he watched as the smoke curled up. He sipped his drink. It was a bottle of alcoholic tangerine-flavoured syrup. It was pretty foul but it was cheap, and strong.
The table was in a corner of the bar in the basement of the hall of residence. He sat on a couch that lined the wall and looked around. It was packed with students. Sammy and Jason were dancing on the tiny, sticky dance floor. They had contrasting dance styles; Jason shuffled from foot to foot, as though he thought he was the only person out there and everyone was watching him and he didn’t want to embarrass himself. Sammy too gave the impression he thought he was the only person out there and everyone was watching him, but for the opposite reason: he threw himself around like a man possessed by a particularly vindictive demon.
Sammy banged into Annabelle and she laughed, then pointed to the table and said something. She started to walk over.
Matt felt his pulse quicken. It was strange; any of the other girls could have been coming over and he would have been fine, but not Annabelle. With her, it was different. He’d felt it as soon as they met. The second he’d seen her at the bar he’d been drawn to her. He had no idea what it was about her versus anyone else, but he didn’t care.
It was real, and he’d felt it from her, too. But she had a boyfriend, so he was going to have to try and ignore those feelings.
‘Done dancing?’ he said, when she sat at the table.
‘Safer over here,’ she said. Her face was flushed. ‘You not dancing?’
‘I gave it a shot,’ Matt said. ‘And I agree with you. Sammy’s a danger to himself and others.’
‘Could I borrow a smoke?’
‘If you give it back.’
She gave him a puzzled look. ‘Sorry?’
‘People always ask if they can borrow a cigarette, but they’re not the kind of thing you borrow and return.’
‘Oh. Never mind, then. I can do without.’
He had meant it to be funny, but it was not quite working out that way. He felt himself flush. ‘It’s
fine. It’s something we say at home. Me and my friends. It was a crap attempt at a joke.’ He passed her his packet of Marlboro Lights. ‘Here. Take one.’
‘You sure? I don’t have to give it back?’
He laughed. ‘Of course. Have two.’
‘Was that another joke?’
‘Yes. Couldn’t you tell?’
She shook her head. ‘Afraid not.’
‘I’ll try harder next time. Or maybe not bother.’
‘Don’t give up. Practice makes perfect.’ She lit the cigarette. ‘So where are you from?’
‘Warrington. You?’
‘Richmond.’
‘In London?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘The Yorkshire one. You enjoying it? At uni?’
‘Love it. How can you not?’
‘I know, right?’ She took a drag and blew the smoke out. ‘What are you doing tomorrow night? There’s a band night at the union.’
‘I’ve got a’ – he picked his word carefully – ‘guest coming.’
‘A guest? What kind of guest?’
‘It’s someone from home.’
‘Someone from home? A friend? Your parents?’
‘No. Someone else.’ He paused. He didn’t need to hide anything. It wasn’t as if she was single, either. ‘Girlfriend,’ he said. ‘She’s called Lindsey.’
He was sure he saw a flicker of disappointment on her face – maybe a slight narrowing of the eyes or fading of her smile – but it was probably only wishful thinking.
She sipped her drink. ‘That should be fun. She must be a serious girlfriend if she’s coming to stay?’
‘Since last Christmas. What about you and Guy?’
‘Me and Guy!’ She laughed. ‘We’re just friends. We’ve known each other for years. We were at school together in Richmond. He has a pretty serious girlfriend of his own. She’s at Cambridge.’
She stood up and stubbed out her cigarette. ‘God, it’s hot in here. Do you want to go for a walk? Get some fresh air?’
‘Sure. Now?’
‘Why not?’
‘Where to?’ he said.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. The lake?’