by Ella Craig
‘Careful Miles, I think a diet of haggis and Scotch has addled your brains.’
‘Haggis is for tourists, and you don’t find many of those in Aberdeen. Although they do have a fine selection of malts; better than the crap down here.’
‘All you have done is moan since I picked you up from the station. If you don’t like it here, why don’t you sod off back to Scotland?’
‘The one thing I want is not in Scotland. She is here doing overtime. Jenny, I would dance on hot coals for Kath. Why doesn’t she see? Sometimes I want to hate her. She scares me. Moves me. She does things for me no other woman has ever done before.’
‘Steady on, Miles, you’re getting a tad emotional, and you’re not even drunk yet.’
‘Sorry to be so terribly un-British, but why her? I love her, and she doesn’t realise I exist. Life can be so unfair at times. Did you want a crisp?’ He thrust the packet towards her.
Jenny looked at the contents. ‘Don’t be disgusting.’
He peered into the packet and pulled a face. ‘These crisps remind me of me! I offer myself up to her but she chews me up and spits me out, and each time I crawl back into the bag to try again. I am reduced to gobbets of mush, pustules of pulped potato.’ To prove his point, he waved a lump in Jenny’s face.
‘Miles, must you be so revolting?’
‘Don’t interrupt. I’m getting into my stride. Now, where was I?’
‘Pustules,’ Jenny reminded him. ‘Best finish your rant before you meet Kath again. Talk like this won’t endear you to her, and it’s making me sick, so please, shut up.’
‘Sorry. These crisps and I will go, one to a bin and one to its lonely and chaste life in Scotland.’
‘Stop acting like a prat. Kath likes you a lot. She also loves you in her own warped way.’
That raised a smile from Miles.
‘But,’ Jenny continued, ‘how do you expect her to view you as the man of her dreams when you treat her like one of the lads. To my knowledge, you have never made a pass at her or tried to get her drunk so you could have your wicked way.’
‘Because I am a fucking romantic at heart!’
‘Not using language like that, Miles, dear. Even the most liberated of ladies like to be wined and dined on occasion with flowers and flattery, not wrestling matches and puerile practical jokes. Why not try a more conventional form of courting?’
‘Puerile,’ exploded Miles. ‘A lot of planning goes into my practical jokes. They are a celebration of man’s stupidity. A statement on the meaning of life.’
‘Don’t be so ruddy pompous. I wish you would put half as much effort into wooing Kath as you do with your wee pranks. You might progress beyond arm wrestling to hand-holding.’
‘Jenny, look out!’ Miles winced as Jenny forced a transit van into the bus lane.
‘Wanker, try learning to drive one day. And as for you, stop being the best friend and sodding well come out and tell her how you feel.’
‘A novel approach I’m sure,’ Miles mused, ‘but would it work?’
‘You won’t know until you do it.’
A car horn sounded. ‘Yeah, and up yours too.’ Jenny gave the driver a two-fingered salute.
‘You two make me so mad because every time you come within a whisker of doing something, you blow it. And Kath is too dense to see more than two inches in front of her nose. Anyway, she’s never been good with the subtle approach.’
‘Jennifer, if I promise to be more manly and forceful at the first opportunity. Will you promise to drive a little more sedately?’
‘What? Sorry, I guess I was getting a little carried away with myself, but you two are the limit. Go for it. What’s the worst that can happen?’
‘Utter rejection.’
‘True, but at least you would know for sure rather than mooning over her for another four years. I don’t think she’ll say no and if you want, I can make sure the answer is yes. Kath likes you a lot, more than she realises. It just might take a little friendly persuasion.’
‘What if it doesn’t work? Jenny, I don’t want anyone else, I want her.’
‘You don’t mean that, do you?’
‘Yes, if Kath rejects me it will be the end because there will be nothing left for me to live for.’
Jenny glanced at Miles. He sat hunched over in the seat with his hands grasping his knees. His head bounced up and down on the glove compartment as he keened his anguish with a low moan. With a sudden jerk, he shot upright and turned to face her.
‘I mean it. If she says no, one or both of us will die.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Jenny. She slammed on the brakes, sending the car firstly into a spin and secondly into a brick wall.
all i have to do is dream
Kath’s scraper hit a stubborn spot, which knocked the tool from her hand. She took off her visor and gloves and stared down at her handiwork. Flakes of paint drifted around her, but the bench wasn’t any cleaner, especially the bit by the fume cupboard. The part she never cleaned because the pattern of splatters resembled Holbein’s portrait of Henry VIII, wearing a grass skirt.
Someone else had spotted the resemblance and drawn a willy coyly poking its head out from between the strands. Kath grabbed a pen and drew a smiley-face on the bell-end.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Yeah, you not got a home to go to?’
Kath looked up with a guilty start and smiled at Neville and Maggie, back from a jaunt around the plant.
‘Overtime,’ Kath flashed them a weak smile.
Maggie’s over-plucked eyebrows rose high above her drooping eyes. ‘Overtime? Are we that busy?’
‘No, I stayed to finish the Reichman job.’ Kath braced herself for a bollocking.
‘I trained you up too well,’ Maggie observed. ‘If I’d known you were going to be here, I would have sent you sampling with Neville.’
‘We should have sent her on her own, leaving us to enjoy a nice cup of tea.’ He unloaded his carrier, putting dribbling pots of paint on Kath’s bench.
‘I am trying to clean up, and mind out for Henry!’
‘You dirty little cow! Hey Maggie, Kath’s been drawing willies everywhere.’
‘I didn’t draw one of those; I only added the face.’
‘You’re blushing,’ said Neville. ‘You look ever so sweet.’
‘Shut up, and get your crap off my bench.’
‘I didn’t think you knew what a willy looked like.’
‘I suppose like yours, but bigger.’
‘Now, now, children,’ said Maggie. ‘Less of the smut, please, remember this is a chemistry lab, not a biology one.’
‘Sorry, Nev, I’ve been on edge lately.’ Understatement of the year, or what? The usual laboratory banter had become an archery competition with Kath as the human butt of the steel-tipped jokes. It didn’t help matters she couldn’t mention Tony at work because too many people knew him. That left Darren, which was enough fodder for the lab wags. Particularly Neville, who bore a resemblance to Scooter from the Muppet Show and could find sexual innuendo in a bucket of water.
‘I can’t take a joke anymore,’ said Kath weakly.
‘I know, it’s why I keep teasing you,’ Neville said in cheerful tones.
‘Git!’ Kath poked her tongue out, but she helped Neville label his samples and, together, they cleaned up her bench.
‘What time are you finishing, Kath?’
‘At seven.’
‘Do you want a lift to the bus stop?’
‘No thanks, I’m being picked up.’
‘What by the Dynamic Darren?’ Neville nudged her elbow and winked at her.
No, because Dynamic Darren was in another mood. When Kath called him on Thursday to arrange a lift, he told her he would meet her at Mickey and Allie’s. He couldn’t chat now because he was on his way to karate, goodbye. Screw you, thought Kath, wondering how she managed to annoy him this time.
‘Not Darren tonight, Jenny is picking me up, and she’
s bringing Miles with her.’
‘Hope he puts you in a better mood,’ said Neville. ‘You’ve been a right misery in the last few weeks. You ought to dump Darren and take up with Miles.’
‘Miles?’
‘Whenever you say his name, you go all gooey and daft.’
‘I do?’
‘Yeah, like a lovesick calf, or is that mad cow disease?’ Neville ran to the safety of the mess room. Kath threw a soggy lump of paper at him. She missed. The heavy door shut with a slow wheezy thud, cutting off Neville’s laughter. Kath retrieved her missile and dropped it in the bin.
Miles? The thought of him filled her with an unaccountable joy, and Kath hoped he was back for good. His sudden decision to go to Aberdeen left her in a state of devastation, not heartbroken, but heartsick. Life without Miles was tremendously dull. Their private jokes were beyond the comprehension of most of their friends. He and Jenny were the mainsprings of her world; not even Tony could replace them in her heart.
But thinking of Tony made her want to scream with sheer delight. Fantasy Tony, the Tony of her dreams had become reality Tony. On Wednesday, he turned up with flowers, chocolates and a long kiss, and suggested the Italian restaurant he always took her to. Kath’s desire for a curry both surprised and confused him.
‘But we always go to Luigi’s,’ he told her. ‘We like it there.’
We? Kath did not recall ever having expressed a preference for that dimly lit crypt of a place, smelling of damp plaster and Parmesan cheese. They went because it was inexpensive and the sort of place, a man could take his bit on the side without fear of the wrong people seeing them. She came close to giving in until she remembered her resolutions. No more doormat and don’t give in at the first sign of opposition. Prepared to argue the toss, Kath asserted her right for a curry.
‘OK,’ Tony said. ‘Where do you fancy going?’ He let her choose the restaurant, the food and the wine. What an enjoyable experience being in charge with the waiters deferring to her, and not treating her like a piece of fluff. Tony was unusually quiet and restrained. None of his ‘here’s-me-bollocks-and-none-of-your-lip’ crap he generally used to cow people and get his own way. He paid attention to her, listened to her stories, laughed in the right places and asked the right questions.
Had Tony been the victim of alien abduction or a brain transplant? Nothing else would explain his behaviour. When they got back to her flat, he didn’t follow her in but waited at the door and asked if he could come up for a coffee. She made the first move that night. Definitely an evening of girls on top.
‘Dreaming of Miles?’ Neville emerged from the mess. He clasped his hands across his chest and fluttered his eyelashes at her. ‘How winsome you are when I mention your true love.’
‘Bog off, spotty.’ Bloody Neville and his stupid sense of humour, although giving up Darren might be a sensible idea, but going out with Miles? She adored Miles in the same way she cherished her friendship with Jenny, but Kath had no desire to go to bed with either of them. In bed with Tony was where she would rather be.
‘Do you think Maggie would notice me if I wore contact lenses?’ Neville’s question interrupted Kath’s fantasy.
‘That won’t make any difference. She’s married.’
‘I know, but I like them skinny.’
‘Small things are more juicy, eh?’ Kath refused to let Neville annoy her with his latest attempt at humour. ‘Maggie!’ she called out. ‘Guess what? Neville’s after your body.’
‘Tell him to join the queue,’ Maggie shouted back.
‘I’ll wait forever for you,’ Neville cried.
Maggie appeared in the doorway of her office. ‘My husband’s away next weekend, what do you say, big boy?’ She blew a kiss at Neville.
‘Ooh, I’m all a-tremble at the thought of it.’
‘Ah, I just remembered, my boyfriend’s coming over. Sorry, Nev, you’re out of luck.’
‘Some you win, some you lose. I’ll try it on with the new girl in the office. She’s not as thin as you though, Maggie-May.’
‘She’s also married,’ Kath snapped, struggling to find the humorous side of things.
‘That,’ letched Neville, ‘makes them all the more grateful.’
She found the thought of Nev and Maggie having an affair all rather distasteful. Hypocrite, jeered Kath’s conscience, and what would they say if you told them about Tony? Kath froze in horror, what would Miles say? He’d be as shocked as Jenny and utterly repulsed. He had high moral standards did Miles. Kath’s soul squirmed with shame; she could not bear for him to stand in judgement on her and find her wanting. It would be the equivalent of being cast out of heaven. The sun would turn his face from her and leave her in eternal darkness.
A figure loomed up in front of her, dark and menacing it filled her vision, its face a contorted mass of flesh. Kath screamed and jumped backwards. A bellow of laughter brought her back to reality; it was one of the security guards. The swine had spotted her gazing out of the window, sneaked up, and pressed his face against the glass to scare her. She glared at him as he grinned at her.
Kath didn’t recognise him. The guards in this place changed faster than Superman. Whoever he was, he did not look as sexy as Tony did in the uniform. She wished they hadn’t transferred him, but it was safer this way. It stopped Neville taking the piss out of her. She’d heard enough jokes about nipping into store cupboards for strip searches. And as for Nev’s comments about truncheons, enough already.
Unfortunately, she and Tony found it hard to keep away from each other. His transfer came at the right time before the gossip mongers got started on them. Don’t be so naive, Kath told herself. Before! What planet was she on? She smiled and turned around to find Neville poised ready to goose her.
‘Rats. You weren’t meant to do that.’
‘Don’t worry, Kath,’ said Maggie. ‘I was about to shout a warning.’
‘Thanks, Mags, you two off now?’
‘Yes. Neville’s going to walk me to my car. Isn’t he a gentleman?’
‘You know I would do anything for you.’
‘Right, you go in front and keep your hands where I can see them.’
‘Spoilsport,’ laughed Neville. ‘Bye, Kath, enjoy your weekend.’
‘Bye Nev. I suppose, Maggie, this means I get to lock up?’
‘You wanted the overtime. Goodbye Kath and don’t forget to leave the keys in the security lodge.’
The laboratories were unbearably quiet as Kath went through the close down routine. She tidied up, locked windows and turned the instruments off or left them in a neutral state. Finally, she switched off the lights and was locking the door when the phone rang.
‘Sod it!’
It couldn’t be a customer at this time of night. More likely one of the security guards playing silly buggers but, then again, it might be Jenny. Something might have come up. Kath sighed and unlocked the door.
accidents will happen
Strange sensation, detached from reality. Am I floating or falling? Not sure. I can smell whisky, but I’d love a cup of tea. Bloody lights are annoying. What is that howling? Awful noise. Shut it up! I can’t hear what they’re saying. Are they talking to me? Did someone say cat or prat? Something isn’t right. Going to be late. What? Course I know my name.
‘Jenny.’
I think. Like being on a swing. Wheee, up and down we go or is it side to side. Don’t matter, s’nice.
‘Jenny, I’m Nick, I’m a paramedic. Where does it hurt?’
‘Not sure, my head aches, and my foot is itchy.’
‘You can feel your feet? Both of them?’
Course I can but too much effort to talk. So not going to bother. I’ll nod instead but a small one. Daren’t be too vigorous, head might fall off. Feels damp, did I come out with wet hair? Better use a hair-dryer. Can’t sit up, can’t move, let go of me, I don’t have time, I’ll be late for work. I need a fag. Is that smoke? Breathe in, yum, lovely. Ow, no it isn’t. Hurts, can’t breat
he, I can’t breathe, breathe, breathe...
Move these people away from here, will you?
I’ll bet you they’re drunk.
Got feeling in her legs.
Head wound.
Lost control.
Did she say cat?
Jenny? Jenny...?
Will you move back, please?
Reeks of booze.
Stop fussing, I’m OK, but what about Jenny?
Bloody joyriders.
Cut her free.
Deserve everything coming to them.
Let me through.
No danger of fire.
Smokey...?
Could you please move away?
Where’s poor little Smokey?
Nasty stretch of road this, a regular black spot.
Puss, puss!
Breathalyser.
I told you all to get back.
Shaken and in shock.
Why can’t they leave me in peace, why are they tormenting me? It hurts when they bother me with their never-ending questions. Now, what’s going on? Buzzing noise is bugging me. They’re coming after me with a giant dildo. Worraway to go! No, don’t laugh, hurts too much. Whole leg itching now. Got ants in me pants, in me socks and in me shoes. Thank goodness, everything has gone quiet. Must need new batteries for the vibrator. Ouch, that hurt. Stop pulling my leg, don’t mind when you do it mentally, bloody hurts when done physically. Leave me alone.
‘Don’t worry, Jen; I’ll be going with you.’
Miles? Are we going somewhere? Wouldn’t mind going to the toilet.
‘I’m going to be sick.’
‘Not surprised, miss, you’ve taken a bit of a battering. Can you blow in this? Didn’t think so. We’ll need a blood sample, do you give your permission?’
‘Not drunk now, but will be later. Where’s Miles? Is he OK?’
‘I’m fine, which is more than can be said for your car, or you. I am so sorry, Jenny, this is all my fault.’
‘Kath don’t know what she’s missing.’ Never heard Miles sound so worried or gentle.