Anywhere's Better Than Here

by Zöe Venditozzi

  ‘‘And?’’ asked Laurie.

  ‘‘Well. He went off to the army all of a sudden and then Jenny had a baby a few months later. There was a big fuss. A lot of people stopped talking to the Callanders and then he retired soon after.’’

  ‘‘Really?’’ Laurie didn’t believe it. ‘‘I doubt that’s my Gerry.’’ Her Gerry? Laurie felt herself smiling, despite the story.

  ‘‘Well. Ask him. When are you seeing him next?’’

  ‘‘I don’t know. I don’t know if he wants to see me again.’’

  ‘‘What happened to the wee baby?’’ asked Marie with a damp tremor in her voice.

  ‘‘Jenny had a boy. He must be about fifteen or so now. But they moved somewhere else in town and I haven’t seen her since the boy was a toddler.’’

  Gerry with a child? She couldn’t picture it. And yet she could completely picture it. He’d be a good dad, she thought,. remembering his warm, comfortable bulk. Cuddly.

  ‘‘I’m going to go and see him later and I’ll find out then.’’

  ‘‘D’you reckon?’’ asked Margaret. ‘‘Is that a good idea? What if he has got post traumatic whatever?’’

  ‘‘Well.’’ She thought for a second. ‘‘If he does, he’ll need a friend won’t he?’’ She felt a warm, saintly glow come over her. Maybe she wasn’t so very different to her mother after all.

  Wednesday 22nd of December

  Just After 3am

  Increasing Mist

  She had decided during the rest of her shift that she was just going to have to brass neck it. There was no way around it. Fair enough, she didn’t know what direction she was going in just at the moment, but she thought she did want to keep seeing Gerry and she was just going to have to be brave and face up to things. Tomorrow she would have to break up with Ed, but first she needed to sort things out with Gerry. She stood in front of the station door and gathered her resolve.

  Straightening her spine and taking a deep breath, she raised her hand to knock on the door, but stopped herself just before her hand made contact with the wood. What if he knew it was her and just ignored her? Worse still, what if he locked the door and stood on the other side – unrelenting, silent, glowering through the closed door at her impertinence? Better to just open the door, give him no warning. She straightened herself up, put her hand on the door handle and turned it forcefully.

  She jarred her shoulder as she stumbled against the door. He’d locked it! Furious, she pounded on the door.

  ‘‘For fuck’s sake Gerry! Let me in!’’

  Nothing.

  She banged on the door again. There was no sound from the station. She stood looking at the sign on the door, deciding what to do. She leaned her ear against the door straining to hear whether he was standing on the other side, laughing at her stupidity.

  But there was absolutely no sound. She realised that there wasn’t anybody in the station. Where the hell was he? Oh God, had something happened to him? No, she didn’t think he was the type. Was he?

  Fleetingly, she considered leaving him a note just in case he had been caught short, but somehow that would be even more humiliating than just talking to him. Besides, what on earth could she write on a scrap of paper?

  She turned from the station and started to walk the long way out of the hospital. This route took her through the wards she worked on, past the old people snoring and muttering in their beds. She tried to look as if she was still working, so she wouldn’t appear suspicious. To that end, she straightened a few cubicle curtains as she passed along the corridor. One cubicle had several visitors in it, crowded around the bed on plastic stackable chairs. She caught the eye of one of the visitors, an old man who was sitting at the head of the bed, hands folded in his lap, while the other three visitors – his children maybe? – read books. It must be his wife in the bed. She must be about to die, Laurie thought. She smiled at the old man and he nodded back at her. She wanted to do something for him, but had nothing to offer, so she nodded back and walked on through the ward.

  It was nice in the hospital at this time of night. Everything was quiet and the dim lights of the wards reminded her of the quality of light in airplanes during night flights. She was full of a sort of maternal magnificence, where she had the impulse to smooth patients’ hair and tuck them in and glow kindly as she floated along the corridors. There were no other visitors at any other beds and the nursing staff must have all been chatting in their stations. She felt as if she was the last person in the hospital and the thought was comforting. Some days she wished she didn’t have to see another person again and go through all that rigmarole of their feelings and their ideas and their pasts. Why couldn’t people just start afresh and see what happened? Why were people always holding on to ancient history and dragging their bloody heels? Her mood turned as she walked past the last few beds. If it was daytime, they’d all be awake, moaning and demanding. She passed the last bed and noticed the occupant – she couldn’t tell whether it was male or female – had their eyes open and stared at her balefully. She stopped and started back. The patient stared at her without blinking. The longer Laurie stood there, the more she became convinced that she was staring at a dead person, but she couldn’t tear herself away. Finally she heard the sound of nurses pushing the drugs trolley and she left the ward, forcing herself not to look back.

  Where on earth would she go now? There was no way she was going home to break the news to Ed, but she knew herself well enough to know that she wouldn’t in a million years be able to keep it in once she was with Ed. She had to break things off with him. She was many things, but not really a liar. She hated people who had affairs. If you fell out of love with someone, that was one thing, it happened all the time, but to stay with someone and start romancing someone else – that just wasn’t on. She didn’t hold that what had happened with Gerry was quite the same thing, because she hadn’t slept with Gerry and what was happening (had happened?), wasn’t what could be described as a relationship, as such. But she knew that things might go that way and, anyway, she didn’t love Ed and that was the point, wasn’t it? Being honest.

  She was starving. She’d been in such a hurry to get up to Gerry that she hadn’t had her second break. She thought she might go to the 24 hour cafe in the concourse. She’d walked past it a few times and it looked okay. She hurried down the stairs to the main level, imagining a cup of tea and a bacon roll.

  As she turned the corner into the beige and grey concourse she was able to see the whole sweep of the hospital’s arrivals area. There were more people about than she had imagined. Several doctors stood around reception area chatting in their scrubs and hitting each other around the shoulders with what looked like clip boards. A solitary cleaner ran a mop backwards and forwards over a square meter of lino. Laurie shook her head at the man’s sloppiness. Pat would have been furious. His line manager must be a great deal more lenient. She was probably smoking out the front of the hospital. Pat had no time for cleaning managers who didn’t have her evangelical zeal. Laurie could see her point. How hard was it to just keep things clean? She hadn’t yet carried this through to her own flat, but she was hopeful that, by some sort of domestic osmosis, her own home would start to become gradually more organised and nice to be in. But she knew that, soon enough, too soon to encourage her to really get her shit together, she’d be moving out. But she didn’t want to think about that now.

  There were only three tables occupied at the cafe. Two nurses silently drinking tea at the same table, an old man reading the paper and a guy sitting at the back wall under the enormous 70s tapestry that made everything else look tiny. He had his back to her but she realised immediately that it was Gerry. She decided to watch him for a while, see the lie of the land. She walked around the perimeter of the cafe and stood behind an abandoned health stand so that she could gain a better view of him. She picked out a leaflet on psoriasis and perused the needlessly graphic photos. Shuddering, she looked over at Gerry. He was leaning his head o
n his hand and was surrounded by the remains of what looked like a cooked breakfast and several cups of tea.

  She sighed and put the leaflet back, hiding it behind a leaflet on vitamins. He didn’t look at all happy. Laurie walked towards him hesitantly. Would he want to see her? His look of dejection encouraged her; surely he’d want to see a friend? As she came closer, she could see more of his face. His eyes were puffy and he was none too clean. What she’d really like to do with Gerry was get him bathed and shaved – see what he was really like under all that. Without the slightest attempt at hiding it, he took a hip flask out of his jacket pocket and took a drink. This looks like trouble, she thought.

  He looked up at her suddenly; he must have felt her staring at him. For a second, it was as if he didn’t recognise her, but Laurie watched realisation unfold across his face and stood waiting for a sign to proceed. He attempted a smile so she stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. He reached out and pulled her close, pushing his face against her. Laurie held on to his head and felt him breathing heavily, rapidly into her jumper. She waited while his breathing calmed and he gave her one final squeeze. She could feel the flask in his hand pressing into her back. She sat down next to him at the table.

  ‘‘Hi.’’ She pushed the used crockery to the other side of the table. She nodded at the hip flask which he was still holding. ‘‘Is it that bad?’’

  He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him again. It was an awkward position. Her head was at an uncomfortable angle and she had the distinct impression that Gerry might start to cry. No one was looking at them but Laurie wasn’t greatly concerned about that. It was more that she suspected Gerry had been stopping himself from crying for a long time so might keep going and Laurie wouldn’t have the slightest idea of what to do with him.

  She disentangled herself.

  ‘‘Can I get you anything?’’ She fumbled in her pocket for her purse and looked over towards the serving area.

  ‘‘No.’’ Gerry put his hand on her forearm and when she tried to stand up he held her down. ‘‘Stay a minute. I need to talk to you.’’ He put the flask away in his pocket.

  She forced herself to face him. He scanned across her face and back again. Irritation rose up in her.

  ‘‘What?’’ She tried to sound patient, but it was there, that tone of annoyance. Gerry didn’t appear to have noticed. To be so unaware of other people, thought Laurie, it must be so freeing not to notice what other people were thinking.

  ‘‘Laurie.’’ He shook his head slowly.

  ‘‘Yes?’’

  He shook his head again.

  ‘‘What Gerry?’’

  ‘‘I just … I feel terrible about what happened.’’

  ‘‘Do you?’’ asked Laurie. She’d so wanted to come and see him after what Pat had told her, but now she didn’t know if she had the stamina for all this.

  She hated it when men cried. It was heart breaking and irritating at the same time. It used to be that you never saw men crying. When she was growing up she would have thought it more likely for her dad to fly than burst into tears. But now men were crying all the time. Elaborately, shoulder-shakingly. God, the Princess Diana effect.

  The TV made it seem as if men had to be sharing their feelings all the time and that inevitably led to much wailing and gnashing of teeth. She wished men would revert to strong silence. Even her dad was at it now. When her mum died she’d seen him, wet faced and seemingly free of shame. She suspected her dad wasn’t even particularly heart-broken by her mum’s death. It was if he was taking the opportunity to have a cry. Get some sympathy. Maybe that was too harsh, but it wasn’t like he gave her any sympathy at the time – and it was her mother who’d died.

  She stood for a moment imagining the outside of her family house. She pictured the front cut away like a doll’s house revealing the life of her father. He was in the living room watching TV. The same as before. Except now he’d have to make his own tea. She wondered what sort of things he’d make for himself. She liked to think he was trying new things or eating out more, but she knew it would all be heated up items. Maybe she should just move Ed into her dad’s house. They could live quite nicely actually. If she moved Ed’s mum in as well that would be perfect. Ed’s mum would love it. Ed would love it too. Laurie’s dad would be delighted to be looked after again. Plus, he wouldn’t even have to pay Ed’s mum. Then Laurie could just fuck off and they wouldn’t need her at all. Perfect.

  Gerry handed her a five pound note.

  ‘‘Here. Get yourself something.’’

  She looked down at the five pound note and thought better of making a ‘‘thanks dad’’ joke. This was becoming too frequent a thing. She wasn’t a charity case. The money was old and tattered. Gerry was staring down at his tea again. She looked hard at him, willing him to turn his face to her. She knew he could feel her staring at him, but he picked up his spoon and stirred his tea slowly.

  She breathed out.

  He turned towards her.

  ‘‘Honestly. I’m fine.’’ He nodded. ‘‘Please, get something to eat.’’

  There was something about his tone that compelled her to go over and pick up a cheese roll and a can of coke. She handed the money over to the man behind the counter. He managed to serve her without looking at her at all. She was glad of it. She felt she might burst into tears if anyone looked at her kindly, or even politely. She knew that if that happened it would be like before, in the break room, but worse, because she wouldn’t be able to stop and she wouldn’t even be able to pretend to be mad because Gerry would try to help her and make it plain that she hadn’t escaped from somewhere.

  She opened the can standing at the counter and gulped back a big mouthful. The fizz went up her nose and her eyes filled with tears. She stood, fists clenched, reminding herself it was just her body having a biological reaction and that she wasn’t obliged to throw real tears in with the automatic ones. She realised that she was crushing her cheese roll. She took a deep breath, braced herself and walked over to Gerry, forcing a smile as she went.

  Gerry appeared to have similarly pulled himself together. They sat in silence for a moment, trying out various smiles until they both began to speak at once.

  ‘‘Look, about earlier …’’

  ‘‘Gerry, I didn’t mean to …’’ Laurie reached a hand towards Gerry’s arm and withdrew it again.

  They both stopped. Laurie nodded her head at Gerry. He took a deep breath.

  ‘‘Right.’’ He stopped again and stared at the table top.

  Laurie’s patience ran out.

  ‘‘Christ,’’ said Laurie. ‘‘I’ve never seen such fascinating formica.’’ She smiled mock-encouragingly at Gerry. ‘‘Go on. You can do it.’’

  The thing was, she didn’t want to be angry, but she couldn’t seem to switch it off. It was like all the times she’d said horrible things to Ed, even when the voice in her head was telling her to leave it alone. But sometimes she just couldn’t seem to keep whatever she thought zipped in. Other people must control that in themselves or there’d be hand-to-hand fighting everywhere you went. She looked at Gerry and tried to listen quietly.

  ‘‘Right.’’ He paused for a second. ‘‘I wasn’t very nice to you.’’ He picked at the table top. ‘‘The other night.’’

  She nodded, but kept her jaw clamped shut. She wasn’t going to help him out.

  ‘‘I haven’t had a girlfriend,’’ he shrugged, ‘‘for quite a while.’’ He scanned her face. ‘‘I freaked out a bit.’’

  ‘‘Okay.’’ She drew the word out. She should ask him what he meant, but she had a fair idea of what he was on about. What really mattered now was whether there was going to be anything happening between them. Otherwise why bother caring about him?

  ‘‘Did you mean what you said?’’

  ‘‘About slowing things down?’’

  She nodded.

  ‘‘Sort of.’’ He picked up her hand. ‘‘I know this isn�
��t maybe anything yet really. But I just don’t want to get all …’’ he paused and tightened his hold on her, ‘‘involved.’’

  ‘‘Involved?’’ She sat back in her chair, pulling her hand from his grip. ‘‘We aren’t involved Gerry.’’ She acted mildly outraged, put out.

  Gerry held his lips in a straight line and stared at her until she looked down into her lap.

  ‘‘We are though, aren’t we?’’ he said.

  The expression on his face infuriated Laurie. She took a deep breath. At this rate she was going to lift off the floor and float away into the night – an anger fuelled balloon. There was something about the sight of someone who was patently trying to be the grown up that provoked all sorts of childish feelings. Laurie resisted the temptation to throw her roll at Gerry’s stupid, calm face.

  ‘‘Look Gerry, it was you that was upset about it.’’ She jabbed a finger at him. ‘‘Not me!’’ Although, of course, she had been upset.

  He nodded, looking down at the table again.

  That had wiped the smug self-control off his face. Laurie sat back in her chair, relieved that he was on the back foot now.

  ‘‘Considering this isn’t really a relationship,’’ she said quietly, ‘‘it certainly feels like one.’’ Gerry kept his head down, saying nothing. Laurie started to feel as if she’d kicked an old dog and was just thinking about patting Gerry on the head when she caught sight of a young man entering the hospital, holding something to the side of his head. She was watching him wondering if he’d suffered some sort of side of head trauma which would lead to him fainting, when she saw it was Ed.

  Ed! What the bloody hell was he doing here at this time in the morning? Was he here for her? How could he be? She ducked down in her seat.

  She needn’t have bothered. He didn’t see her. He was too focussed on the mobile phone she realised he was talking into intensely. He nodded as he talked and gestured with his other hand. She hadn’t seen him so animated in a long time, perhaps ever. He walked within ten feet of where she sat with Gerry, zeroing in on wherever he was going.