‘‘Don’t think about that just now.’’ He squeezed her closer. ‘‘Let’s just take it a day at a time, eh?’’
It was easy to follow Gerry’s lead.
‘‘What we all need is some hot food.’’
‘‘I agree. What’s that saying about armies and empty stomachs?’’
‘‘Never a truer word.’’ He let go of her and took a step towards the boy who was still looking out over the fields.
‘‘Come on Jamie, let’s get out of the cold.’’
Gerry ushered them up the steps into the timber built café. Laurie went in first.
The place was straight out of the Sixties. The walls were panelled with wood laminate and there was a curved serving area with glass cases heated with lamps where various food items were laid out for the taking. The formica-topped tables had plastic squirty tomato sauce bottles and glass vinegar bottles on them. There were no other customers. A big clock in the shape of a tractor showed the time as nine am. She took Gerry’s wrist and turned it to see the time. It was half past seven.
She pointed out the clock and Gerry glanced at his watch and smiled. ‘‘I’d imagine time’s fairly irrelevant here. You two go and get a seat, I’ll order.’’
Neither Laurie nor Jamie moved.
‘‘Go on,’’ he nudged the boy’s shoulder. ‘‘I’ll be over in a minute.’’
‘‘Where would you like to sit Jamie?’’ Laurie asked.
He pointed, so she led the way.
‘‘Here?’’ she asked standing over the centremost table.
He nodded and pointed to the ceiling. ‘‘We’re right under the cow. My mum didn’t like sitting here. She said it made her feel ‘udderly uncomfortable’.’’ He smiled at her. He had a lovely smile, he was really a very attractive looking boy, when he wasn’t scowling.
‘‘Parental jokes, eh?’’ She laughed, although her parents weren’t ones for jokes generally. She wondered where it had gone wrong for Jamie. Maybe drugs or drink were involved. She wondered if there was a dad on the scene. Probably not, there rarely was these days. She felt some sympathy for the mum. Clearly it would be hard being a single parent. Lonely, too.
Laurie sat down facing the window and Jamie surprised her by taking the seat next to her. He glanced at her then pointed out of the window. The road was empty.
‘‘It’s like we’re the only ones alive.’’
‘‘I know. I always think that. I’m always planning what I’d do in that situation, you know, if there had been a disaster or something, if everyone else was dead and I was the sole survivor.’’ She had spoken hurriedly, excitedly and now she looked at Jamie, embarrassed. But he was nodding.
‘‘I make escape plans,’’ he said to her.
‘‘Escape plans?’’
‘‘I know, it’s daft, but sometimes when I’m lying in bed I think about what I’d do if there was a tsunami and the water was rising.’’ He was staring at her. ‘‘You know, which window I’d go out of, what I had in my room that would be useful. You know, that sort of thing …’’ He trailed off and looked down at the table top.
She reached out and touched his arm. ‘‘No, no, I totally do know. I think about that sort of thing too. Except I think mostly about …’’ She paused; she hadn’t ever told anyone about this. ‘‘I think mostly about everybody else dying of something like a virus and me being the only one left.’’
He was nodding again. ‘‘Yeah, I sort of like that one too. I think about going into supermarkets and getting provisions and building camps and things.’’
Gerry approached the table. He was carrying a tray loaded down with mugs and what looked like bacon rolls.
‘‘What are you two talking about?’’ He put the tray down on the table. ‘‘I was watching you from the till – looked very interesting.’’
‘‘Nothing,’’ they said in unison and then laughed.
Gerry raised an eyebrow at Laurie then started to dole out the breakfast. ‘‘This should be enough to keep you going.’’ He handed Laurie her tea and roll. ‘‘It’ll have to be – it cost a bloody bomb.’’
‘‘Oh, sorry, do you want some money?’’ She reached into her pocket, knowing there wasn’t anything in there. Not again! When this was all sorted out she was going to give Gerry back what she owed.
‘‘No, no.’’ He held his hands up. ‘‘Not at all, it’s my treat.’’
They sat for a few minutes in silence. Laurie felt that the longer they sat, the less she could think of to say. It seemed as if the other two were thinking the same.
Slowly the place started to fill up with other travellers.
She looked at Jamie. ‘‘Looks like we’re not the only ones left after all.’’
He smiled at her.
‘‘What’s that?’’ said Gerry. ‘‘The only ones left?’’
‘‘On nothing,’’ said Laurie, elbowing Jamie in the ribs. It was good to build bonds, wasn’t it? She could always explain to Gerry later. But Gerry looked slightly hurt so she put her hand on his forearm. He didn’t look up but smiled slightly.
‘‘So,’’ she asked, scanning the other customers. No one seemed to be looking at them. ‘‘What’s the plan here?’’
‘‘Plan?’’ asked Gerry.
‘‘Yeah, you know, with Jamie.’’
Jamie stared out of the window.
‘‘Well, I hadn’t really thought too much about it.’’
‘‘Well, Gerry,’’ she said pointedly. ‘‘I think we need to have a wee think about what the fuck,’’ she grimaced and looked at Jamie, ‘‘Sorry Jamie, we’re planning on doing here.’’
Gerry shrugged.
‘‘Gerry, this isn’t a see-what-happens, take-it-one-day-at-a-time, cross-each-bridge-as-it-comes type of scenario.’’
Neither of them seemed interested. She sighed. ‘‘Well, I tried. When we get arrested, don’t say I didn’t try.’’
‘‘Arrested?’’ said Jamie. ‘‘Why would you get arrested?’’
‘‘Jamie, I’m not being funny,’’ she said. ‘‘You can’t just go around whisking kids you don’t know off to the country – no matter how bad their situation is.’’ She sounded like a teacher, but, really, somebody had to be the grown up.
‘‘Somebody would have to give a shit for the police to be interested.’’ Jamie looked at her glumly. ‘‘And I’m not a kid, I’m fifteen.’’
‘‘I’m sure somebody is missing you.’’ She patted his arm.
‘‘That,’’ he eyeballed her, ‘‘is un-fucking likely.’’
‘‘Well, still …’’ She glanced around, resisting the urge to tell him to watch his language. She didn’t want anyone thinking she was a bad parent. ‘‘We need to be careful, don’t we?’’
She tried to look around the cafe subtly to see if there was a CCTV camera.
‘‘What are you doing?’’ asked Gerry.
Jamie started to laugh. ‘‘You’re looking for a camera, aren’t you?’’
‘‘I don’t see that it’s funny,’’ said Laurie. Gerry was smiling. ‘‘Gerry. It isn’t funny.’’
‘‘No, you’re right Laurie, it isn’t funny.’’ He smiled. ‘‘But, really? This place with a camera?’’
She glanced around again at the wood panelling and the lino on the floor and at the ancient manual till. She looked at the old lady working the till. The old lady was staring into space. Probably thinking about the good old days, thought Laurie.
‘‘Okay, fair point. But surely somebody will report you missing.’’ The boy looked unconvinced. ‘‘What about Ed? He’ll need to tell someone, won’t he?’’
‘‘Hah! Wee Eddy will do fuck all.’’ His tone was casually dismissive. ‘‘He’ll be shitting himself.’’
Laurie glared at Jamie, ‘‘Wee Eddy? Wee Eddy? What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’’ She felt herself half rise up from her seat.
‘‘Calm down Laurie. He doesn’t mean anything.’’ Gerry clamped his hand around he
r wrist.
‘‘Nothing, nothing,’’ said Jamie, scarlet. ‘‘That’s what we call him, ‘‘Wee Eddy’’. We just think he’s a bit of a … a bit of a tit …’’ he trailed off.
‘‘Who’s we? You and all the other kids hanging about in the street? He’s just trying to help you.’’ Who did this kid think he was?
He looked down at the table.
‘‘You know, if you go around being a dick to people that are just trying to help you then you aren’t going to get on very well, are you?’’ The boy tore his roll up in to pieces. ‘‘It’s just he’s only been around a few nights and he acts like he’s one of us.’’ He glanced up at Laurie then back at his shredded roll.
‘‘Isn’t that what he’s meant to do? Get to know you?’’
‘‘Yeah, but …’’
‘‘Yeah, but what?’’
‘‘He’s just a bit, you know …’’ He looked up at her and shrugged. ‘‘He goes on about gaming a lot and music and he’s just trying way too hard.’’
‘‘What wrong with trying?’’ asked Laurie.
‘‘Nothing, I suppose, but,’’ he looked around in the air trying to find the right words. ‘‘He’s like one of those, ‘‘just call me Frank,’’ teachers.’’
Laurie knew what he meant. She’d had teachers like that, trying too hard to ingratiate themselves and be cool. It was always embarrassing. She was probably so angry with him because she knew he was right about Ed.
Poor Ed. He’d be worried about what to do now: who he should phone; what her involvement was.
‘‘That’s how come I had his phone number. The youth workers don’t normally give you their numbers, but he did.’’ He looked out the window. ‘‘I don’t even know why I kept it in my phone.’’
‘‘It’s a good job you did or we wouldn’t be here,’’ said Gerry.
The boy nodded. He didn’t look convinced.
‘‘Look. We could turn around and go back now.’’ She looked at the boy then at Gerry. ‘‘It wouldn’t be a problem, would it Gerry?’’
Gerry was scowling. There seemed to be no reasoning with him.
She looked to the boy, but he shook his head.
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Are you sure? It isn’t too late.’’ She knew she sounded pathetic. She was talking too fast, too like a girl. ‘‘We’d be back in time for lunch. You could just say that you stayed at a friend’s house.’’ They should go home. They should finish their food and just get back in the car and go home and then everything would be fine.
‘‘No,’’ the boy said again. ‘‘I can’t.’’ He looked at Gerry. ‘‘I’ve come too far now.’’
Laurie narrowed her eyes at Gerry.
‘‘No offence Jamie, but would you be able to give Gerry and me a minute to just have a wee chat?’’
The boy looked at Gerry. ‘‘It’s okay. Just go and look at the gift shop.’’ He pointed to the far corner of the cafe where there was a display of tartan tat. He smiled and gave Jamie a fiver. ‘‘Get yourself a souvenir.’’
The boy took the money from Gerry slowly and nodded. As he headed over to the corner Laurie stood up and moved round next to Gerry.
‘‘Gerry, I don’t think this is a great idea. We don’t know anything about this boy, do we?’’
‘‘We know he’s in trouble.’’ His face was closed.
‘‘Gerry, to be fair, we don’t actually know that.’’
Gerry frowned at her. ‘‘Of course he is. Teenagers don’t go off with people they’ve just met for no reason, do they?’’
‘‘No, I suppose not. But what if he’s in trouble with the police? He’s not very forthcoming with the facts, is he?’’
‘‘Well, neither am I, but that doesn’t seem to bother you too much.’’ He smiled. The sudden change was breathtaking.
‘‘Don’t, Gerry.’’
Now he looked serious again.
‘‘Laurie. Look, you might find this hard to understand, but there have been times in my life where I haven’t done the right thing.’’ He picked up a sugar container and tapped it on the edge of his cup. ‘‘Quite a few times.’’
‘‘But Gerry, that was different. That was in a war.’’
‘‘I’m not just talking about that. There have been other times where I haven’t been the man I should have been.’’ She nodded, not wanting to lose him.
‘‘And then, here comes this,’’ he scanned the ceiling above Laurie’s head, ‘‘opportunity. Right when I’m thinking about all these things.’’ He gripped Laurie’s hand. ‘‘It’s like a sign, isn’t it?’’
A sign? Oh God, what was he on? She would just have to humour him and hope he was just tired and a bit, what would her mother have called it? Overwrought? Overwhelmed? She tried to think of what her mother would have done in this situation. The churchy side of her would say to help someone in need – whether Gerry or Jamie needed more help she wasn’t sure – but her mother would never have got into this situation in the first place. It was one thing fundraising for black babies, quite another to do unplanned social welfare stuff after the night shift.
‘‘A sign of what though, Gerry?’’ She would just have to play it calm.
‘‘Well …’’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘‘It’s like a chance to be a proper … you know …’’
‘‘A proper what?’’ Then it dawned on her. Why had it taken her this long to twig? ‘‘Gerry, you cannot just go around collecting troubled teens to make up for your own fuck ups.’’ She felt her voice rising and struggled to bring it under control. She didn’t want anyone to get suspicious.
She glanced around. There were four or five tables taken. No one seemed to be paying the slightest bit of attention to them. Most of them were staring into space not talking. One couple were quietly murmuring and passing what looked like photos back and forth. The woman at the counter was watching Laurie but, by the look of her, she’d been around long enough to have seen her fair share of domestics in here. She smiled at the woman and the woman smiled back and started to wipe a cloth over the counter.
Gerry was crying. He wasn’t making a sound, his shoulders weren’t moving and his face was completely still, but tears rolled down his cheeks on to the table.
She leaned into him. ‘‘Oh Gerry, Gerry, it’ll be okay. We’ll work out what to do when we get to the cottage, okay? Okay?’’ She kissed the side of his face then glanced over at Jamie. He was standing staring at Gerry. She waved him over: it was time to get going again. She had to see this thing through. She couldn’t abandon Gerry now. She licked the salt water off her lips.
The Back of Nine
Sharp and Cloudless
They drove in silence. Laurie looked out of the window and watched Scotland unfold from the road to the sky. She wasn’t normally one for admiring scenery, but there was something about the cold morning and brittle sky that made the landscape seem clean and untouched. You could imagine that no one had ever set foot on the hills in the distance and that no one ever would stand on them. She wondered if Jamie was thinking the same thing, but when she glanced at him he appeared to be sleeping. She stroked Gerry’s arm. He didn’t look at her; he just kept his eyes on the road. She stroked his arm harder, trying to get him to look at her. She moved her hand down to his thigh and stroked his thigh. She moved her hand up closer to his groin and he looked at her briefly and shook his head.
She sighed and leaned against her window.
‘‘Is it far now?’’
‘‘No.’’
There were very few buildings out here and they didn’t pass another car at all. What would happen if they were to break down? What if that happened and it started to snow?
‘‘Gerry? If we were stranded, would you know what to do to save us?’’
He smiled. ‘‘For a bit, yeah.’’
‘‘What would you do? Tell me.’’ She snuggled down into her seat.
‘‘Well. Where would we be stranded?’’
&
nbsp; She waved her hand out of the window. ‘‘Here. Somewhere about here.’’
‘‘We’re not far from the house. I’d make my way for the house.’’
She shook her head, ‘‘No, no, where’s the fun in that? Just imagine there is no house and there’s no one else around. Just imagine it’s us and you need to save us.’’
He took a breath. ‘‘Okay. Well, first we’d need a shelter. I take it I can’t use the car in this scenario?’’
‘‘Now you’re getting it.’’
‘‘Okay, let’s see … Right: shelter first. We’d need to dig in somewhere. Make an ice house if we had to. Then we’d need to secure some provisions. Catch something like a rabbit or …’’
‘‘A deer,’’ said Jamie from the back. He was leaning forward. She knew he’d like this.
‘‘Yes. Or a deer. But they’re pretty hard to catch. I’d need a gun or – ’’
‘‘No guns,’’ said Laurie.
‘‘No guns? Hmmm …’’
‘‘It’s not a gun-type situation. You need to improvise. You may have one knife. But it’s a small one.’’
Gerry laughed. ‘‘Okay. Small knife: one of. Well, I’d make a bow and arrow.’’
‘‘Good, good. That’s more like it.’’ Laurie cosied down into her coat again and shut her eyes. ‘‘Then what?’’
‘‘I’d make a hole in the ground with a sharp stone that I’d find.’’
‘‘Like it,’’ said Laurie. ‘‘Cavemanish.’’
Gerry laughed again. It was nice to hear his laugh.
‘‘What’s the hole for?’’ asked Jamie.
‘‘To evade capture.’’
‘‘What? Are we on the run in this too?’’ asked Jamie.
‘‘It’s his training Jamie, he can’t help himself,’’ said Laurie from inside her coat.
‘‘Did you have to do a lot of survival training in the army?’’
‘‘A fair bit.’’
‘‘For the snow?’’ The boy must be leaning forward again, his voice sounded close to Laurie’s head.
‘‘For all sorts of terrains and weather situations.’’
‘‘What’s it like having all those people depending on you in like, life or death, situations?’’
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