Anywhere's Better Than Here

by Zöe Venditozzi

  He came back down towards her. She felt like lying down and making him take over, make some decisions, be the grown up. He’d manage fine. But the ground looked very uncomfortable and, in fact, it would be hard to find a relatively flat bit to get comfy on. Gerry was standing on a lumpy bit of grass that gave him half a foot of extra height to look down at her from. She wondered if it was a flattering angle to be looked at. It wasn’t flattering for Gerry to be looked up at from. But nobody looked good from underneath. Not even models. She’d seen that on one of those reality modelling shows about which angles were good and which ones you must never let a photographer snap you from.

  Gerry climbed down from the bump and stood next to her.

  ‘‘What are you thinking about?’’

  ‘‘Isn’t the woman meant to ask that?’’

  He waited patiently for her to answer.

  She shook her head. ‘‘You don’t want to know.’’

  ‘‘I do. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.’’

  He looked at her so calmly that she couldn’t help herself.

  ‘‘Lots of things: models, nature, stupid questions, stillness, death, flattering angles.’’

  ‘‘Death?’’

  She looked down.

  ‘‘Are you thinking about your mum?’’

  She closed her eyes, but it was too late. She felt the wetness gather behind her eyelids. She opened her eyes slightly to let the tears out but it was as if that only encouraged them. She gave up and just let herself cry and Gerry grabbed her and held her. He said nothing, just held her up. He must have realised that she was close to letting herself drop. She knew that if she did drop, there was no way she’d be walking back down again by herself.

  Gradually the tears stopped. She was almost sad she couldn’t just keep going and going. She loved that feeling of empty, numbed exhaustion that came after a long and wringing cry. But this seemed to be a quick tip of a cry. Cleansing, but not quite rejuvenating.

  She sighed and Gerry gave her a squeeze and set her back on her feet.

  ‘‘Come on, we’d better catch up with Jamie.’’ She frowned. ‘‘Where is he?’’

  There was no sign of the boy.

  ‘‘Shit,’’ said Gerry before darting off up the hill and around behind a crop of pine trees.

  ‘‘Fuck,’’ said Laurie, suddenly feeling very ill-equipped.

  Later Still

  Drab and Drizzly

  ‘‘Gerry! Gerry, wait!’’ She struggled after him as he powered up the hill. He paused long enough for her to almost catch up with him, no doubt fearing that if he didn’t, she’d disappear too and then he’d have two fuckwits to search for.

  ‘‘He can’t have gone far, surely,’’ she said, feeling panic knock about in her chest.

  He looked back at her briefly, but all she could see on his face was worry. She realised he was muttering to himself.

  ‘‘What? What are you saying Gerry?’’

  ‘‘I’m saying: how hard can it be?’’

  He sounded furious.

  ‘‘What do you mean? How hard can what be?’’

  ‘‘I always manage to lose sight of the obvious thing.’’ He was talking to himself, not her.

  He had the look about him again that he’d had in the hospital. Only now she was responsible for him. She hadn’t been able to walk out of the hospital and never look back. Now if she went off (if she was even able to go off, which she doubted) anything could happen. If they did, it would be at least partly her fault. What was she thinking though? Things had already gone to shit. It was all much too late. She should have told Gerry earlier. ‘‘Gerry, Gerry,’’ she clutched at his sleeve. ‘‘There’s something I need to tell you.’’

  He shook her off. ‘‘Not now Laurie.’’

  ‘‘No, no, you don’t understand.’’ She pulled at him again, harder.

  He stopped and turned to her. ‘‘What?’’ He looked even more unhinged now, if that was possible.

  ‘‘Jamie told me that someone died in the accident he was in.’’

  ‘‘What accident?’’

  ‘‘The accident that brought him to the hospital, obviously.’’

  He shook his head, clearly confused.

  ‘‘Why did you think he was at the hospital?’’

  ‘‘I don’t know, I thought he was just there to meet Ed or something.’’

  ‘‘At that time in the morning? It’s hardly business hours, is it?’’

  ‘‘Well? What happened?’’

  Gerry stopped and put a hand up to the side of his head. ‘‘I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me anything much.’’

  Laurie stopped walking. ‘‘Anyway, why didn’t you ask some bloody questions, eh?’’ He stared at her. ‘‘If you had we might not be in this mess.’’

  His shoulders dropped. ‘‘I know, I know. It’s all my fault. I just can seem to get it together.’’ His voice was whiny and irritating.

  ‘‘You’re right.’’ She nearly jabbed him in the chest. ‘‘If you hadn’t been so hell-bent on being the big,’’ she paused, ‘‘saviour of the piece, this would never have happened.’’

  ‘‘Saviour?’’ He stopped and blinked at her. ‘‘What’s that supposed to mean?’’

  ‘‘You know what I mean.’’

  She backed away slightly. The expression on his face was close to being frightening. But she went on, she couldn’t help herself.

  ‘‘Obviously things went wrong in the army.’’ She said. ‘‘Obviously you fucked up when you were younger.’’ She looked away, knowing she was going too far. ‘‘But you can’t spend the rest of your life trying to atone for that stuff. It doesn’t work like that.’’

  Now he was on the verge of crying again. But she had to be tough.

  ‘‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, we aren’t going to get anything sorted if you’re just going to get all self-pitying.’’ She strode past him. ‘‘Come on,’’ she said over her shoulder.

  Why was she always the one who had to keep it together? At what point was she allowed to be a mess and just really let go? She had her moments, but that’s all they were – moments. She had a feeling that if she ever did have some sort of mental breakdown and ended up on a secure ward, within hours she’d be patting the nurses and saying, ‘‘there, there,’’ to the doctors.

  There was nothing for it but to press on.

  There were various little knots of trees as the hill ascended. Jamie could be in any one of them, watching them and laughing. Or maybe he’d gone off in a fit of pique and was now regretting his actions, but too embarrassed to show himself. Or maybe he wanted to come back to them but was injured or unconscious.

  ‘‘Okay Gerry, focus.’’ She stopped and looked back at Gerry. ‘‘What would you have done in the army?’’

  ‘‘I would have sent some privates on to scout the area out and I would have used the detailed maps I would have been issued with.’’

  ‘‘Your tone is not helpful.’’

  He scanned and rescanned the hill.

  ‘‘What are we going to do now?’’

  He didn’t seem to be listening. ‘‘Jesus, it’s getting dark. What was I thinking even setting off at this time ‘‘Fuck. We aren’t even going in a straight ascent. Fuck. I’m not even following basic training.’’

  She needed him to calm down and get focussed. ‘‘Look. It’s the stress, isn’t it?’’

  ‘‘What?’’

  ‘‘I said it’s the stress.’’ She made her voice calm and steady.

  ‘‘That’s what it’s for, Laurie.’’

  ‘‘What what’s for?’’ What was he on about?

  ‘‘The training.’’

  She looked at him blankly.

  ‘‘It’s so you don’t have to fucking think under great stress. It’s all about automatic responses, muscle memory. I mean, this is nothing.’’

  ‘‘Okay, okay.’’ They couldn’t afford for him to lose it at this point. ‘‘But what are we going t
o do now?’’

  He took a deep, steadying breath. ‘‘Call to him.’’ He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled the boy’s name a few times. There was no response. ‘‘Not panic.’’

  ‘‘Should we split up? Should I head back?’’ She looked up and down the hill ‘‘Should I stay here?’’

  What was the best thing to do? It was getting dark very quickly.

  ‘‘No. We stay together.’’ Gerry walked on again, calling Jamie’s name into the dusk.

  At first Laurie was too shy to call as well, fearing her voice would sound pathetic, but she soon gave it a go. As expected, her shouting was rubbish – sounding like Penelope Pitstop or some second rate horror actress. She couldn’t even yell convincingly.

  She scanned and rescanned the horizon. She willed him to show himself. Even if he was a bit injured it would be okay. Not too injured. Nothing spinal or in the head area. But a sprain, even a broken leg or dislocated arm. She could see that being okay.

  ‘‘Come on, come on,’’ she muttered to herself, stomping up the hillside. What had they done? Who the hell takes some kid from a hospital and runs off with them? Regardless of what sob story you got from them, regardless of how you might feel about the situation – there were proper channels for this sort of thing: police officers, doctors, social workers. They couldn’t all be useless, could they? There must be lots of effective, kind, organised professional people making sure that children weren’t abandoned or murdered by callous or hapless parents.

  Who were she and Gerry to think that they knew better? And now what had happened? They’d gone and bloody lost this child. Instead of being the heroes of the hour – plucking a child from abuse, riding off on a white charger to a warm and loving foster family – they would be the villains.

  Gerry was tramping up the hill in a zig-zag shape. She hurried after him as best she could. It would be typical if she got herself lost.

  Then she saw a flick of something. It was hard to tell in the thickening twilight. It was probably a rabbit or a sheep or something. She strained hard to make out the movement at the edge of a stand of trees.

  ‘‘Look, is that something up there?’’ she asked, pulling at Gerry’s sleeve.

  ‘‘No.’’

  ‘‘No, it is.’’ She pointed up repeatedly, uselessly. ‘‘Look!’’ Gerry couldn’t make anything out. ‘‘Look!’’ She pulled at his sleeve again.

  ‘‘I am. There isn’t anything.’’ He shook her off.

  ‘‘Look harder!’’

  The boy came into focus as he moved towards them. His face became visible as he stumbled over the loose rocks and Laurie recognised the fear and gathering shame. He sat down heavily.

  A little ‘‘oh!’’ escaped from Laurie. They both rushed towards him but he stood up again holding a hand out to show he was okay.

  There was no point in telling him off. Probably the last little while had been punishment enough. She knew she would have imagined all sorts if she’d been alone on the verge of darkness on a hill in winter. All sorts of things.

  ‘‘Jamie!’’ yelled Gerry.

  ‘‘Don’t,’’ she stayed Gerry with a little nip on his arm. ‘‘Don’t say anything. Don’t frighten him.’’

  Jamie jumped down from a little rocky outcrop above where she and Gerry had stopped. He stood silently, waiting for his talking to.

  She put an arm around the boy’s shoulders and he suffered the touch for a long minute. She could feel his heart banging and wondered if he could feel hers.

  Then he stepped away and started to walk back down the hill. There was no need to say anything.

  Gerry stared after the boy, his face knotted in thought. Perhaps now he was realising they had to get in the car and take him home. Get shot of him immediately. Then he set off after Jamie who was making quick work of the rest of the hill.

  Again, Laurie followed.

  Evening

  Clouds Gathering

  They managed to maintain their silence until they were inside the cottage. Then Gerry started up.

  ‘‘What were you thinking?’’ he asked, his voice much too loud in the little hallway and his height making him seem to loom over the others.

  Jamie wasn’t going to be cowed. He squared up to Gerry, his hands fisted. ‘‘What were you thinking?’’

  Gerry’s shoulders dropped down a little. He shook his head. ‘‘Just to go for a walk.’’ He opened the door to the living room as he spoke.

  ‘‘Not then,’’ the boy said.

  ‘‘What?’’

  Gerry and the boy stared at each other. Neither seemed able to back down.

  Laurie touched Gerry on the arm; he obviously couldn’t think straight. ‘‘At the hospital, Gerry.’’

  ‘‘You said you were in trouble.’’ Gerry said. ‘‘I wanted to help you.’’

  Jamie snorted. ‘‘You wanted to help me?’’

  Laurie glanced between the two of them. Gerry looked exhausted and Jamie’s face had an unpleasant sneer.

  ‘‘Come on in here,’’ Laurie said, ushering them into the living room. ‘‘There’s still a bit of a fire left.’’ She nudged Gerry. ‘‘Come on, let’s get warmed up.’’

  Neither Gerry nor Jamie moved. Gerry stared into the fire and the boy stared at Gerry. The boy obviously had more to say but she couldn’t be bothered trying to get it out of him.

  Why did teenagers have to make everything about themselves all the time?

  ‘‘Look. We’re all knackered.’’ She put her hand on the boy’s elbow and he stared down at her hand, forcing her to drop it. She persevered. ‘‘Things will look better in the morning.’’

  The boy smirked.

  ‘‘Really Laurie? Things’ll really look better in the morning?’’ His tone couldn’t have been any more sarcastic. He sounded like a teenage caricature on a comedy show.

  ‘‘Sometimes Jamie,’’ she said, trying hard to sound reasonable and patient, ‘‘people say things because they happen to be true.’’

  ‘‘Whatever.’’ That tone! It was so slappable.

  It was hard trying to like him, he wasn’t exactly easy company. She was fast coming to the realisation that the problems he said he was having at home were probably because he was such a little shit. Still. She was in this situation now and falling out with him wasn’t going to help anyone. Perhaps if she tried to imagine he was a difficult customer at work; that might help. She had received some training on difficult customers, but it was so vague as to be pretty much useless and what she used to do was hang up on them and then pretend she was still speaking to them very politely so that her supervisor wouldn’t know.

  Anyway, Jamie was as sharp as anything. He’d know she was patronising him straight away and it would only cause more trouble. She rubbed her eyes trying to think of the best thing to do. Gerry was standing, shoulders slumped, in front of the fire. The boy looked at him with undisguised irritation, then bent to the fire and started poking about and blowing on to the little flames he eked out.

  ‘‘Good stuff Jamie.’’ She knew she sounded like a Brown Owl, but she couldn’t help it. ‘‘Why don’t I get some food together then we can have a chat. OK?’’ Gerry didn’t look at her but just kept looking at the fireplace. To be fair, Jamie turned and nodded very seriously. She had to try and remember that he was only fifteen, just a kid. This had to be a very weird situation for him, being in the company of two complete strangers in a strange place, especially at this time of the year.

  ‘‘Okay.’’ She stood with her hand on the door. ‘‘Will you be okay?’’

  Gerry nodded, looking at her for a moment. The boy nodded too and slumped back in the chair, eyes closed.

  ‘‘Are you sure?’’

  The boy’s face creased into a tough guy sneer, but he still didn’t open his eyes. ‘‘Obviously.’’

  She walked out of the room before she did something rash.

  In the kitchen Gerry had unpacked the few items of food they’d manag
ed to scavenge from his flat. There were two tins each of beans and chopped tomatoes. There was also a packet of instant potatoes and a bag of porridge.

  ‘‘Ace,’’ she muttered to herself. She rooted around in the cupboards for more stuff, eventually finding some tins of soup. There were two vegetable soups and one minestrone. She opened them up and dumped them into a stock pot and put the stove on. While that heated up she leaned her elbows on the window sill and looked out of the window. It was pretty much black outside now and she couldn’t make out much except for the edge of Gerry’s granny’s car which was parked at the side of the house and the shape of the outbuilding and the ominous looking outline of the woods. She strained to make out individual trees, but it was useless. There was just the darkness of the sky and the darker still mass of the trees. She had an instinctive fear of the woods at any time of day – never mind at night. The problem with woods was you had no idea what was going on in there. The first few trees might seem safe enough, but who knew what was lurking within?

  ‘‘What are you looking at?’’ Jamie was standing next to her. She’d been so intent on thinking about what was going on outside that she’d paid no attention to what was going on in here. She felt wrong footed, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.

  ‘‘The woods.’’ She nodded towards them.

  He squinted out at them. ‘‘I can’t see anything.’’

  ‘‘No. Neither could I.’’

  They stood staring out into the unseeable trees. After a moment, she said, ‘‘What do you think’s going on in there?’’

  She watched their thin reflections in the window and saw him turning towards her. He was smiling – this was a variation on the last person on earth thing.

  ‘‘Bears, stags, prehistoric beasts.’’

  She nodded. ‘‘Yeah. And hobos, lost children, aliens.’’

  He laughed. ‘‘Bigfoot.’’

  ‘‘Yeah. Bigfoot.’’

  He smiled shyly at her. She frowned. ‘‘Why did you go off like that?’’

  He shrugged. ‘‘I just got further ahead of you two and I wanted to just,’’ he sighed, ‘‘sit down on my own for a bit.’’