The Driver

by Mandasue Heller

  Just not enough to make him move back in, it seemed.

  About to head up to the third floor, Joe hesitated when a man started coming down with a stocky white pitbull-type dog on a short chain. Seeing him, the dog immediately began to snarl and strain to get at him.

  ‘Pack it in!’ the man barked, yanking its chain so hard that it yelped.

  ‘Cheers,’ Joe said gratefully. ‘Thought I was a gonner for a minute there.’

  ‘You what?’ Drawing level, the man stopped and gave him an aggressive stare.

  ‘I said cheers,’ Joe repeated calmly, wondering what the hell the man had thought he’d said to make him react like this. ‘Don’t know what it is, but me and dogs just don’t get along.’

  A slight sneer replacing the scowl now, the man said, ‘It’s fear, mate. They smell it.’

  Sensing that he’d just narrowly avoided a fight – which he’d have had no chance of winning – Joe shook his head and continued on up to his flat.

  ‘Excuse me . . .’ someone called out in a loud whisper just as he was about to open his door. ‘You haven’t got a spare fag, have you?’

  Turning, he smiled when he saw the girl that he now knew was called Mel peeping out through a crack in her door. ‘Sorry, I haven’t.’

  ‘Never mind.’ She sighed. ‘I’ll get dressed and pop down to Cheryl’s. Did you manage to fix that thing for her, by the way?’

  ‘Yeah. It was just some socks blocking the pipe. Nothing major.’

  ‘She came to ask Carl to do it,’ Mel went on, opening the door a little wider and leaning against the frame. ‘But he’s not here just now so I told her to come to you. Didn’t mind, did you?’

  ‘No, it was no problem,’ Joe replied, keeping his gaze firmly on her face because she was wearing one of the shortest dressing gowns he’d ever seen and he didn’t want her to think he was leering.

  ‘I keep telling her to get rid of the stupid thing, but she says she can’t afford a new one,’ Mel told him, smiling slyly as she added, ‘Don’t be surprised if she comes knocking again now she knows you can fix things.’

  ‘I’m sure her boyfriend will manage if it goes wrong again,’ Joe said, slotting his key into the lock.

  Tutting, Mel said, ‘Great. I can’t go down if he’s there. I’ll have to wait for Carl to get out – I mean home,’ she corrected herself quickly. ‘Unless . . .’ Biting her lip, she gave Joe a sheepish look. ‘Don’t suppose you could lend me a fiver?’

  Joe had vowed not to get into any of that lending and borrowing stuff when he moved here but now that he’d been asked he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. Saying, ‘Give me a minute, I’ll see if I’ve got it,’ he left his door ajar and went inside.

  He was just counting through the change he kept in a saucer on the dressing table when he heard the creak of floorboards behind him. Snapping his head around, he was surprised to see Mel looking in at him from the hallway.

  ‘Thought I’d save you the trouble of bringing it over,’ she said, her gaze flitting around the room. ‘Wow, this is so different from how Cynthia used to have it. You’ve got it really nice.’

  ‘I haven’t really done anything,’ Joe told her, passing the money over and stepping towards the door to indicate that he wanted out of there. Cheryl hadn’t mentioned why Carl had been arrested but if it was something minor he could be home at any time, and Joe didn’t think he’d be too pleased to find his girlfriend in here dressed like she’d just hopped out of bed.

  ‘Must be your stuff making it look better,’ Mel said, reaching down to stroke his quilt cover. ‘I like this colour. Very sexy. Bet you’re single?’

  ‘Mmm,’ Joe murmured, wondering where this sudden familiarity had come from. He’d seen her in the corridor a few times but this was the first time they’d ever actually spoken. He didn’t know if this was her idea of being neighbourly or if she was trying it on because her boyfriend was out of the way, but either way he didn’t like it.

  ‘Do you mind if I have a look what you’ve done to the rest of it?’ Mel asked, already strolling towards the living room.

  Following, Joe stopped in the doorway, hoping that she’d take the hint and make this brief. But she sat down on the couch and reclined back against the cushions as if she was settling in for the day.

  ‘Aren’t you tidy?’ she commented, casting an approving look around. ‘I like that lamp. It’s Ikea, isn’t it? I think I saw it in the catalogue. Well expensive.’

  ‘I got it from a charity shop, so I couldn’t tell you,’ Joe said, easing his sleeve back and glancing at his watch. ‘Look, sorry, I’m not being rude, but I’m actually on my way out.’

  ‘Aw, but I’ve only just got here,’ Mel pouted, crossing her legs and gazing up at him through her lashes. ‘And I could really do with a brew but I’ve run out of milk.’

  ‘Have mine,’ Joe said, rushing into the kitchen and taking his almost full bottle out of the fridge. ‘Here.’ He thrust it towards her. ‘I’ll get some more while I’m out.’

  ‘No point,’ she purred. ‘I’ve run out of tea bags as well.’

  ‘No problem.’ Going back into the kitchen, Joe grabbed a handful from the box. ‘Don’t need sugar as well, do you?’

  Realising that her hints weren’t working, Mel said, ‘Wouldn’t it just be easier to make me a brew?’

  ‘Sorry, but I haven’t got time,’ Joe said firmly. ‘And I’ve really got to go, or I’ll be late.’

  Sighing, Mel stood up at last. ‘Thanks for the money,’ she said, brushing against him as she passed him. ‘I’ll bring it round later.’

  ‘No rush,’ Joe said, grabbing his jacket and following her out. Saying goodbye, he set off down the stairs.

  Coming out of the main door a couple of minutes later, he heard the unmistakable sound of a man’s sexual grunting as he passed by Cheryl’s bedroom window. Guessing that she’d settled her differences with her ex he shook his head and set off down the path. Going from what Molly had told him and what he’d seen for himself, Joe didn’t think that Cheryl was doing herself any favours. But it was her business, not his. He just hoped that Shay didn’t persuade her to change her mind about the party, because he was relying on that to make some new friends.

  Cheryl had no intention of cancelling the party. Now that she’d decided to have it she was really excited, and was actually on the verge of telling Shay about it – sure in the post-sex glow that he would not only agree it was a great idea but might even suggest they use it as a celebration of getting back together.

  But before she had a chance to mention it, Shay brought her back to reality with a gut-wrenching slam.

  Relighting the spliff he’d left in the ashtray in his rush to get her out of her clothes, he said, ‘Right, I’ll have this, then I’d best get off. I told Jayleen I was only nipping into town to pay for the tickets. She’ll go mental if I go home without them.’

  ‘What tickets?’ Cheryl asked, thinking that he’d better not be taking the bitch on holiday, because that really would be too much.

  ‘Dubstep weekender in Leeds,’ Shay told her. ‘I was waiting to see if Bubba Ranks got his visa before I booked it ’cos it would have been a washout without him. But it came up on the website last night that he got it, so it’s a deffo.’

  ‘Wow,’ Cheryl muttered sarcastically. ‘You must be made up.’

  ‘Can’t wait,’ Shay said. ‘And Jayleen’s well looking forward to it.’

  Cheryl switched off as the familiar white-hot jealousy sparked to life in her heart. After sex, she always felt really close to Shay, as if he was still her man and none of this had ever happened. But it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the little telltale signs of Jayleen’s presence in his life. Like his hair: he’d worn it in the same style the whole time they’d been together but it was shorter now and always had some fancy little logo shaved into the sides. And he was dressing differently, too, modelling himself on the American gangsta videos that he’d started watching since moving
out.

  Cheryl wondered how he could afford it all, considering he pleaded poverty whenever it came to handing money over for his son. And now he was splashing out on a weekender in Leeds, which wouldn’t be cheap. But there was no point pulling him up about it because he’d probably only tell her that the whore was paying.

  God, she was such a fool – and, boy, didn’t Shay know it. But sack him. If he could make plans without giving a toss about her then she would do the same. And if the cat was playing away this weekend, then that was when the mouse would have her party – and just let him dare to try and have a go at her when he found out about it!

  Frankie started shouting in his bedroom, letting it be known that he wasn’t happy about waking up to find himself trapped in the cot with the sides up. Taking it as his cue to leave, Shay stubbed his spliff out and reached for his jeans. Cheryl had a sudden urge to rake her nails down his back but she resisted, knowing that the temporary pleasure she’d gain from imagining Jayleen’s face when she saw the scratch marks wouldn’t be worth the shit she’d get from Shay.

  ‘Don’t forget to say goodbye to your son,’ she said when Shay slipped his jacket on.

  ‘Nah, he’ll only get mardy if he knows I’m going,’ Shay said, patting his pocket to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

  ‘Maybe if he saw more of you he wouldn’t get so upset when you left,’ Cheryl suggested narkily.

  Sucking his teeth, because he couldn’t stand it when she nagged him, Shay walked out, slamming the door behind him. Frankie immediately began to cry. Inhaling deeply to control the rage in her heart, Cheryl snatched her dressing gown off the floor and yanked it on.

  ‘All right, all right . . . I’m coming.’

  5

  Joe had been out when Cheryl had called round later that day, so she’d dropped a note through his letter box telling him that the party was definitely on and that she hoped Saturday wasn’t too short notice because she really wanted to introduce him to everyone.

  He didn’t see her for the rest of the week and couldn’t ask what time she was planning on kicking things off, so he went down at nine on the night – hoping not to be the last, because there was nothing worse than walking into a room full of people who already knew each other but didn’t know you.

  Cheryl’s face was flushed when she answered the door and Joe could tell that she’d made a real effort with her appearance. She looked much more feminine with her long blonde hair loose of its usual ponytail and she was wearing make-up which showed how pretty she actually was. And the dress and heels looked way better than the baggy jeans, oversized T-shirts and trainers that she usually sported.

  He’d already guessed from the way she covered herself that she was self-conscious about her weight, and if it hadn’t been so taboo to talk to women about that kind of stuff he’d have told her that most men didn’t give a toss about a few extra pounds. But he’d made that mistake with an ex-girlfriend who had been a fair bit slimmer than Cheryl, so he decided not to mention it, sticking instead to a safe, ‘Hey, look at you,’ as he handed over the bottles of wine that he’d bought.

  ‘Aw, thanks.’ She beamed, giving him a quick kiss. ‘Come in, come in.’

  Grimacing when he followed her through and found that nobody else was there yet, Joe said, ‘Aw, crap, I’m early. Do you want me to come back later?’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ she chided, heading into the kitchen and putting his wine with the beers and spirits already lined up on the ledge. ‘What can I get you?’

  ‘I’m easy,’ he said. ‘Whatever you’re having.’

  ‘BVR,’ Cheryl told him, giving him a teasing smile. ‘Sure you can handle it?’

  Joe shrugged. ‘Might help if I knew what it was.’

  ‘You’ll like it,’ she assured him, twisting the cap off a bottle of brandy and pouring a large shot into a plastic beaker. ‘Sorry about the kiddy cups,’ she apologised, adding a healthy glug of vodka before topping it up with Red Bull. ‘But I know what my mates are like when they get pissed, and I don’t fancy spending all day tomorrow hoovering up broken glass.’

  Saying, ‘I don’t blame you,’ Joe took his drink and sniffed it cautiously. ‘Christ, that’s strong.’

  ‘Don’t be such a wimp,’ she scoffed, topping up her own beaker.

  A knock came at the door. Smoothing her dress down, Cheryl headed out to answer it. She came back a few seconds later with a couple.

  ‘These are my friends, Mel and Carl,’ she told Joe. ‘The ones who live across from you.’

  Joe hadn’t seen Mel since he’d lent her that fiver – which she hadn’t repaid – and he still felt uncomfortable about the way she’d followed him into his flat. But she’d obviously forgotten, or was deliberately making out like she had, because she gave him a polite smile and said, ‘Nice to meet you,’ as if it was the first time.

  Deciding to let it go rather than remind her and embarrass her, Joe said, ‘Yeah, you too.’

  ‘All right, mate.’ Carl extended his hand. ‘Joe, isn’t it?’

  Nodding, Joe shook Carl’s hand and swallowed a mouthful of his drink, shuddering when the bitter heat scorched his throat.

  ‘Got you on the hard stuff, has she?’ Carl chuckled, reaching for a bottle of beer. ‘You wanna stick to the safe stuff, like me. It’ll send you off your head, that shit.’

  ‘You’re such a girl,’ Cheryl scoffed, pulling a beaker off the stack to pour a drink for his girlfriend. ‘How do you put up with him, Mel?’

  ‘I pretend he doesn’t exist,’ Mel replied, her flat delivery making Joe wonder if she was being serious.

  If she was, Carl didn’t seem to have realised it. Giving her a playful slap on the backside, he took his beer over to the table and sat down. Reaching into his pocket, he hesitated and flicked a surreptitious glance at Joe before asking Cheryl if it was all right to smoke.

  Guessing that he was checking if Joe was cool with it or not, she said, ‘Don’t worry, he’s one of us.’ As soon as she’d said it, she remembered the tenner Joe had given her. ‘Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!’ she apologised, clapping a hand over her mouth. ‘I completely forgot about your weed.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Joe said, shifting his weight onto his other leg because Mel was leaning against the ledge beside him and had started to press her hip into his.

  ‘I’ve spent it,’ Cheryl went on guiltily. ‘But I can pay you back on Monday, if that’s okay?’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Joe insisted. ‘I’ve gone without for months so a few more days won’t kill me.’

  Carl had pulled a pre-rolled spliff out of his pocket. Lighting it, he looked at Joe as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. ‘You haven’t had any for months? Jeezus, I’m climbing the walls if I don’t have it every day, me.’

  ‘That’s ’cos you’re a junkie,’ Mel sniped under her breath.

  Catching it, Carl’s humour faded. ‘What have I told you about calling me that? You know I never touch that shit.’

  Unfazed, Mel held his gaze and downed her drink before coolly turning her back on him to pour herself another.

  ‘Oh, don’t start, you two,’ Cheryl moaned. ‘It’s my first party in years – don’t ruin it.’ Giving them a warning look now when another knock came at the door, she said, ‘Behave, or we’re going to fall out.’

  A heavy silence fell over the kitchen when she’d gone to answer the door and Joe felt awkward as the couple gave each other daggers across him.

  Cheryl bounced back in a few moments later, dragging two women in with her; one a slim brunette, the other a small chubby redhead with enormous breasts.

  ‘Look who’s here.’ She beamed at Carl and Mel before turning to Joe. ‘This is Lisa, my old mate from school. And this is Vee – she used to live on the first floor. And this,’ she told the girls now, ‘is Joe – our new neighbour.’

  ‘Ahh, so you’re the one, are you?’ Vee drawled, giving him a slow smile. ‘You were right, Chez – he is fit.’ />
  Hissing at her to shut her mouth, Cheryl turned to the drinks to hide her blushes. ‘What you having?’

  ‘Whatever’s going,’ said Vee, still eyeing Joe.

  Looking around, Lisa flapped her hands. ‘All right, where’ve you hidden my future husband?’

  ‘He’s at my mum’s,’ Cheryl told her, grateful for the change of subject. ‘But you’re not having him, so give it up. You’ll be sixty by the time he’s old enough.’

  ‘Er, try thirty-two, you cheeky cow,’ Lisa protested.

  ‘Whatever!’ Cheryl laughed, handing their drinks to them and heading for the door. ‘Anyway, come and see what I got him from Primark the other day. They’ve got a sale on, and I got a gorgeous trackie.’ Pausing, she jerked her head at Mel. ‘You too. I’m sure Carl can manage without you for a minute.’

  ‘Women,’ Carl said wearily when they’d gone. ‘Can’t live with ’em, can’t live with ’em.’ Grinning at his own joke, he said, ‘I take it you’re one of the sensibles, Joe?’

  ‘If you mean single, yeah.’

  ‘Wish I was,’ Carl muttered, offering the spliff to him. ‘Here . . . you must need it by now. And if you don’t, you soon will, ’cos that lot’ll do your head in when they get going.’

  Saying, ‘Cheers,’ Joe pulled out the other stool.

  Carl leaned back against the wall and peered at him. ‘Have we met before? Only I’m sure I’ve seen your face somewhere.’

  ‘You have,’ Joe told him, taking a deep drag on the smoke. ‘Loads of times, in the corridor. Or, should I say, I’ve seen you, ’cos you didn’t look like you’d seen me.’

  ‘I bet you thought I was blanking you?’ Carl asked. Rolling his eyes when Joe shrugged, he said, ‘It isn’t personal. I’ve just got so much crap in me head, I can’t see what’s right under me nose half the time. Me mates are always having a go at me for walking right past them.’