Anna

by Amanda Prowse

  *

  An hour later, Shania sat on her bed, watching Anna rummage through a rectangular plastic sandwich box. She pulled out several small earring studs and began trying to match them up into pairs, which she then laid on top of the notebook on her bedside table. They looked shiny and tempting as they sparkled in the lamplight.

  ‘Tell me again where it is you’re going?’ Shania asked, unable to disguise the huff to her voice.

  ‘A flat near the Barbican. It’s a flat share with a spare room, or rather it was a spare room, but now it’s my room.’

  ‘So who are you sharing with?’

  ‘I’m not exactly sure, but I’ve met one of the girls and she’s a nursing student. She seemed nice.’

  ‘Sounds boring.’ Shania picked at the pearlescent pink nail polish on her long fingernails. Then she bit at a loose end and began yanking the varnish off in thin strips with her teeth.

  Anna smiled. ‘You think everything is boring.’

  ‘That’s because most things are boring.’

  Anna laughed. ‘You can come and stay with me. Get a pass and I’ll be your guardian for the weekend.’

  ‘Ooh, you can buy me vodka!’ Shania perked up at this prospect. ‘You should definitely have a party!’

  ‘I hate parties.’

  ‘How would you know? You never go to any!’

  ‘Ha, ha!’ Anna finished sorting through her bric-a-brac jewellery. As well as the earrings there were a few strings of brightly coloured beads, a couple of narrow bangles and a large plastic daisy ring. Next she turned her attention to her clothes. A white melamine unit now sat between their beds. The top two drawers were hers and the bottom three Shania’s.

  ‘So tell me about the job.’

  Anna’s face lit up. ‘I’ll be working for a company on Victoria Street that organises coach holidays. They drive all over the place – France, Spain, even up into the Alps. To start with I’ll just be stuffing brochures into envelopes, sticking labels on them and shoving them in the post. They send out hundreds and hundreds every week, apparently.’

  ‘Sounds—’

  ‘I know – boring!’ Anna cut in and they both laughed. ‘And you’re right, it probably will be to start with, but it’s what it can lead to that I’m interested in. Who knows, I might go and work in sales or another department.’

  ‘Jesus, Anna, you haven’t started the job yet and already you’re planning your promotion!’

  She smiled at her friend’s exaggeration, carefully pulling the wonky drawer front and easing it along the runners, not wanting to have to fix it again, before extracting a small stack of folded T-shirts and placing them in her old grey case.

  ‘If there are any clothes you don’t want to take, I’ll have ’em,’ Shania said.

  Anna nodded, keeping her eyes low, not wanting to be drawn on the fact that Shania’s plus-sized frame hadn’t a hope in hell of fitting into her titchy tops. ‘You can have half of my earrings and any jewellery you want.’ She nodded towards the shiny haul on the bedside cabinet.

  ‘Really?’ Shania beamed.

  ‘Yes, really. I mean, you borrow it all the time anyway.’

  ‘Thanks, mate!’ Shania gave her a double thumbs-up. ‘I can wear them when I see my dad.’

  Anna nodded, sticking to the strategy she’d adopted for the whole two years they’d been rooming together, not commenting on the fact that in all that time Shania hadn’t had a single visit from either her dad, her mum or her mum’s shitty boyfriend. The one Christmas card that had showed up, a year and a half ago, still sat in pride of place on the windowsill. The red tones had long since faded to orange, the edges were now curled and the bottom had suffered a little water damage, but Anna knew it would never be put away.

  Shania had wasted no time in prodding through the costume jewellery with her fingernail and was now admiring the three pairs of earrings she’d selected. ‘God, I hope I don’t get some cow to share with next. I couldn’t stand it!’

  ‘I don’t think you were that keen on me when you first moved in,’ Anna reminded her.

  ‘True, it took a bit of getting used to, having to sleep with the bloody curtains open and your lamp on.’

  ‘I can’t help it. I don’t like the dark.’ Anna had never confided in Shania exactly why they had to sleep that way, but the truth was that whenever she was in the pitch dark she always pictured her mum in her coffin and how she would have hated that. She remembered how her mum had loathed small, dark spaces, and she felt the same way. Just the thought of it was enough for her heart to miss a beat and her palms to go clammy.

  ‘But it turned out you were all right,’ Shania said, pushing the second of two bright blue glass studs through her earlobes. Twisting her head, she gazed at her reflection in the strip of mirror on the opposite wall.

  ‘They look lovely.’ Anna nodded in her direction. ‘I shall miss you, Shania. I love our chats before we fall asleep. You make me laugh and you’re kind.’

  ‘For God’s sake, girl, I’ve got a reputation to uphold – don’t you go telling everyone that I’m kind and funny.’ She sucked her teeth.

  ‘You’re all talk.’ Anna folded a red corduroy skirt from the drawer and placed it with the rest of her belongings. ‘Everyone knows you’re a softy.’

  Shania studied her friend. ‘It’s funny when you think about it, because you look timid, you’re pale and quiet, but you have a core of steel. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Nothing fazes you. I’ve hardly ever seen you cry and you never back away from anything. People wouldn’t necessarily know by looking at you, but you’re brave, unbreakable.’ She giggled. ‘Do you remember that time you saw a contender, a guy you thought might be Michael, driving a cab on the High Road, just under the bridge, and you jumped out in front of him, calling and going nuts. Banging on the bonnet. “Stop the cab! Stop the cab!” And he slammed on his brakes and wound down the window, wondering what the emergency was, and you said, cool as a cucumber, “What’s your name?” God, I thought he was going to run you over! You are class, Anna, pure class.’

  Anna paused in her task and turned to look at her friend sitting on the duvet with everything she owned shoved into cardboard boxes under the bed, beyond happy with her gift of cheap blue earrings. She took in their drab little room. Despite the camaraderie, and the stability it had provided for her over the past few years, it was indeed a shit way to live.

  ‘That’s not true, you know.’ She swallowed. ‘Yes, I’m quiet, but I’m not brave, not really. I’ve just learnt to not make a fuss – and I really want to find my dad. As for unbreakable...’ She ran her fingers over the grey suitcase, now a little saggy in places, its surface scratched and the zip having a tendency to spring apart. She walked over to the dresser and picked up the white paper napkin with the smears of chocolate and the remaining crumbs of her birthday cake. Unfolding it, she held the square open and showed it to her friend. ‘You can’t break something that’s already smashed. It would be like trying to put this cake back together. You can’t. It’s gone. And that’s me.’ She scrunched up the napkin and threw it into the bin. ‘I got broken when I was nine and my mum died. And then my brother died too and those fragments were crushed to dust. So you’re right, nothing can break me because I’m already broken. I’m dust.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re dust, Anna. I think you’re brilliant. I don’t want you to go.’

  ‘You’ll be okay, Shania. I promise.’

  ‘I’m scared,’ she whispered.

  Anna thought about the angry girl of two years ago and how such an admission would never have left her lips. ‘I know, but there’s no need.’

  ‘When you go, who’s going to look out for me?’

  ‘You, Shania, can look out for yourself. You can. And I won’t be that far away.’

  ‘I want my kids to be like you.’ Shania paused, as if considering this. ‘I want you to be their godmother so you can teach them all the stuff you’ve taught me.’


  Anna smiled. ‘That would be the biggest honour ever.’

  ‘Not that I’m planning on having any just yet!’ Shania tutted.

  ‘Glad to hear it. Only two more years and you’ll leave here too. Time will fly by, you know that. And when you do leave, you have to work hard, Shania. You have to work harder than anyone. Make a life. Get a job, any job, even if you think it’s boring.’ She smiled. ‘It’s really important that you find a place to live and keep working and keep saving. And don’t ever, ever take drugs.’

  ‘Might be a bit late for that!’ Shania pulled a face.

  ‘Okay, don’t take drugs again,’ Anna said, with a small shake of her head. ‘I mean it. They ruined my brother’s life.’

  ‘My dad’s too.’

  ‘Well, there you go. Promise me.’

  Shania rolled her eyes. ‘I promise.’

  ‘And remember what we spoke about that very first night? How it doesn’t matter where you start in life, it’s where you finish that counts – it’s not your first word but your last that defines you. And you can be anything you want to be. It’s up to you.’ She sat down. ‘And you know what...?’

  Shania looked up.

  ‘I feel really sorry for your mum and dad.’

  ‘Don’t. They’re arseholes!’

  ‘But I do. They might be arseholes, but I feel sorry for them because you are fabulous and they didn’t get to fall asleep with you for the last couple of years and I did. Their loss was my gain.’

  Shania sniffed away the tears that threatened and changed the subject. ‘Oh, this came for you.’ She reached under the notebook on Anna’s bedside table. ‘I nearly forgot! Looks like it might be from Jordan.’

  Anna studied the New York postmark and the familiar handwriting, then ripped open the envelope. ‘You’re right, it is from Jordan!’ She grinned as she pulled out the pink, glittery card.

  Happy birthday, darling! Eighteen? How did that happen? I wish you were here and we could drink cocktails and go out for steak! Not that you’d be legal, but since when did that stop me doing anything? Still waiting for my big break. Still doing terrible waiter jobs. Mum still hasn’t forgiven me for abandoning her, still writes weekly, asking if I’ve met a nice girl and when can she meet her. Incidentally, I have! Drum roll, please! She’s called Andrew and works in construction, but I take my cue from you again, oh wise cuz – all in good time and I think telling Mum face to face might be best. Anyway – eighteen! So you can now drive a truck, get married, join the army, oh and have all kinds of sex! (I have only done one of these and can heartily recommend it! And I’ll give you a clue, it wasn’t driving a truck.)

  Anna laughed out loud.

  I send you nothing but love, Anna, and can’t wait to see you again. And I also can’t wait for you to see me on a big screen in your local Odeon while stuffing popcorn in your gob... I can but dream. Do you remember my meltdown when we went to see Officer and a Gentleman? Still not recovered! Happy, happy days.

  Love you, Birthday Girl!

  Goldpie xx

  Anna folded the card back into the envelope and placed it in her suitcase. She thought briefly of her sour-faced aunt and dopey uncle, and, just like with Shania’s parents, felt a wave of pity that they were missing so much of their wonderful boy’s life.

  ‘I will see you again, won’t I?’ Shania almost whispered the unthinkable.

  ‘Of course you will, you dafty!’ Anna jumped off the bed and hugged her friend tightly.

  7

  ‘And the bathroom.’ The estate agent pushed gingerly on the door and stood back, as if what was in there might be contagious.

  Anna poked her head inside the space and decided he might be right. It was more of a cubicle than a room, but it would suffice. Nothing a good scrub couldn’t cure. A loo, a sink and a narrow shower, what else did she need? The main thing was that it would be hers, all hers!

  ‘The living zone is along the corridor and there’s a spot for a bike in the basement if you need it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Anna answered in her customarily succinct way, laughing on the inside at even the idea of her on a bike. Cycling was one of the skills that, growing up poor in a city, and then without parents, had evaded her. Ditto skateboarding and swimming. A patient teacher had once tried to rectify the latter, but Anna was a girl who relied on instinct and nothing in her instinct told her it was safe or natural to trust water with your weight, hence her tendency to panic and remain vertical, a neat trick in itself.

  She chuckled all the way back to the office. ‘Living zone’! In reality, this was a long, narrow room with a sink and a camping stove on the worktop at one end and a double bed and a wardrobe at the other. It was lit by two bare bulbs, which she was sure she’d bash every time she walked beneath them. The layout notwithstanding, the 1960s refurb was close to where she worked, saving on precious commute time and, crucially, she could afford it. That was really the only thing that mattered.

  In her mind she began the process of decorating, seeing her living space evolve over time with the addition of fancy storage containers for tea, coffee and sugar, and a pretty duvet cover. Excitement bubbled in her throat at the prospect. She wished her mum could see her, wanted to make her proud.

  ‘Well? How did you get on?’

  ‘I took it!’ She hunched her shoulders at Melissa, the other secretary on the floor, and smiled broadly.

  ‘Good for you! Will there be a housewarming?’ Melissa asked brightly, her heavily made-up eyes sparkling at the thought. Melissa loved a party. The sassy, statuesque American had only recently arrived from Boston. She had confided that her father, a dentist, had decided the only way to calm his daughter’s hedonistic appetite was to send her to a capital city on the other side of the pond, with a fully charged AmEx card and no supervision. In the words of Melissa herself, ‘I know, right! Go figure!’

  ‘No!’ Anna laughed, shaking her head. ‘There’s just about room for me in the place – it would be a very cosy housewarming.’

  ‘So when are you moving in?’

  ‘Week after next if my references come through.’ Anna’s thoughts turned to the shared flat in the Barbican where she’d been for the last three years, since moving on from Mead House. She couldn’t wait to leave the place. Night after night she stayed holed up in her tiny bedroom, keeping herself to herself, trying to avoid the slovenly students she shared with and impressing the landlord with her politeness and the potted herbs she tended on the small balcony. He was a keen gardener. She was confident he’d give her the reference she needed. ‘It shouldn’t be a problem.’

  ‘It’ll be nice living and working in Fulham.’ Melissa had told her more than once that her own commute from the office to the end of Lots Road, a mere fifteen-minute walk, gave her time not only to really wake up, and to grab a coffee, but also to check out the talent en route.

  ‘Girls?’ Mrs Glacier called from her office, which was set to one side of the open-plan area where they worked. ‘Might I borrow you?’ Her tone was pleasant, but there was no mistaking this was a direct order.

  Mrs Glacier had hired Anna on no more than a whim and she would for ever be grateful. Working for the legal firm was a world away from the dingy travel company where she’d stayed for far too long, stuffing envelopes and cleaning up, underpaid and underappreciated, while girls far less able than her answered the phone and got much better money. Now, when her morning alarm rang, she smiled as she reached over to switch it off and begin her day, excited about what lay ahead. It was for her a huge achievement to have secured an office job, to be stepping into a skirt and blouse and not a T-shirt and jeans. For the first time in her life Anna felt like she was on her way. All that was lacking was someone to share her achievements with, someone to hug her in congratulation, a warm body that would bring its own special type of comfort.

  She and Melissa walked quickly into the office that Mrs Glacier shared with Mr Pope. He looked after all the post going in and out of the lawyers’ offices, doi
ng his rounds twice daily with a three-tiered wire trolley whose compartments bulged with envelopes and packages of all shapes and sizes. Some were held together with fancy red wax seals, others with looped ribbons over brass buttons. Most of these were hand-delivered and signed for and much emphasis was placed on the careful processing of these vital legal documents.

  This was a large part of Anna’s new role: the sorting of incoming mail at the desk before passing it on to Mr Pope, along with answering the phone. ‘Good morning. Asquith, Barker and Knowles, how may I help you?’ This greeting changed to ‘Good afternoon’ after the first stroke of midday, of course. And Anna never got it wrong. In fact, she never got anything wrong; she was diligent and industrious, because she was a girl who needed her job and who knew that without it her life might just unravel.

  She was also tasked with keeping the diary for the partners, a most responsible job. In a large red leather-bound book she noted appointments and meetings, using pencil to allow for the alterations that were all but inevitable, given the busy lives of her employers. She booked taxis, restaurant tables, hotels and flights, made sure the birthdays of the partners’ wives and children were marked, nipped off to buy cards and gifts ‘From your loving husband/father’ during her lunch hour and without protest. She typed up letters and minutes, thinking once or twice of the boring, balding Mr Dickinson, ‘a council minute-keeper... a very responsible job... quite the keeper of secrets...’, which made her laugh.

  ‘Right, girls.’ Mrs Glacier clapped her neat hands together. ‘We are taking a leap into the future!’ Her eyes shone behind the lenses of her spectacles. ‘We are going to get you both a computer. One to share to begin with, to see how we all get on. It’ll be on a table by the side of your desks and you can take turns.’

  ‘What will we do with it?’ Melissa asked.

  Mrs Glacier pushed her glasses up onto her nose. ‘Well, you will be able to type letters and labels and such forth and then print them out.’