by Nicci Cloke
When I finally got in with hands all red from the wind and the handles digging in, she was still sat on the sofa but there was a Jamie Jones CD next to her which hadn’t been there before with fresh crumbs on it, and I wasn’t pleased to say the least because that was new and that wouldn’t usually bother me but what with everything else I guess my patience wasn’t at its best. So I walked into the kitchen without saying anything and started putting the shopping away, and I threw the bag of brown apples away and put the fresh ones in their place proudly on the counter in her eyeline, and then I put the fridge stuff in the fridge and bundled up the plastic bags into a little ball and put them in the plastic-bag drawer.
I looked at her but she still wasn’t paying me any notice, and she was poking at the crumbs with a credit card, and I must’ve seen red just for a second because I marched over there and snatched Don’t You Remember The Future out of her hand and stormed back and slammed it down on the counter, and I grabbed an apple out of the bag and I knelt in front of her, right in her face, and I held it up between us like a magic ball and said, ‘This stops right now, Saf, I’m not having it,’ and both of us felt shocked and surprised at the way it had come out, so I lowered my voice a bit but I was still being really firm and I was still holding up the apple and I said, ‘Eat this, eat this for me, because you can’t go on like this, please, you just can’t,’ and she looked at it like it was poison and there was a moment of really horrible heavy thick silence, which covered us up until it was like time had stopped.
And then she looked away and her eyes went all blank, like she wasn’t behind them any more, like she’d gone back into her head and slammed the door on me and I felt like crying and screaming all at once and I just wanted her back, just wanted whoever this was to give me back my gorgeous, happy Saffy, and my hands started shaking and my face felt hot and then I just took the apple in my hand and I said, ‘Come on, Saf, just eat it just eat it just eat it,’ and I was pushing it in her mouth and she was trying to pull away and I was holding her head still with my hand all tangled in her hair and then suddenly I floated away in my head for a second and I saw what I was doing and I let out a sob and stopped. And she was staring at me, scared, spit and bits of apple running down her chin and tiny toothmarks in the pink skin. And I started to cry and hugged her so tight, still on my knees, saying, ‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry, Saffy. Please forgive me I’m sorry,’ and she just sat there and let me wipe my tears on her.
I sat back on my knees and let the tears stop and I said, ‘Please, baby,’ and I tried to make my voice stop shaking, ‘we can make this go away. We can be okay again. This is nothing. If you just eat the apple, it will all go away, I promise you. Do it for me. For me and you, babe. Please.’ And I held out the apple and my fingers were numb.
She looked at the apple like it was about to explode, but in the end after a few seconds she reached out and took it and held it carefully in her hand.
I let out a breath and said, ‘Thank you, babe, thank you, things can be normal and okay again, I promise you, I promise you. It’s all okay.’ And after doing a bit more breathing I stood up and said, ‘It is a bit nippy, isn’t it?’ because I knew she wouldn’t want me to watch, that it would take time but we had time, and if she could do that for me I would give her all the space she needed, and I clicked on the heating and I went into the bedroom and got my hoody and some socks out of the drawer and put them on and straightened out my windy hair in the mirror, and started thinking to myself what I could cook for dinner and then I strolled back into the lounge but she was gone. The duvet was still all whirled up with a Saffy-shaped hole in the middle like a walnut whip without the walnut and the apple was sitting on its own in the middle of the counter.
I went back to Lucky Chips that night and shuffled around a bit, wandering between fruities and tables, waiting for one of them to call over to me with their slinky green felt or their flashy bells and whistles, but none of them did. I was dead set on not thinking about Saffy, not for one second because I was tired of it all. I’d left my phone at home and for a bit being in with all the lights and the cards and the money did make everything else disappear. I sat on one of the tall stools by a fruity and spun around a couple of times, watching allthe colours spin by going wheeeeeeeeeeeeee. Colours and lights and pound signs going hello, hello, hello as they blurred past until someone actually did say, ‘Hello.’
I put my feet down and the colours and the lights and the pound signs all lurched to a stop. I shook my head a couple of times to get rid of the spinning and Win was standing there.
‘All right, Win,’ I said, once my head had stopped swirling. ‘How’s it going?’
She had on the same sweat-patchy shirt and skirt, which was shiny with those bits where you’ve held the iron too long but she was holding a tray with a pint on it and it was upright and still had beer in it all the way to the top, and she had a kind of floppy flower thing in her ponytail so I guessed things were looking up for her, which was nice.
‘Hello,’ she said again, shuffling her shoe along another yellow squiggle. ‘Good, yeah, thanks. How are you?’
She said the ‘you’ all small as if I was a tiny tiny person hiding in the carpet. She was all pink in the cheeks again, looking like she wanted to hide in the carpet too. I didn’t think I’d ever scared anyone before in my whole life, and I didn’t like it, so I gave her a big toothy grin and said, ‘Yeah, I’m sound, just a bit bored, you know? Thought I’d wander over for a flutter. Busy night?’
I could see that it wasn’t but I thought if I started out with easy questions she might relax and we could be mates. It was nice to have someone who actually wanted to talk to me and even though that sounds a bit desperate and sad I just wanted to make the most of having someone to chat to. She was looking about like she’d forgotten she was at work, and as she did the tray hand tipped just a little bit to one side and the whole thing started to slide off. My hand shot forward super-slow-motion-style and caught the plastic glass as the tray clattered to the floor, slopping a load of beer over my foot but saving most of it. Even though I had a soggy leg once again, I couldn’t help feeling like I was a superhero as she stared at my hand in wonder and delight.
‘Easy there,’ I said, handing her the pint as she slowly picked the tray back up off the floor.
‘Thank you,’ she said, with a bit of a stammer. ‘I’m so useless.’ She looked down at her feet like she hoped they’d just walk her into a corner so she could hide there.
‘Don’t be daft,’ I said. ‘Trays are hard. I can’t do them most times. My boss showed me this thing you have to do where you always make sure the weight’s in the middle. So if you have one pint, it goes right bang in the centre. And if you have two, they have to balance out, like this.’ I put an imaginary pint on the tray. ‘And then one here for three, and one here for four. See?’ She nodded, but I didn’t think she did if I’m honest.
Just then a big old hairy man in the corner piped up, ‘Is that my pint? I’m bloody parched over here!’ which made Win jump about six feet in the air and sent a fresh tide of froth over the edge of the glass. ‘I better go,’ she said. ‘I get a break in ten minutes. Do you want to …’ She fidgeted with the tray and her shoe and the edge of the table and anything going, and then cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Do you fancy a Coke or something with me? You don’t have to or nothing?’ and then she went to run away almost, like her feet had finally heard the plan to hide and started making a move.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Why not?’
She smiled so wide the top of her head almost folded over and fell off, even the flower in her hair looked like it was smiling. ‘Cool,’ she said. ‘Cool. I’ll meet you over there in fifteen minutes.’ And she backed off, bumping into a stool and knocking more beer onto the tray, smiling at me again all pink and then hurrying off to the thirsty man with the hair sticking out his ears.
I swung round on my stool a few more times and then I stuck 50p in the slot and
pressed the button and watched the wheels whizz around, feeling the same little lucky butterflies flapping up in my belly. I could feel the twinkly lights shining right through my eyes and flashing pink and yellow and blue all the way inside me. The wheels slowed down, chugging away, and I wiggled the stool while I waited, making my trainers squeak on the bar, until they settled into place clunk-clunk-clunk. Cherries seven watermelon. A cheeky little cherry peeking down at the top of the third wheel, so close but yet so far. And that cheeky little cherry was the one that got the next 50p out my pocket, same as the flat top of a seven poking up from the bottom of the second wheel got the fourth one out, same as the two melons all juicy got the seventh one out, and before I knew it I looked up at the clock and then at the bar and saw Win wandering over to the empty table in the takeaway place.
I pottered over and sat down opposite her. She had two cans in front of her, one pink and one yellow, and she kept turning them one by one to look at the labels like she’d forgotten what she ordered. ‘You pick,’ she said, looking a bit scared. I was going to say that she could pick but then I thought that would probably make her feel a bit in the spotlight so I took the yellow one because she struck me as a pink sort of a girl and she did look a tiny bit pleased that that was what she’d ended up with so that was a good start.
‘Cheers,’ I said, and I clinked the can against hers, which almost made her drop it. ‘You got much left to work?’
She looked up at the tiny clock on the telly, which was back to showing Fate Jones’s front door. ‘Three hours,’ she said, with a little sigh. ‘Ages.’
It was ages a bit, but I didn’t say, just said, ‘Hopefully it’ll get busy when the clubs kick out. Always goes faster when it’s busy, doesn’t it? That’s what I think anyway.’
I was talking a bit too much, filling the gaps so she wouldn’t feel weird about being silent. I know what it’s like when you feel like being quiet and everybody expects you to laugh and joke and sing and dance for them all the time. So I just let her be quiet and drink her can. After a bit, she said, ‘Do you want to be a barman, for like ever?’ Which really is a bit of a full-on question for a plastic table in a burger stall in the middle of an all-night karaoke and casino place, but that was okay, it was a bit of a full-on week all round.
‘Nah,’ I said. ‘I want to be a DJ. Or own a pub maybe. Either would suit me.’
She was plucking at the ring-pull on the can, making a little pling noise each time. ‘I hate being a waitress,’ she said. ‘It’s the worst ever.’
I felt pretty bad for her, she looked really down about it all. ‘You could go somewhere else?’ I said. ‘Somewhere with a nicer boss?’
She took a sip of the pink can and smiled up at me from under a long piece of brown hair that had slipped out of the ponytail. ‘I could,’ she goes, ‘but I need the money. I got a little boy at home.’
She looked a bit like she wished she hadn’t said that, so I said, ‘Ah, ace. What’s his name?’ Loads of my mates from home had nippers so I wanted to let her know it was okay.
‘Max,’ she said. ‘He’s five now.’
I smiled. ‘Cool name.’
She smiled too and pushed the sticky bit of hair away from her face. ‘Anyway,’ she goes, ‘if I stay here they might teach me to deal.’ I looked at her for a minute and I didn’t like to say but I didn’t think getting involved with bag and pills and that was a good way to provide for a kiddywinkler so I just went, ‘Bit dodgy that. I’d steer clear. Good money and all, but sticky business.’
She looked at me all confused and then she actually laughed. ‘No no no,’ she goes. ‘I mean cards, not drugs! I want them to teach me to work the tables.’
I laughed too, once I cottoned on, but she was looking all dreamy-eyed at the floor with the five or six croupiers shuffling their floppy cards. I looked too, at the one woman and the blokes, in their shiny waistcoats with their fingers moving in blurs over the decks of cards. After a bit I said, ‘That’s great. You should do it. Better uniform and everything. And you get mad tips when people are winning and that.’
She smiled a sad little smile and looked back at her can. ‘Yeah,’ she said, all in a sigh. ‘But I’m shit at counting. I try and watch but I can’t keep up. I was rubbish at maths at school.’
I drank some of my yellow drink and thought about what to say.
‘Sorry,’ she goes, like she wanted to change the subject. ‘Should’ve got you a pint. I forgot cos I’m not allowed to drink on shift, you know.’
‘No, all good, mate,’ I said, ‘Quite nice, actually. Refreshing.
‘Look,’ I said, after another sip, ‘if you really want to do it, just practise. I reckon you’ll get it in no time if you really put your mind to it. It’s just one of those things that looks hard but once you get the hang of it it’ll be a breeze. Don’t put yourself down – you seem pretty canny to me. Go for it.’
She looked at me all agog and she didn’t say anything for ages, and just as she opened her mouth like she was about to, the fat wobbling boss-bloke came stomping around the corner. ‘Break time over!’ he said, flapping his sausage-roll arms about and stomping off again.
She smiled at me, a very little smile that was hidden behind her hair again now like the spell was back on her and she was invisible again. She picked up the cans and took them over to the swing-lid bin, which squeaked like nobody’s business as it creaked back and forth in the empty space. Then she tucked her hair behind her ears and walked back over and stood looking at me. ‘’Bye,’ she goes. ‘It was nice to see you? Maybe see you soon?’
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ll buy the cans next time, eh?’
She touched the back of the chair she’d been sitting in very lightly like her fingers might make holes in the plastic. ‘You’re lovely,’ she said, and then she walked away. She tripped over one of the table legs on her way, but I didn’t really notice. I was too busy thinking how long it had been since anybody had said that to me.
Saffy didn’t come back for two days. I knew I should’ve texted Alice or Delilah and seen if she was with them but I didn’t, I just sat and stewed and sulked and listened for the door opening, which never came, and after a day or so I’d calmed down and I tidied up the flat a bit and put the heating on and a bottle of St Petrolsburg voddy in the freezer, and just thought to myself, Right, we’ll sort this out properly now, we’ll sit down and have a drink and chat all night like we used to, because at the end of the day, no matter what was going on, we always had each other and that counted for everything, it had to. So then I sat down and waited for her and waited and then waited a bit longer. And it was round about then that I started to worry and started sitting there running set-lists through my head like prayers and wondering how long is long enough before you start calling up important people.
But then I heard her key in the lock and that was a relief, but not for long because after that I could hear her stumbling about trying to take her shoes off. She wandered through and didn’t even see me sat there all disapproving like her dad, just floated around the kitchen, touching the drawer handles and the cupboard doors one after the other, and when she’d done a lap she finally turned round and saw me. She looked a right state, her pupils all big and black and the make-up smudged round them into big panda eyes and her face all grey and sweating in the dodgy flickering striplight.
‘Fitz,’ she sang out, shuffling across the carpet swaying, and she touched my face and I blurted out, ‘Jesus, Saf, look at the state of you,’ which I didn’t mean to, I meant to just think it but I was so surprised it slipped out. She never noticed anyway, just kept staring at my face and swaying away to herself, and in the dead silence between us I realised she was mouthing something, as if someone had hit her mute button and when I looked closer I could’ve sworn she was singing the Marvin Gaye one about sexy time we’d danced to in the kitchen a million years and miles ago, but the whole thing was so creepy that I had to look away and clear my throat all scared and awkward.
She just stared at it all frightened with her pupils going in and out of focus looking boss-eyed, and then she started shaking her head. ‘No no no,’ she goes singsong, and turned and skipped out of the room, and as she went I could’ve sworn she was humming.
I stood and looked at the door for a little while and I heard her in the bathroom bouncing about and opening the cabinet door over and over, open close open close. I started thinking maybe she was just stood there smashing her face into it again and again, but then I heard the shower click on. I sat down and picked up her handbag where she’d dropped it and I fished around in there and I got out her phone and found the number I wanted, and I’m not ashamed to say a tear did fall out my eye when I heard that first ring.
SAFFY
In our world today, the apple is a sign of progress and of wealth. It glows on the back of screens and phones and it reminds us that there are always new things to discover, new clever ways to be close to other people.
A long time ago a different girl, so the story goes, took an apple and betrayed her lover because of a whisper in her ear she couldn’t ignore.