by Karen Osman
After that night, Alison and Laura became firm friends, bonding over hangovers, eating breakfast together, meeting up after classes and going out in the evenings. Alison was happy to have made a new friend so soon, especially one so popular. Laura was a social butterfly and seemed determined to make the most of university life, joining a whole array of clubs and societies. She made friends quickly, not just in St Hild and St Bede but also in other colleges, as well as on her history course, and she was always planning the next get-together. Alison often wondered how Laura found the time to study. While Alison clearly put in more hours in the library, the apparent lack of work didn’t seem to affect Laura’s results, She could produce a two-thousand-word essay the night before it was due and get a decent mark, whereas Alison panicked if she didn’t have at least three days to research and write her assignments. Considering how different they were, Alison felt pleased that Laura had chosen her to spend so much time with and it was a nice to know that she was only down the corridor.
That evening, Alison and Laura were planning to go to the library together. Alison had to finish an essay, which was due the next day, and she also wanted to start drafting ideas for some upcoming coursework.
‘Hey, how’s it going?’ Laura greeted her. ‘How was class?’
‘Not bad, thanks.’ Alison’s cheeks flushed slightly as she thought of The Professor, hoping her friend wouldn’t notice. She would think it hilarious if sensible, strait-laced Alison had a crush on her lecturer and she knew she would never hear the end of it.
‘Sooooo,’ Laura said, in the drawn-out way that Alison had come to know very well. ‘The library, huh?’
It was a tone that told her Laura had something much more exciting in mind than going to the library to work.
‘Now I know we had plans,’ started Laura, ‘but how does this sound? There’s a social at the Student Union tonight at eight – what do you think?’
‘But what about the library?’
‘I know, but I thought this might be more useful.’
Alison raised one eyebrow at her, meaningfully, not needing to voice her scepticism but not being able to resist.
‘Since when does drinking your own bodyweight in vodka become useful?’
Laughing, Laura brushed away Alison’s concern.
‘No, really! You’re going to like this one, I promise. It’s a student and faculty social so you get to mingle with the staff and chat to them about the course. There’s one member of staff from each faculty. C’mon… it’ll be great, and much more fun than an evening at the library. I can’t believe I even agreed to that in the first place!’
Laura said the word ‘library’ as if it was the most boring place in the world.
‘Well…’ Alison paused, a slight hesitation rising in her throat at the thought of all the work she had to do. ‘How about we do a couple of hours’ work and then go to the social for one drink?’
‘Really?’ replied Laura. ‘Is it worth going all that way to the library just for an hour?’
‘Yes!’ Alison replied, laughing. ‘And I said two hours, by the way – not one! Come on, let’s go before you find something else to distract me with!’
Happy to have got her way, Laura linked arms with her friend.
‘Me? I would never be distracting!’ she said, a picture of innocence. ‘But if we could just stop off at Superdrug on the way, I need a new lipstick. A girl has to make an impression, you know.’
Alison laughed. ‘Trust me, you don’t need anything else to make an impression.’
*
By the time the girls finished their work, had a bite to eat, and arrived at the Student Union, the social was well under way. It was busier than Alison anticipated and everyone seemed to be in deep conversation. Laura had disappeared to the bar to get some drinks so Alison tried to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible – not an easy feat at five foot eight, and carrying a large bag of books. Alison moved closer to the wall, accidently bumping someone with her bag. Muttering apologies, she found a quiet corner and sidled into the chair, hoping Laura wouldn’t get caught up in conversation at the bar.
Soon wishing she had never agreed to come, Alison pulled out one of her textbooks and tried to look as if she was reading it.
‘Mind if I join you?’ a familiar male voice said beside her.
She looked up and saw none other than The Professor. He was wearing a black jacket, white shirt and jeans, and she could see the end of a red scarf peeping out of his bag.
Glancing around, she double-checked to make sure he wasn’t talking to anyone else.
‘Of course,’ she replied. ‘Have a seat.’
‘Alison, isn’t it?’ he asked.
‘Yes – Alison Owen – I’m in your law class.’
‘That’s right,’ he nodded.
The next few seconds seemed to last an eternity as Alison tried to come up with something interesting to say.
Eventually, he noticed the book she was reading and, probably just to fill what seemed to her to be an almost excruciating silence, he asked how she was finding the course.
‘It’s going well,’ she lied. ‘I’m finding it really interesting.’
‘Are there any parts you’re struggling with?’ he asked, indicating the book.
‘Well, chapter eight was a bit hard-going but I managed it in the end,’ she stammered. ‘The question I had, though...’ she trailed off. Trying to locate the chapter, she fumbled and accidently tore the page as the book dropped to the floor.
Cheeks burning, she made a grab for the book, trying but failing to compose herself. Just at that moment, Laura turned up with drinks.
‘There you are,’ she announced. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you. What are you doing tucked away in the corner?’
Suddenly noticing The Professor, Laura exclaimed, ‘Oh, sorry!’
Alison wasn’t surprised when he stood up to leave. He nodded at Laura, then turned back to Alison. ‘Well, Alison,’ he said, ‘it’s nice to meet you personally – I remember reading your application and being very impressed with it. If you need any help, my door is always open. In fact, come and see me next week about that question you had.’
‘Thank you,’ Alison managed to say.
And with that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Alison with her book and pride in tatters.
‘Ooh, he’s gorgeous,’ said Laura after The Professor had left. ‘Is he one of your lecturers? How lucky are you! He does realise, though, it’s 1997 and not the eighties anymore?’
Cheeks still burning, Alison felt inexplicably cross on his behalf at the minor criticism.
Peering closely at her, Laura caught on. ‘Check you out – you’re all of a fluster. You like him!’ Laughing, Laura started to make kissy, kissy noises while Alison tried to feign nonchalance.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ she said. ‘Of course I don’t. He just caught me off guard, that’s all, and it is very warm in here.’ As if to emphasise her point, Alison removed her jacket, but Laura wasn’t having any of it.
‘Well, well, well, you a dark horse! How old is he? He looks like he’s nearly forty – sooooo old! But he does have something about him, doesn’t he? Not that I can blame you – the boys in our year still need to grow up, if you ask me.’ Laura adopted a worldly air. ‘Did I tell you that Steve dared me to finish two pints in one go? He thought he could outdrink me, but of course I showed him!’
Alison had no idea who Steve was but she was happy that the focus was off her.
‘Really? Did you do it?’ asked Alison, her curiosity getting the better of her.
‘Of course I did!’ cried Laura. ‘I’m a pro and now he knows it.’ Abruptly, changing the subject, she continued, ‘Come on, let’s go and mingle. There’s a guy I want you to meet who I think would be perfect for you.’ And at the pull of her arm, Alison followed her friend gratefully towards a group of students.
Chapter 3
Kate
Kate could feel the sweat d
ripping down her back. Her hastily gathered ponytail had come loose and escaped dirty-blond strands stuck to the back of her neck. With no time to put on any make-up, she knew her face was probably beet red, the dark circles under her eyes exposing her fatigue.
It was an unusually hot day for the North-East, and she had spent a frustrating morning shopping, getting her elder child kitted out for school. At five years old, her daughter knew exactly what she wanted and everything she wanted was the most expensive. And, of course, whatever she wanted, her three-year-old sister also wanted. So Kate had spent most of the morning using her negotiating skills – which were so well developed she could be a politician – to placate her daughters while ensuring there was enough money left over for the weekly food shop. They had been out since nine that morning in an attempt to beat the crowds, but it was still hectic as mothers – most with their children in tow – prepared for the upcoming school year. To make matters worse, the school uniform shop had run out of stock of some of the items, forcing her to traipse across to the other side of town, loaded with shopping bags and her two very reluctant girls.
With the folded buggy in one hand and the bags of shopping in the other, Kate constantly cajoled her daughters while directing a silent stream of swearing at the broken lift, as she struggled up five flights of stairs to reach their flat. The slight throb above her eyes signalled the onset of a headache, which threatened to turn into a migraine if she didn’t take some paracetamol soon.
It was only noon but the three hours had felt like three days. All she wanted to do was lie down with a cool drink and close her eyes, but with lunch still to be made, the washing to do, and trying to settle her younger daughter down for a nap, a lie-down was not very likely. Kate had decided to come home to eat rather than spend money on food in a restaurant, but not for the first time she wished she had simply taken the girls to a cheap fast-food place. However, she was determined to give her children the best and that included a healthy diet. She sighed. No one had told her it would be this hard. Well, she corrected herself, they had, but she hadn’t listened. It wasn’t just the physical demands of running around after children; the emotional energy needed was overwhelming. Love, guilt, worry, happiness, stress and fear made for a tumultuous cocktail of emotions, which saturated her days, and infiltrated her nights. She loved her children deeply – she would take a bullet for them – but she felt constantly depleted and rushed, with no time to replenish. This feeling had increased after her second child. It was more than double the work. Her elder daughter had been a much easier baby. It didn’t help that her younger daughter was a difficult sleeper and often woke up during the night. Over time, she had slowly given up and simply brought her into her own bed. It was the only way to get some sleep. Her husband wasn’t much help either. He worked long hours, had a long commute, and when he got home he was too tired to do very much apart from eat his dinner, which he normally did while reading the newspaper, and go to bed.
However, from next month, her elder daughter would be in school, Kate thought happily. She had done as much as possible at home to teach both of her children, and the free playgroup at the local church was a godsend. But now she could focus on her younger daughter who, possibly in awe or perhaps slightly overwhelmed by her older sibling, often got lost in the fray. Kate was uncomfortably aware that she had a different relationship with each of her daughters and while she didn’t have favourites, her relationship with her elder daughter was unquestionably easier. Her younger child was quieter and perhaps not as confident as her big sister, and Kate hoped she would flourish with a little more focused attention. She had already planned some outings for just the two of them. Most of them were free, such as a visit to the park, and walks along the river to feed the ducks. But she had also been saving a little of her housekeeping money each week and decided to splurge. She’d bought tickets for the large soft-play area in Newcastle, and invited her daughter’s playmate Emma and Emma’s mother, Susan. Kate had mentioned nothing to her daughter except that she had a surprise for her and although it was costing a pretty penny once you added the train fare, the snacks and the food, the look of excitement on her young face was worth it. Kate increasingly needed those cherished moments with her children, and the scrimping and saving often meant she went without. She couldn’t remember the last time she had bought something for herself. While she didn’t regret having her children for a second, she did wonder what her life would have been like if she hadn’t become pregnant so young. She was only eighteen at the time, and while many of her friends had babies, Kate had had other plans. It had been the late 1970s, after all, and women had a lot more options than their own parents had back in the day. Or she did have, until she met her husband. At the time, she simply couldn’t get enough of him. He turned everything she thought she wanted – university, a career – on its head. Within a week, she was in love. Within three months, they were inseparable, and within six months, she was pregnant. The pregnancy was a shock for both of them, but to his credit, he had done the honourable thing: told her everything was going to be all right, proposed, and married her. That whole year had been a maelstrom of passion and new beginnings, and at the time, Kate had felt it was romantic. They were in love with a baby on the way. What could be more perfect? It was only on the morning of her wedding, when her mother asked her if she was sure marriage was what she wanted, that Kate had felt a sliver of anxiety.
‘If you’re not sure, love, tell me,’ her mam had said. ‘Marriage is for life and with a child on the way, it’s not going to be easy. Your dad and I will always look after you. There are other options, you know. It’s such a shame to give up your place at university after you worked so hard for it.’
Kate had brushed away her concerns, along with the brief unease she had felt. ‘I’m ready for anything. As long as I have him by my side, I’ll be happy!’ she responded naively, kissing her mother on both cheeks.
Kate grimaced as she remembered those words. As always, her mother had been right. It was hard. Kate remembered bringing her second daughter home from the hospital. She had felt so happy when she’d brought her elder daughter home, so she couldn’t understand why she was crying all the time with her second. And the exhaustion was something else entirely. Kate became lost in her memories as she recalled trying to cope with a toddler and a newborn. There were days when she literally didn’t know how she was going to survive. She could never get them to sleep at the same time so she rarely napped during the day, and at night, she was feeding every three or four hours. Her husband did what he could but as she was breastfeeding, there wasn’t much he could do. In addition, her elder daughter, after being the centre of attention for so long, had severe jealousy issues. She had imagined that the little girl would be helpful, but it got to the point where Kate couldn’t turn her back for a second without her daughter taking advantage of the opportunity to try to pinch the baby.
Her mother had visited her just after the birth but in a two-bedroom flat there was little room. However, after hearing her daughter cry down the phone one morning from sheer exhaustion, she had got on the train and stayed for three weeks. Kate remembered her mother sleeping on the couch, not complaining once how uncomfortable it was. It had been the lifeline she needed. Her mother took her toddler and the baby out for a walk in the morning, letting her get some much-needed sleep. Eventually, Kate got into a routine and everything settled down but she still remembered feeling overwhelmed by it all. After her mother left, and at her encouragement, slowly Kate had started accepting offers of help and letting friends and neighbours pop in to watch the baby for an hour or help with the washing. Normally, Kate prided herself on being able to do it all, but during those months, she had no choice. It was either accept the help or go insane. It sounded dramatic now but that’s how it had felt at the time. And now, a few years later, she still treasured those friendships. She still visited her neighbour in the flat upstairs who had brought her a home-made casserole on the very day that the fridge was comp
letely empty because she hadn’t been able to get to the shops, never mind cook something. She still gave Margaret, next door but one, a bunch of flowers on her birthday, never forgetting how she had done a week’s washing and ironing in a day when Kate was running out of nappies. All in all, Kate felt she had come out stronger and with better friendships, but she still wouldn’t want to go back to those early newborn days. It was one of the reasons she had insisted to her husband that they have no more children.
And while it had become easier, it was still difficult. In the five years she’d been married, any illusion of romance had long since disappeared. Her husband worked all hours, they barely spoke to each other, and they were both exhausted. When was the last time they had gone out for a drink? When had he last asked how her day was or told her she looked pretty? Kate couldn’t remember. Not that she did look pretty, she thought ruefully. Lack of sleep had taken care of that. These days, if they did talk, it was about money, or rather the lack of it. When he had lost his job, it had taken a huge toll on them, both financially and psychologically. They couldn’t pay the rent or the bills, and even the basics, such as food, were a struggle to afford. Kate didn’t sleep properly for weeks worrying about it, and to this day she wondered how her husband had managed to sleep so soundly each night. In the end, she had gone to her parents for help. Kate knew her husband still hadn’t forgiven her for asking them for money – he said she’d made him look an incompetent fool – but she didn’t know what else to do. He just seemed so remote and unreachable. For the six months he was out of work the strain was unbearable. Eventually, he had found another job, but it wasn’t as well paid as his previous one – which hadn’t been especially lucrative to start with – and it wasn’t as close to home. By that point, Kate was just relieved to have him out of the house. The tension between them had become tangible. For all their troubles, she still loved him, but they were so far apart now, divided by stress, resentment and exhaustion, and she simply didn’t know how to fix their marriage. They could go out for a meal and have a little time to themselves, but these days they wouldn’t be able to afford the meal, never mind a baby-sitter, and Kate didn’t want to take advantage of her friends, who’d already done so much.