Before he could begin to consider this, Sushila went further. She wanted to speak frankly now. Len could be a little conventional, if not earnest at times, in his ideas about love. He could? he enquired. How was that? Well, Marcie was celibate and Mateo, they were coming to understand, might be a serial abuser. Otherwise they could be the model contemporary couple. Despite everything, they were genuine companions with an unbreakable link that he, Len, couldn’t grasp. No one had loved Marcie as Mateo had, and Marcie was devoted to Mateo. Even if he did something crazy now and then, which we all did at times, she stood by him. You had to respect that.
Len mocked the idea of a passionless passion. It didn’t make sense and was probably why Mateo was frustrated. Assaulting women made him feel potent.
Sushila said she didn’t think that was it. But, with regard to Marcie, she wanted to add that often we love others because of their weakness. And if we were able to keep all the crazy people from being crazy, well, who would want to live in that dull, bureaucratic world?
They had grown tired of discussing it, there was nothing to add, and the topic seemed to have been dropped from their lives, when, a week later, an invitation arrived. Mateo’s birthday was the following week and they were invited to the celebration. Sushila went into town and spent an afternoon looking for a present. She asked Len to promise not to say anything. A party wasn’t the time or place. Len vowed to keep his mouth shut, adding that he would sulk a little and maintain his distance, so that friends knew the incident had registered but wasn’t killing him any more.
However, once they got to the party Mateo, or at least a man who resembled him, approached Len immediately. Mateo had shaved his beard, cropped his hair, and seemed to have coloured it. Before Len could discover if this was a disguise, Mateo put his arm around Len’s shoulder and pressed his mouth to his ear. He wanted to have a word with him, over there, in a corner of the room. Would Len follow him, please?
Len had told the story to many people, Mateo said. Someone in Mateo’s office had even mentioned it. Now exaggerated rumours were spreading. But hadn’t Len accepted his apology and agreed to end the matter? ‘Do you want to stab me in the heart and make my wife weep all night?’ Mateo said. ‘She did that, OK? She cried after you walked right into her home and bullied her. And my assistant, standing over there, saw what happened in the park. He admits it was messy, but no more than that.’
Len pushed him away. ‘Don’t fucking stand so close to me,’ he said. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re actually a savage. What about Susan, Zora and all the other women?’
Mateo replied that everyone knew seduction was difficult these days. In these impossible times, courtship rituals were being corrected. In the chaos, those seeking love would make missteps; there would be misunderstandings, dark before light. Anger was an ever-present possibility. But it was essential that people try to connect, if only for a few hours, that they never give up on their need for contact. Otherwise, we would become a society of strangers. No one would meet or touch. Nothing would happen. And who would want that? Of course, Len was known in their circle to have issues with inhibition. If there was an opportunity to be missed, he’d miss it for sure. Didn’t he dream repeatedly that he’d gone to the airport and all the planes had left – at least that was what he had memorably told everyone at supper one night. He was a born misser.
Len told Sushila he had to go out for some air, but once he was outside he didn’t want to go back. He felt as if he didn’t quite recognise anything any more. The world was stupid, and there was no way around that. He started to walk quickly away but knew that however far he went, he’d have to come back to this place – if he could find it.
SARAH SCHOFIELD
SAFELY GATHERED IN
Thank you for choosing SelfStore4U! Please rest assured – your belongings will be safe within our temperature-controlled and fully monitored units. We pride ourselves on wall-to-wall security. Whatever your reason for requiring self storage we’ve got it covered – be it house renovations, de-cluttering, or simply to stow your skiing or fishing equipment. Are you moving back home because of break-ups, work commitments or financial problems? Rather than sell all your possessions, and have to start over again, you can store your items with us at SelfStore4U.
We adhere to the highest self-storage standards to provide you with a permanent convenient off-site storage solution.
UNIT 244
1 Khyam six-man tent
1 Eurohike pop-up tent. Unicorn design
1 Vango inflatable sofa. Minus pump
2 folding camp chairs w/wine holder
2 children’s camping chairs. Unicorn design
1 inflatable kayak. 1 oar
1 gas cooker w/integrated grill
1 gas bottle
1 Go Outdoors camping box cont. kitchen supplies (spec. 4 plates, 4 bowls, 4 mugs, camping pan set) …
This is containerised storage. This is your affordable and safe long-or short-term solution. This is the fix for residential and commercial customers alike. We are just a phone call away. Boxes? Parcel tape? Acid-free tissue paper? All your wants can be supplied.
UNIT 173
12 Tesco Bag for Life cont. asstd. VHS and DVDs. Friends box sets, multiple copies Disney Princess and Davina Super Body Workout
1 IKEA bag cont. small stuffed toy animals
3 IKEA bags cont. medium stuffed toy animals
9 Really Useful storage boxes cont. asstd. Lancashire Life and various weekend supplements
1 hanging rail cont. duffel coats (size L), anoraks (size L– XXL, various autumnal shades), leather jackets (black, size L–XXL)
1 green wheelie bin cont. asstd. computers, laptops and electronic components
7 Aldi wheeled shopping baskets cont. leads and chargers
9 broken Dyson Vacuums. Models DC07 x 2, DC14, DC15, DC17 x 3, DC18 x 2
Nail cuttings in a Duerr’s fine-cut marmalade jar
We are the answer to all your storage needs. With 24-hour onsite security and CCTV monitoring across our premises, you will have peace of mind that your goods are in safe hands. Free from sorrow, free from hidden service charges.
Please note that we cannot accept flammable, perishable, live or illegal goods.
UNIT 97
1 Persian rug, circa 1890. Rolled
1 Edwardian dining table and ten upholstered chairs
1 portrait, oil on canvas. Woman w/auburn hair and amber beads
9 pairs damask curtains. Plum w/gold-trim tassels
1 four-poster bed. Oak, late Victorian
1 roll top mahogany bureau with inlaid leather gold leaf detail. Secret drawer
1 set of National Geographic. Ed. April 1950 – December 1991
1 Tupperware box cont. hair and dust – labelled ‘Sweepings’
2 picnic baskets cont. asstd. silver-plate items …
Read our great customer reviews! Find us on Trust Pilot. Our customers come back time and again. Each walled-off pod is your own private world. We are only here to help you to fulfil your storage needs. We care about you. We see how fearful you are of forgetting.
Late payment fees apply. Responsibility for insuring possessions remains with the customer.
UNIT 87
122 cans Tesco Value baked beans
122 tins John West tuna chunks
122 tins Princes corned beef
12 bags Aldi Family bag penne pasta
12 bags Aldi Family bag quick-cook rice
12 boxes Tesco Value Paracetamol
12 boxes Tesco Value Multivitamin
12 bottles Pouilly-Fumé 2017 Ladoucette
12 bottles Rioja Reserva Viña Ardanza 2009 La Rioja Alta
12 bottles Châteauneuf-du-Pape Prestige Des Princes 2016
24 bottles Laurent-Perrier 2008 Champagne
1 Multitool w/bottle opener
1 axe …
In our fully air-conditioned units, your possessions there, for ever purified. We are a hive, honeycomb
ed cells holding your collective dust. Each one sings sad lullabies that map your route back.
UNIT 77
9 Staples file storage boxes cont. foolscap suspension files
1 five-drawer filing cabinet. Red w/sticking bottom drawer
6 reams of Staples economy-quality computer paper
2 office chairs. Charcoal grey
1 box of flyers. ‘Freedom Financial Solutions – We’ll make your money work for you’ …
We know your possessions are important to you …
We hear you, valued customer. The corrugated door rolling open is a sigh. You pause, before your footsteps crunch over the unit floor. Come to our own temple. Come.
UNIT 323
1 Berketex gown ‘Rosetta’ on cream satinette hanger. Size 14 w/tags
1 pair white diamante studded slingbacks size 6 w/labels
14 ornamental birdcages
3 gold-effect flower pedestals
150 satin-look polyester dusky pink chair covers (packs of 10. Sealed.) …
Each unit is a harvest and a grave. Wheat and tares together sown. All is safely gathered in, ere the winter sales begin.
UNIT 322
1 metal rack storage system cont. asstd. vintage board games, jigsaw puzzles of world landmarks and countryside scenes and a Chemcraft chemistry set circa 1950
1 bisque porcelain doll – name tag ‘Elise’ – w/real blonde hair, wax arms and legs
3 medium boxes cont. Dinky toys. Varied condition 1935–1976
1 fruit crate cont. Gainsborough pink rose-pattern tea set. Missing sugar bowl
1 Willow Pattern serving platter. Circa 1980
1 tissue-wrapped monkey with cymbals. Batteries missing
1 Sotheby’s auction catalogue …
And this is where it will begin. In UNIT 322. You have no way of knowing. How can you? About the chemicals in the Chemcraft set. Their shelf life. Their instability. The vial within the box that has, over the years, been eroding to become hair thin, until it will finally crack. The solution will bleed from it and react instantly, flickering a livid blue flame. How fragile it all is, really, when you think about it.
The flame will shiver through the tinder-like chemistry box and caress the corner of the auction catalogue. It is all so dry. We pride ourselves on our anti-damp technology! See how the pages will arch and splay, touching onto the tips of Elise’s real hair, licking across her fine features, the glaze crackling. See how her hands will melt to flippers. It will drip drip onto the Dinky cars like fat oily rain as the heat rises and the leaden chassis will soften and soon they will run and form mercurial pools on the Willow Pattern platter. Flames will dance across this, hungry for the synthetic furred monkey, where the heat will spread through the mechanism, setting spasms in the springs and he will bang his cymbals frantically.
The heat will lean whispering against the unit walls, and the laced hem of the bridal gown in UNIT 323 will warm and soften. The bodice will crackle to life, beads popping, the plastic boning melting. The flame will flit up the polyester lining and char the garter suspended secretly from the hanger …
In UNIT 77
Flyers will burst from their box and spin to the ground like blackening sycamore seeds …
In UNIT 87
Bottles and tins will explode, Rioja mulled to volcanic anger hitting the ceiling, baked beans firing a tattoo against the corrugated walls …
In UNIT 97
The mahogany bureau will creak, the joints warping. A secret drawer will spring open and a small twist of paper will burst out. A photo? A love letter? A threat? A promise? It will be sucked up by the heat haze and disintegrate into skin-thin fragments …
In UNIT 173
Leather coats will raise their leather arms in the blast of the fire. The duffels will dance and pop their collars. And finally the sprinkler will start, the fine mist vaporising. And, of course, it will be far too late.
In UNIT 244
The sprinkler system will shower the unicorn chairs that have sprung from their bags into angular forms. The gas bottle will bulge. It will vibrate and the valve will hiss. The gauge arrow will melt in the moment immediately before the explosion.
And so later … much later … what do you think they will do?
Well, you have no way to tell.
But you secretly hope that they will come with their fine sieves, soft brushes and sifting trays to salvage fragments from between the ghosts of buckled corrugated walls. That they will catalogue the remnants and display them on soft velvet cushions behind glass in the city centre museum. Come see, thankful people, Come! Scraps of smutted lace, a tattered label clinging to a curved shard of wine bottle, the charred bones of a folding chair, one warped miniature cymbal … Sticky-fingered children will glance at them on their way to the gift shop, where they will pester their parents for erasers and pencils and snow globes decorated with the SelfStore4U logo. And nostalgic, misty-eyed parents will dig out their wallets.
SONIA HOPE
BELLY
Vanessa couldn’t believe her luck when Reggie asked her out. I’ll treat you to a Nando’s, he said.
He drove her to the West End in a silver Volkswagen Golf GTi. Vanessa didn’t dare ask where he’d got it. They abandoned the car down a side street off Charing Cross Road and ran laughing towards Trafalgar Square.
Reggie scrambled up the nearest stone plinth, pulling Vanessa up behind him until they were sitting opposite each other on one of the monumental bronze lions. Vanessa watched Reggie pull a spliff out of his pocket. He lit it, took a drag, and passed it to her. She inhaled and then breathed out as slowly and as nonchalantly as she could. She didn’t want to cough in case Reggie laughed at her. The air around them was herby, sickly sweet.
We should get married, Reggie said.
You’d have to ask me first, said Vanessa.
How many kids should we have?
Two. A girl and a boy.
In Nando’s, Reggie told Vanessa all about himself and Vanessa listened, nodded and smiled. The taste of peri-peri chicken, greasy fries, and the fizz of ice-cold Coke in her mouth was bliss. Reggie realised he’d forgotten his wallet at home so Vanessa paid.
They caught the N29 bus home, and when they got off at the last stop Reggie said, I’ll call you. And Vanessa thought but did not say, You haven’t got my number.
Two weeks later, Vanessa was out shopping with her mum when she noticed a boy and girl walking down the opposite side of the High Street. Vanessa couldn’t help but notice the way the girl’s belly strained against her T-shirt, protruding so much that she thought it might burst through the fabric, exposing its thin skin and thready veins to the world. The boy held the girl’s hand tightly. He was almost pulling her along.
Vanessa’s mum asked, Who are you staring at? And Vanessa replied, No-one.
JEFF NOON & BRIDGET PENNEY
THE FURTHER DARK
You’ve been looking at the email for hours and hours, the same email. Or have hours joined together to create a day and in turn days added one after another to make a week, a fortnight, a month? You find it scary to think that. So look away from the screen. Turn your head and gaze around the room. Get up out of your chair. Tell yourself to get up. OK, flatten your feet on the floor under your desk. Feel the pressure in your arches, every wriggle of your toes. Concentrate and the rest will follow. Or don’t think at all and your muscles will act instinctively. Part of a chain reaction. Or perhaps not. Keep still, keep still, don’t move. You’re fuddled. Keep repeating yourself, it’s funny how quickly it all becomes true. Stay still. Concentrate.
If you start at the beginning, surely you’ll make sense of this. You will work out what is happening. You will work out why you feel this way. You can remember when the first email came. You were having coffee with … Maria? Somewhere down the road. Somewhere no more than one hundred steps from here. You’re faint and exhausted. Sweating. You don’t believe the clock in the bottom corner of your computer screen. But this is your
room, your familiar room, you know everything in it, all your trinkets and non-precious objects, it’s your room, you’re repeating yourself now. Isn’t that meant to be comforting, isn’t that a way of reinforcing your sense of self in your surroundings if you just go on repeating this really isn’t, this really isn’t good for you. Keep saying it anyway. This is your room.
Are you hungry? You have food in the kitchen but you would have to stand up to access it and this you can’t seem to do even if you are telling yourself this is what you want. You can’t remember when you last ate. So you must be hungry. Repeat to yourself. You are going to eat right now. Order a pizza with free home delivery. You will choose the toppings you like: cracked pepper, artichoke, caramelised onion? At least you recognise their names though you can’t for the life of you remember how they taste. Why not include a half-price fizzy drink with your order? You will open the door when you hear the bell. But that means standing up, moving about, taking steps. Your life is right here on the screen in front of you … you can’t see anything else that’s why you can’t turn round you look at your fingers resting on the keyboard, awaiting instructions; delete or open? It’s too hard a choice, too hard too hard too hard you repeat you repeat you repeat …
Best British Short Stories 2020 Page 11