Vintage

by Maxine Linnell

  She ran most of the way back. Past the park. Past the Co-op. Past the Coffee Shop. She was thinking about Sheila. Then about Saleem. She wanted to see him again.

  By now Holly would have gone, wouldn’t she? Marilyn was soaking wet. Her hair – Holly’s hair – fell round her shoulders, dripping as she ran. Her breath was coming in gasps and she slowed to a walk up the hill.

  Maybe it was too late.

  Maybe she would never get home.

  I’m standing in the rain feeling like a complete idiot.

  It’s nearly quarter to five.

  Maybe she’s changed her mind.

  Maybe she’s been run over by a bus.

  Maybe I’m meant to be here, this is some new kind of backwards reincarnation.

  I’m pacing up and down. Another bus goes by. The conductress shakes her head at me, her ticket machine slung low over her hip.

  Then I hear the gate. Marilyn’s little brother runs towards me, a coat slung over his head. The sleeves are flapping like he’s some crazy bird.

  “Mum says you’ve got to come in. She says all the neighbours will be watching.”

  I can’t give up now.

  “Tell her I’ll be in soon. Tell her – not to worry.”

  “What you doing out here anyway?”

  “What do you think? Waiting.”

  He skids to a halt in front of me.

  “Are you really an alien?”

  “Yes, I think I am.”

  He grabs the coat sleeves, spreads his arms out. He runs round imitating an aeroplane, or maybe a 1962 version of a spaceship. Then lands in front of me.

  “Which planet are you from then?”

  I consider the question.

  “Planet Zog.”

  He flies off for a minute. Lands in front of me again. This is getting irritating. Where’s Marilyn? I’ve got to get rid of him in case she gets here.

  “Can I come? Where you’re going? It’s so boring here. Please.”

  He looks so sad. I don’t think I’ve noticed him while I’ve been here. He’s cute. He’s got freckles all over his nose. He’s got gingery hair and great big eyes.

  He’s staring up at me.

  I reach out and hug him tight.

  “You’ll have loads of exciting times, I promise. Life will get better. Watch out for this group – The Beatles. You’ll like them. Promise.”

  “Stupid name, who’d call themselves that? Like stupid bugs.”

  He wriggles free, flies off. Back through the gate. It slams closed behind him. He runs towards the back door.

  “Mum! Mum! Marilyn says she’s an alien! From Planet Zog! Are you going to tell her off?”

  He’s gone. I stand, letting my breath settle. I focus my mind on one thing. On contacting Marilyn.

  “Where are you? I can’t do this on my own.”

  Back at the bus stop. Marilyn heard the voice, in the back of her head, like the night before. It was thin and far away, and at first she couldn’t make out the words. But then they came clear.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “We’ll have to do it together,” she flashed back, not knowing what she meant.

  “You’re here. You’re really here.” The voice was coming through louder, stronger.

  “I’m here. How do we get through?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t know either.”

  Marilyn shivered. She felt empty, hopeless.

  “What have you done – in my life?”

  “I’ve been to the club – with Kyle and the others. But you know what happened.”

  “Yes, is he okay?”

  “He’s bruised, but he’s fine. What have you been doing? It must have been boring for you in my life.”

  “I met a cool guy called Dave.”

  “Not Dave Richards! He’s dangerous, my mam says. You’ve not been messing round with him?”

  “Just enough.”

  There’s a silence.

  “Did he kiss you? I mean, me?”

  “Yeah – think you’ll like him when you get to know him. And Marilyn…”

  “What?”

  “Make sure you get a life, won’t you? You’ve got guts. You showed that last night.”

  “But that was you – you in my head.”

  “It’s you now. You did what you did. You saved Kyle. So get a life. Promise me.”

  “Yeah, I will. I know I will. Saleem – he asked me out. I mean you.”

  “Who’s Saleem?”

  “The one across the road.”

  “Wow. Hey, thanks.”

  Marilyn thought about Sheila, and the photos and the newspaper cutting. She knew she would have a life back at home. She’d seen a bit of it already. And she wanted to get on with living it.

  She would find out what Holly had done in her life — Dave Richards kissing her? She was shocked. And pleased. Very pleased. She wondered what it had been like.

  Once they got back, would that be the end of it? Would she ever know what happened to Holly? They were like best friends would be, closer – only they’d never met.

  Then she saw a puppy, sitting by the kerbside near the stop, all on its own. The traffic was coming through as it always did in this world, no gaps between cars.

  The dog arrives out of nowhere.

  Stands at the kerb, ready to cross.

  It’s a little puppy. A perfect baby golden labrador. Just the same as the other day, in front of Kyle’s brother’s car.

  There’s not much traffic. But the puppy heads out into the road.

  Right in front of a car.

  As if it wants to be run over.

  The driver doesn’t see it.

  I’m out there in the road before I even think.

  There’s a squeal of brakes.

  I hang on to the puppy, close my eyes.

  Scream.

  Marilyn didn’t know she was going to rescue the dog. But it trotted out into the road as if there was no danger, and she heard the voice in her head, Holly’s voice, screaming. Without thinking she ran after the dog. There was a huge lorry at the top of the hill. Marilyn leapt into the road in front of it.

  She grabbed the dog and shut her eyes, waiting for the crash.

  Oh my god oh my god.

  I’m going to die.

  It’s all over.

  End of story.

  I’ll never get back.

  The car screeches to a halt.

  The bumper’s close to my right arm.

  I hold onto the puppy.

  I’m shaking.

  The puppy licks my face.

  Marilyn ran back to the pavement, and it was her own pavement. Her own house was in front of her, with the fence and the plants in the front garden. The car drove on. The dog disappeared down the side road opposite.

  A motorbike skidded to a halt on the other side of the road and Dave Richards got off. He pulled it onto the stand, and walked over. He wouldn’t take any notice of her, he never did. She turned away, walked towards the wooden gate.

  “You okay? Saw what happened with that car. I was coming back – to see you.”

  Marilyn was so shocked she stood with her hand on the gate. This was Dave, who everyone fancied. And he was talking to her as if he knew her, as if he cared.

  But everything had changed.

  She turned to him and smiled. “At least the puppy’s safe.”

  He came up close. She didn’t care if her mother was looking out of the window, didn’t care about all the stories about Dave. He put his arms round her and she let him, let her head drop onto his shoulder.

  “Go out again – on the bike?”

  Holly had ridden on his bike? She couldn’t have.

  But she stopped herself. “Yeah, that would be great.”

  She could get used to this. This and her life to come, university, the travelling, the sixties and seventies. There was no need to be afraid.

  She was fine.

  A big smile spread over her face.
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br />   She smelt the leather of his jacket, pulled him closer.

  Kyle’s out of the door of my house. He races across to where I’m sitting in the road. My arms round the dog.

  And I’m okay. Shaking all over. But basically okay.

  There’s a huge jam of cars beeping. I’m wet. It’s raining here too.

  “Kyle, you’re here!”

  “Course I am, you only left me half an hour ago.”

  “The dog – he’s safe?”

  “Looks fine to me. Where’d he come from?”

  The puppy’s warm and wet. There’s no collar or lead. He slips out of my arms, makes a run for it across the road and disappears along the side street opposite.

  Kyle stands up. Helps me to my feet and onto the pavement. The driver gets back in his cab. Starts it up. Drives off. The traffic moves on.

  It’s as if nothing ever happened. How can I ever explain it all?

  “Let’s get on with your project, I’ve found loads on 1962.”

  “Me too. A different way. Kind of original. I’ve just got to write it all down.”

  He gives me one of those Kyle looks.

  I hug him tight.

  He lets out a yell.

  “Sorry, I forgot.”

  “You only just left, remember?”

  “No, but I haven’t been here. I’ve been a long way away. I met this guy, Dave.”

  “You’re so changeable. Does that mean I can have the guy across the road?

  “Saleem?”

  “How come you know his name?”

  “Marilyn told me.”

  Come on. You can tell me all about it.”

  “I’ll try. Not that you’ll believe me.”

  I don’t know where to start. Who would ever believe this?

  We head back into the house. Mum’s standing in the hallway. Looking like she means business.

  “I want to check that cut on your arm, my girl. It could go septic.”

  She reaches for my arm and pulls back the sleeve.

  There’s a cut, between the wrist and the elbow. Not deep. Healing over now. A few centimetres long. It wasn’t there five minutes ago.

  “Can I have the truth now? Did you get into a fight, Kyle? I can’t believe the times we’re living in.”

  “I’m with you on that one, Mum,” I say. I go right up to her and give her a big hug.

  She’s in shock, I can tell. I haven’t given her a voluntary hug for months. But she likes it.

  And I’m seriously glad to see her, my mum.

  Better than Marilyn’s any day.

  “I’m fine Mum, really. And how was your date? What was he like?”

  “You met him this morning, at the coffee shop.”

  I’m going to have to be careful here now, till I work out everything that’s happened. “Looked great. It went well then, you two an item?”

  “Hey, hold on, we’ve only just met.” She’s looking coy.

  Kyle’s grinning like a madman. I see the purple eye. It looks painful.

  “Let’s get that makeup sorted. A bit of concealer will do it. Come on up, I’ll do it for you. And Kyle?”

  “What?”

  “It’s so good to see you. Really.”

  “You having one of your turns again?”

  Everything that’s happened seems to be fading out, like it’s going down a tunnel, or into a black hole. Now seems so solid, so real, so familiar. It can’t have happened, it can’t have, can it? Do I need to go and see the shrink?

  All I know is, everything looks different. Feels different.

  Better.

  Even Mum.

  It looks cool to me, being here.

  We go upstairs. Kyle shows me the websites.

  I’m laughing, it all looks so familiar now.

  1962.

  I look at the Warhol postcard on the wall. Of Marilyn.

  And I do Kyle’s face for him.

  So he doesn’t look like roadkill.

  Table of Contents

  Vintage

  Dedication

  Author Information