Born in the 1980s

by Alex Wire

  The girl who takes our order is surprisingly patient, especially with the cup-of-tea palaver. Normally when we go out, people automatically treat Emmy like she’s an E-number time bomb, and could begin tearing about the place at any moment. They also presume she only wants chips and ketchup. In actual fact, considering she’s never really had the opportunity to go anywhere or experience anything, Emmy’s got more finesse and is more adventurous than loads of girls my age that you can see out in the city on any given night of the week.

  It’s a warm night, and they’ve got the doors open and the place is full of chatter and bursts of laughter. That, and the unfamiliar cooking smells make for a real summer holiday ambience. Emmy beams at me across the little table, sipping her tea.

  Halfway through eating, she needs the loo. She always does this, but all that ‘why didn’t you go before’ bollocks is so dull and I can’t really be bothered with it. It’s a pain though, because we’ve left the table empty, so I hope they don’t clear the plates. I’m just opening the toilet door when Emmy stops in her tracks. I tug on her hand but she doesn’t budge.

  ‘Dad, this is the Boys.’ Here we go.

  ‘Yes, but I’m not allowed in the Girls mate, because I’m a grown-up. You’re allowed in here though ’cos you’re titchy-tiny!’ I go to scoop her up but she wriggles away.

  ‘Well I’m not anymore, it’s embarrassing.’

  No, I think, this is embarrassing. There are blokes squeezing past us to get in the loo, giving me very funny looks.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ I back away, just desperate not to be arrested. ‘You go in the Girls and I’ll wait out here, just shout if you need me.’

  Hanging around outside the Ladies toilet isn’t really doing much for my ‘trying not to get arrested’ plan, and I don’t know if somebody has complained about me or what, but the waitress who served us appears, looking concerned.

  ‘I’m just waiting for my daughter,’ I gesture towards the door. At that exact moment a clattering noise starts emanating from the loo.

  ‘Dad! Dad, I can’t get out! The lock’s stuck, Dad!’

  The waitress puts her hand on my arm, ‘I’ll go.’ She hurries in and I hear snippets of conversation.

  ‘Hello Chick, I’m Phoebe. I brought you your tea, remember? Press the latch down as hard as you can before you slide it… Well done, let’s wash our hands. Ooh, nice clips…’

  They emerge holding hands. Emmy is all blotchy from crying but doesn’t run and cling to me straight away. We all walk back to the table with the two of them still hand in hand. It’s not until we sit down that Emmy clambers onto my knee.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say to Phoebe, ‘I’m not usually so useless.’ I am.

  ‘No, no I think it’s ace that you two are even out together. My sister’s fella never takes their kids out on his own, refuses to. I bet your mum is glad of a night off, eh?’ She tickles Em gently behind her ear. Emmy scowls openly at her and she suddenly looks very aware that she’s crossed the line.

  ‘Sorry, it’s just erm, every day’s a day off for her mam,’ I say quietly, with my hand placed surreptitiously over the one of Emmy’s ears that isn’t pressed onto my chest.

  ‘Oh, I…I’m sorry, sorry.’

  ‘No, no it’s okay really. You weren’t to know, thanks for your help.’

  ‘I’ve, um, got to…’ she gestures towards the kitchen and hurries off.

  We eat the rest of our tea with Emmy sat on my knee. She’s impressed with the rice and peas, and when I try some it’s really quite spicy, so I have to say that I’m impressed with her. Phoebe keeps nipping back to see if we’re okay and if we need anything. When she’s taken the plates away, I’m sat sipping my beer, and considering moving somewhere hot so we can do this every night. I suddenly realise that Emmy’s been quiet for ages. I look down and realise that she’s fallen asleep, so I settle up and carry her out.

  At the bus stop, I’m just checking the timetable when Phoebe appears. She’s minus her pinny, and wearing a denim jacket so I presume she’s finished her shift.

  ‘Oh hi there, are you finished for the night?’ I ask, utching my lead-weight of a daughter up onto my shoulder. Outside the context of us being waitress and customer, I’m not sure if it’s okay for me to just strike up a conversation with her, but she seems okay with it. She did rescue Emmy from a toilet after all. She answers that she’s finished early, and her boss here is much nicer than where she used to work, and where do I work? Before I know it we’re chatting away, and she’s really, well, interested, asking questions about Emmy and stuff. I mention that she was really good with her in the loo and apparently she’s the eldest of five herself, so is used to such crises.

  I take a proper look at her; she looks a bit younger than me but doesn’t act it. Her hair is scruffy and a bit greasy from the kitchen, but even so she looks good. For the first time in years possibly, I’m imagining what she’d look like across a table from me in a nice bar, when Emmy starts stirring. I can’t help feeling a tiny bit disappointed. She sits up and looks around.

  ‘Oh, I wanted a pudding,’ she mumbles.

  ‘I wanted to buy you one matey, but you conked out on me.’

  Emmy makes that whingey-child noise which means she’s too tired to make a proper fuss, but not tired enough to let it go.

  ‘Well, I’m going to get a coffee,’ Phoebe says. ‘There’s a café that stays open all night round the corner. You, well, we could get some pudding there…?’

  I’m a bit flustered at first, then giddy all of a sudden, because I think this girl is asking me (us?) out, which has never happened before. Emmy, perceptive as she is, doesn’t seem to have picked up on this, but mumbles something about cake. I look down at her. Her eyes are pink and sleepy, and the hand that isn’t round my neck is gently patting my chest. Intermittently, she makes little grabs at my shirt, then lets go. She’s always done this when she’s dog-tired, ever since she was really tiny. My heart sinks predictably, but I can’t ignore it. I’m a rice-cooker, well a rice-buyer at least. I’m getting there. I take a deep breath.

  ‘That sounds great, but I’m really sorry we can’t. It’s a school night for us! I ought to get her to bed.’

  She nods in understanding. We say polite, awkward goodbyes and she disappears round the corner.

  ‘I wanted a pudding,’ Emmy mumbles, but before I’ve even finished my school-night spiel, she’s fallen back to sleep. I look at her, crumpled against my chest like a favourite teddy. There are no cracks between her body and mine. We fit together perfectly.

  ‘It’s just you and me from now on, Button,’ I whisper, shifting her as gently as I can in my arms so I can fish some change out of my pocket for our bus home.

  The Things I Learned About Leah Today

  Sam Duda

  Thursday 28 June

  She is perhaps an A cup. They are not very big. It is the first thing I notice when we shake hands. This does not matter. The other day Jackie told Heather she was a C cup and hers are far too droopy.

  She has smooth hands and she doesn’t bite her nails, at least she hasn’t for a while.

  She tries to make jokes. This is good. They are not brilliant, but perhaps she is a little nervous.

  She is slim and tallish.

  She has nice eyes.

  She has dark brown hair (the colour of a dark chocolate digestive biscuit).

  A bad mouth (big, like mine, but on a much smaller face). I would guess her parents are not too worried about image, otherwise she would definitely have been made to wear a brace.

  She has not mentioned a boyfriend.

  Geordie.

  Friday 29 June

  She does not smoke.

  The women in the office say she seems like a nice girl. Jackie made a joke that I should ask her out. I think it was a joke. It must be. I have only known this girl for one day.

  She does not like dogs, but she quite likes a pub that allows them, as long as they are well behaved.

  She lives wi
th another girl, but there has been no talk of a boyfriend.

  Twenty-five years old. We were in the same year at school, but obviously in different cities.

  She is a little splay-footed and she walks a bit like a penguin.

  Her breasts are bigger than I first thought.

  Tonight she is going to watch a film with a friend. The friend is female.

  Monday 2 July

  She is a little jug-eared. I only noticed because she wore her hair back today. She has a pretty neck, however. Her skin is nice. Like milk.

  She had a fun weekend. She watched Jaws on Friday with her friend. Apparently it is one of her favourites from childhood. I told her it was one of mine too, and she seemed pleased. I must watch it again to remind myself of some of the good bits.

  She is smartly dressed. Her trousers amplify her nice buttocks.

  Today she wore a good-looking pair of shoes. They were like moccasins. Last week she wore spats and I thought they were stupid.

  Her surname is Fletcher.

  No mention of a boyfriend yet.

  Tuesday 3 July

  We walked home together today. I found out she lived on Sidney Terrace, which is two minutes from me, so we walked back all the way.

  She doesn’t look like a sweater (someone who perspires, not a pullover).

  Her mouth is better than I first thought. The teeth give her character.

  Her eyebrows are neither thick nor thin, with no sign of a potential monobrow. This makes it unlikely, despite the darkness of her colouring, that she will grow a beard when older.

  Her younger sister studies chemistry. This is good if I ever meet her family. I am always worried that I would not have something to talk about.

  She loves Neighbours, but I don’t know her favourite character. She mentioned Harold and I laughed like a bird, high-pitched and twittering, but she didn’t look at me strangely. Some people do when they first hear it.

  She has very nice breasts.

  She passed her driving test second time. On the first occasion she failed her parallel park.

  Her dad has a season ticket at Newcastle.

  She once won a sandcastle building competition on the beach at Tynemouth as a toddler and her photograph was in The Newcastle Chronicle.

  She is not religious, but she believes there must be something. She likes arts and crafts, especially jewellery making, and she likes to ramble in the countryside. This is a good sign. Her previous dislike of dogs worried me, but this has made up for it.

  Wednesday 4 July

  Jackie made a childish ooooh noise when I told her that we had walked home together yesterday. It is sometimes hard to believe that these women are in their forties, the way they act.

  Her voice is soft.

  She bought me a bottle of water and refused to take my pound. I must remember to return the favour.

  Her teeth are almost cute-looking. Like a little animal or something.

  I saw her belly button through her blouse when it rucked up a bit. Good news. It is an inny.

  I heard her tell Brenda that she liked a man with broad shoulders. I’m sure she must have noticed that my broad shoulders are my best feature.

  Thursday 5 July

  Today I was reprimanded by Caroline because my minutes contained too many errors. She said that it was unlike me and asked if I had other things on my mind. I said I did not.

  Leah made me a cup of tea. It was too milky, but it was a nice gesture.

  She sat with me for a while and we had a chat. Apparently Jackie was using the phone at her desk.

  She is sceptical about global warming. She thinks it is a government controlling device.

  She is a vegetarian, but this is okay. You can always change a woman, especially on food matters.

  I noticed that she is slightly stooped and could do with spending some time improving her posture.

  She went travelling after university, which is something that people often do with a partner. But she has still not mentioned a boyfriend. I am beginning to wonder whether she has ever had one.

  Friday 6 July

  I caught her looking at me three times across the office. The first time she smiled at me, the other times she looked away. Her face went a bit red and she definitely looked embarrassed.

  Jackie told me at the photocopier that I looked smart and asked me if I had asked Leah out for a date. I pretended I did not have a clue what she was talking about. But now I am worried she will tell Leah that I am not interested. Not that I am, but I don’t want to limit my options.

  She has a nice laugh.

  Her body is a perfect size and shape.

  She told me that she likes ten pin bowling so perhaps she is a bit of a geek, but then I heard that she has been on a speedboat, so she is an adrenaline junkie too. I just cannot work this girl out. She is very enigmatic.

  She has been watching the snooker. We spoke about Peter Ebdon.

  She likes spinach and ricotta lasagne. There is an Italian restaurant on the road that lies between our houses.

  Monday 9 July

  Did not really see her today. She had a doctor’s appointment and left early. I think it is a bit poor for her to be missing work this early on. She has only been in the office a week. I haven’t taken a day off in the two years I have been there.

  However, she did ask me whether I wanted to do a quiz with her on Thursday at The Four Feathers. I said I would think about it.

  Still no mention of a boyfriend, but she is in a team which includes her sister’s boyfriend’s housemate. She pulled a funny face when she said his name. His name is Dan. I hope she is not shaping me up to be a friend she can tell about her love life. Frankly I am not interested in that.

  Tuesday 10 July

  I didn’t ask about her health problem, but I did notice on the way home that she was red faced and sometimes short of breath. Perhaps she is asthmatic. I do walk quickly. I must remember to slow down a little.

  She wore flip-flops on the walk home. They made an irritating noise, but she has nice feet. They are hairless, without sinew or unwanted bulges, and her toes are roundish. I wonder how she dances.

  She leaned in front of me in the office and her hair smelled like flowers.

  She has full lips.

  Her eyes looked even better today. I think she had put some special make-up on them. And it looked like she had some sparkly glitter on her cheeks.

  I told her that I would do the quiz. I will try to bring Kevin along.

  It is 112 Sidney Terrace.

  Wednesday 11 July

  She liked my new haircut.

  Her cheeks were sparkly again.

  I told her my favourite parts of Jaws (I watched it over the weekend and memorised some of the lines) and she clapped with delight.

  Her teeth are good for her face. It just works.

  When we left each other she patted my back and told me that I better be at the quiz tomorrow.

  Her quiz team is called Burn Baby Burn. I’m not sure what I think of this. It is a little naff, perhaps, but it sounds good when she says it with her accent.

  On the way home she told me she is allergic to bee stings and that there are only five people in the world that know that.

  Thursday 12 July

  She beat me in the quiz. But only because she was in a team of six and I was with Kevin, who left at half-nine.

  She wore a low-cut top and I noticed that she was leaning all over this Dan. He looks a bit rough. Short hair and I think he has an earring.

  She drinks vodka.

  I’m really not sure about the low-cut top.

  Made no effort to be friendly at the pub. None at all.

  Friday 13 July

  She looked happier than usual today. It made her teeth look rubbish again.

  We walked home together, but she was quiet.

  After a while I stopped asking questions and we walked in silence.

  Monday 16 July

  I have forgiven her for her behaviour
at the quiz. Perhaps she was a little drunk and showing off.

  She wore a skirt today.

  She has a freckle on her left knee. I like it.

  Her legs are good and toned. Must be the rambling. We must get out into Northumberland for a walk soon.

  She said she would lend me Jaws 2 on DVD.

  Tuesday 17 July

  She didn’t turn up for work.

  Wednesday 18 July

  Told me she was going to a job interview with some charity. Hadn’t realised she was a do-gooder. Should have guessed with all that vegetarianism and arts and crafts.

  Went over to make myself a cup of tea and stood near her desk, but she didn’t look up. She must have known I was there, though. I coughed loudly two or three times.

  Thursday 19 July

  She got the job. She leaves tomorrow.

  She is just a fucking quitter.

  Friday 20 July

  She made me a cup of tea. I let it go cold. When she asked why I hadn’t drunk it, I told her that her tea was rubbish, but she just laughed. I said I wasn’t joking, but she just laughed again.

  After that she made a joke about one of the bananas in the fruit bowl and the women laughed. It wasn’t funny. It was smut.

  She went to the toilet seven times today. Maybe it is her time.

  Walked home with her, but I was quiet. I wanted her to know. When we parted she wished me good luck and kissed my cheek. She told me she had enjoyed my company and that she was sure she would see me again. It sounded like a promise.

  I waited outside for a bit. I didn’t see a light go on.

  Saturday 21 July

  I think her room is at the back of the house. Her window was open.

  She washed her hair and then wrapped it in a towel so it looked as though she was wearing a turban.

  She dances quite well, but she listens to terrible music.

  She went out at about three and didn’t get back until ten.