by Adrian White
“You’re Bruno,” she said.
Katie waited for him to speak or move away, but he did neither. She didn’t want her sessions at the gym to be spoilt by Bruno being there each time.
“Well, I’ll see you around,” she said.
Katie had no choice but to start up again on the machine. Bruno watched for a while, and then walked away.
When Katie next met Mike, she asked him about Bruno.
“Who is he? What does he do?”
“He does law, the same as us.”
“But he’s never at any lectures,” said Katie, “or in the library.”
“No,” said Mike, “I don’t think Bruno’s quite cut out for college life. I can’t see him making it through the first year, somehow – the first term, come to that.”
“But why?” asked Katie. “Why bother getting on to the course in the first place?”
“You’d have to ask him that,” said Mike.
“I saw him at the gym; he gives me the creeps.”
“Yes, he told me,” said Mike. “He also said you were rude.”
“I don’t like him,” said Katie.
Mike smiled.
“Who do you like, Katie? Here,” he said, “I’ve bought you a present, so you have to at least pretend to like me.”
Mike handed her a ticket; it was for a Buzzcocks concert for the following week. Katie was delighted.
“Mike, thanks – but let me pay you for the ticket. Will you be there?”
“If you paid me for the ticket,” said Mike, “then it wouldn’t be a present, would it? And yes, I am going, but I have to warn you – Bruno’s going too, and there’ll be a big crowd of us.”
“Oh, I don’t care,” said Katie, “I’ll be there.”
In all there were twenty of them in a row together, the strangest collection of people Katie had ever seen, particularly for a Buzzcocks concert. Katie saw Eugene and Rory; they were sat with two other students – who could only have been mathematicians – looking expectantly at the empty stage. Katie wandered through to the bar, but Mike was nowhere to be seen. Bruno was the only person she recognised.
“Did Mike buy tickets for all these people?” she asked him.
“Mike doesn’t buy anything,” said Bruno above the noise, “least of all tickets.”
“So how does he – ”
“He’ll have persuaded somebody, somewhere, that it was a good idea to let him have twenty tickets. Though why he thinks it’s a good idea to invite some of these characters to this, I wouldn’t know.”
“Why does Mike like mathematicians?” asked Katie.
“It’s not just mathematicians,” said Bruno. “Any egghead will do. I think Mike wishes he was good enough to be one of them.”
“A mathematician – Mike?”
Bruno shrugged.
“He’s good, but he’s not that good and he knows it. Most of these guys here” – he nodded in the direction of the others at the bar – “are all business types, accountancy or banking and suchlike. A few medics but they tend to be chemists who just happen to be studying medicine.”
“Now there’s something I never understood,” said Katie. “Chemistry, I mean. All those symbols, and that stupid periodic table – I just don’t get it.”
“But everything in the world has to do with chemistry,” said Bruno. “The glass you’re holding, the drink you’re drinking, the floor you’re standing on, the air you’re breathing, the smoke in the bar – everything. Every single thing in the world is made up of chemicals.”
“I think I must have had a poor teacher,” said Katie. “Whatever the lesson, he’d always go back to amino acids or something like that, as though we all knew what the fuck he was talking about.”
“But he’s right – we wouldn’t be alive or here at this gig without the amino acids in our body.”
“Now you’re at it,” laughed Katie.“I don’t see any other lawyers here.”
“No,” said Bruno, “Mike can’t stand lawyers. I sometimes think that’s why he’s studying law himself – so he never has to deal with another lawyer.”
“But we get in?” said Katie.
“Oh yes, we’re special.”
“Where is he, anyhow?”
“Nice Guy Mike? He couldn’t make it. One of his medical friends had a bit of an accident today.”
“What happened?” asked Katie.
“This guy is studying dentistry,” said Bruno. “He gave an anaesthetic without reading the patient’s notes, so – no more patient.”
“You mean he died?”
Bruno shrugged again, as if to say – shit happens.
“So what’s Mike hoping to do?” asked Katie.
“Make him feel better about himself?” suggested Bruno. “Or at least not feel quite so bad. I don’t know, as I say – Nice Guy Mike.”
Bruno knocked back his drink.
“Come on,” he said. “Joy Division are the support band – they’re the reason I’m here.”
Bruno walked away from the bar. Katie had wanted to ask him why he never attended any lectures – how he ever hoped to survive the course – but she didn’t get the opportunity. She followed Bruno into the concert hall.
Katie had heard of Joy Division but she didn’t know what to expect. She knew they were from Manchester and presumed they had the gig on the strength of that. A few hundred people came through from the bar but most of the crowd didn’t bother. Eugene and the mathematicians, though, they were on their feet already and Katie looked from them down to the stage and saw they were mimicking the actions of the singer. The music was harsh and disturbing. Katie had never heard music like this before, and she’d never seen anyone act like that on stage before. Part of her wanted to laugh, but then she saw Bruno’s reaction: he was totally immersed in the music, his eyes closed, and his head jerking forward like he was kicking someone on the ground.
They sang a song called ‘She’s Lost Control’, and Katie had to sit down – images of cutting her legs flashed through her mind.
I have to stop doing this, she thought. I have to find a way to stop.
When the band finished, the mathematicians were ecstatic.
“Are you okay?” Bruno asked Katie.
“Yes,” she said. “I need a drink.”
“That boy needs some help,” said Bruno, referring to the singer. Somehow this was more damning coming from Bruno, as though he knew a thing or two about needing help.
The Buzzcocks were disappointing in comparison – no, The Buzzcocks were just plain terrible. They stopped a song halfway through and the singer said it was shit!
“I agree,” said Bruno. “Come on, let’s go.”
The mathematicians shouted down obscenities to the stage, and all twenty of them left together – or eighteen, because Mike and his dentist friend were missing.
Bruno shook his head.
“What a fucking circus,” he kept saying. “What a fucking circus.”
They all went into the bar for a drink.
Katie’s first Christmas as a college student was hard. She was used to being on her own and this had never been a problem to her, but she hadn’t realised how much she’d come to rely on Mike and, to a lesser extent on Bruno, for company. She felt the difference in their ages for the first time; for all Mike’s sophistication, he seemed suddenly very young again when he told Katie he’d be returning to his parents’ house in Belfast for the holidays.
“You know,” said Mike, “you’re more than welcome to come over to Belfast.”
Katie couldn’t imagine what that would be like – Christmas amongst Mike’s large extended family – but she knew it wasn’t for her. She was grateful for Mike’s offer, but didn’t like to think that he’d picked up on her loneliness.
“Bruno will still be around,” Mike told her. Katie had developed a parallel friendship with Bruno, but she still wasn’t quite at her ease in his company. She tried to avoid seeing him when they weren’t all together in a crowd.
“I’ve bought you a Christmas present,” said Mike, before he left. He handed Katie an envelope. “It’s a membership card for the new gym and fitness centre in town – brand new facilities and everything. You’ll love it.”
“I don’t want this,” said Katie and then she corrected herself. “I mean, thank you, but I don’t want you to be buying me presents.”
“Well,” said Mike, “if truth be told, I didn’t actually buy it, and it’s not just for you – we all have one, so we can all use the gym together.”
“You’re going to start using the gym?” said Katie, and smiled.
“I will this one – you should see it.”
“And how did you get the membership?” she asked.
“It’s part of a sponsorship deal, but that’s not important – ”
“Sponsorship deal – sponsorship for what? Oh, forget it! Look, Mike, I appreciate the thought, even if there’s nothing wrong with the gym I use in the college, and it’s closer, but I don’t want you to be giving me things; I don’t want you to be doing all these things for me.”
“But I like to,” said Mike.
“But I can’t . . . I can’t do anything for you.”
“You don’t need to do anything for me; I’m not looking for anything from you.”
But this wasn’t true, and they both knew it.
“You know what I mean,” said Katie. “I can’t let myself get close to you – to anyone.”
“I know that,” said Mike and then, “I just like you, that’s all.”
Again, they both knew this wasn’t true.
“But nothing will ever happen, Mike. I won’t ever change, not ever.”
“I’m not asking you to change; I’m just giving you a Christmas present and I’d be happier if you accept it. It’ll be fun, you’ll see, when we all get back in the New Year, and we can all hang out there together.”
In his own way, Mike was anticipating the rising social scene of the gym, but he was also doing what he’d repeatedly done over the past few months: using their group of friends to involve Katie in an activity in which she felt safe. This was his way of helping her and she knew it.
“Thank you,” she said, “thank you. And I hope you have a great time with your folks over Christmas.”
She needed the gym membership once she realised the college facilities closed down for the holiday, and Mike was right – it was a beautiful gym. Her beloved library, too, let her down, and she switched back to working in the library in town. There were fewer reference works to consult, but she had a workspace in which to complete her essays on time. She took to using the new gym once the library closed for the day.
Coming back from town one evening, she cut across from Oxford Road and crossed the Parkway by the footbridge rather than walking around by the road. As soon as she stepped on to the bridge she knew something wasn’t right. Everywhere was quieter for a start, with few if any students around. There was less reason to be crossing from the college over into Hulme and, because this wasn’t Katie’s normal route, she hadn’t been walking with her usual confidence and assurance. At the far end of the bridge she could make out somebody waiting in the dark. She hesitated and as she did so she knew she was in trouble. She slowed and considered turning back, but when she looked behind her there was another person following her. It was a classic mistake; one she’d heard talked about many a time in college whenever she mentioned she lived in Hulme. She thought about what she had on her – very little apart from some loose change in her purse. But then it occurred to her that it might not be money they wanted.
She stopped dead in the middle of the bridge. Her would-be attackers walked slowly towards her. She looked over the barrier down to the road below; it was way too high, but she would jump before she let them near her. She felt in her pocket for her keys and they seemed a very poor defensive weapon against two grown men. Then she fingered the razor blade around her neck and snapped it off the chain. Somebody else stepped on to the bridge from the college side and Katie laughed with relief when she saw it was Bruno. He walked alongside the person following Katie and without warning stamped his shoe into the side of their knee. Katie heard the crack above the noise from the traffic below, and the person slumped to the floor in pain. Bruno checked to make sure they stayed down, and walked on to Katie.
“You okay?” he asked. He smiled when he saw the blade in between her fingers. “Nice one,” he said, “shall we go?”
They walked on along the bridge towards Hulme. The other would-be attacker thought better of taking on Bruno, and ran away.
Katie was still shaking when they reached her flat in Bonsall Street. She didn’t need Bruno to tell her she’d had a lucky escape.
“You have to be more careful,” was all he said to her.
“I know, I will – and thanks,” she said. It was only after closing her door behind her that she thought it strange that Bruno should have been there to help her.
After what had happened on the bridge, she adjusted her schedule to keep to more daylight hours; she had little choice anyway if she wanted to use the library. But she needed this remove – a separate place from home in which to study – and she needed the gym. It was hardly socializing, but staying at home alone wasn’t enough for her any more.
She was relieved not to see Bruno again over the Christmas holiday period. She didn’t know where he would be, only that he wouldn’t or couldn’t be going home to his parents. If he’d received the same gym membership off Mike – and Katie presumed he had – he chose not to use it, or at least not at the same time as Katie. She knew Bruno had problems, but she didn’t know what those problems were. She guessed they weren’t so different to each other. She’d watched as his use of drugs intensified throughout the first term, but she didn’t know what demons drove him on. She had to look after herself first and she was barely capable of that; the thought of trying to help Bruno as well was hopeless and besides, he scared her.
Katie knew how important it was to Mike that she and Bruno at least get on well together. What she hadn’t reckoned on, but what soon became obvious after that first Christmas vacation, was that being close to Bruno might leave Mike feeling threatened. No matter how much Katie protested, Mike believed she had a connection to Bruno that he didn’t share.
“Oh for God’s sake,” she said to Mike one night.
Katie realised again just how young Mike was. He might have been notoriously secretive in everything he did, but when it came to his feelings for Katie he was hopelessly transparent. There was little she could do to help him – the very idea that Mike should be jealous of Bruno was ridiculous, especially after trying so hard for them all to be friends. If this was what it meant to be in a relationship, she wanted no part of it.
Katie thought Mike seemed a little lost, as though something he’d seen back in Belfast had shocked him. Katie didn’t know if this was personal or political – or perhaps it was a little of both – but Mike was a little less sure of himself. For a few weeks into the new term, he had the look of someone who was not quite so sure of what he was doing – of how he came to be studying law in Manchester, or falling for a girl he couldn’t even begin to understand.
After these first few weeks, they settled back into a routine – the library, the gym and, increasingly, the casino – even if that routine was fuelled by a higher intake of a wide variety of drugs. Bruno naturally came into his own here, but at the time it seemed no more excessive than Katie’s studying or Mike’s gambling; in their different ways, they were each as freakishly singular as the other.
Mike was generous when it came to sharing the proceeds from whatever mad scheme might take his fancy.
“If only you put as much energy into your studies,” said Katie, but she knew how quickly Mike became bored. It was as though having got to college – even at so young an age – Mike was only interested in doing the minimum amount of work necessary. There was always some new
idea, something somebody somewhere had told him, that Mike just had to get into.
Katie only ever picked up scraps of information as to what Mike might be up to. His explanation of the sponsorship deal for the gym in town, for example, nowhere near explained their membership of such an exclusive club.
“Who are they sponsoring?” asked Katie. “Or who’s sponsoring them – how does it work?”
“The gym are sponsoring the Law department,” said Mike.
“To do what?”
“To do nothing – to be the Law department.”
“But you can’t make deals for the Law department,” said Katie, “and besides, most of us aren’t even studying law.” As Bruno had pointed out, most of Mike’s friends were scientists of one form or another – mathematicians, chemists, medics – as well as a few accountants and business types.
“They don’t need to know,” said Mike. “I gave them a list of twenty names, and in return for that they get an association with a prestigious University Department. It doesn’t cost them anything and they can brag about it on their notepaper – or in their ads, things like that.”
“But who did you ask if this was okay?” asked Katie.
“No one,” said Mike. “I just used some departmental headed paper.”
“But what if you’re found out?”
“I won’t be – how could we be? Plus,” Mike added, “I didn’t give them our real names.”
Katie looked at her membership card and saw that this was true.
“But that’s fraud,” she said. “Worse – you’ve included all your friends in the fraud.”
Mike shrugged.
“I don’t see anyone complaining,” he said. “You can give me back your membership, if you that’s what you want, but it would be a shame.”
This was true – Katie loved their trips into town and it was so much more fun than the solitary exercise of her first term at college. It often got out of hand though, and more than once they’d been asked either to cool it or to leave. She couldn’t imagine this was what the gym had hoped for in sponsoring the Law department – certainly not when Bruno was around.
“But whoever heard of sponsoring a University Department?” she asked.