Jersey Girl

by J A Heron

  She rushes over to me and kisses me on the cheek. “You’re a life saver.” She smiles and runs towards the door. “See you tonight.”

  She’s gone in a flurry of long brown hair; it whips around her with her quick movements, leaving me giggling at her antics.

  I make a cup of coffee then get myself ready in anticipation of meeting Audrey. I do something I don’t normally do and apply a little make-up. I curl the ends of my hair, and dress in denim dungarees, a warm knit cream jumper, and my Converse.

  I’ve no doubt Audrey will look as elegant as a lady from the manor, and I will stick out like a sore thumb by her side, but I love my casual clothes.

  At a quarter to eleven, I leave my apartment and take a steady walk towards the marina. The seagulls above my head scream for food and dive down every so often in search of small scraps. The sun is rising higher in the sky, and I can feel its warmth. The biting breeze hits my cheeks and my ears, so I pull the lip of my woolly hat down to cover them up. My gloved hands cover my cheeks as I walk slowly towards the coffee shop – with no name – and see the seats outside. No one is sitting outside because it’s so cold, but in the spring and summer months, this place is alive with tourists. I spot the ‘For Sale’ sign and wonder how long it’s been there. I don’t recall seeing it the day I came here with Connor. I wonder how much the owner wants for it. It’s wishful thinking, but I can dream of owning my own business such as this one. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

  I rub my hands together, trying to generate some heat, then blow my hot breath into the thick wool. I can’t feel my fingertips.

  I enter the coffee shop and I’m surprised it’s toasty warm in here. I remove my outer clothing and take a seat by the window. I sit at the same table I sat at with Connor, and memories of our time here come back, but they’re fleeting. I try to block them out before I start to cry when I remember he hasn’t text me back.

  I feel uplifted when I see Audrey enter. Her attire emulates that of a duchess, and she looks far too regal to be in a place like this. Her beauty turns heads as she walks towards me with a huge smile on her face.

  She removes her long coat as she approaches me, revealing a beautiful navy skirt suit. She’s wearing navy knee-high boots, and her silver hair is tied up in the most elegant bun I’ve ever seen. Both times I’ve seen her, her hair has been styled the same way. Neat, tidy, and not a single hair out of place, even with the biting breeze outside. She’s wearing a pretty heart brooch on the lapel of her jacket, made of pearls and diamonds. Real ones.

  I stand to greet her.

  “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a dive like this?” she announces rather loudly. The owner shoots a scowl her way and it makes me giggle. I know she’s joking; I don’t think he got the memo.

  “I like it here,” I inform her. “I fit in.”

  “Well, I hope the coffee is good.”

  “We serve great coffee,” says the guy behind the counter. “Any more lip and you’ll be out on your ear.”

  The old guy with a mass of silver white hair, wearing an ‘I’d rather be cooking for Cheryl Cole’ apron tuts and carries on baking. The smell of cakes and bread baking makes my mouth salivate.

  “Some people are so touchy,” Audrey states as she takes a seat. “It is rather nice in here, but I don’t tell him that.” She gives a sideways glance at the old timer.

  “Rustic,” I say, taking a look around me.

  The paintwork is flaky, the floorboards are creaky and tired, and the curtains look like they badly need a wash, but it all adds to the charm. Today, it’s full of locals, but when the weather is nice, it has its fair share of visitors. It’s sat here on the edge of the marina for many years, so it must be profitable.

  “So, how have you been?”

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “Tell me. What has you looking sad?” Nothing much gets past Audrey, I can tell.

  “I’m not sad, just a little disappointed.”

  I feel uneasy about talking about Connor and his lack of communication, but I could really use a friendly ear.

  I give her a run down of events so far, or lack of them.

  “I’ll kick his behind the next time I see him!”

  “Oh, please don’t. It’s not worth bothering about. Really, I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.”

  “I don’t want to meddle in affairs of the heart, so if you do need me to say something, just say the word and I’ll meddle my butt off.” I giggle at her use of the word ‘butt’. I’ve never heard a naughty word spoken so posh before; it’s funny.

  We sit drinking tea, coffee, and eating the delicious cakes they have on offer here. All the while, we’re chatting as if we’re old friends who’ve known each other for many years. It’s easy, comfortable, and the conversation flows.

  I hear about Audrey, her life with her late husband, Philip, and all about their inability to have children of their own, so they went into fostering disadvantaged children.

  Children from all over the United Kingdom crossed her path. Most came from broken homes, and Audrey and Philip gave those children a great upbringing, a head start in school, and most have grown up and become extremely successful. She’s an amazing woman.

  I want to ask her about Janine, and what she was like as a child, and most of all, I want to hear all about Connor, but I’m afraid she’ll think I’m being nosey.

  The conversation has dried up a little. I sit picking the last few crumbs off my plate. I had a slice of chocolate cake; it was delicious, and now I’m behaving like an animal not wanting to waste any of it. I could devour another slice.

  “Do you bake?” Audrey asks. Her question throws me off. Why would she want to know that?

  “I do, actually, although I haven’t for a while. It’s very therapeutic.”

  “I bake too, but I’m more of an old-fashioned baker. I still have a Fanny Craddock recipe book. It’s older than me.” She chuckles.

  “Thirty years old?” I ask with a cheeky smirk.

  “I wish.” She laughs.

  “I just don’t find the time these days.”

  “I understand. Young people can be so busy today, running here and there. You should take it up again. Perhaps it will take your mind off… you know.”

  “My mind isn’t on him.” I fully recognise she thinks I’m pining. Perhaps I am, but I’m certain it doesn’t show. “I’m fine.”

  “If you say so,” she says, brushing a single strand of hair away from her face. “It was lovely seeing you again. Call me when you’re free and we’ll do this again.”

  “That would be awesome.” At least someone wants to see me again. I brush that thought away as soon as it pops into my head.

  Audrey lifts her coat from the back of her seat and shrugs it on. She wraps her scarf around her neck and pulls on her gloves. I stand and welcome the kiss to my cheek. “Call me if you need me,” she whispers before she leaves.

  I kick myself for not asking her about Janine Reese-Wilson. I should’ve done. I need dirt if I’m to get my best friend out of marrying that muppet Giles. I throw some money at the guy who wears a funny apron each time I come in here, and chase after Audrey.

  Geez, she walks fast.

  When I finally catch up with her, I’m out of breath. I reach her side and she looks at me, surprised. “What is it, dear? Did I leave something behind?” She pats her pockets and checks her bag.

  “No. I meant to ask about Janine Reese-Wilson. I need information.”

  “Oh, darling girl, I wish I could say I have a mountain of dirt, but I don’t.” She sighs.

  “I don’t have long. I need to get to work. There must be something I can use to help Benny.”

  We sit down on a bench overlooking the sea.

  After ten minutes, I say goodbye to Audrey for the second time. Connor wasn’t mentioned once, but I’ve left with not a single ounce of information. Audrey said Janine was a wonderful child, always well behaved, did well at school, but there’s nothing, not
one iota of gossip I can use. My mind is blank, and time’s running out for Benny. Soon, that obnoxious couple will have her married off, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  I arrive at Grumpy’s and I’m on time. It’s dead in here again for a week day. There are a few people in, some playing pub games; darts and pool. All blokes, and Grumpy is sitting watching the news… again.

  “How ya doing boss?” I say as I walk past him. He lives up to his name as all I get in return is a grunt.

  Robert Mitchell – a.k.a. Mr Grumpy – is and has been like a father to me. We share very few words, but he’s had my back for a long time. Like Benny, he saved me, gave me a reason to look people in the eye again. When all was lost, I found I had not one, but two people to pick me up out of the gutter.

  He’s always on my back, but he does it because he cares, and I made him a promise.

  He gave me a job, if I promised to work hard, and help him keep his business afloat. I agreed.

  Benny gave me a place to stay when I was hiding away behind a huge rubbish bin, wearing unwashed clothes, and eating scraps. I don’t dwell on the bad incidents in my life. I don’t want people to pity me.

  Now, I look to the future. I’ve turned a corner, and I’m thankful for the two people who helped me turn my life around.

  Being homeless is no joke. There are some shady characters out there, but there are some who will lend a hand when needed. But there are some who wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire.

  I twist a glass cloth in my hand absentmindedly as I recall some of the worst times in my life.

  I feel the cold, more now than ever. But when you’re on the streets in the middle of winter, with nothing but a sleeping bag to keep you warm, it’s difficult. I went from having it all, the best of life, to having nothing, all in the blink of an eye.

  My parents were amazing. Lisa and I had a good upbringing; we were a solid family unit. We lived in a modest house, we went to a good school, and we rewarded them with good grades.

  Then all that was gone, all because Lisa and I decided to go a party. A party we had no business being at in the first place.

  I wish I could turn back time. I wish there was some magical device with a button that, when pushed, has the power to rewind back to that time in my life.

  The guilt I’ve felt for many years, and Lisa’s blame piled on top, has felt like a crushing weight on my chest. The remarkable thing about this whole situation is, it was my fault, and I’ve learned to accept my role in the death of my parents. I was to blame, but so was Lisa. But the difference between her and me is the fact that she’s not learned to accept her share of the blame.

  If I hadn’t called them, they would never have got in that car, they would never have skidded off the wet road, and they certainly would never have hit that tree that killed them. Our saving grace has always been the voice of the man at the hospital. He told us it was instant, and they wouldn’t have suffered. I’ve always held onto that small snippet of consolation.

  How I wish they were still here, and I’d be free from living this daily nightmare. A nightmare so debilitating, it causes panic to rise from my chest, strangling me, starving me of oxygen and crushing my very soul.

  I need a drink.

  With all his grumpy ways, he’s a rock, a man of substance who – after all these years – still can read the signals. He knows when I’m about to have a full-on panic attack. He’s by my side instantly.

  “Another two beers,” a guy at the bar demands.

  “Please!” Grumpy warns, “and you can bloody wait!”

  He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him, and rubs my back. “Deep breaths,” he tells me. “Nice and slow.”

  I always do as he says, and it always does the trick. After a couple of minutes, my racing heart is now at its normal, steady pace. “You okay?” His concern-laced tone elicits a warm smile from my lips.

  “Thank you,” I tell him sincerely.

  “Pleasure. Now get back to work,” he demands with a chuckle.

  As I pull the tops of the two beers the guy ordered five minutes ago, I realise how lucky I am to have people who look out for me when all the memories of my parents come crashing back.

  She still blames me, and it still hurts. But I still blame her, and I know she hurts too. The woman I blame walks through the door of Grumpy’s, and another panic attack starts to form, but is quickly quashed as it’s replaced with anger. That fury is unleashed when I yell, “Get out!”

  It’s like slow motion as my sister walks towards me, obviously ignoring my wrath. “I said get out!” I say a little quieter after noticing the angry glare from Mr Grumpy. He’ll get mad if there’s a confrontation in his bar. He won’t allow it from customers. Staff and their woeful problems aren’t any different.

  “I just want to talk,” she says sorrowfully. “Please.”

  “I have nothing to say to you!” I turn my back on her and start cleaning the bottles of spirits that line the back of the bar. I’ve done them once already, but she doesn’t know this.

  “Kat, please.”

  “Go away. You’re dead to me.” I spin around, looking at her head on. “Leave. Before you lose me this job. I’ve lost enough because of you.”

  “What’s going on here?” Grumpy asks as he gets to the bar.

  “Boss, this is Lisa, my sister, and she’s just leaving.”

  These two have never met, but Grumpy has heard all about the infamous Lisa Powell, and he’s given me his opinion on the situation.

  “Please, Kat. I…”

  “Perhaps you could take this somewhere a little more private?” Grumpy suggests, and earns a scowl from me.

  “No. No way. Not happening.”

  “I need to talk to you,” she repeats. “You’re my only family, all I have left, and…” she sobs.

  I’ve heard all this before and I’m not about to let my sister ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to rebuild. “Get lost,” I interrupt.

  I turn my back again, hoping she’ll get the message.

  I hear hushed whispers and I know Grumpy and my sister are chatting between themselves. “Don’t talk about me, especially when I’m standing right here,” I scold as I turn around.

  I see the look of sorrow on Lisa’s face as she turns away from me and walks out the door.

  The feeling of relief that washes over me after she’s gone is immense. I take a deep breath, sighing as I exhale.

  “You! You of all people know what that woman…” I say, pointing at the door Lisa exited through. “You know what she did to me. Don’t you dare take her side.”

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side. A long time has passed since then. Don’t you think it’s time to build bridges?”

  “No. I don’t, and I never will. The bridges between us were destroyed a long time ago, by her. She was the one who demolished them. She was the one who broke everything, and I will never forgive her. Now go away, watch the news, and let me run this bar. I’m far too busy for this conversation.”

  “There’s no one here.” He laughs at my outburst, fuelling my temper some more.

  “I may not have many customers to serve, but glasses need cleaning, and shelves need stacking. Go away. Leave me be.”

  “As you wish.” I watch as Mr Grumpy goes back to reading his paper, with the occasional lift of his eyes to watch the news. I feel bad for losing it with one of my closest friends, my boss, a father figure, but my heart breaks knowing she had the balls to come in here. I knew it was only a matter of time before she’d show up, opening a can of worms, making me remember the time when I was nothing.

  I try to keep busy, hoping the time will pass by quickly, wanting nothing more than to get out of here. I need to lean on Benny. I’m sure she’ll need me after a day of doing a job she hates. That’s the thing about my friendship with her; we’re able to lean on each other when everything gets too much. When the metaphorical walls are closing in, suffocating, squashing, we take strength from each ot
her.

  My temper starts to subside. I grab my phone and fire off a text to Benny.

  Having the day from hell. Hope yours is better. Love you xx

  I place my phone in my pocket. It’s on vibrate mode, so Grumpy doesn’t have something else to moan at me about. I feel the shake and know she’s replied.

  Mine’s not too bad today. I’m home, with a R&C, one has your name on it. Hurry home soon. Love you more xx

  I want this shift over as soon as possible.

  I hate you (wink emoticon) JK. See you soon xx

  I want to tell Benny all about Lisa’s visit. I need to bounce all my frustrations off her. I need her to tell me it’s all going to be okay. I even want to listen to her ramble on and on about Raven and how dreamy he is. I want all of this, so I can be sure I’ve done the right thing by telling Lisa to go away. I’ve always had this niggling little voice in the back of my mind telling me I’m wrong, I’m the one to blame, and it feels like I’m being pulled in a thousand different directions.

  I know without a doubt she was the one in the wrong. She was the one who pulled the rug from underneath me to watch me come crashing down on my arse. She watched as I was drowning, and not once did she offer to throw me a life jacket.

  I fucking hate her.

  She’s dead to me.

  Thrashing all my emotions out in my head, I feel a little better, and I know I’ll feel even better when I can discuss this with Benny whilst holding a rum and Coke in my hand.

  Ah, screw it.

  I help myself to a shot of rum, sans the Coke, and throw it down my throat. Luckily, Grumpy didn’t see me; he’d be furious. The warm burn of the alcohol feels like shit, but once it hits my tummy, the warmth is comforting. I help myself to another shot, and savour that feeling too.

  I know I’m pushing my luck. Grumpy would serve my arse on a silver platter and feed it to me if he caught me stealing his stock. Drinking on duty is not allowed. In fact, it’s a big no no. He’s fired staff for sneaking his booze in the past. My excuse is… I need it.