The Things We Learn When We're Dead

by Charlie Laidlaw

  Her dad turned off the engine and then removed the key from the boat’s ignition. ‘Finished with engines,’ he said, like a real ship’s captain. Lorna thought he looked sad.

  They ate the picnic by a riverbank, with river boats puttering up and down. Lorna remembered the long grass on the riverbank and how it rustled in the breeze. Her mum, perennially unsure what her family liked in sandwiches, had made every combination possible. The result was the best picnic ever, on the sunniest day of the year. On the river was a white barge, water bubbling from its stern as it put its engine into reverse and negotiated its way to a small wooden jetty. The boat moored against it. There was also a pub, she remembered, and another man came out of the pub to help. He helped the elderly man on the boat to thread the heavy mooring lines into large rings on the jetty. He was wearing a sailor’s cap and at his feet, darting everywhere, was a small terrier.

  Lorna snapped her eyes open. She knew that Leo was also awake, his pulse had quickened, and his eyelids fluttered. She kissed his chest and felt seawater slosh against her ankles.

  ‘These kids of mine,’ he asked. ‘Do they have names?’

  ‘Gemima and Alexander.’ She smiled. ‘Perfect names for the offspring of a Leonard.’

  ‘And will I really own a 4x4?’

  ‘Compulsory, I’m afraid ... Goes with the territory.’

  He raised himself on one arm to look at her, and kissed her on the nose. ‘Do you hate everybody you have sex with?’

  ‘Not everybody, no.’

  ‘Just me, then.’ She couldn’t tell if he was being serious; his lion’s mane had blown across his eyes.

  ‘Not even you, Leo.’ She smiled, kissing him back, her hands framing his face, memorising it with her touch.

  His strong arms had pulled her close, and she hoisted one leg over his. ‘Lorna, you’re a teeny-weeny bit mad.’

  ‘Probably. Didn’t Austin tell you?’

  They kissed for a while, listening to the cicadas, as a faint glow on the horizon signalled a new day. He kissed her forehead and her eyes. ‘You could always just fuck me again,’ she suggested.

  ‘Might as well live dangerously,’ he replied.

  Munchkins

  ‘Lorna, you slut!

  ‘Suzie!’

  ‘Well, what else am I supposed to think? First you warn me off him then you shag him yourself!’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Suze, shut it!’ Lorna leaned across the table, trying to indicate that other hotel guests were within earshot. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she protested in a hissing whisper.

  Suzie grimaced, then waved her hands. Lorna had lit a cigarette.

  They were having a late breakfast on the pavement outside the hotel, shielded from the morning sun by a stripy red awning. Suzie was wearing a fat grin.

  ‘And did the earth move?’ she asked, theatrically lowering her sunglasses. Across the street, an elderly Greek man sat in a café drinking a miniscule cup of coffee. Most of his teeth were missing; those that remained were stained dark brown.

  ‘It did sort of tremble a bit,’ conceded Lorna in a low voice, casting an eye around the other tables. Most seemed occupied by young couples interested only in each other. However, close by, were a middle-aged man and woman who seemed to be spreading margarine onto their rolls with excessive care. ‘But, please ... not so bloody loud.’

  Suzie, as Lorna well knew, wasn’t equipped with volume control. ‘Little Miss Love on a one-night stand! Whatever would her mummy say?’

  Across the street, the old Greek had unfolded a newspaper. In one hand was a rosary; small beads dripped between fingers.

  ‘Shut it, Suze! People are listening!’

  ‘Then let them listen, sweetie!’ She looked around, spotted the middle-aged couple, and smiled sweetly. Both returned her smile and went back to their rolls. ‘So, how much trembling did the earth actually do?’

  Suzie had been asleep when Lorna eventually got back, creeping up the stairs to their room like a guilty schoolgirl. But at least Suze had left the door unlocked. Lorna had brushed her teeth and dropped into a deep sleep. She hadn’t needed to tell Suzie anything but, since they were best friends, reticence wasn’t an option.

  ‘It trembled quite a bit actually,’ she said.

  ‘In which case,’ Suzie commanded, once more lowering her dark glasses and winking across the table, ‘I demand that you tell me everything. Every single, little detail, babe. Leave nothing out. Auntie Susan wants to know precisely what you’ve been up to.’

  It was usually Suzie who got to tell these tales. Suzie, with her blonde hair and curves. Not usually Lorna, with her head in a law book. In hindsight, she detected a hint of jealousy.

  ‘I hardly dare mention it,’ said Suzie, ‘but what about Austin?’

  Lorna looked across the street where the old man was talking loudly to an old women dressed in black, and who had even fewer teeth than him. Didn’t they have dentists in Greece? ‘Leo promised not to say anything.’

  ‘But can he be trusted?’

  Lorna stubbed out her cigarette. Austin and Leo would be at the airport. ‘Que sera, sera,’ she said, realising that she hadn’t eaten anything, that Suzie had scoffed all the rolls, and that her coffee had gone cold.

  * * *

  She supposed that Leo could be trusted because he had no reason to tell Austin anything. They shared a bijou flat together, listening to Bill and Monica going hell for leather next door – so sharing a confidence that might, no, would, cause trouble was utterly pointless. At least that had been Lorna’s conclusion as they’d walked back to the town hand in hand in the early morning.

  ‘We could always just elope,’ said Leo. ‘Run away somewhere. Live happily ever after.’

  ‘Ah, somewhere. Where exactly is somewhere?’

  ‘Anywhere,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘Somewhere romantic. A cave perhaps, but with hot and cold running water. A nice cave, somewhere hot, near the sea.’

  She leaned against his shoulder, bumping him. ‘And have to share it with Osama bin Laden? Nice idea, Leo, but no. The HappyMart needs me.’

  ‘The ... what?’

  ‘Suzie gets to be a model. I work on the checkout at HappyMart. It’s a sort of downmarket Tesco, mainly selling sausages. It’s in Edinburgh,’ she added, to make it sound more glamorous.

  He gave a low laugh. ‘Sounds lovely! That’s probably what I’ll be eating tonight. Sausages.’

  ‘Back to reality, eh?’ She thought for a few moments. ‘What will you tell Austin?’

  He took a few moments to reply. ‘Don’t know. Does he need to know anything? Probably not, so probably nothing. Might just say I slept on the beach. I’ve done it a couple of times this holiday.’

  Lorna jabbed him in the ribs. ‘What, picking up other desperate girls and forcing them to have sex? You’ve done that to other innocent victims? God, Leo, you’re not just posh, you’re a posh monster.’

  He squeezed her hand again. Now they had reached the far side of the headland, the town laid out ahead of them, and their pace had slowed to a crawl. ‘I didn’t force you to do anything. I was going to swim with my clothes on. It’s the way I usually go swimming. It’s the way most people go swimming. Except you, of course. Or is it a Scottish characteristic?’ He stopped, faced her. ‘I do want to see you again.’

  She put her arms around his neck and they kissed. Then she broke free. ‘I’m not called Samantha.’

  ‘You could change your name,’ he suggested. ‘Little Gem and baby Alexander. What about them? They’ll need a mother.’

  She smiled and looked across the sand to the town. Early risers could be spotted in the water, all wearing swimwear as far as she could tell. ‘It did mean something, didn’t it, Leo?’ She threaded her arm through his. ‘You’ll call me, right?’

  He extracted a mobile phone from a pocket and dutifully tapped her number into it. Lorna double-checked that he’d entered it correctly, the lawyer inside her making sure of the detail. But she co
uldn’t reciprocate because her phone was in her hotel room. ‘You could come to Bristol,’ he suggested; then after a pause, ‘although that might not be a good idea.’

  ‘Not good.’ she agreed, ‘especially since you live in a complete dump. Has anyone ever thought to clean that carpet? It’s a health hazard!’

  ‘The thought has crossed our minds. Several times, actually. But we haven’t quite got around to doing anything about it. Beer gets spilled on it, that’s the trouble. So there’s no real point in cleaning it because more beer will get spilled on it.’

  Now moving at a snail’s pace, they arrived at a fork in the road. Up one street was Lorna’s hotel; his was up the other. ‘I could always come and see you,’ he said, not quite looking at her. ‘I’ve never been to Scotland. I’d like to see those strange-looking cattle. I could come to your shop and buy some delicious sausages.’

  ‘They’re not delicious. Leo. They’re crap. But you’ve got my number, right?’ said Lorna, suddenly tearful, wondering what the last few hours had been about and who Leo really was. Christ, she didn’t even know his surname and now, on the point of goodbye, it seemed an irrelevant piece of information to extract. ‘But if I don’t see you again, good luck with your life. Remember, Leo, in twenty years from now you’ll have a fat wife, two adorable children, and a planet-destroying car. Maybe you’ll be happy.’

  ‘With a fat wife? You never said anything about Samantha being fat! How did that happen?’

  ‘Too many chocolates, I expect. What with you being such a successful lawyer, she doesn’t need to get off the sofa.’

  ‘Lazy cow.’ He looked genuinely upset, as if Lorna had accidentally mapped out a life for him that he had secretly been dreading. ‘You know, if I ever do meet a real Samantha, I’ll run a mile. No matter how attractive she is, I now know she’ll turn into a large sloth.’

  ‘Well, you’ve been warned.’

  He shuffled his feet, kicking up dust. ‘It was fun though, wasn’t it? A bit unexpected, but fun. I’ll miss you,’ he added.

  Lorna wasn’t sure if he was saying so long or goodbye, and didn’t want to think about it. ‘Call me, posh boy,’ she said and kissed him hard on the mouth, her arms entwining his neck and then, with tears in her eyes she broke free, turned and hurried up the hill, forcing herself not to look back. She thought he might run after her, calling her name, and listened for his footsteps but when she reached her hotel, cleaners already mopping at the tiled reception floor, and did look back, he was lost to sight.

  * * *

  After breakfast Lorna and Suzie went to the beach. Lorna lay on her towel and read a book from behind dark glasses. Suzie, topless and with only a thong for company, had brought a stack of magazines. Soon, however, she was playing beach volleyball with a bunch of Greek boys. The boys had first circled, like sharks, then sent an emissary who could speak English. It was Suzie they wanted although, since they were Greek and polite, Lorna was also invited. They wouldn’t take no from Suzie, but were happy enough to accept it from Lorna.

  It wasn’t a game of skill, but an art in showing off. It wasn’t about playing a winning shot, but about who could jump the highest or smash the ball the hardest. Winning wasn’t important, bravado was everything. After every point there were high fives and macho posturing. In the middle was Suzie, the only girl. Lorna saw that the Greek boys didn’t offer to pick up the ball when it came Suzie’s way; it was much more interesting watching Suzie bend down to pick it up. If Lorna had seen this, she knew Suzie would have noticed. But unlike her, Suzie didn’t mind. Effervescent and without nerves, Suzie loved attention. She enjoyed the way men’s eyes followed her, surreptitiously drinking her in. It was the same with cameras. She flirted with them without fear. The stud in her navel caught the sun as she jumped and turned.

  Lorna positioned herself under their beach umbrella and closed her eyes. She dozed, thinking about Leo, about water lapping at their legs, the first smear of a new day lighting his face. Thinking about Leo brought her abruptly to Austin, and she opened her eyes just as Suzie lay down beside her, perspiring.

  ‘Suze, you’re a tease,’ said Lorna. Her mouth was dry and she sat up and drank some water from a plastic bottle. It had been in the sun and was tepid.

  ‘If you’ve got it, flaunt it, babe.’

  The Greek boys had lost interest in beach volleyball now their star had left the field. They were in a huddle, chatting, casting around for a new mascot to take Suzie’s place. Like a pride of lions, they had snared their prey only for Suzie to escape.

  ‘Fancy a swim?’ asked Suzie.

  * * *

  Afterwards, Suzie made Lorna take her the headland to the next beach. A caïque was in the shallows by the beach, a rope from its prow tethered under a large stone. Crates of beer and vegetables were being unloaded by a posse of young Greeks wearing beige shorts and white T-shirts. In the darkness, the cove had seemed magical; a hidden place that was theirs alone. In daylight, Lorna saw litter below the olive trees, an empty Coke can floating by the water’s edge. The beach now teemed with people, some brown, others alarmingly pink. She spotted a grossly fat couple who had been on their plane. Yesterday, the man had been wearing a football shirt and she’d shrunk into her seat to let him pass by. His solidly large wife, unwisely wearing only bikini bottoms, was eating cake.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ said Suzie, eyeing up the woman. ‘Blancmange eating blancmange. Fucking munchkins.’

  The ramshackle taverna had come to life. Mournful Greek music played from speakers tied under a plastic awning. A grapevine trailed up the wooden supports and dripped from wooden beams. Underneath, where Leo had peeled off his shirt and dared her to follow, red tablecloths had been spread out. The bar had regained purpose; the barbeque lit and smoking. A waitress with red hair was circling the tables with trays of beer and soft drinks. Further up the beach, Lorna saw several couples who were completely naked, including another couple she recognised from the plane and who were, judging from their colour, already in danger of inconvenient sunburn. This beach, Leo had told her, is called Paradise Beach. The next beach down, which you can only get to by boat, is called Super Paradise. You don’t want to know what goes on there, he’d said. When pressed, it turned out that Leo didn’t really know. He hadn’t been to it, he’d just heard stuff.

  They found a table out of the sun and ordered kebabs, salad, and beer. The salad came with plump tomatoes and goat’s cheese. Suzie had finished most of it, and the bread, before Lorna had even finished her cigarette.

  ‘So where exactly did the deed take place?’ asked Suzie. ‘I have a curious desire to know all the details.’

  Lorna pointed to the seashore. The caïque was being pushed from the beach, its motor puttering to life in a plume of dense smoke. The boat turned and headed towards the headland.

  ‘Maybe they’ll erect a plaque,’ said Suzie. ‘Lorna Love got laid here.’ She seemed to find this hilarious and cackled. ‘Will you see him again?’ she asked, demolishing a bowl of black olives.

  ‘I don’t know, Suze. It was a silly, silly thing that shouldn’t really have happened.’ She ground out the cigarette, not really knowing what she did feel, and pushed the remains between the floor’s wooden slats. She could still feel his arms around her, his mouth against hers. Her memories were raw yet they felt unreal. Had she really taken all her clothes off? Had it really taken place? She hardly knew him, but remembered the stars and a welling sense of liberation. ‘If I saw him again, it wouldn’t be the same.’ Lorna shrugged and made a grab for one of the last remaining olives. ‘Everything might be a let-down. I think he probably feels the same way.’

  ‘You only think he feels the same way?’

  ‘I didn’t ask him, Suze. Maybe I should have asked, but I didn’t. There again, I didn’t really want to know.’

  ‘It’s just that fuck ’em and leave ’em has never been your motto, Lorna.’

  ‘For God’s sake! Shush!’ Suzie, as always, was oblivious to other people
, simply not caring what secrets she shared. Lorna sighed. ‘I don’t even know his surname,’ she admitted feeling, despite herself, a little sluttish.

  ‘Dove. Austin told me.’

  ‘Dove, like the bird?’

  ‘What other kind of dove is there, sweetie?’

  Lorna thought for a few moments, looking over the sea. ‘Then if we ever do see each other again, we’ll be the Loveydoveys. God, that’s worse than the Lovebirds!’ But at least she would have progressed from a generic form to wildlife to a specific species, and smiled to herself. When she looked back to the table, all the bread and olives had been eaten by Suzie, who now looked at her watch. ‘All being well, they’ll be landing soon. But it does seem a pity,’ she said, ‘to have had the earth tremble and not want to repeat the experience. Earth-trembling is so very rare. Suppose he does tell Austin,’ she suggested, lowering her sunglasses and looking at Lorna over the top rim. ‘What then?’

  ‘He won’t.’

  ‘But he might,’ persisted Suzie.

  ‘So what’s there to tell? We talked, we went for a swim, we made love. End of story, Suze. It happened, now it’s over.’

  ‘Not for Austin it isn’t.’

  ‘I refuse to feel guilty about Austin,’ said Lorna with some venom. It was her life and she had a right to get on with it.

  ‘D’you know, it’s a pity he still fancies you,’ said Suzie, unexpectedly wistful. ‘Know what, sweetie? I’ve always, always fancied him to bits.’

  The waitress with the red hair brought them plates of kebabs and another bowl of salad. She spoke with an Australian accent and was forever casting loving glances towards the barbeque and the dangerously good-looking chef in beige shorts and white T-shirt who was behind it, who slightly resembled Keanu Reeves. Lorna stared open-mouthed at her friend. Suzie had never ever mentioned that she fancied Austin.