by A B Turner
“I’m so glad Cal was okay and it was really lucky you remembered that life-saving class too,” she said solemnly, “It must have been very scary.”
“It was, but, you know something, Lou? I saved his life, I mean I know it was my mistake, but I did save him and she said nothing about that, not a single thing.”
Louise sat back, obviously not really knowing what to say,
“I can’t take much more from her,” I continued, “I’ve been up practically all night and I know what I have to do now.”
Louise’s eyes suddenly seemed filled with concern, she grabbed my hand,
“You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you? Like run away..”
I put my hand on hers,
“I’m not going to lie to you, I thought about it, I thought about taking her car and her wallet and just driving away from everything.” I paused when I saw her lip start to tremble and her eyes welling up, “But I’m not going to do that, I promise, ‘cos aside from anything else, I’ve only driven the tractor once and that was when I was about two and I was sitting on Mum’s lap.”
I was relieved to see a half-smile on her face, but she still obviously swallowed hard,
“I wouldn’t want you to run away, I’d be worried all the time,” she said quietly, “and there are so many stories about kids running off and never being seen again.”
I put my other hand on hers and held tightly, looking straight into her eyes,
“I promise you, I’m not going anywhere, well not for a while any way.”
The tension visibly faded from her whole body, her expression lightened and we allowed our hands to separate again,
“So what are you going to do?” she asked.
I took a deep breath because this felt like a really important announcement, not just to her, but to me too, saying this out loud felt like I was making it a reality, a promise to myself and not just some idea in my head which would never happen.
“I’m going to do everything she asks, I’m going to work really hard at school and get the best possible grades.”
I stopped and looked at Louise who was obviously mystified by what I was saying,
“Don’t you see? That’s how I’ll get out of here, I will be able to go to college or go to work, or maybe even do both, Mum had a friend and her daughter worked through college and now she’s not only got qualifications but she’s travelled all over the place, if she can, so can I.”
I waited for her reaction, it felt like ages before she actually spoke even though her whole forehead seemed to be just one big frown as she thought about what I’d said, finally I could take her silence no longer,
“Say something,” I urged impatiently, “Even if it’s to say, I’ve lost my mind.”
Louise smiled at me,
“You would have had to have a mind in the first place to lose it,” she joked, but then her expression changed to infinitely more serious,
“I will do it with you,” she said simply, her answer took me completely by surprise, a fact she clearly hadn’t missed,
“We will both work hard, help each other with school and when we both finish here, we will both leave, get good jobs and maybe one day, get that dream apartment we’ve always talked about,” her eyes literally sparkled with excitement, a feeling that was so infectious, I couldn’t help but join in,
“And we will have parties that last for days at a time and champagne, drive fast cars and go to Paris.”
Louise nodded enthusiastically,
“Oh and we will have gold credit cards and be able to buy anything we want without having to worry about money, can you imagine that? Never having to even think about checking the price tag on anything again.”
We both beamed as the idea took hold,
“We can do this, Louise, maybe not all of it straightaway, but we can do it,” I said firmly, before adding, so quietly, I wasn’t sure if Louise even heard, “And one day, Mum will be sorry for everything.”
Before we could say anything else, the dreaded school bell rang out, so we quickly gathered out things together and walked up to the open main doors, both of us realising, this was, in a way, the first day of it all.
BETTER DAYS
Chapter Four
I sipped my coffee as I gazed out at the city, I loved being almost at the top of the apartment block, as it gave you space even when you were in such a busy, bustling environment. As I looked down, I could see the world starting to stir, everything was waking up at exactly the same time in a united readiness for the new day. When you first looked out of this window, it seemed as if all there was, were miles and miles of streets, lined with towering buildings, which not only stretched horizontally into the misty distance but vertically too, as when it was cloudy, you couldn’t see the tops at all. For some reason, when that happened, it always made me think of reading ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’ to Cal. As if somewhere, above those clouds, there was a giant’s castle, with a goose laying golden eggs and all kinds of other magical creatures. I remembered once, when we were walking across the field towards the huge tree in the corner and we would spend hours, lying underneath its leafy canopy and idly speculating about what we would do, first to the giant and then how we’d look after the goose. The memory of how we had been, I knew, was me seeing my childhood through rose coloured glasses, a time filled with endless Summers, hot chocolate Winters and just the pure joy of being alive. I knew that was nothing like how it was, but I rarely had any desire at all, to revisit the reality very often. When I thought about Cal, I couldn’t help but remember his face when I’d told him I was leaving home to go and live in the city. For the days that followed my announcement, he had rarely left my side, as if somehow, if he stayed close, he couldn’t possibly lose sight of me. When it became clear to him, I was really going to leave, he asked if he could spend my last night in my bedroom. At first, I had wanted to refuse, but just the sight of his sad face made me instantly relent and we ended up putting the tent up on my bedroom carpet and pretending we were camping in the Great Outdoors. We played, I told him ever-so-slightly creepy ghost stories which he had grown to love so much, but always had to hold my hand as I weaved a tale of strange happenings in old mansions. Once it was clear he was getting tired, we snuggled down into our sleeping bags and just talked about dreams we had and what he wanted to be when he grew up, which for some inexplicable reason, always involved him having some kind of wild animal as a pet. The following morning, still in his pyjamas, he’d sat on the edge of my bed and watched me pack my last few belongings. It seemed like he had somehow, come to terms with my leaving, but when I closed the last suitcase, he jumped into my arms and just sobbed, just as he had done when he’d been small.
“Please, don’t go, I am going to miss you so much and you said we were always a team.”
I held him tightly while trying to swallow, as it felt my own heart had made its way up my body and was now lodged firmly in my throat. I reassured him, promising we would always be a team, wherever we were, and one day, he would be grown up and go somewhere too.
“But we will always be brother and sister, Cal, it won’t matter how old we get, that never changes any more than how much I love you will.”
My voice had started to crack with the emotion, so I gently released his grip and we walked hand-in-hand down the stairs, with me bumping the case down every single step in one last vaguely ridiculous act of defiance. Once my car was loaded, I’d given him one last hug and then turned to Mum, as always, there didn’t seem to be any kind of emotion happening inside her. She just talked about how I needed to drive carefully and not like a ‘crazy person’, as I would have Louise in the car too. I couldn’t deny, I wanted her to say something about missing me, about how quiet the house would be without me – in fact – anything that showed, that the lack of me within those walls would somehow impact on her. But I had learned a long time ago, she would never say anything I really needed to hear, so although I felt the familiar pang of disappointment, it ca
me as no surprise. As I had driven down the lane, I glanced up into the rearview mirror, I could see Cal waving frantically while Mum did little more than raise her hand as if trying to half-heartedly hail a cab. Just as I was about to turn into the main road, Uncle Jim appeared by the long hedge, so I slowed down to a stop so I could speak to him,
“You take good care of yourself out there, Chicky,” he began, and then, pointing back up to the house, “Don’t you worry about them, I’ll keep an eye on them for you.”
I thanked him and was about to pull away when he thrust an envelope into my hand, as it wasn’t sealed I could see some money poking out,
“Just a little something for you, but no beer, okay?”
I smiled at him, he obviously remembered the school band night, so long before,
“No beer, I promise and you take care of yourself too,” I answered.
He looked down, as he always did when he felt either shy, awkward or both,
“I’ll be alright, Chicky, I’ve promised Cal I will teach him to fish, so that will be some time off for me.”
“Even if he does never stop talking?” I asked mischievously, he laughed,
“Even that, although I might buy myself some earplugs and maybe some for the fish too!”
We both laughed again before I started the car again, as I drove down the main road, I knew he was watching me go even though, this time, I didn’t look back. When I had collected Louise from her house, it was a world apart, she clung to her mother while promising to call every day. She had been quiet the whole time we drove into the city and, I had known, even then, back those ten years ago, our dream of sharing an apartment probably wouldn’t ever happen or if it did, it wouldn’t last.
As I finished my coffee, I looked at the picture of us we had taken when we had first arrived, even though we are both apparently beaming, if you looked closely, you could see the sadness of homesickness in her eyes. She had only lasted a year before she finally found the courage to tell me, she wanted to go home. She spent almost an hour apologising for letting me down and for being a loser, but I had been quick to put that right,
“You’re no loser, you never will be, it’s just your place is there and mine is here,” I began, “and you never let me down, okay? You never have and you never will.”
We had hugged and both wiped away a few tears, but the next morning, there had been no disguising her happiness at going home. I heard her excitedly tell her mother she was on her way and, when I helped her on to the train with her luggage, she looked more like she was going on a long-awaited holiday than leaving behind a dream. As I thought back, perhaps, if I was being totally honest, it had always been more my dream than hers, but as my friend, she had come along for the ride any way and it had not been all bad since we moved. When we’d first arrived, such was our naivete, we had believed we could probably afford to get a place and then spend our days exploring the city, but we quickly found out how wrong we were – the irony was not lost on me, when I made yet another cheese toastie for dinner. When the money started to run out, we both did everything we could to get jobs, although they were a long way from our dream careers, at first, we really didn’t care. As soon as our wages were in the bank, we would sit and carefully do the maths, to make sure the rent was paid, if it was a good week, we would decide on how to spend our fortune. I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered us buying huge donuts and ice cream instead of something ‘healthy.’ We always started out with the best of intentions but just the slightest hint of a cake baking, or an onion ring frying or best of all, the unmistakable lure of the ice cream shop and all thoughts of vegetables disappeared on the breeze.
One particular evening came to mind, after opting to order in pizza, we realised there was a free tub of ice cream included, if we had cheesy garlic bread. When the doorbell rang, Louise jumped up from our battered couch and raced to the door,
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, she sounded so startled I raced to join her, only to find her staggering down the hall, balancing a vast pizza box and a huge tub of Cookie Dough Ice Cream,
“We are going to feel so sick if we eat all of this,” she laughed, as the garlic bread package slipped off the pile and onto the coffee table,
“It’ll be like eating a heart attack on a plate!”
I opened the box, almost immediately, the air was filled with the warm, almost sensual aroma of hot cheese, tomatoes and garlic.
“But what a way to go!” I said, gently easing the first slice from the others and greedily taking a huge bite, Louise looked on in vague horror,
“Did you have to put the whole thing in your mouth at once?”
I grinned,
“If you ask that guy I met the other week, he would tell you, most definitely.”
She winced and then giggled,
“You’re terrible, you have no shame, luckily for me, you’re taking me to hell with you.”
Between mouthfuls I assured her, I would never leave her behind and I could tell by her expression, she knew this to be true. When I knew she wanted to go home, I did think about that night, but not once, had I ever felt she had left me, I knew she had just needed to go. I felt a slight pang of sadness as I thought of our time in this place, we had laughed so much, drunk too much, watched ridiculous movies in our pyjamas and even dared each other to shout out to strangers from the balcony, only to run inside and hide if they looked up. Part of me wished she had stayed, but that was purely selfishness, she was happier there and I belonged here, it was really that simple.
I checked the time and realised I was at risk of being late for work, so after a quick check round to make sure everything was either switched off or closed, I grabbed my bag and left the apartment. Almost as soon as I walked out of the building, it was like someone had turned up the volume of the world, as the air was filled with traffic noise, angry drivers and bustling pedestrians trying to weave their way through the chaos without getting run over. I knew other people found the city stifling, but for me, since the day I had arrived, it felt as if I was somehow plugged into all the energy around me and that had never worn off. As I walked along the street, I felt the warmth of the early morning sun on my face and felt so unbelievably lucky to be a part of everything around me. After all, I had a job I loved, which was so far removed from the first one I’d managed to get all those years ago, in that Godawful burger joint which I, along with the rest of the staff, christened ‘The Hellspot.” I had spent three long years in that place, flipping burgers and dealing with some of the worst customers ever to walk through any doors, some were drunk, high or both and for some reason, their stoned state seemed to invariably give them a deep-seated need to be obnoxious when there weren’t fries to be had or the milkshake machine was broken. I would stand at the till, for eight long hours a day, and empathise with them about the tragedy of not being able to have ice in their Coke. What was worse was when there were special offers to be had, I lost count of how many times some customer would present me with some kind of voucher for one thing and ask if they could ‘swap’ it for something else. I would always say a polite but firm no, which would make the more coherent demand to see the manager. Naturally, that train wreck of a manager, David, who would have probably offered to donate a kidney than actually deal with any kind of confrontation, would always contradict me and give the customer some kind of deal. It had been one such experience, which had resulted in me finally deciding enough was enough, and I had applied for a hundred or more other jobs. After several more disasters, including window-dressing in a bath goods shop and pretending to be a barista in a café, I’d found my place, at last, at ‘The Showroom’, which was ostensibly an art gallery but countless other types of events were held there. It had been owned by the same family for years and had managed to seemingly effortlessly maintain its reputation for being a place to be seen, which was no mean feat in the fickle world of the media. I had got the job purely by chance, as I had been on my way to the library, when a car screeched to a halt n
ext to me, and a man seemed to just tumble out of the passenger side and onto the pavement. The male driver leant out and yelled shrilly at him,
“We are done this time, Cyrus, you’re nothing but a psychic vampire who drains my headspace and makes it impossible for me to process my emotions.”
Before the man had any chance to reply, the car sped off so fast, the driver had obviously misjudged something because a wing mirror flew off and bounced down the road, only for a following car to run straight over it. The man on the floor chuckled,
“Karma is a bitch, David.”
I stood by him, not absolutely sure what to either say or do, the man looked up at me wearily,
“You haven’t bought a ticket, sweetheart, so there’ll be no more show for you today.”
Despite his words, I found myself offering him my hand,
“Let me help you up,” I said firmly, he didn’t take it immediately, he spent at least a minute scanning me from head to toe, with the most intrusively thoughtful expression across his attractive face. Finally, as if he had been holding some kind of internal debate regarding my suitability and had now reached a conclusion, he grasped my hand.