Authors: Dee Winter
As I trot quickly to the shop, I get sweet smiling
looks and a whistle from a couple of guys I pass and my confidence soars. I
buy a couple more blue drinks, a loaf of white bread, milk, cheese puffs,
cigarettes and peppermint gum. As I start walking back, I notice the kebab
shop. Kebab is not my favourite food but I think sensibly, not eating properly
all day and then drinking on an empty stomach is not good. I think of last
night and the trouble I got in, not even being that drunk at all. I get some
dinner. I order chips and pitta with lots of salad. Extra cucumber, tomato, a
little red cabbage, lettuce, no onion, mayo, a little chilli sauce and one big
green chilli, which I never ask for but always get and will never eat. I
wander back to the flat eating chips as I go.
As I get to the garden gate that never shuts, I look
up, surprised to see someone standing on the stone steps that go up to the
flats above. I see a woman with her back to me. She has fair skin and a mass
of white blonde dreadlocks. Looking closer, I see they’re plaits with delicate
pastel colours twisted in, mainly pinks, greens and yellows. Her ears glitter
with piercings. She’s carrying a big brown woolly jumper. Her upper body is
covered by a huge tattoo, spreading everywhere, a mix of purple and yellow
stars and red fire and a big green dragon. It could be a lizard but I think it
has wings. Her clothes are plain, blue jeans so faded they are white in places,
in shreds at the knee and round the hem, a shirt that probably was a colour
once but has also faded to nondescript grey, a paisley print purple scarf tied
as a headband and dungarees so big and baggy I cannot see her feet. She looks
amazing. I realise then she’s not alone as she moves. I see her other hand
holding onto something, an inch-wide leather strap. Without warning a brown and
white burst of energy comes bounding through the open door at me, wild and
barking. She holds the lead with both hands now, pulling it shorter and takes
a few steps back to shut the door behind her. She stares at me hard. Her eyes
meet mine and something shivers inside me but I feel scared of the dog. I
look up her briefly. She’s still staring, looking uncomfortable. The dog is
still going wild and I’m forced to watch it intently. I’m a little in shock,
having had a life flash before your eyes moment, thinking I was about to get
mauled. The rabid-looking thing bounces around her ankles barking still, now trying
to bite off its leash.
“I’m Heather. I don’t think we’ve met. We only moved
in recently. Nice to meet you.” I shake my head in agreement, still staring
at the dog, frightened. I don’t look up at her.
“I’m Ella,” I say, still looking down, “I live here
with my brother Rob.” I point at our door.
“Yes,” she says, “You will have to introduce me.”
“Ok,” I say, thinking that’s kind of inevitable being
neighbours, and also thinking he is going to hate your dog even more than me if
it makes any sort of barking noises, ever.
“Say Ella.” she says, just as I am hoping she will
just take the dog away, “Why don’t you come up for tea sometime? You’d be more
than welcome, you and your brother. Just come up and give me a knock. It’s Flat
B.”
I look up at her again. Her glowing light brown eyes are
still staring, and she now looks even more familiar but from where I cannot
place. She smiles and lessens her grip on the dog’s lead and it scrambles down
the steps so fast it almost falls. She chases after it down the stairs,
through the always open gate and up the street. She looks over her shoulder. “Do
drop in and see me!” she says and I watch the dog, and her mass of dirty blond
hair and denim, disappearing up the road.
I shrug my shoulders and feel strange but a little smiley.
I even laugh a little. It’s nice to know the neighbours. I don’t like the
dog. We knew that someone had moved in. Rob was disturbed when he was trying
to sleep during the day. There was a moving van and people going backwards and
forwards and there were a lot of scraping and banging noises. He hadn’t seen
anyone yet to say ‘Hello’. He was still sulking about the lost sleep rather
than wanting to go and introduce himself. I am happy to break the ice but Rob may
not be joining me for a cup of tea. I’m not going to be the one to tell him
she’s got a dog. I am looking forward to it, although I don’t really like any dogs,
especially wild ones like that. But Heather seems genuinely nice. I like it
that she’s a bit different and fresh. I hope we can be friends. It would be
nice to have a new friend and next door too. It could be great. I will most
definitely take her up on her offer. Then I suddenly feel more excited about that
than I do about my imminent date. Back in the flat I quickly finish my drink
left in the kitchen and start to check my bag has everything that I need for
tonight. I pull out from deep within the cupboard my fur coat. It smells a
bit musty. It hasn’t seen the light of day for a while. I give it a shake and
spray it with perfume. Then I’m all ready set to go. A quick time check shows
I still have a mind-numbing half hour to spare and I still might be early if I
leave then. I wait, pacing around the flat, boots hurting, digging in me already.
I switch on the TV, sit down and smoke a cigarette and start to drink my second
drink.
My phone beeps just as I’m closing my eyes, counting slowly
up and down, trying to get relaxed. I don’t go to it immediately. I don’t care
if it’s Benny. If it’s Rob, I’m not too bothered either, someone else,
who
else
... It might be Etienne cancelling, I suddenly think. Curiosity bites
and moves me over to my bag. It’s mum.
She’s texts,
Be careful! Love you xx
. I’m
happy to hear from her. I love my mum so much. Mum and my brother are the
only people on Earth I would trust my life to. I know that they would always
be there for me at any time, any place, no matter what. Look at last night, ok
it was my own stupid fault I got stuck in the middle of danger, middle of
nowhere, middle of the night and Rob still came and got me. Mum would have
helped if Rob didn’t, she would’ve worked out something. I certainly would not
have wanted to wake or worry her at that sort of hour. She always says take
care. She always says be careful. I know she means it. I did not listen.
Now
I will
, I say,
I will
, and then I will probably go and be reckless
as usual.
The minutes tick by and finally, at last, it’s now
time for me to go as I check my phone. I pull on my coat, and feel warmer
already. I quickly step out of the flat and rattle the door to check that it
is shut and then I step out on to the street. I can smell strong spices, maybe
one of the neighbours is cooking a curry. I check the time again. It’s a five
minute walk to the train station and my train is due in four. After having so
much time before, I have still now managed to run late. I need to do more than
just walk now. I break into a gentle jog. I don’t think I would be able to
run anyway in these boots. I might have to. The train will not wait for me.
Now my heart’s beating fast like I’ve taken some type
of natural high. This forced upon me exercise makes me feel exhilarated.
However I soon feel dampened when I get on the platform I see my train is
delayed by twelve minutes. I stand and just stare at the sign in disbelief. There
are quite a few people on the platform already. I feel eyes looking at me. I
give people cold stares back.
Don’t look at me now
. I wonder why
they’re looking. Maybe it’s because I tutted loudly. Maybe it’s the skirt.
Maybe it’s the blue alcopop in my hand. The minutes tick by slowly and I stand
back against the wall and light a cigarette discreetly, knowing I’m breaking
the law, again. I can’t see the harm though, this is the open air. I feel
worried now that I’m going to be late and he’s not going to wait. All my
efforts wasted. I think about turning back towards the exit gates and just
going home. I think no. He will wait, he’ll be there. I feel frightened
still, but excited by what lies ahead.
Eventually the train arrives and I feel all stupid and
scared again. This really is happening. My first date. I step onto the
train that smells unpleasantly of damp clothing and body odour. It’s just a
few stops to the underground, then a few more stops to my destination. As soon
as the train pulls out of the station I feel my nerves attacking me again. I certainly
can’t smoke now. My drink is finished. I drop the bottle in the bin behind my
seat. It lands with a clunk.
There’s no turning back now. Then I think I can turn back
any time. I know I’m being silly. Even when I see him, if it’s all too much,
there’s nothing to stop me turning on my heel and heading home. Even if I summon
the nerve to get there and speak to him I can still make an excuse and leave.
I text Rob and ask him to text or call me in an hour so I can pretend some
emergency is going on and make my escape if I need to. I don’t want to lie. I
do it too much already. It’s a bad habit. But if I lie to Etienne from the
outset, what chance have we got. Lying can be good for only a few reasons.
One, to protect yourself. Two, to protect others. And maybe three, for
personal gain, which is the worst reason of all.
Etienne. I don’t know him but I care for everyone a
little bit. Until they give me a reason not to. But there’s something about
him I’ve fallen for already. He has potential. I make a promise not to lie to
him or try not to at least. My stomach flips again and I realise I’m excited
now. I’m looking forward to seeing him. I am ready for this. As I change
trains onto the underground I realise I’m about halfway there and excitement burns
bright, like a dancing candle flame. I’m still a tiny bit scared too but I’m
confident, hopeful even, this is going to go well. I feel I can’t be looking
too bad. I have seen people looking at me in what I hope is a good way. Maybe
I imagine it. I have had a few drinks. I don’t seem to be as drunk as I scientifically
should be. I feel fine.
Remember girl, you have college to go to in the
morning
, the sensible voice in my head says.
Go careful
.
My final destination is now one stop away. I start to
panic again and as the doors of the train swing open for the penultimate time. I
almost get up and get off. A wave of terror engulfs me and it takes all my willpower
to stay seated. My legs are like tightly coiled springs. I have to hold on to
them with both hands under my knees, as I don’t trust them not to catapult me
off the train involuntarily. Then the doors are closing, beeping loudly,
making me jump. My mind then must go blank for a minute or two because next
thing I know, I look up and we are at my stop. But my body has locked solid.
My feet numb. I can’t move. It takes herculean strength now to pull my body
up. My brain just about gets the upper hand and in the dying seconds and I’m
up and out of the doors, just as they’re closing.
But on the platform and I’m frozen again, unable to
move, like an unfortunate misplaced statue. I feel like a total idiot as
people push by me annoyed, trying to get past. I’m in the way, but I cannot
move. Sensible head says loudly,
MOVE! You have to move! You can’t just
stand here and do nothing.
I think they will send someone in a white coat to
come and get me if I wait here too much longer. Truth is I don’t know what to
do. I manage to get my feet to move a tiny little step forward. Then another
person jolts into me quite hard from behind and I am forced to move forward and
then I just compel my legs to keep on walking, fearing I will only get bashed
into again if I don’t. I make determined solid efforts to head towards the yellow
signs that say Way Out. I solemnly shuffle myself into the next available lift
again smelling of stale sweat and cheap perfume and it takes me up and opens
out into the fresh air.
As the cold hits me my brain wobbles about in my head
and I feel like I’ve stepped off a fairground ride. The ground moves beneath me
though my feet stand still. I’ve let go of the steering wheel and I’m now the
passenger. I don’t even look to see what time it is. I don’t know if I’m
early or late and really, I don’t want to know. This is an out of body
experience, like a dream. I feel like I’m floating slightly, like my shoes
have cloud-lined soles.
There are so many people, so many faces. I can smell someone
smoking nearby and I instantly crave a cigarette. I can also smell food,
hotdogs with onions and sweet donuts maybe cooking nearby on a corner but I
cannot see. All I see is people. My eyes leap from face to face. There are
lots and lots of young men waiting outside the station, average height,
brownish hair, light skinned, all looking pretty much the same. Fearful, I shut
my eyes and realise I cannot see the picture of his face clearly, or his self
as a whole in my mind. I am worried.
What if I don’t see him? How long do
I look for?
Then, I think he might see me first and take me by surprise.
I don’t want a shock so I withdraw. As I step back I tread on someone’s foot again,
I say sorry. They don’t even notice. I light a cigarette and try to be calm.
Step off my cloud. This is real. From the safer distance I watch the waiting
faces. It seems so many other people are waiting too but I cannot see him. I
relax a little against the cold wall. I think he’s not coming. I’m being
stood up. I don’t have to be here. I can go home.