Authors: Dee Winter
“I give you money,” he spits. “Here.” And he hurls a
coin hard at me from his bedside ledge. It catches me right on the eye socket,
just under my brow, dings off my piercing. It hurts,
a lot
, but I don’t
let on. My throat is too tight to talk. I’m not going to cry so I just pick
up my stuff from the floor, dress and leave.
By the time, I’ve got to the bar, walking the whole goddamn
long-arse way, chain smoking, fuming, I’m frostbite cold and damp to my bones. As
I go in it smells lovely of beer, tobacco and cider. An invisible cloud of
heat wraps round me. The red carpet looks invitingly warm. I go out the back
first and sort out my damp hair and spruce up my face a little. Where the coin
leaves a mark I dab on some beige concealer. It stings. A little pink gloss
on my lips, and some black eyeliner too and I don’t look too bad. There are a
few minutes still before I am supposed to start so I wait and sit on a bar
stool. The surface of the floor is uneven. It wobbles uncertainly. Hannah
makes me a coffee and asks if I am ok. Her eyes look closely at the angry red
crescent on my face. She’s finishing soon, going out on the town, she tells
me. “So, where are you going?” I ask.
“Oh, just that bar at the end of the main road. Why
don’t you meet us later? I don’t remember what it’s called.”
“Ugh! I think I know where you mean. That awful
place...” I say, and think of the creepy sweaty guys that stare at you, the cheesy
disco music they play, the stickiness of the floor, and the broken glass under
your shoe. “No thanks.”
“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, but the drinks are
really cheap. Happy hour’s ‘til midnight, and girls get in free before 11.”
“Yeah, well... ok maybe. I should be finished by about
12,” I say. “I might see you in there.”
Yeah righto
.
“Ok. Cool.” she says.
Then Louise strolls in. It feels like I’ve been
working all of ten minutes. I like Louise but I don’t feel easy with her, always
a little on edge. It doesn’t help that she’s always skint. Plus she owes me
about a hundred cigarettes. Anyway, I say, “Hey Lou... Don’t tell me you’ve
made me come in and waste my time!” I say, mocking yet friendly.
“Elle, you’re a real doll. But I do need this shift. I
really need the money.” She laughs almost as she says this. I don’t see why
it’s funny. Maybe it’s a nervous laugh but she’s not a nervous type.
Hannah, all-seeing all-hearing is over at the end side
of the bar. She says loudly, “You really take the wafer Lou...” She turns to
me, “Ella, as long as you don’t mind... Get yourself a drink, make it a double.
Louise is buying.”
“I don’t mind if I do.” I say. I pour a generous double
vodka and coke into a tall glass filled with ice and poke in a pink bendy straw.
Yummy.
Just as I sit down to drink, my phone rings and my
stomach lurches. I think it might be Benny and I would just not know what to
say to him right now without it blowing it up into a row almighty. I’m still
mad as hell but I still love him deep. It’s a strange feeling but I needn’t
worry it’s not Benny, its Rob.
Yay
. “Whatya doing?” he says, sounding surprisingly
happy and positive.
“Nothing much. I was working, but not now. I’m just having
a drink at the bar with the girls.”
“Oh ok. Want to come for a drive? Just I’m going to
Brixton. I thought we could go out clubbing after I’ve seen this mate of mine.
I know how you like a rave.” I think now this could be fun. I love clubbing
in south London. It will be more fun than carrying on like this. Doubles are
expensive. A night out with Rob will be practically free.
“Yeah, ok then. Cool. What mate do you have to see?”
“Jon.”
“Oh. Ok...” I say. I don’t know Jon.
“I have to stop off quick and see someone else as
well.”
“Oh, ok. Cool. Can you pick me up? I’m ready now.”
“Yeah, sure.” He says and cuts me off. My night is
looking up. A big night out will do me fine, although we don’t and won’t talk
about Benny or what happened earlier either. I buy myself a quick single and
splash and I’m about half way through finishing when there’s a loud treble toot
of a car horn from close-by outside. I down the rest of it in one and say
quick goodbyes to everyone.
I go outside and get in Rob’s car. “Can we stop by
home please? I need to get stuff. Clothes and things.” He gives me a
doubtful look. I smile, please.
“Fine. It’s on the way. Just be quick, yeah?”
“Ok, of course. I will be...” In the meantime, I
look through Rob’s music and settle on some smooth drum and bass I find in the
glove box. We stop back at the flat and I run from the car to my room and
struggle for a while to find anything. I sit on the single mattress on the
floor for at least five minutes, just trying to think. Trainers are already on
feet and I’m wearing my coat. I pick up my rucksack and start to put a stop-out
bag together. Boots. Socks. Joggers. A hoodie. Make-up. Wash-bag. Hair
stuff. Going out clothes. That’ll do. Rob comes in also, about ten minutes
after me. I hear him thumping around. He’s probably looking for cigarettes or
something. He’s still ready before me and back in the car and revving loud,
impatient.
And we’re off again, drum and bass rolling. We drive
for about twenty minutes or so. There’s a lot of slow moving traffic and a lot
of red lights. It seems like forever as we don’t seem to be getting anywhere
fast. This is London. Rob speeds like a devil when he gets a break. Eventually
we park up, not too far from what looks like a reasonably nice looking pub. Dark
windows, dark purple walls, a few dead plants in the flower troughs outside. “Let’s
hope it’s got food,” I say optimistically. My belly is growling loud again, embarrassing
now, like a storm getting up. He looks at me oh so sharp. I make an over-sad face
back. He smiles. I sit at a table I find that isn’t too dirty, put my coat on
the back of a chair that feels slightly sticky, and start looking at a tatty
menu while he’s at the bar. Then as I get up to go join him, I realise I’m
treading on a soggy chip under the table, now mashed in to the navy blue
carpet. I join him at the bar to order food. Rob has already got our drinks. He
only bought me a single. He’s drinking what looks like a pint of coke which is
good. His driving is reckless enough sober even though he says he’s safe. I
think he’s safe. Sometimes.
While I’m still fussing about what food to order I
watch Rob who’s gone away to sit down. He’s making a phone call, hushed, all whisper
whisper. I can’t hear. He must be calling one of his people to find out about
something or other. He spends so much time on that phone. So many people he
knows. He seems to bump into someone wherever he is. I don’t know so many. Only
a few. There are my best girl friends, who are really my boyfriend’s mates’
girlfriends. Then there is Rob of course, and Benny. The girls from the pub.
College mates. The only other numbers on my phone are the hair salon and the
pizza place, oh, and mum of course.
From the window by our table I can see the pretty November
sky, bright orange and dark purple and lots of pretty shades of grey. It’s so
beautiful, makes me appreciate life for a minute. It’s a miracle we got here
as we did and no police stopped us. Rob was a world away, distracted from his
driving, pulling out to the side every time we stopped, trying to look ahead. He
nearly hit someone twice. I guess it’s more of a miracle we got here at all. Anyway,
I’m happy.
We eat a dinner of toasted bacon sandwiches, ketchup
in mine, brown sauce in Rob’s, and a small bowl of curly fries with cheese. There
is too much butter in my sandwich. I scrape some out. I pull out what I can
of the bacon fat too. The toast is a little burnt, but I cannot complain now I’ve
drowned it in tomato sauce. I sprinkle three small brown paper packets of
pepper over the fries. With our food soon all finished, I get up to have a go
on the fruit machine. Rob gives me money. He blames me for pressing the wrong
buttons when I lose. He takes over, pushing my meddling hands away.
I stop. I get distracted. A beautiful man just stole
all my attention. He is very tall and built like an American football player. He
has pale skin and dark spiked hair. He has a day or three of stubble and
gorgeous wide brown eyes that are almost all-distracting from his once broken
nose and big scar below his bottom lip. I’m about to switch on the smile and
work my magic when Rob gets in front of me and shoulder blocks the guy. He
grabs his hand violently and shakes it. They’re friends already. Actually, it
doesn’t shock me any more, the amount of people he knows. “Jeez!” I say, smiling.
“You’d better introduce me.” After they unlock hands and finish their what-ups
they turn to me.
“Jon, this is my sister, Ella.” I smile ‘Hi’ and lean
forward and kiss him on the cheek. Trust Rob to say “my sister”, most likely
putting the full stop to any plan I had of getting it on with the lovely Jon. “Jon’s
friends with Tony,” Rob adds. This makes me like him slightly less. I can’t
help raising my lip a little in auto-reaction but I don’t think he noticed.
“Do you want a drink?” Jon asks in deep south London.
“Vodka and coke. Thanks.” I say, liking him slightly
more again. I’m left at the fruit machine. It’s still teasing me with its
dancing lights as both men turn to the bar all close together again. I can
only see their backs, both in black leather but it looks like they could be
holding hands, playing scissor, paper, stone, or having a thumb war maybe. I
turn back to the machine. I think I know what I’m doing when really I haven’t
got a clue. I somehow win. I get so embarrassed when it makes big clunking
noises and spits out money. I almost wish I hadn’t won as what seems like the
whole pub turns to look. I put the coins in my hoodie pockets and look round
to see that Rob is sitting at the table and Jon is walking towards me.
Yikes
.
My heart beats a little faster. My cheeks start to burn.
I feel stupid as he hands me my drink. “Well done,
hey...” He says. “Next round on you” and with that he smiles and winks. I’m
standing frozen to the spot, grinning like a fool and feeling sick in my tummy.
I watch him turn and go over to sit with Rob. Only then my cheeks start to
cool down.
Foolio
. I feel too silly now to go over and join them, so I
turn back to the fruit machine. The coins are now burning a hole in my pocket.
I think to myself.
You’re so silly, Skit. Come
on. Jon is just a guy, just another friend of Rob’s. He can’t be that scary. He
must be ok
. I think I’ll just down my vodka and coke. I splutter as I do.
It must be at least a double as its strength socks me like a firepunch. I
have a quick look round to check if anyone has seen me making a mess of myself.
I shake the drops off my sleeve. I put some more coins in the machine and
turn back to my drink. Braced for its strength this time, I drink it all in
one go.
The money seems to last. Usually I’m skint in a
flash. I must be getting the hang of it I think, proud of myself. I kind of
lose track of time when suddenly a hand slinks across my lower back and jolts
me into reality. Someone’s standing right behind me. I move my eyes back
without moving my head. It’s Jon. He smells good, of expensive aftershave,
makes me think of rainforests. Nervous tension fizzes through me like
electricity. “You ok?” He says.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice raising a pitch or two, “I
could do with another drink.” I’m absolutely stumped to think of anything else
to say. He pauses behind me for an agonisingly awkward second or two before
going to the bar. I use the time to compose myself and take a very deep breath
that fills me right up with air to the top of my skull. I look round to see if
Rob is watching me and he’s gone. There’s now someone else sitting at the
table.
It’s not long before Jon is back. “Here,” he says,
hands me yet another glass.
“Thanks,” I say. “Where’s Rob gone? Is he outside?”
“No, he’s had to just go somewhere quick. He won’t be
long. I’m your babysitter for now.” He says, with another wink.
“Err... I don’t need no babysitter.” I say, offended.
“How about a kiss then?” He says.
I entertain the thought of getting it on with the
lovely Jon, right here, right now but then I think logic, push him away, tut
and say, “Rob would kill you.” I pause, “Anyway, I got a boyfriend.” Then I
think, maybe I don’t. Well, I think I still do, but the thought of playing
single there looked good for a second, only a second.
“Do you want to play pool?” I say, bored now of the
fruit machine. My confidence is starting to improve as the vodka kicks in
evermore. I still have some coins left over from my earlier fluke win so I set
the table. Jon stands next to me and shows me how to set the frame up properly.
I never knew there was a right or wrong way, just that the black went in the
middle. I am impressed. I keep sipping at my vodka as we play. Despite the
Dutch courage, I feel hugely self-conscious, and feel myself burn up inside a
little when I have to lean in and take a shot right in front of where he’s
standing. He doesn’t move an inch. The drink keeps coming and it’s not long
before I’m well on my way. I can’t play pool at the best of times and now I’m
drunk it’s just embarrassing. I say to Jon we should stop before I do
something stupid, or fall over. He laughs.