Anywhere's Better Than Here (13 page)

‘‘Now. What can I do to help you?''

Laurie felt her heart should be beating quickly at least. But nothing. She wondered what emotions she'd feel if she revealed to the assistant what she'd done. Had she really done anything yet? Or would the crime actually take place once she left the shop, items concealed and unpaid for. She smiled at the assistant, thinking it was hard to focus on anything other than her/his extravagant and really quite pretty eye make up. She'd used a range of shades of blues and purples and Laurie knew from experience that it wasn't easy to use these colours without looking like the victim of some sort of even-handed assault.

‘‘No. Not today. I was looking for something quite specific, but you don't have it.''

The assistant frowned. ‘‘Are you sure? I could have a look in the back for you?''

It was a strangely neither-here-nor-there voice. Quite deep – but not suspiciously so.

‘‘No really. I'm okay.'' She smiled. ‘‘Your eye make up is lovely by the way.''

The assistant beamed at Laurie. ‘‘Thanks. Thanks very much.''

Laurie smiled as she left the shop and stepped back out into the street. It was nice to be nice. She glanced once over her shoulder into the shop.

That was definitely a man.

The last thing Laurie was expecting when she walked back into her flat was Ed's mum decorating a puny little Christmas tree. But there she was: a clutch of fairy lights in one hand and tree-top star in the other. She'd obviously put one load of sparklers on and was standing back to wrap a second set around. There was no sign of Ed.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then both said hello at the same time.

Without Ed there, there was a different kind of tension in the air. Not so much the usual strain of politeness and barely feigned interest. More a frank assessment between equals. The two women looked at each other more boldly.

Laurie spoke first. ‘‘Sandy.''

The older woman smiled in a way that impressed Laurie. Perhaps there was more to Sandy than she'd previously let on.

‘‘What's going on with you then?'' The question wasn't unfriendly, but Laurie couldn't be bothered with the deference she usually showed. She opened the front of her coat out and, without undoing the zip, dropped the stolen bag on to the sofa.

If Sandy had any comment to make, she kept it to herself. She looked between the bag and Laurie and made no move to carry on with the tree. Laurie indicated the tree with a nod of her head.

‘‘Don't let me stop you.'' She smiled to show she wasn't being sarcastic but Sandy placed the decorations on a chair.

‘‘I can't really be bothered.''

Laurie sat down.

‘‘Cup of tea?'' asked Sandy.

Laurie moved to get up.

‘‘Oh no, no. I meant I'd make it. I'm parched.''

Laurie sank back gratefully against the cushions and shut her eyes.

‘‘Thanks Sandy.'' She sighed. ‘‘Me too.'' She pointed at the bag without opening her eyes. ‘‘Shopping.''

‘‘Looks nice,'' said Sandy. ‘‘Is it for an occasion?''

Laurie could feel her standing over her, but was too tired all of a sudden to much care.

‘‘Don't tell me my son's taking you somewhere!''

Laurie opened her eyes as a curious mix of excitement and dread ran through her. Did Sandy know something? Had Ed guessed and said something to her and this whole thing was a ruse to elicit a confession and move things along? Sandy was looking wary.

‘‘No,'' said Laurie. ‘‘It's a work thing.'' Easy, she told herself, don't reveal anything else. This all had to be done at her pace – not anyone else's. She forced herself to stand up. ‘‘Sit down, Sandy. You're the guest. Anyway,'' she pointed at the tree. ‘‘Looks like you've been hard at it.''

‘‘Well. I got over here earlier than I expected and I thought, now that you're working night shift,'' she looked down at her hands in her lap and then up again at Laurie. ‘‘You might not manage to decorate yourself.'' She smiled shyly and Laurie felt like a cow.

Again.

She walked into the kitchen and called through to Sandy as she put the kettle on.

‘‘So what has been happening with you?''

‘‘Well, actually, something quite exciting.''

‘‘Really?'' She couldn't believe it. ‘‘Have you started seeing someone?'' As soon as she said it, she regretted it. There was a stony silence from the other room. ‘‘Sandy?''

‘‘No Laurie. It isn't that. No.''

Laurie opened and closed cupboards needlessly.

‘‘But I have passed my driving test.''

‘‘Wow! That's great Sandy!'' Laurie popped her head round the kitchen door. ‘‘I didn't even know you were having lessons.''

‘‘No one did. I was too worried in case I failed.'' She looked like she'd burst with pride. ‘‘But, do you know what? I passed first time.'' She hopped about a bit. ‘‘I couldn't believe the man when he told me. I nearly kissed him.'' She went bright red and sat down.

‘‘That's wonderful though Sandy. Really it is.''

Laurie went back into the kitchen.

‘‘So what made you decide to do it then?'' She laid the tea tray. ‘‘I mean, I'm not being funny, but you've managed fine all these years, why do it now?''

‘‘Well, Laurie.'' There was a pause. ‘‘Sometimes you reach a point in life where you stop and think, ‘‘What's going on? What am I doing with my life?''''

Laurie stood dead still and waited. There was another pause.

‘‘And I decided that the time had come to make some changes.''

Laurie forced herself to speak. ‘‘Oh right. What sort of changes then?''

‘‘Well, Laurie. For one, I didn't want anyone telling me when I could go somewhere or where I was to sit.'' She took a deep breath. Laurie realised that this was the most Sandy had said to her in one go before. ‘‘I wanted to be my own conductor, my own time tabler. Do you see?''

Laurie placed both hands on the counter top and didn't reply. She'd started to cry again. This time it wasn't much – just a few tears. But she knew she wouldn't be able to talk for a minute.

She looked out of the window at the drying green below and waited until the tears had dried up. God, get a grip! What was going on here?

Sandy appeared at the door.

‘‘Are you okay Laurie?''

Without turning round but watching Sandy in the reflection in the darkening window, Laurie shook her head.

Sandy took a step forward. She raised her right hand and Laurie watched it hover a few inches from her back for a moment before Sandy dropped it again. Laurie was thankful. The last thing she needed was Sandy being kind to her – the whole sorry mess would come tumbling out and she'd confess to her would-be mother-in-law before she told her soon-to-be-ex boyfriend. That would be taking it too far, even for Laurie.

Laurie pulled herself together and calmed her face back into some sort of normal look.

‘‘Sorry.'' She grimaced. ‘‘Hormones.''

A flicker of distaste crossed Sandy's face. ‘‘Oh. Right.''

Laurie clapped her hands. ‘‘Right! Now wasn't I making some tea?'' She busied herself rearranging the items she'd already placed on the tray. ‘‘Now, I'm afraid we've no biscuits, Sandy.''

‘‘Oh that's fine, fine.'' She moved towards the tray and put her hands on the edge of the tray. ‘‘I'll just take this next door.''

‘‘No, no.'' Said Laurie gripping the edge of the tray. ‘‘I'll do that.''

The two women stared at each other.

They stood like that for a long second until they were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and Ed entering the flat. Sandy dropped her hands away but kept her eyes on Laurie.

Ed stood in the doorway and looked between the two of them.

‘‘What's going on?'' His eyes flicked between Laurie and his mother.

‘‘Nothing,'' said Laurie.

‘‘We were just talking about what to get you for your Christmas,'' said Sandy.

She didn't look the slightest perturbed. She didn't look shifty or nervous. There was no way to tell that she was lying. Laurie was shocked. Shocked and impressed.

‘‘Oh wow. Is it a Scalectrix?''

Laurie was still watching Sandy's face and caught a glimpse of annoyance. There was no telling if Ed was joking. Most likely he wasn't. Laurie started to feel sorry for Sandy. Ed was such a dolt.

‘‘I need to go and get ready,'' said Laurie, making her escape.

‘‘Ready for what?'' Ed's voice sounded so whiny. ‘‘I thought we could order in.''

‘‘As exciting as that sounds,'' Laurie called back over her shoulder. ‘‘I'm going out.''

‘‘Out where?'' Ed had followed her into the living room.

‘‘A work thing.'' She reached down and picked up the clutch bag.

Ed caught up with her and put his hand on her shoulder.

‘‘What work thing?'' He squeezed her shoulder. It was almost sore. She shrugged him off.

‘‘A night out. A Christmas night out.'' She couldn't look at him.

‘‘You didn't say anything.''

‘‘Yeah, well.'' She forced herself to look up. ‘‘I don't have to tell you everything.''

He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘‘Why not?''

The tone in his voice was new. This was most unusual. Laurie narrowed her eyes at him.

‘‘Let's not do this now, Ed.'' Her tone was weary. Usually that did the trick. It cowed him.

He glared at her. ‘‘Do what, Laurie?''

She breathed heavily through her nose and flicked a hand at him.

‘‘This.'' She pointed at him then at herself. ‘‘This,'' she hissed at him and indicated the kitchen where his mother was surely standing listening.

He shook his head, but she saw his shoulders go down.

She scooted out of the room with the clutch held tightly to her chest.

She shut the door behind her, leaning on it for a moment to make sure Ed wasn't following her. He wouldn't usually come after her looking for trouble, but something was in the air and anyway, some people needed an audience to get their ire going. Maybe Ed was going that way and the presence of his mum might spur him on.

But he wasn't coming. She could hear him and Sandy talking to each other and the clink of the mugs and the teapot. That ought to buy her ten minutes or so. She didn't want to have a proper shower because it would look suspicious and she didn't really have enough time anyhow. She lifted the leg of her jeans and felt the skin there. Not massively hairy, but it looked like she'd be naked with Gerry and she wouldn't be able to stop thinking about how hairy her legs were if she didn't do something about it.

Her makeup stuff was on the chest of drawers. She had a rake about and found some body lotion she'd been given a couple of Christmases before. She took the lid off and sniffed it. Not completely unpleasant but she had a feeling she might get a reaction from it. Rash or stubble? Rash. Hairiness always suggested a lack of cleanliness to Laurie and unclean was the last thing she wanted to be feeling later.

She found a disposable razor in the back of her undies drawer and laid a towel on the bed. Stripping off to her pants, she lathered the lotion on to both legs from the knee down. Immediately her skin began to tingle. She shrugged; there was nothing for it and it would settle down in a couple of hours. She pulled the razor up her left leg from the ankle to the knee and hurriedly repeated until the leg was done. She had a quick look – no nicks. Good. She wiped the hairy razor across the towel, which she'd realised was actually quite damp and smelled rather unpleasant, and swapped legs. This time she was even quicker and unfortunately managed to cut herself twice: once on the calf which hardly bled at all and once on the side of her ankle across the tendon or whatever it was that ran up the side of her leg. It was a bit of a bleeder and stang like buggery. She pressed the towel against it for a minute and then patted the towel firmly against the invisible cut until it had almost stopped. Her legs felt like they were sun burned. She resisted the temptation to claw at them.

Now she had to find clean undies. She looked in the more obvious places first (her underwear drawer, under the chair, under the bed) but found nothing useful. All she had left was a couple of pairs of ugly too-big knickers that she wasn't even sure were really hers, or just some ex-flatmate's that had gotten mixed up with her laundry a million years ago. Next she looked in her other drawers and the bottom of the wardrobe. No knickers, but a fairly clean pair of black tights and her one sexy bra. She could just go knickerless, but the thought of sitting all night in half a set of underwear with her nether regions smothered in a pair of tights like a fleshy bank robber filled her with horror.

She searched through her dirty laundry and found a pair of not bad pants. Wrapping herself in the damp towel, she sneaked through to the bathroom and washed the pants under the hot tap and squeezed out as much water as she could. She'd be able to just about get these dry with the hair drier and surely, next to her body, any residual dampness would burn off pretty quickly.

She did the best she could with the hair dryer and then set about her face. Luckily she wasn't having an outbreak of spots and it didn't take long to get her foundation and concealer sorted out. The problem with doing your make up for a special occasion was always when it came to the eye make-up, usually the eye liner, something went wrong and required an upper face re-do. Laurie liked to do a bit of black liquid eye liner flicking up at the sides in little cat's eyes, but this was a job that required a quick, steady hand and a lightness of attitude that she wasn't sure she could muster. Plus, as soon as you started to fuck up eye liner, it was hard to fix mistakes and get back on track. What she found helpful was to fake a hilarious conversation whilst looking at the process in the mirror.