Anywhere's Better Than Here (19 page)

‘‘What happened? Where were you?''

‘‘All over the place. Afghanistan eventually.''

‘‘What was it like?''

‘‘What was it
like
?''

She nodded.

‘‘Hellish. At times.''

‘‘What do you mean?''

‘‘It was brutal.'' His shoulders slumped. ‘‘Bosnia was the worst.''

‘‘And what were you doing there? Come on Gerry, you need to talk about it.''

‘‘I was working with the UN.''

‘‘Right.'' She paused. ‘‘What did that entail then?''

‘‘That entailed,'' he said sarcastically, ‘‘A lot of spade work.''

‘‘What? Digging things up?''

‘‘Mass graves.'' His sarcastic tone was gone now. She waited for him to go on, but he was looking into space. She nudged him.

‘‘We dug out mass graves so that people could have something like proper burials.'' His head drooped. ‘‘They weren't just soldiers, but old people, women, children,'' he rubbed his thumb over his eyelids as he spoke, ‘‘babies.''

She touched his arm. ‘‘God, that must have been awful.''

‘‘That's one way of putting it.'' He shook his head again.

‘‘And was that what made you leave the army?''

‘‘No, not really. It was important work. I still think that.'' He sighed. ‘‘But my CO suggested I had a break from it. I didn't want to go, but eventually I had no choice. Things went too far.''

‘‘What do you mean, went too far?'' What was ‘‘going too far'' in a war? She hated to think.

‘‘I was having dreams, nightmares. I was drinking too much, starting to cry, talking too much to the locals. Making a tit of myself, the army.''

‘‘I don't understand. Don't they expect that?''

He nodded. ‘‘Sort of, but it was me. I just wouldn't take a break. It was like I couldn't stop.''

‘‘Oh.'' She nodded, she knew what that was like. ‘‘When my mum died I wouldn't let anyone else do anything.''

‘‘When was that?''

She couldn't speak. She put her hand up to cover her mouth and pressed hard, hurting herself to stop from crying. But it was no use, she was shaking and shaking, crying really hard, and all she could think of was:
What am I doing? What am I doing?

Gerry pulled her close and she clung to the front of his jumper with her right hand, still covering her mouth with her left. She wasn't making any sound but her body shuddered as she gulped air in and pushed tears out. They sat like that for what seemed like a long time and Gerry held her close and sometimes stroked her hair until the crying subsided and she sat, squeezed dry, grafted on to Gerry. She felt him breathing in and out and matched her inhalations to his until she felt like they were taking in the same air together and that their hearts were beating at the same time, circulating the same blood.

She wished that things could just end like this and that time would stop.

Gerry kept stroking her hair and tiredness washed over her. She started to dream about being on a bus with Gerry and two girls she'd been friends with at primary school. The girls had a paper bag with sweets in it that they were passing back and forth, refusing to share with Laurie or Gerry. She reached forward and snatched a sweetie and was about to put it in her mouth when she realised it was a baby kitten. She woke with a start as Gerry gently pushed her up to a sitting position. She opened her eyes to see Ed standing in front of the table.

‘‘Fuck,'' she whispered.

Nobody said anything. Both men looked at Laurie, clearly expecting her to explain the situation.

‘‘Hello Ed.'' She smiled weakly. ‘‘This is Gerry. Gerry – Ed.''

She noticed a teenage boy standing a few feet behind Ed staring intently at her and Gerry. She frowned at the boy. Ed stared at her.

She rubbed her eyes. She was so tired; she couldn't really be bothered with all this inevitable confrontation. She imagined Ed shaking Gerry's hand and giving him a few words of advice on how to handle Laurie now that he was the new registered owner. She imagined Gerry walking around her as she stood patiently. He kicked at the sides of her feet, pinched her waist and the fat of her cheek, nodding, but not wanting to seem too eager, so as to keep the price down.

She let out a giggle and both Gerry and Ed looked at her as if she was mad. Who was she kidding? Ed wouldn't have the first word of advice for anyone on anything – least of all on how to handle women, particularly Laurie.

‘‘Sit down Ed, have a cup of tea, please. And then we can …'' She stood up and made her way to the counter. She couldn't even work up the appropriate level of horror at this situation. Surely she should be panicking, trying to come up with a cover story or something. But she just couldn't be bothered. She turned and watched Gerry and Ed. Ed stood for a second and Gerry half rose and pointed to the seat opposite. Ed sat down and turned and waved the teenager over who sat down next to him. Gerry looked professionally polite as he started to speak to Ed. She was sure she could rely on Gerry not to make a scene. She should feel at the very least nervous in this situation, but she felt like she was beyond that. She actually felt as if she'd become untethered and was watching her life from above, calmly.

Ed half turned in his seat and spoke to the boy who was sitting looking down at his hands on the table. Gerry's face became grave and he stared at the boy. Laurie took a step towards the table to try and redirect things.

‘‘Yes? Can I get you something?''

Laurie turned back to the counter. It was someone different now, the shifts must have changed.

‘‘Em, yes. Three, no four, teas please.''

The woman poured four teas from the enormous metal teapot sitting on the stove behind her.

She placed the mugs on a tray.

‘‘There's milk and sugar on the table.'' She wiped her hands on a tea towel that hung over her shoulder. ‘‘Right hen, that'll be four pounds eighty.''

Laurie handed five pounds over and waited whilst the woman counted out the change in coppers.

She took the handful of coins from the woman who offered no word of apology for the shrapnel and then dropped the money on to the tray with the tea. She gave the woman a nod and walked back to the table. Gerry was looking pale and shaky again. She knew he must feel desperate to take a slug from his hip flask, but wouldn't feel able to in front of these two strangers. Ed was telling Gerry about his course and his youth work placement. Head down, the boy was drawing circles on the table top with a teaspoon.

Laurie put the tray down and pointed at the cups.

‘‘I got tea for,'' she nodded at the boy, ‘‘everybody.'' The boy looked at her; his face was pale and his skin was stretched looking. ‘‘Are you okay?'' she asked him.

He nodded, but didn't say anything.

Ed spoke. ‘‘There was an accident, a car accident.'' He looked at the boy and the boy looked at the table. ‘‘That's why I'm here.''

‘‘Why? Were you in an accident?'' She knew full well that he had not been. But she had an idea that the more Ed was forced to say, the less hellish the fight that was surely coming would be.

‘‘Well.'' He paused. ‘‘I received a phone call.''

Something about the way he said it piqued Laurie's interest. ‘‘From who?'' She asked.

Ed started to fiddle with his mobile phone, no doubt willing it to start ringing. And, unbelievably, it did. The look on Ed's face was not one Laurie had seen recently.

‘‘I need to take this,'' Ed said, standing up.

‘‘Of course you do,'' Laurie said.

Ed moved away to the front reception area talking rapidly on his phone.

Gerry was staring down at his tea morosely. She should say something to him, explain about Ed, she hadn't actually told him that she had a boyfriend. But he must have worked it out, mustn't he? He looked like he didn't much care anyway at this point.

Laurie studied the boy. He looked even worse than before. His dark hair curled damply at his forehead. He picked at the cuff of his hooded top. He glanced up at her and then Gerry, who was now gently sloshing his tea around the cup in a circular motion.

She reached out and touched the boy's forearm. ‘‘Are you okay?''

The boy breathed deeply and seemed to ready himself.

‘‘You have to help me,'' he whispered, leaning towards her.

‘‘What?'' She leaned towards him, alarmed. ‘‘What?''

The boy ducked down into his top as if he were hiding from someone.

Gerry glanced up, not quite following what was going on.

‘‘It's my family – if I go home now …'' He shook his head, looking down at the table and then back up towards Ed quickly. He spoke in a rush.

‘‘But surely they'll just be glad you're safe,'' she said.

He kept shaking his head.

‘‘You don't understand.'' He sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

Gerry was staring at the boy now.

‘‘What happened?'' Laurie asked.

He shrugged, still not looking up.

‘‘Come on, you can tell us.'' But why would he? He didn't know her or Gerry at all. They were nothing to him. But then, he had asked for help.

She touched his forearm again. He looked over at Ed who was still talking on the phone.

‘‘Look. There's … stuff, bad stuff, happening at home.'' The boy gulped.

Gerry and Laurie looked at each other, alarmed.

‘‘Well. Did you tell your, em, teacher or someone about it?''

‘‘Unlikely.'' The boy frowned at her.

‘‘Well?'' Laurie looked at Gerry, ‘‘Isn't that what you're supposed to do?'' She looked back at the boy who was staring at Gerry. ‘‘Tell a teacher? Or there's, you know, that phone thing – Childline?''

The boy actually laughed at her, suddenly looking much older.

He shook his head. ‘‘Forget it.''

‘‘No, no … but what can we do to help?'' She didn't want to fail this boy. It might be the most important thing she ever did. ‘‘What about Ed? Isn't he helping you?''

The boy stared hard at her. ‘‘He doesn't know what to do.'' He nodded at Ed. ‘‘Look at him. He's useless.''

All three turned to look at Ed. The boy was right of course.

‘‘What should we do? Gerry?'' She nudged Gerry sharply.

Ed was pacing up and down near the entrance to the wards. He was running his free hand through his hair making it stand up at an angle to his head. He must be talking to his boss or the boy's parent. Mind you, she wouldn't put it past Ed to be calling his own mother for a bit of guidance.

She turned to Gerry. ‘‘What do you think?''

Gerry had a slightly wild look to his eyes, but his jaw was firm.

‘‘I know what to do,'' said Gerry, standing quickly, galvanised into action. He startled Laurie and the boy. ‘‘Come on, we need to get going before he comes back.''

‘‘But Gerry, we can't just …'' Where was this coming from? He was acting like he was back in the army and they were recruits.

‘‘I don't see that we have an option.'' His voice was calmly authoritative. Laurie looked at the boy whose eyes were scanning Gerry's determined face. He began to rise from his seat.

‘‘Is this a good idea?'' How much had Gerry had to drink? ‘‘Wouldn't it be better to …'' But she didn't really have an alternative plan. If the boy was in danger …

Gerry's eyes were nearly bugging out. ‘‘Just follow me.'' Laurie hadn't seem his this intense before. ‘‘I know what I'm doing.''

‘‘What are you thinking Gerry?'' She put her hand up to touch him on the forearm. ‘‘You can't just go off with kids, teenagers.''

She looked at the boy hoping he would be getting a bit nervous but the boy had a look of satisfaction on his face. She looked at Ed who appeared to be listening to the person on the phone lecturing him. The boy was right – Ed would just do what he was told. He would take him home, deliver him back to whatever nightmare he lived in.

She looked at the boy again. He was acting tough like teenagers did, but underneath it, he must be frightened to even consider going off with complete strangers rather than go home. Maybe sometimes you had to take decisive action to avoid someone getting hurt. Maybe she could just go back to Gerry's with them and talk the boy into phoning Childline – get some sensible advice and then help Gerry to get his shit together.

Gerry gave one commanding nod at Laurie and strode off towards the exit behind the cafe. The boy and Laurie looked at each other. Gerry stopped and turned to them. He nodded his head grimly in the direction of the door.

Wordlessly, they followed him.

The boy kept pace with her as they followed Gerry across the car park towards the road. It was sleeting slightly and Laurie was very aware of the fact that the boy didn't have a coat on, just a hooded top.

‘‘Pull your hood up at least,'' she said to him.

He frowned at her and kept his hood down.

She shrugged. ‘‘It's up to you I suppose, but it's a bit of a walk to his flat.''

‘‘So what are you, like? His girlfriend or what?''

‘‘I dunno. Something like that.''

He nodded.

‘‘So have you been to his flat before then?''

She frowned. ‘‘Why?''

He shrugged. ‘‘No reason. Just asking.''

Gerry pushed on ahead. She didn't want to be stuck with this kid, this was Gerry's idea after all.

‘‘Gerry? Gerry! Hang on!'' Either he didn't hear her or he was ignoring her because he kept going, his head down into the sleet, leading the way.