Anywhere's Better Than Here (3 page)

They reached the end of her street having said nothing during the walk.

‘‘Well, here we are: Strathmore Crescent.'' The once grand tenements peered down at them. She could see the light from the PC in their bedroom. She ducked into the lane opposite her flat. Gerry hesitated for a moment but followed her in. The lane joined the crescent to another street but was rarely used and barely lit.

This seemed to be the correct course of action to take. Laurie felt much clearer headed and focused. She looked back at Gerry but the lack of street lights meant she could make out very little of his facial expression. All she could see was a rather grimly set jaw. Laurie pointed to a stone doorway leading to a drying area and stepped inside it. She leaned against the pillar, looking over Gerry's shoulder as he moved in closer to her. She could just make out the bay window of her bedroom.

What was Ed doing now?

As if she needed to ask.

He would, of course, be in front of a screen making pretend people move about in a pretend place killing each other and stealing cars.

She put her arms around Gerry's neck, but the angle was too steep for her and she dropped her arms to his waist. She rubbed her hand around his mid-back in small circular motions. Gerry seemed willing to follow Laurie's erratic lead. He stood still with his face slightly averted. She tucked her face into his jumper below his collar bone. The wool scratched her and she turned so that her cheek was in contact with the rough surface. They stood like this for a few minutes. Eventually Laurie forced herself to lift her head at an attempt at a kiss. He pulled away briefly and looked closely at her face. Then he wrestled her in and started to kiss her in earnest.

She couldn't get her breath but she felt as if she was in a film and was curiously detached from the action. Gerry had started to move his hands around her rib cage towards her breasts. His touch was too tentative for Laurie. She felt herself becoming impatient. This should be more of a passionate tussle, something exciting: a deal breaker.

She kissed Gerry back fiercely and pushed into him nudging him back against the wall. Perhaps a bite might bring on the feeling she was aiming for. She nipped Gerry on the lip.

‘‘Ow! What are you doing?'' He frowned at her. She looked up at her flat again. Gerry turned his head to follow her line of vision.

‘‘That's where I live. But I think I'm going to go away for a bit.''

‘‘Oh.'' They pulled away from each other. ‘‘Are you going tonight?''

‘‘I'm not sure.'' She shrugged. ‘‘Probably not.''

‘‘You might change your mind in the morning.''

‘‘Possibly, but I doubt it.''

‘‘Where will you go?''

She shrugged again. ‘‘Dunno. But the world's my oyster, isn't it?''

‘‘What if the world's not all it's cracked up to be?''

‘‘It's not like I'd be leaving paradise behind.'' She looked around herself. ‘‘Is it?''

‘‘I've seen worse.''

He looked like he meant it.

‘‘Come on,'' she said. ‘‘Sorry, I'm ruining the vibe.''

They walked to the mouth of the alley. Laurie looked up at the flat. She turned to Gerry.

‘‘I'd better get going. Thanks for tonight.''

‘‘It took my mind off things.'' He began to raise his hand but dropped it again to his side. He stood and waited as she crossed the road over to her front door.

She pressed the intercom, then looking over her shoulder, she watched Gerry walk back along the street. He disappeared and reappeared under the streetlights until he turned the corner and was gone.

Ed was still up when she walked back into the flat. Any residual feelings of tipsiness disappeared when she saw his thin shoulders in his faded grey t shirt as he stood at the window looking down at the street. He was like a gangly child from behind, right down to the superhero she knew graced the front of the shirt. Ed's hair desperately needed cut. It was sticking up on the crown of his head from the way he'd been sleeping. Whether it was last night's sleep or one of his day time naps, Laurie had no way of knowing. Ed's day was entirely his own, Laurie thought but, unusually, without the usual rancour. There was something endearingly pathetic about him as he stood there looking for her.

He turned back to the room, jumping when he realised she was there, watching him. He pulled his ear phones out of his ears and sat back on the window sill, trapping the stupid lace curtain under his skinny bum. Laurie tsked in annoyance as it came free from where she'd wedged it in behind the ancient curtain pole. The top corner flapped free. It would all fall down during the night. No doubt she'd have to climb up tomorrow and fix it again.

‘‘Where have you been?'' Ed was completely oblivious to Laurie's annoyance.

‘‘Out. Did you miss me?''

‘‘Where's the curry?''

‘‘The curry?'' Laurie repeated. He hadn't been waiting for her at all. Well, at least, not as anything other than a deliverer of food. ‘‘The curry's in the bloody hall. Where I left it.'' She threw her coat on the bed. ‘‘Why are you standing at the window Ed? What are you waiting for?''

‘‘Pizza. When you didn't come back I phoned for some. But I thought I'd order something different in case you came back with the curry.'' He smiled winningly at her.

When she had nothing to say but kept staring at him, Ed's smile faltered. ‘‘What's wrong? Don't you feel like pizza?''

‘‘No Ed, I really don't feel like pizza.'' As soon as she said it her stomach hurt with hunger. But there was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of asking for a slice. Annoyingly, she knew he'd gladly, unquestioningly, give her half, or more, of anything he had. The problem was that he had nothing of any value to Laurie. His needs were simple. He spent his dole money on take-aways and computer games. All he did was play games, watch TV and sleep. He always appeared to have just woken up, picking at the sleep in his eyes and scratching at himself. Luckily he was unable to grow a beard as shaving would be a real issue for him. She had a mental image of him with a rumplestiltskin beard and felt a giggle coming on.

‘‘Have we got any drink here?'' She should capitalise on this surge of good feeling.

‘‘What?'' Ed had moved back to the computer. ‘‘Oh forget it. Just forget it,'' she muttered.

No response.

‘‘For fuck's sake. Ed! What does it take for you to pay the slightest bit of attention to me?''

The script was so well worn and boring. She was like a cuckoo in a clock coming out at prearranged times always making the same noise. She realised Ed had put the headphones back in again. Would it be possible to strangle him with the cord, or would she have to work on her upper body strength first? God, who was she kidding? Ed would probably help her. He was so amenable as long as you weren't asking him to make something of himself.

She was still standing in the doorway. She looked around their living room. They'd finished university more than five years before but were still living like students. At least then they'd had a student social life. Now they were the only ones of their circle left in town.

The bedroom had piles of stuff everywhere. Clothes were heaped up at the end of the bed, next to the wardrobe, next to the chest of drawers. Magazines and papers were dumped on the bed amongst the unmade bed clothes. The most galling thing about all the crap was that it was Laurie's. She had no one but herself to blame. She knew this couldn't go on. Or rather, it could go on forever and ever, amen.

She took off her clothes and dumped them on the floor with all her other clothes from the week. She yanked the duvet back, flicking the bed-top detritus to the floor. She sighed loudly to no avail.

‘‘If you think you're going to carry on doing that while I'm trying to sleep, you've got another thing coming.'' Nothing. ‘‘Ed!''

‘‘U-huh?'' He pulled the ear buds out and turned to her.

‘‘You'd better go and wait for the pizza in the kitchen. Some of us have to get up for work in the morning.''

‘‘Okay. Good idea.''

She wondered sometimes if he was tone deaf. As in not being able to hear the tone in her voice. He patted her leg through the duvet as he walked past. She felt a bit bad about being nasty to him until she realised he was actually fishing around for his Gameboy which was somewhere within the covers. Ed left the room, neglecting to switch off the light. Laurie pulled the cover over her head and fell asleep thinking the same thing she always seemed to think when she fell asleep these days.

What fresh hell would tomorrow bring?

She woke up before the alarm went off and lay looking out of her side of the bed. From there she had a view of the bedroom doorway which was open on to the hall. She could see both the bathroom and part of the living-room through the door frame. Ed was already up. Anybody would think he had a job to go to. He would be making her a cup of tea and a slice of toast. This was the only thing Ed did for her and even this he managed to cock up. The tea was always much too weak and the toast not toasted enough. She was constantly turning the dial on the toaster up a bit, but to no avail. Ed had seen something on TV about the carbon in burnt toast causing cancer and now he wouldn't let Laurie eat it the way she liked it.

He came into her field of vision, carrying the tray carefully in front of himself. He kept looking down at the tray, his mouth slightly open. Despite the fact she was staring at him, he didn't look up at her until he'd set the tray down securely on the bed in front of her.

‘‘There we go.''

She looked down at the tray. One piece of bleached toast slathered in margarine. One cup of piss weak tea. She knew he meant well and she knew that she should appreciate his efforts. She smiled at him, wondering when he'd last seen her genuine smile. In fact, when was the last time she'd smiled genuinely at all? Last night didn't count, of course. It was if she'd veered off her approved script and started being a different character.

He sat and watched her eating as he did every morning. She looked up at him.

‘‘What is it?''

‘‘Nothing Ed. I was just wondering what you were doing today.''

‘‘Oh. The usual.'' He stood up from the bed and started to pick up clothes from the floor. He gathered together a pile's worth and dumped them by the door.

‘‘Not those.'' She stood up and pulled a couple of things from the pile. ‘‘I need those for work.'' She shook out her trousers and cardigan. Now she'd have to try and find some clean knickers.

‘‘Perhaps you'd like to fit a visit to the laundrette into your busy schedule.''

‘‘Maybe,'' he sighed, sitting down at the computer. ‘‘I still have enough clothes left for a while though.''

She knew she'd end up wearing her emergency pants to work and that she'd be spending time tonight washing stuff in the sink and then part drying things with the hair dryer.

‘‘Well, as long as you're okay for a while.''

He ignored her. She walked into the bathroom and gave herself a cat's lick. She was clean enough. She pulled her clothes on, stuck her hair in a pony-tail and opened her make up bag. What she saw in the mirror depressed her even further. She was getting older; there was no doubt about it. She rubbed foundation into her face and attempted to make herself look healthy with blusher and mascara. The trouble was, she was so pale in the winter that it was hard to look okay without looking like a dolly. She tried to blend her blusher in to make it look natural, but she knew she looked daft. She wet a bit of toilet paper and scrubbed at her cheeks. Slightly better, but now she looked a bit consumptive.

She couldn't be bothered to brush her teeth. She also couldn't be bothered saying good bye to Ed. She picked her handbag up from the hall and left the flat, deliberately slamming the door behind her.

She made it to the bus stop just in time. There were several other people waiting. All of them were listening to headphones and ignoring everyone else. She fished around in her bag for her bus pass as she boarded. There were still a few seats free at the back. She slid across into one and was immediately joined by an angry looking middle-aged woman who glared at her whilst taking up more than her half of the seat. Laurie moved over as far as she could and stared into the hair of the passenger sitting in front of her.

Suddenly it occurred to her. She could get off the bus at any time – anywhere she liked. She need not finish the journey. Or at least not finish her original, planned journey. A surge of excitement rushed through her. She stood up, glancing her hand over the man's hair and pushing past the surly woman. Both people turned and looked at her and she smiled calmly.

‘‘This is my stop,'' she explained loudly to everyone on the bus. At the exact moment she reached the door, the bus stopped. Feeling like a movie star, she stepped gracefully down from the bus. She turned to the bus as it pulled away from the kerb and performed a pretty little bow to the blank, uninterested passengers.

It was easier than she would have imagined, wasting the day while pretending to be at work. She'd walked around the streets until lunchtime, sipping from her warm coke bottle and peering in people's windows. Nobody seemed to be at home in the nice Victorian semis that she floated past. Where were the housewives and small children? Did everyone work now or attend an organised day time activity? At first she felt like an apocalypse survivor, searching for another human. She felt empty and calm and knew it wouldn't be too awful if she was on her own. Then her own voice started to annoy her, counting her steps and commenting on things and she started to see the value in other people being around.