Anywhere's Better Than Here (8 page)

‘‘This is very civilised,'' she said. A tray sat on the table with the milk jug, the teapot and a sugar bowl with sugar cubes in it. Marie and Pat were drinking from cups and saucers.

Marie beamed.

‘‘Everyone has their own cup, you can use one of the day shift cups until you bring your own in, if you like.'' Humming to herself, she rinsed the yellow cup under the tap and gave it a wipe with a tea towel. ‘‘Would you like tea or coffee?''

‘‘Tea please,'' said Laurie smiling up at Marie who stood slightly stooped over her as if she was working in a care home and Laurie was some old dear sitting in a wing chair.

Marie poured slowly and carefully. Pat and Margaret watched her. Laurie did too, feeling soothed by Marie's graceful movements. She lifted the milk jug and looked at Laurie. Laurie nodded and in went a stream of white.

‘‘Sugar?''

‘‘No thanks.'' Laurie almost wished she did take sugar so she could hear the plink of the cubes into the cup.

Marie handed over the cup to Laurie, a look of anxiety and pride mingled on her shiny face.

Laurie took a sip.

‘‘Perfect.''

Marie beamed again. Laurie could tell that this tea tray and the cups and saucers had been Marie's idea. Laurie wondered what Marie's life was like outside work. Did she keep a perfect house full of china and doilies? She seemed too young to care about those sorts of things. But it must be nice to live in a proper, organised house where there was a way of doing things and a routine for times like dinner and breakfast. She'd like to live in a house with a milk jug and a tea tray and a biscuit tin.

Marie was still watching her as she drank down the rest of her tea.

‘‘So Laurie, tell us about yourself.'' Marie leaned her chin on her hands.

‘‘Oh, there's not much to tell really.''

Undeterred, Marie pressed on. ‘‘Well, what were you doing before you came here? You must have been doing something.''

‘‘Em … I was at University and then I worked at BT sorting out people's bills, that sort of thing.''

‘‘Really?'' said Marie. ‘‘That must have been interesting, eh?'' She looked round at the two older women who nodded at Laurie.

‘‘It wasn't really interesting at all,'' said Laurie. ‘‘I hated it actually.''

‘‘You hated university?'' Marie looked disbelieving. ‘‘I always thought it would be dead interesting.''

‘‘University was okay. But quite …'' she couldn't find the word to describe it. It hadn't lived up to her expectations. She thought it was going to be exciting and full of amazing switched-on people who'd travelled and had fascinating stories to tell. But most people just wanted to get wasted and compare drug stories. ‘‘Quite … anti-climactic really.''

‘‘Oh,'' said Marie. ‘‘And now you're here.'' She waved a hand shyly about her.

Laurie made an effort to smile. She didn't want them to think she thought she was better than them. ‘‘Yes. And so far I really like it.''

‘‘Good,'' said Pat. ‘‘Nothing like a bit of hard work to take you out of yourself. Is there?''

‘‘And have you got a boyfriend, Laurie?'' asked Marie, a slight pinkness in her cheeks.

‘‘I do, yes.''

The women nodded, wanting her to go on.

‘‘He's called Ed. We've been together for a couple of years.''

The women nodded again.

‘‘He's about to go back to college and do Community Education.''

‘‘So is he not working at the moment then?'' asked Margaret.

‘‘No, but he said he'll probably look for a part time job now.'' Laurie certainly hoped so.

‘‘He should see if they need anyone in the kitchen here. They're always looking for kitchen porters. My wee brother used to work there, before he …'' her voice trailed off and Pat took over.

‘‘Good idea, Marie.''

‘‘Oh, I don't know if I'd want him to work here too.''

‘‘Why not? You'd never see him. Unless of course you're trying to keep a secret fella from him!'' Pat was just joking of course, but Laurie felt herself blushing immediately. Pat laughed. ‘‘Oh Laurie, have I hit a nerve? What's the story? Got a fancy man?''

Laurie looked down at her hands.

‘‘Oh God, Laurie, I'm only joking! Don't cry.''

And Laurie realised that she was indeed crying. Big fat tears pouring out of her eyes.

Marie came over and crouched next to her and patted her arm. ‘‘Let it out Laurie, let it out,'' she crooned, patting and patting. Laurie had to make a great effort not to get off her chair and lie down on the floor, she was suddenly so tired.

This went on for a few minutes until Laurie got hold of herself and stopped crying. Pat leaned across with a box of tissues.

‘‘What's wrong Laurie?'' she asked. She held the box steady while Laurie pulled a handful of tissues out.

Laurie dabbed at her face thinking about whether to tell them. She might as well, it wasn't as if they knew her.

‘‘I don't know what I'm doing.'' She took a bite of the biscuit she was holding and spoke with her mouth full, pushing the biscuit to one side of her mouth with her tongue. ‘‘I've met this guy and I'm still living with Ed.''

Marie looked shocked. ‘‘What about Ed?'' She looked like she might cry now.

Laurie swallowed dryly and glugged back the rest of her tea. ‘‘I don't know. Nothing's really happened with Gerry. I don't know if I even really like him like that, y' know?''

Marie looked at her mutely. The older women nodded their heads.

‘‘Oh, I know,'' said Pat. ‘‘I used to go with a lad, Peter, before I got married. My mum liked him and so did my dad. Everybody else liked him more than me. I remember saying to my mum, ‘‘you go out with him then,'' but you can't stay with someone just because he's nice, can you? Anyway, I met my Frank after that and,'' she opened her hands out in front of her and shrugged, ‘‘that was that.'' She didn't look too pleased with the outcome. Maybe she should have stayed with Peter.

Margaret smiled sympathetically at Laurie. ‘‘Just you do what's right for you, Hen. But think carefully before you make any hasty decisions.''

It was at times like this that she thought of her mother. Not that her mother would have had anything useful to add and she probably wouldn't even entertain a conversation of this nature, but still, it would be nice to think you could feasibly phone your mother and that she could, feasibly, change.

‘‘Anyway, Ladies,'' Pat stood up. ‘‘Back to the grind.''

Laurie stood up too and, after being patted on the arm by Margaret and hastily hugged by Marie, she collected her cart and went back to mopping floors.

She stood outside the station door. The red light was on and she hesitated before she turned the handle. Gerry had said he was glad she was coming to see him, but she still felt nervous about this. She knew it was pushing things along: soon she'd have gone too far to write things off as a bit of fun and non-cheating. She wouldn't have been happy if Ed had kissed someone else. But surely as you got older it took more than a kiss to qualify as an affair? When the range of actions grew, surely the bar was raised accordingly? But she knew that this line of thought was a smokescreen, a rationalisation to make herself feel better. What she was doing was wrong, but she couldn't help it, it would take someone coming along to actually physically move her to prevent her from going in to Gerry.

She smiled. She never would have thought a few days ago that this would be happening.

Gerry was so different, so much older, than anyone she'd been with before. His being older had to be a good thing – he knew more, he'd been around the block. That was what she needed – a grown up to show her the way in. Gerry had things on his mind, that much was obvious to Laurie. He was funny and quite charming, but he looked a bit removed to Laurie. Possibly that was one of the things that appealed to her. With Ed, she could push and push him and he'd take it. Gerry, she knew, would have much less tolerance for that sort of thing. She wondered what would make Gerry lose his cool. She tried to picture him losing his temper, but couldn't force an image into her mind. She thought he was more likely to walk out and keep walking. But that wasn't something to think about now.

Now was the time to think about jumping in, being brave, seeing what happened and to hell with the consequences. She turned the handle and opened the station door. Gerry was sitting side on with his headphones on, staring into space. He turned slowly towards her and his face opened up into a broad smile. He pulled the headphones off and stood up.

‘‘Hi Laurie. Sorry, I was miles away.'' He pointed at the headphones.

They took a step towards each other, shy again, but only momentarily. Then they grabbed at each other, Gerry crushing her against him and kissed messily, toothily for a few minutes. Then Laurie was blushing, but felt like running around and yelling. Gerry pushed his hand through his hair, picked up the headphones and held them against his ear for a second and then dropped them again. They hung from the lead, almost reaching the floor.

‘‘The music's stopped.'' He stared down at the headphones and laughed. ‘‘And guess what?''

‘‘What?'' Laughed Laurie.

‘‘I don't care! Let's go to the pub.'' He grabbed his coat and bag.

‘‘What about your shift? What about your listeners?'' She was quite shocked by his giddiness. She thought all this meant a lot to him.

‘‘Yeah. You're right.'' Gerry looked chastened. He glanced up at the clock. ‘‘I've only got about twenty minutes left. I could put on an album until the next shift.'' He raised his eyebrows at her, looking for permission.

‘‘Yeah, yeah. Good idea.'' She stepped over to the pile of CDs he'd left by the machine. ‘‘Radiohead?''

He shook his head. She rifled thought the pile. She didn't recognise a lot of the bands.

‘‘Bruce Springsteen?'' He shook his head again.

‘‘The Who? The Stranglers? Muse?'' Three shakes of the head.

‘‘No, no. Nothing's right. It has to be something …'' He trailed off and started fishing through his bag. ‘‘I know, a classical compilation.'' He put it in the CD player. ‘‘Music from the Movies – perfect.''

He put his coat on and picked up his bag.

‘‘Right, you ready?''

‘‘Yes. But I'm choosing the pub this time. Not that skanky old guys' place.''

‘‘What's wrong with it?'' He looked hurt.

‘‘It's full of old men and that Mags woman gives me the creeps.''

‘‘Okay. It'll be closed anyway. Do you know somewhere with a late license? Nowhere trendy. I don't want cocktails. I want a cheap pint.''

‘‘Not a problem.''

Laurie lay motionless as Ed rooted around in the bedroom. God, what time had she come in? It felt like she'd only been asleep for minutes. She couldn't face speaking to Ed. Something had been decided, she felt. She listened to him walking through to the kitchen and picking up the phone. There was only one person he could possibly be calling at this time.

‘‘Hello, it's me, Edward.''

He was her only child and yet every time he called her, he still felt the need to identify himself. Laurie shook her head.

‘‘I thought I might come and visit you.'' His voice caught on
might
. ‘‘Today. Now actually.'' She could hear him throw his rucksack on to his shoulder. ‘‘I'm leaving the flat now.''

Laurie held her breath until Ed spoke again.

‘‘No, it's just me.''

It was obvious that Sandy was asking Ed questions.

‘‘It's okay mum, I know. Listen …'' he paused. ‘‘Is it okay if I stay for a couple of nights?''

He said this more quietly and Laurie wrapped the quilt around her head so that he wouldn't hear her crying and come back.

By mid morning, things looked better. It was one of those sharp sunny days that happen in December. Super cold, but sparkly, making her feel metallic and invincible. After Ed had left and she'd showered, she started to feel better. And now, with her hair still damp, she took a good lung full of air and began to walk into town. The streets were deserted and Laurie felt as if she had the world to herself. Without the camouflage of other people around Laurie looked at everything afresh, as if she'd been away somewhere. It was a revelation to see how shops had opened and closed, bus stops had appeared, graffiti had been graffitied over.

She paused to look at the wall by the bus station. It used to have an image of a busty manga-type girl holding a gun. Now someone had drawn on what was either a mask and cape or a badly drawn burqa. The gun had been painted over with a massive book and the words, ‘‘change is coming'' was written in capitals on the book's cover. Laurie chose to take it as a good sign and went and sat down on a bench in the stance. The time on the information screen read 8.37.

The only other people around were an old couple sitting on a bench directly underneath an electric bar fire that hung from the roof. They were reading separate copies of the Sunday Post. Laurie moved to the bench across from them.

The couple were both wearing massive fleecy jackets, each decorated with a print of a husky or a wolf or something. Laurie couldn't tell exactly what it was. Some sort of big dog anyway. Hers was shades of beige and his was shades of grey. They had big home knit hats on as well and, although they looked fairly silly, they also looked really warm and Laurie regretted her choice of jacket but no jumper over her shirt. She pushed her hands into her pockets and shuffled down into the neck of her coat.