Authors: Matthew Formby
Tracy exchanged looks with another officer and the two went out of sight.
"I'll stay here with you," said the remaining officer. "My name's Dan. You've got yourself into quite a mess, Luke."
He heard the other two speaking about him around the corner. The male officer whose name remained unknown to him said, "I think he's just pretending to have Asperger's syndrome. It's an excuse. He's not like people who really have Asperger's syndrome. I've met them and seen programmes about it."
Different officers came and went. Luke was a celebrity. He spoke of his devotion to Jolly who would probably never love him back. Every female officer on duty came to hear, intrigued by this unusual inmate. "If she rejects me," he told one of them, "I'll feel like killing myself. I'd do anything for her, die for her. If she says no to me, she is the only pure thing in this horrible world, and I would feel like going to her office, cutting my wrists and dying on her doorstep." The officers largely misunderstood what Luke said, taking it literally. They perceived him to be a threat to Jolly. As police officers they came into contact with dangerous people daily and tended to assume the worst - it was a necessary evil sometimes in investigating suspects. That someone could bang his head on walls and drank heavily to them indicated he was a danger. Many of the serious offenders they arrested, guilty of murder or brutal beatings had drank alcohol and they deemed anyone who self-harmed as lacking the mental awareness to make rational decisions. So poor Luke was thrown into a box into where they thought he belonged in their filing system. They did not the intelligence to understand how to differentiate between a socially naive man like Luke who spoke exaggerations due to his substance misuse and a hardened, wicked criminal. To see something ugly in something innocent was their sin and they committed it in haste.
The officers having drawn their conclusions, made their notes and the following morning after letting Luke go, phoned Jolly to warn her.
XXXVII
Luke's breath stank the following morning. He followed his usual cleaning routine. To begin with he filled a glass with water, then added sea salt from a grinder, before brushing his teeth using an electric toothbrush with tap water alone; and finally he rinsed his mouth with the salted water using it as a mouthwash. All this combined to give him a fresh, renewed sheen. Luke had struggled to find the willpower to wash himself this morning. It was fixed boldly in his mind he must ring Jolly. Before the police could speak to her, he should. They could tell her lies like they did about the Hillsborough disaster or even simply miscommunicate as in a game of Chinese whispers. Dread and anguish enveloped him and he feared the worst.
When he rang he heard a discordant tone droning - it was a dead line. Then silence. He could not believe it. Was this it? Had be already had his fate determined? He called again and was forward to an answering machine. He could not wait any longer, and he decided after Jolly's recorded message had finished he would speak now or forever hold his peace.
"Hi, it's Luke. I don't seem to be able to get hold of you... so I'm leaving a message. I need you to know something I've been wanting to say but don't know how. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known. The sound of your voice instantly lifts my day. I think about you all the time. Just so there's nothing left unsaid, so we know where things stand, I want you to know I'm interested in you. I'd like to be with you. There's probably no chance you'd want to be with me. I mean, why would you? But I want you to know how I feel; just so there are no misunderstandings."
His voice faltered. He could barely hold the phone. Luke had never felt so nervous.
"I love you," he finished. He ended the call. That phrase had never so easily rolled off his tongue. It amazed himself that after years of feeling only periodic infatuations with women he had no doubt he really loved Jolly. In spite of the wrenching feeling in his gut at what might happen next, it provided him with comfort to know he had said those words; in former unhappy relationships he had procrastinated and usually said them only with regret or never at all.
Luke was so anxious for the next few hours and pacing his home so much, he developed a cavernous hunger. He made the short journey to the bus stop near his home, wincing at the sight of the strangers outside, carrying on with their lives regardless of his tragedy and obliviously unaware. In waiting for the bus, Luke had to watch for its approach in the direction of Duldrum. He frowned as the sky weighed heavily on his eyes. Presently, turning around toward the direction of Woecaster his face instantly brightened; then resumed its gloomy repose as he resumed his reconnaissance.
At length an old man appeared in the distance, slowly walking in Luke's direction. Should he smile? He mulled it over - and being ignorant of the social code most people followed he did not know whether acknowledging the man or feigning indifference was the correct rule to follow. When or how long to make eye contact baffled him. He would stare down for a few seconds, shift his body a little then look up towards the man to reassure him he was not being snubbed. He weighed up shouting out a greeting, a joke or a comment on the weather; but he did not know which if any the man would want to hear. On past occasions, attempts had fallen flat in any of the above options, most likely because of Luke's flat effect in his delivery which people could mistake for insincerity or detachment.
Thankfully, the man eventually passed and after a few more awkward passings by from some joggers, young families and dog walkers the bus to Woecaster arrived. Luke hoped he had not offended anyone too much. It could feel in the heat of the moment that lacking confidence was a cardinal sin. If only he had been able to persuade that American professor to give him ecstasy, then perhaps he could have somehow winged these situations. Some people had a natural knack for coming across well but he did not. It occurred to him he may in fact be detached; and he began to loathe himself. He could appreciate if that was true why Jolly might have despised him - but what was he do if nature had created him that way?
The weather was warm and mildly windy when Luke arrived in Woecaster. His first port of call was to find somewhere to eat. There he might, if lucky, find shelter from his sentimental storm. As he made a circuit of the city, security guards in black appeared to leer viciously at him - do they always hone in on people when they're vulnerable, wondered Luke. Probably so - more often than not they were despicably cynical folk. Though he was often unhappy with the behaviour of the police, he could imagine far worse people carrying out their investigative and order keeping roles: private security guards. Some said that was the future, perish the thought.
There were so many tempting eateries and yet Luke could not resolve which one to dine in. He had to counter their advertisements by way of menus, pictures and smells offering a preview of the menu with an inconvenient truth: microwaves were commonly used in restaurants. So too were pre-cooked meals ordered from catering companies. He knew of these trends from TV shows like Rogue Traders that exposed the trade secrets of the restaurant industry. Some of the most attractive restaurants were the ones which Luke passed most eagerly, suspecting their large menus were a clue the food could not possibly be fresh. Of course, there were exceptions - but he was not going to spend ten pounds or more on what might be daylight robbery.
British high streets had become so tedious to Luke and he was not alone. Their identikit fish and chip shops, kebab takeaways, sandwich parlours and purveyors of pies were depressing. Luke actually had a soft spot for fish and chips but so few cooked them the traditional way any longer and taste was cardinal in such a simple, hearty meal. Besides these staunch bastions of nourishment, few establishments made food daily on the premises, as opposed to reheating frozen and refrigerated fare. A further disincentive to Luke in entering many a place was when he would make a cursory glance to check out the staff. He was wary of rudeness after having had awkward silences with servers at counters too many times; often burly men uneducated in manners, most unsuited to their occupation - the kind who made the waiting time a sentence to be served.
It was times like these that Luke wished he could be female. He had noticed women got preferential treatment when dining out. Having a lady inside your venue was as good as a billboard declaring proudly: "We Are Part Of The Status Quo". Women attracted most customers, other women as females regarded each others' opinions as important and men due to the impulse of attraction. The same was not true of men. Having them in your restaurant did not attract women and besides women were simply more charming company, what with their softer features and rounded personalities unhinged by the masculine need to prove oneself; the staff on a personal level would prefer spending time with them.
All Luke wanted was a little restaurant that offered as few as two to five fresh choices on the menu. It was impossible but he did try to find such a place in Woecaster. There were poky, cheap outlets that sold curries, rice and kebabs but Luke could not stomach the taste of kebabs and he been immensely disappointed when staff in many of those restaurants had rejected his reasonable request to have chips instead of rice with a meal. If he was on his specific carbohydrate diet he might even like a curry on its own - it was out of the question to these upstanding members of the community. Traditions came first - and here Luke did begin to understand how multiculturalism could upset people. It was fair enough to have diversity; but when that diversity denied an individual's needs, even when it was merely chips in the place of rice and the chips were clearly available on the menu, where was the good in that? Luke was sympathetic towards small businesses. They struggled against the likes of the big chains. But he could understand now why so many went bust with the attitudes they had.
He resigned himself to his fate for the moment, believing it unlikely he would find any food truly worth its selling price or made with unprocessed ingredients. He settled for a soup at a little cafe and he crossed his fingers but it was, after he ordered, naturally, taken out of the fridge beneath the counter and placed in a microwave.
XXXVIII
Two days passed and Luke did not hear back from Jolly, he did not know if she had heard his call. He had to know she had. Otherwise she would be deprived the opportunity to decide whether she loved him as well. He wrote her a letter and enclosed within a DVD of the best episodes of series one and two of Lawson's Creek. He signed the letter with the anonymous pen-name Beanstalk Climber, a reference to the fairytale of Jack and the Giant Beanstalk. This he did because he suspected a government organisation like the Health Service Ombudsman would monitor all incoming mail and possibly divert it from Jolly if they knew he had sent it.
It was with regret not until a year had passed that Luke realized how scary it might have seemed for Jolly to receive a letter from such a pen name In hindsight, he admitted it could have been misconstrued as something more sinister than he had intended. When Luke was re-watching his Lawson's Creek collection he came up to one of the episodes that had been bundled in the DVD he had sent to Jolly. It was one in which Lawson and friends held a seance party and were trying to scare each other. A serial killer featured in the episode too who stalked his victims by writing anonymous letters and phone calls before killing them. What a tragic coincidence - and how stupid Luke felt for only noticing its likeness so long after the event!
Yet love blinds a person and Luke had not thought the matter through. Looking back, it could have appeared like a coded message to Jolly. The potential for misunderstandings between a man and a woman are too vast to write about; and in our modern age of digital media, an intrusive police state and bureaucracy and hyper-vigilant political correctness it only seems to get worse than it ever has. After Luke had posted his letter he wandered like a lost puppy and stopped near a vagrant.
Luke often donated money to homeless people. No matter how many times the local newspaper or council release statements telling people not to, he still did. He did not trust people in authority: why should he? They had never been honest with him. In their press releases, some organisations would claim that giving to homeless people funded drug addictions. In Luke's opinion that was dehumanising those living on the streets and of no fixed address. While drugs were problematic, it was not fair to pick on the most vulnerable people involved in the sorry spectacle; many others who were less visible played a more important part. Had drugs were legal, all the people living on the streets could easily have been housed as they would not need to fear losing their tenancies. They could have been able to engage in their lifestyle without associating with criminals which was where the main problem lied.
Luke believed most homeless people would give up drugs when the time was right anyway. Everybody moved at their own pace, there was no need to deny people their chances. When Luke talked to homeless people their backgrounds tended to be depressingly predictable: most had grown up in care or served in the army. Luke came to believe local authority care was the most self-defeating and pointless system devised in all man's history. He could very much see the case for foster carers and adoption were it done sensitively - and most of all if it was done in a way that took into account the views of the children being placed - yet when children were put into care homes it was obvious neglect and abuse were going to happen behind those closed doors; there was little doubt about it anymore as it was regularly reported in the news. Often children were housed in care homes far from their families in areas they did not know - and even worse, many homes to save money were in bad neighbourhoods. The abuse might take place from a staff member who could rape, physically assault or financially blackmail a child or it could happen, naturally, among the children themselves. In a building full of stigmatised people who felt abandoned, where educational and career opportunities were greatly diminished compared to most people's it was not surprising there could be a lot of bullying. Families adopting children and treating them as individuals was clearly better.