Anywhere's Better Than Here (10 page)

‘‘Dunno.'' Ed sounded hopeless.

Laurie glanced over at him. He was hunched over on the bed, his rucksack torn open beside him with his neatly ironed clothes teetering over. She wanted to go over and stuff them back in so they didn't come into contact with the manky bedclothes. She could just picture Ed's mum standing sorting and ironing in front of the telly, wishing Ed had a decent girlfriend who'd do the laundry instead. No, actually, she'd be loving that Ed had gone back home and probably begged him to stay for good. Back in his old room, under his old grunge posters, under his old red and black striped duvet, under his mummy's roof.

Looking at Ed now, Laurie couldn't work out why he'd come back. He looked as if he'd been crying. If he had been half as evasive as she'd been, she would have gone straight off, not go home for a few days and then walk back in, tail between the legs. She realised she was staring at him and turned to the street again. Why couldn't she just say something?

Ed cleared his throat. ‘‘What do you want to do about Christmas? Are you going home?''

She looked back at him again and considered for a moment. Home? Where was that these days? What did she want to do?

‘‘I don't know. I've been asked to work on Christmas Eve and Christmas night.''

‘‘Oh well then,'' said Ed into his lap.

‘‘But I haven't decided yet. I mean, the money's good. But, I dunno, it would be weird working then.''

When they had asked her, she had assumed Ed would be at his mum's and had thought it might be a sensible thing to try and treat Christmas as if it was any other day. She knew at this time of the year she should feel more upset than she did, but really, she didn't much care. It would maybe be different if her dad phoned her, or if she went over there to visit more often. But she didn't see the point these days.

‘‘Maybe before I go to work we could have something to eat, or something …''

She trailed off and turned back to the woodchip, gouging at the plaster underneath. A lump of it came away and some stuck underneath her thumb nail. She picked it out, still staring out of the window.

Now was the time to be honest, tell him about Gerry, or at least break off with him.

But she just couldn't do it. For the first time in her life she felt guilty. Properly, head down, eye-fillingly guilty. Ed had never done anything to her. It wasn't his fault. She should just keep things going until after Christmas. He would be into his course by then and things wouldn't seem too hopeless to him. He'd meet people at college and realise that there were other, more appropriate girls available to him. Girls who would like him and not mither him to be someone different.

She looked over at him and he raised his head to give her a brave little smile.

‘‘So. What have you been up to while I've been away?''

He stared into her eyes. She forced a smile.

‘‘Working, mostly. I got a job at the hospital on the night shift cleaning.'' She looked down, waiting for Ed's reaction. He didn't say anything.

‘‘It's quite a change doing night shift. Messes up your sleep patterns.''

He sighed then stood up and began to put his stuff into his drawers.

‘‘What about you? What did you do at your mum's?'' She moved closer and hovered behind him.

‘‘Well, I've started my placement.''

‘‘Really? So soon? What about police checks and things?''

‘‘Luckily mum had already arranged for the college to send off for a police check.''

‘‘That was good of her,'' said Laurie, trying not to sound sarcastic. ‘‘So where's your placement?''

‘‘It's at a youth club place in the City Centre. I'm going to be doing after school sessions. Four to ten. You just chat to them, play on the PSP and that sort of thing. I'm back again today.''

Bloody typical. There she was, slogging her guts out in the middle of the night cleaning up body fluids and bloody Ed was going to get a job where he'd get paid to play fucking computer games. Stupid, pointless games where the aim was to kill people. For fuck's sake.

She watched Ed bobbing down to tuck his folded T shirts into his bottom drawer and thought about kicking him, but then remembered Gerry again.

She sat down on the edge of the bed.

‘‘Do you like it then?''

‘‘Oh yeah.'' He beamed at her. ‘‘It's like, for the first time, I feel like I'm doing something pretty important.'' He coloured and she looked away. Get him. ‘‘Anyway, I'd better get a shift on. I start in a couple of hours and I need to go in to college for a meeting.'' He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘‘Is that alright?''

‘‘Obviously.'' She tried not to sound to eager to get shot of him. She was going to see Gerry before her shift.

‘‘Laurie?'' Ed turned to where she was sitting on the bed and raised a hand in her direction as if he might touch her. She stiffened.

He didn't say anything else. Laurie waited for a moment, raising her eyebrows to urge him on.

‘‘What?''

He sniffed and shrugged.

‘‘Nothing.''

‘‘Are you sure?'' It would be easier if he said something. She smiled encouragingly.

He shook his head.

She looked at her watch. ‘‘I'd better get ready too.'' She hesitated. ‘‘I'm meeting a friend before my shift.'' She could feel her face burning. It was on the tip of her tongue. She just wanted to shout it at him. But it was as if her face had locked up all of a sudden.

‘‘Well,'' he said, standing up and taking a deep breath. ‘‘You'd better prepare yourself then.''

He walked out of the room.

Laurie lay back on the bed.

This time Laurie had chosen the cafe. She sat with her back to the wall waiting for Gerry to arrive, glancing around at the place. It was trying hard to be European. She watched the customers with their cappuccinos and lattes and wondered when Scotland had bought into the whole cafe culture thing. When she was growing up there were just pubs and normal cafes. If people were ordering a hot non-alcoholic drink it was either tea or coffee. No speciality fruit teas or extra shots or any such nonsense. Now it seemed that everyone had a coffee fetish. She sipped her drink. It was very strong and she'd deliberately asked for it black. She felt she needed to keep her wits about her. The situation with Gerry was developing a momentum of its own.

He appeared at the window and she raised a hand to wave at him, but he didn't see her. She moved her coat from the other seat at the table and swept a couple of crumbs off the table top, all the while keeping her eyes on him. He was standing outside looking up at the sky and he seemed to be taking a few deep breaths. After a minute, he stepped up to the door and opened it. She thought to call out to him but wanted to see the expression on his face when he saw her. Maybe that would tell her what to do. He stood for a second and scanned the busy cafe then his eyes stopped on Laurie. He looked at her then smiled. She stood up and pushed her chair out from the table as Gerry walked over and took off his coat, dumping it on a chair.

They stood facing each other smiling. Laurie felt her heart speed up as she imagined touching him. Gerry broke his gaze and cleared his throat.

‘‘Latte? Cappuccino? Espresso?'' Laurie asked him.

‘‘Tea, I think.'' He grabbed his coat off the seat and sat down, bundling the coat into a wad on his knee.

Gerry smiled up at the waitress who was walking past.

‘‘Excuse me, could I have a tea please?''

The waitress ignored him and carried on walking.

Gerry sighed.

‘‘She'll be back in a minute.''

‘‘But that's not the point though is it? People have jobs to do and they should just do them.'' He frowned at Laurie.

‘‘Look. It's just a cup of tea. We'll get her when she comes back.''

Gerry sniffed. ‘‘Sorry. I just hate it when people don't do what they're supposed to do.''

‘‘I suppose it's that military training,'' Laurie said. ‘‘You're used to people doing what you want them to do, eh?'' She laughed. ‘‘And if they don't, you can always shoot them!'' She considered for a moment. ‘‘That would be handy. Having that in reserve.'' Gerry shook his head. ‘‘Not quite,'' he said.

The waitress appeared again. She was holding a cup of tea which she placed in front of Laurie.

As the girl walked away, Laurie reached across and laid her hand on his forearm.

‘‘She's probably foreign, you know. Maybe she isn't confident speaking English.''

‘‘Maybe,'' said Gerry. He slid the mug towards him.

Laurie took a long drink of her coffee.

‘‘What are you doing for Christmas?'' she asked and then looked down immediately into her cup. Her face was bright red.

‘‘Oh, I don't really do anything for Christmas. I'll probably cover someone else's shifts on Christmas night.''

‘‘That's nice of you,'' said Laurie. That was that then. No romantic Christmas day for them. She hadn't even realised that she'd been thinking that might happen.

‘‘What I'd really like to do is stay in bed and sleep all day.'' He sighed. ‘‘But I'd probably get no peace from Theresa downstairs.''

Laurie could just imagine her with a Mrs Santa Negligee on, standing guard at his door with a bunch of mistletoe, singing dirty versions of Christmas songs to him through the letter box. She shuddered. What was worse was that she could see Gerry opening the door and letting her in.

‘‘What are you doing?''

Gerry looked closely at Laurie's face. She shrugged.

‘‘Aren't you seeing your family?''

‘‘Not likely.''

‘‘Really? Don't you get on with them?''

‘‘No.'' She paused and licked the side of her coffee cup. ‘‘Not now.''

Laurie looked at the other people in the cafe. The place was emptying out a little. The waitress walked past their table again and Gerry caught her eye, smiling. She nodded brusquely and walked on.

‘‘How about something to eat?'' Gerry asked. ‘‘Are you hungry? What about a sandwich or a cake?''

‘‘God! You're like a mother hen!''

She took the menu out of his hands and looked at is for a second, then she covered her eyes with her hands, leaned her elbows on the table and started to cry. She wasn't making any noise, but her shoulders were shaking.

‘‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you,'' said Gerry. ‘‘I'm such an idiot sometimes.''

She sniffed again. ‘‘No really, it wasn't you. It's my … my general situation at the moment. I don't know what's going on.'' She picked up her spoon. ‘‘It's just … I can feel myself just pissing around and I don't know what to do next.'' She sighed and tapped her spoon gently on the bridge of her nose. ‘‘Does it get better Gerry?''

‘‘Does what get better?'' he frowned.

‘‘You know, life?''

‘‘Life? Fucked if I know! God, look at me. No offence, but what am I doing here? I should still be in the army, or at least have a proper job!'' His voice was a little too loud and Laurie could feel the waitress hovering near. He took a deep breath. ‘‘Look Laurie. I'm the last person you should be looking to for some kind of guidance.''

Laurie tapped the spoon off her cheek.

‘‘Yeah. I know.'' She sighed. ‘‘I should sort myself out.''

‘‘What about your parents? Or a big sister or something?''

She looked at Gerry with something approaching amusement.

‘‘Eh, No. I don't think so.'' She made a little humph sound and put her spoon down firmly. ‘‘They're even more in the dark than I am.'' She laughed. ‘‘They haven't even noticed there's no light on!'' She laughed again. ‘‘And they don't even know there's a light switch!''

She leaned back and laughed loudly. Gerry watched her thin shoulders going up and down.

Laurie's laughter petered out.

‘‘Okay,'' she said. ‘‘That's a bit better. I'm all over the place.''

‘‘It's okay, don't worry about it.'' He reached out and touched her arm. She grasped his forearm and squeezed it, glancing around the near empty cafe. ‘‘Where's everyone gone?''

Gerry shrugged. ‘‘Do you want to come back to mine? The flat's not far from here.''

‘‘Mm … Okay. Why not, eh? Live dangerously.'' She stood up and pulled her coat on.

‘‘Okay,'' said Gerry. He fished around in his pocket and took out a fiver. He tucked the fiver under his cup and pulled on his coat, looking around for the waitress. She'd made herself scarce.

‘‘Come on then,'' said Laurie. She was standing in the doorway, holding the door open with her hip. ‘‘It's that way, isn't it?''

‘‘No,'' Gerry said, smiling. ‘‘It's the other way.''

‘‘It was fifty/fifty. You can't always make the right guess, can you?''

‘‘No, I don't suppose you can.'' He put his hand on her shoulder and steered her the right way.

It was bitterly cold and eye-wateringly bright as they made their way along the road to Gerry's flat. Laurie huddled in to Gerry against the wind and peeked over her collar to see the street. Gerry must be well used to much worse conditions in the army. She tried to look a bit less cowed by the cold which was making her ears throb and her nose numb. She must look a right state.

‘‘It's not far now,'' said Gerry pointing ahead as if they were trudging through snow at the North Pole.

‘‘Roger,'' said Laurie, but she was so effectively tucked into her coat she had no confidence that Gerry could actually hear her.