Lila stirred her coffee, stared ahead at nothing. Morning in the refectory-cum-coffee shop on Truro College campus and she was taking a break from her classes. Alone. As usual.
She crumbled her double chocolate muffin into pieces, popped one in her mouth. The campus was still busy this close to Christmas, local day students on pre-degree courses, just like she was doing, reluctant to say goodbye to their friends and go home. Degree students still doing the rounds of Christmas parties before they disappeared. Lila was apart from all that.
She was invited to parties, drinks in the town with her classmates, and had attended a few. But she still felt she had little in common with them. Because of what she had been through, she couldn’t share their self-assurance and certainty about the future. So she went along with them, joined in as much as she could, but found them, for the most part, too young for her. Or at least too naive.
Tom had encouraged her to mix, get to know them. They might not be as bad as she thought. And she had made an effort, but she still preferred her own company at breaks rather than hearing their opinions on the latest vacuous American TV show they were all watching on Netflix. And not just because she and Tom couldn’t get Netflix.
But as the term had progressed she had reached something of a conclusion. Maybe it wasn’t them. Maybe it was her. Yes she was different to them, had had a different set of life experiences, felt older than her years as a result. But maybe she just wanted to fit in and couldn’t. Maybe she wanted to be carefree and laugh at everything like they did. To care about dumb stuff like TV shows and Instagram celebrities. To have certainties instead of nothing. Maybe. And the closer she got to that, the harder the divide was to navigate.
Whatever. She sat on her own, drinking her coffee, eating her muffin. Thinking that maybe she should just accept that distance if she couldn’t change it. She tried to think about other things. Like the motorcyclist she had seen a couple of days ago at the top of the hill.
Why couldn’t she get him out of her head? He had been lost, he said, that was all. Looking for somewhere. Seemed simple enough. So why did she feel like he had been watching her?
She hoped it wasn’t because of the colour of his skin. True, there weren’t many people of colour in her part of Cornwall and the ones who were there tended to stand out. But with his Belstaff motorbike jacket and good boots he hadn’t looked like a local. Or a tourist for that matter. He looked like he had been working. And that made her uneasy.
Since then she had checked for him while she was on the bus, when she was home, even during the night, getting up to peer into the darkness. She found no trace of him, no evidence he was watching her or the house, but that unease still wouldn’t lift. She was glad Pearl was with her most of the time, just for security.
She wished Tom were there. He would know what to do. Or if he didn’t, she could comfortably imagine that he did. He was that kind of reassuring presence in her life. She just wished she could talk to him. Maybe she could go and . . .
‘Hey,’ said a voice, ‘mind if I join you?’
Lila looked up, startled. A girl was standing in front of her. Dark skinned, pretty, smiling. Lila thought for a moment, recognised her from her sociology class.
‘Uh . . . yeah, sit down.’
‘Looked like you were miles away,’ said the girl, sitting down opposite, putting her coffee on the table.
‘Yeah, I was.’
‘We’re in sociology together, aren’t we, with good old Guru George Hearn?’
‘Yeah.’ Lila smiled then looked perplexed. ‘Guru? Is that what he’s called?’
‘Yeah the whole class calls him that. Don’t you?’
‘I’m . . . I hadn’t heard.’ She smiled again. ‘Guru. Suits him.’
‘I’m Anju. Don’t know if you knew or not. You’re . . . Lola?’
‘Lila.’ She said it. Couldn’t help herself. There was something about this girl’s openness that made her put aside her normal reticence.
‘Lila. Right. Where’s that from?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Lila. Does it mean something?’
‘Dunno.’
‘Your parents didn’t give you that name because of any deep meaning or anything?’ Anju laughed as she spoke.
Lila smiled again. It felt like the most smiling she had done in ages. ‘Obviously you’ve never met my parents.’
Anju laughed again. It sounded so refreshing, unforced. Infectious, even. There was no way this girl had an agenda. No way someone had sent her over to talk to her. At least Lila hoped there wasn’t.
‘Mine gave me this name, Anju, because it’s Hindi for beloved.’
‘So you’re Hindu?’
Another laugh. ‘No. Muslim. My parents wanted to show just how progressive they were by giving me a Hindi name. I told them, if they really want to show how progressive they were, they should have called me Alison or Sandra, or something like that. They didn’t think it was funny.’
Lila was starting to enjoy herself for the first time in ages. She made eye contact with Anju. Anju’s gaze was direct, intense, even. But not in an unpleasant way. The opposite. Like she just really wanted to see her and be seen by her. So honest Lila dropped her eyes to her crumbled muffin.
‘Sorry,’ said Anju. ‘I’m stopping you eating.’
‘No.’ Lila shook her head, ‘You’re not. I was just having a coffee. The muffin was just something for my fingers to do while I drank.’
Anju laughed, again unforced, uninhibited. Lila was really warming to her. ‘Why are you on your own? You waiting for someone?’
‘No,’ said Lila. ‘Just . . . dunno. Just on my own.’
Anju sat back, regarded Lila inquisitively. ‘I’ve been watching you.’
Oh God, thought Lila, here it comes. She’s mental. I’ve attracted another mentalist.
‘Not like that,’ said Anju, almost reading her mind, ‘Not in a stalkery way or anything. Just, you know. I’ve seen you in class and round here. And you’re always alone. Well, most times. But you don’t really look lonely.’
‘What do I look like, then?’
Anju thought, tried to find the right word. ‘Apart. Separate.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. Like you’re different to the rest of the class. You’re mainly in psychology, right?’
Lila nodded. ‘And Sociology. But mainly Psychology. So you think I don’t fit in? I’m a misfit, is that what you’re saying?’
‘No. You just seem like you know something they don’t. And they might never know it. It’s interesting.’
Lila sat back, stared at the other girl. Wary now. Not wanting to give up any more of herself. ‘I know something? Like what?’
A look of worry crossed over Anju’s face. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’ve spoken out of turn. I get like that. I don’t have . . . whatever other people have. A filter? I don’t know. I just . . . say things. What I’m thinking. Some people say it makes them uncomfortable. I’ve done it to you now. Sorry.’ Anju’s face reddened. She picked up her coffee cup, made to go. ‘I’ll leave you alone. Enjoy your muffin.’
Lila watched her rise. Something told her if she let her go she would regret it. She thought quickly, made a decision. She would trust her feelings.
‘No wait. You don’t have to go.’
Anju paused, looked back at her.
‘Sit down. We were getting on all right.’
Anju sat back down. ‘Sorry. I’ll make small talk instead. Promise.’
Lila smiled. ‘Who the hell wants small talk?’
Anju smiled too.
And they both laughed.