EMILY
Emily and I sat in the cab, leaving Leo to calm down Linda.
I rolled my trousers up to my knees and inspected the damage. There was a sizeable bloody welt on my left shin.
Emily reached into her bag and pulled out a tube of salve. ‘Put some of this on it.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, and rubbed on the cream.
‘Feisty lady,’ Emily said.
‘Can’t really blame her.’
‘Suppose not.’ Emily put her hands on the steering wheel. ‘Am I allowed to drive one of these?’
I thought about it. The Burger Van had a tachograph, so I said, ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Do you drive?’
Me mad, I heard Sarah say.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
There were many reasons why I’d never learnt to drive: owning a vehicle too expensive, public transport on tap, parking crazy and my only ever attendance at Glastonbury when I was eighteen years old.
I hitchhiked down to the West Country on my own and it rained constantly. By the Saturday afternoon, I’d had enough, packed my tent up and walked out of the site to Shepton Mallet to try and find a B&B for the night. Wishful thinking, so I hit a pub and got chatting to a few people at the bar, where some feller who was dressed in leather took a shine to me. I told him straight up I wasn’t gay and he said neither was he. We drank more and he began to slur. He said he could put me up and I, having nowhere to go as the rain shattered down on the pub windows, accepted. The landlady of the pub insisted on taking the car keys off my new mate and asked me if I could drive.
I was young and stupid but could handle my alcohol. I said, ‘Yes,’ and she gave me the keys.
The car was parked out front facing the road. I got in the driver’s seat, switched on the ignition and reversed straight down a small hill into a tree.
I’ve never driven since and have also never been to an overblown rock festival when it’s pissing down with rain.
‘I had a go once but didn’t like it,’ I said to Emily.
‘Is that why you’re not in charge of this job, because you don’t drive?’
I shrugged. I had many faults but I was fairly modest.
Leo appeared at my window, shaking his head.
‘Going to make a complaint to Currys?’ I asked him.
‘Right. I’ve placcided Mrs White’s daughter.’
‘I’m sorry?’ said Emily.
‘Calmed her down,’ Leo qualified. ‘She’s discovered the damage to the dresser and the broken bits so I’ve said we’ll take the dresser top back to the yard and get it fixed and she can claim for the other damage. We’ve also got to unpack what we’ve packed and get moving to the job.’
‘The real job?’
‘Yes, the real job.’
‘Emily and I’ll start unpacking,’ I said. ‘You need to phone the office, tell them what’s happened and get them to ring the right customer and tell them we’re running late.’
Leo’s bottom lip began to tremble and I thought there was a good chance he might actually start crying.
Under Linda’s dangerously silent supervision, Emily and I unpacked the three cartons I’d packed and the half Pack2 Leo had started in complete silence as if we were working in a morgue.
Leo informed us that Daz Oatridge and Trevor Blind were driving over to the right address to begin packing and we finally got away at eleven. Leo said nothing more and looked incredibly morose while I navigated.
Trevor Blind was wearing his suit trousers and shoes but had on a Stoneways T-shirt. He was grinning broadly as I backed the van in with Emily.
‘I think that must be Leo’s greatest ever cock-up and there’s been a few,’ he said.
‘How much is here?’ I asked.
Trevor slapped me on the back. ‘It’s alright, my son. Nice job; the daughter’s packed most of it.’
I slammed my hand against the side of the van to stop it and opened up one of the doors. Emily opened the other.
Daz appeared from the flat, not looking very happy. He gave me a dirty look and marched up to the driver’s window.
‘You enjoying your first move, Emily?’ Trevor asked.
‘You stupid fucking prat,’ we all heard Daz say.
‘It’s been interesting,’ Emily said.
‘OK, I can slightly understand how you came to be at the wrong address but how the hell did you manage to damage an extremely expensive antique dresser top when you weren’t even fucking loading?’
‘I’ll show you both round,’ Trevor said.
‘How did it happen? Please do not tell me you left the bloody doors wide open when you were packing it? Even my five-year-old son knows better than fucking that!’
For a change, Trevor wasn’t lying – there wasn’t much there and Mrs Laidlaw’s daughter had indeed packed a fair amount. In fact, you couldn’t have asked for nicer people to move. Tea was offered almost straightaway but politely refused because of the lateness of the hour.
Daz and Trevor both stayed on and we were loaded by half twelve. Daz himself got the ‘we’ve got everything’ bit signed on the sheet and apologised for the initial tardiness of the crew. Technical difficulties, he told our customer.
‘You alright now?’ Daz asked me as he and Trevor got into his company car.
‘Fine – thanks very much,’ I replied.
‘I’ll see you back at the yard,’ Daz said to Leo, and shook his head darkly.
‘Is Leo going to get a Job Chat form as well?’ I asked.
‘Don’t push it, Pete; I’m not in a very good mood.’
We arrived outside the bungalow in Purfleet an hour later; Leo’s twat-nav app was not produced.
Jenny, daughter of the real Mrs Laidlaw, met us outside and told us the sale still hadn’t gone through. Her mum’s solicitor reckoned about half two. I glanced at Leo, whose head was buried in the steering wheel, and told Jenny not to worry. We’d grab a bite to eat and wait.
It was a sunny afternoon so I announced I was going to walk down to the park and eat my sandwiches. Emily asked if she could tag along.
‘It’s up to you,’ I replied in my ‘I’m not bothered’ voice.
‘OK, I’ll just stay here then.’
I began to backtrack. ‘Well, you can come if you want to.’
Emily made no effort to move. ‘I’m fine sitting here.’
‘Well, it would be… it would be…’
‘It would be what?’ she asked, and smiled.
My heart melted. ‘Nice if you came down to the park with me,’ I said in a very quiet, pathetic voice and prayed she wouldn’t be so cruel as to say, ‘Pardon?’
‘I’d like that,’ she said, picked up her backpack and followed me out of the cab.
Leo still sat there, head in the steering wheel, and I felt for him.
‘Leo?’ I offered.
He raised his head and looked at me through his sunglasses. ‘No, I’m alright here.’
‘Sure?’
He took a while to answer. ‘Yeah.’ He paused and then mumbled, ‘Thanks, Pete,’ and collapsed back onto the steering wheel.
We found a bench to sit on in the sun. It was unseasonably warm and the last soft colours of dying autumn glowed in the trees.
My cheese, cucumber and mayonnaise sandwiches were embarrassing but I was hungry and had to eat. They tasted a bit like cardboard and globules of mayo kept falling through the slowly disintegrating, Sainsbury’s thin-sliced and onto my sweatshirt and trousers.
Emily handed me a half-full kitchen roll from her backpack. I thanked her, tore off a piece and cleaned myself up. She lifted out a tartan blanket and lay it around her waist and knees. The thermos flask she had on Saturday came next, followed by a cellophane bag containing two rolls.
‘A bit like Mary Poppins,’ I said.
Emily unwrapped one of her rolls. God, it looked nice: soft-looking like its owner with tufts of fresh lettuce and off-the-bone ham drooping down luxuriously from its sides.
‘Do you think I look like Julie Andrews?’ she asked.
‘No, your bag.’
‘My bag?’ She opened up the thermos and poured some of the contents into the cup.
‘It holds a lot.’
‘Oh, I see,’ she said. ‘Like when she pulled out the plant?’
‘Exactly.’
We didn’t talk as we ate. Emily’s lunch had made me even hungrier, but I was careful not to eat too quickly nor open my mouth as I chewed. I was on my last sandwich when Emily offered me one of her rolls.
‘No, I’m alright; honestly,’ I said.
‘Peter, I’m not that hungry and you’ve been very nice to me today. You haven’t been patronising and have treated me with respect. I’m grateful, so please have this roll.’
‘Well, OK then,’ I said.
‘It’s got butter in it.’
‘Fine.’
‘And mustard.’
‘Even better.’
I ate it in three bites. It was incredible.
Emily stood up and shook out the crumbs from her blanket. ‘How long do we have to wait until we can unload the lorry?’ she asked.
‘It depends,’ I said. ‘Solicitors won’t do anything now until at least two so I should think we’re looking at three. Maybe earlier, but then again, maybe later.’
‘Like a piece of string?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘I might go and lie down over there on that bank for a while.’ Emily pointed.
‘Be my guest.’
She looked me straight in the eye. ‘Would you like to join me?’
We lay side by side on the blanket, very close but not touching.
She told me she’d phoned Ross this morning before she came to work and had a long chat about me.
I was curious. ‘What did she say?’
‘She was very nice about you. Said you’d been a loyal friend since her husband died.’
‘I’ve tried.’
‘You’ve never thought of getting together? She’s an attractive lady.’
‘She’s like a sister to me.’
A thrush landed nearby. It gave us a cursory look and began to peck at the grass.
‘She told me about Sarah.’
I sat up. ‘Excuse me, but it sounds like you seem to know an awful lot about me, but this morning you didn’t even remember my name.’
‘Do you think us girls are that much different to you boys?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Bravado. I pretended to forget your name so you wouldn’t think I was overly interested in you. Similar to when you said you were going to sit in the park and eat your lunch and pretended you weren’t bothered if I came with you or not.’
‘Was I really that see-through?’
Emily smiled but with a tinge of sadness and reflection. ‘I can only recognise things in others which I recognise in myself.’
The thrush captured a worm in its beak and took to the air.
I lay back down. ‘So, are you interested in me?’
Emily turned on her side to face me. ‘Yes, I have to say I am. I think you’re good-looking in a weather-beaten type of way and you’re nice. Easy to get on with and, as far as I can see, not aggressive.’
Our faces were inches apart.
‘Unlike your ex-husband.’
‘Unlike my ex-husband.’
I leant over to kiss her but she placed a finger on my lips.
‘Not yet,’ she said softly. ‘Can we not rush it? I’ve said I like you; it doesn’t mean I want to have wild sex with you straightaway. I’d like to think we’re both a bit older and more mature than that.’
I turned away. ‘Of course, of course.’
‘You are funny, you know.’
‘Good.’
She sat up. ‘Oh, don’t be horrible.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Do you mean that?’
‘Yes, I do.’
She picked up one of my hands and held it. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and kissed me on my forehead.
My phone rang: Leo.
‘Yes, mate?’
‘They’ve got the keys.’
‘Be there in a minute.’
We stood up and Emily shook any crumbs off the blanket and folded it back into her backpack.
‘Would you like to meet up for a drink sometime?’ I asked her as we walked back through the park.
‘Love to,’ she said.
I smiled and felt pleasingly warm inside like a teenager in love.
Emily wrote down her number on a scrap of paper and handed it to me. ‘One thing, though. I’m afraid we’ll have to watch out for my ex. He’s very jealous of me seeing anyone else.’
I made myself taller and swaggered slightly as though a small, rolled-up carpet lay under each of my armpits. ‘That’s OK.’
‘He has a lot of eyes and ears, so please don’t mention us to anyone.’
‘What about Ross?’
‘OK, yes; maybe Ross. But no one else, OK?
‘Is he that scary?’
‘OK?’ Emily repeated.
I shrugged. ‘OK.’
We walked on.
‘Would I know this bloke?’ I asked.
‘Where are you from?’
‘I was born in Pulham Park but have spent most of my life in North and South Bitton.’
‘Then you might have heard of him.’
I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like this. ‘What’s his name?’
Emily opened the park gate and said, ‘Ray Henderson.’
We were unloaded by four but Leo offered to unpack, which was fair enough – they were lovely people and we’d been nearly three hours late. The bona fide Mrs Laidlaw gave us all a hug and a kiss and £10 each.
It was now five o’clock and I made two phone calls after we’d got back in the cab. The first was to Daz asking him if I could jump out before we got back to the yard. He said, ‘Yes,’ but reminded me to fill out the Job Chat form. I told him no problem and phoned Jeff Unsworth.
‘Yo.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Just heading down the Queens for a pint. Why?’
‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
Leo dropped me off outside the pub and I said my goodbyes. When Leo checked the driver-side mirror to see what was coming, I held an imaginary phone to my ear. Emily smiled and gave me a thumbs-up.
The pub was quiet; a group of lads were playing pool and Jeff sat at the bar chatting to Ruth and nursing a pint of Stella. I decided on a Fosters top and asked him if we could sit down somewhere out of the way.
We sat at a table in the far corner of the saloon bar and the jukebox began to play ‘Riders on the Storm’ by The Doors.
‘Unusual for you to be out and about on a Monday night, especially so near to payday. What’s up?’ Jeff asked.
‘Can you tell me more about Ray Henderson?’
Jeff shifted in his seat. ‘Why are you so interested in him?’
‘I just am.’
‘You’re not going to do any work for him, are you?’
‘A friend of mine’s upset him.’
‘What’s he done?’
‘Slept with his ex-wife.’
‘Has he moved to Australia yet?’
‘Jeff, be serious. Is he really that bad?’
Jeff took a sip of his pint. ‘A few years ago, my brother Dan opened up a pub in Cheston. Henderson paid a visit with one of his boys, an animal by the name of Dave Kennet. Henderson wanted a cut of the takings for protection. Now, my brother could handle himself and told him no. Henderson asked him again and Dan told him to fuck off. Kennet grabbed a fork off a nearby table and gouged one of my brother’s eyes out.’
Ray Manzarek’s keyboards faded and a car alarm sounded in the pub’s car park.
‘I’m sorry to hear that story,’ I said.
‘People like Henderson and Kennet are arseholes of the highest order but they’re also extremely nasty and vicious arseholes. Keep well away.’
‘How’s your brother now?’
‘Let’s just change the subject,’ Jeff said, and I saw the hatred in his eyes.
I got back to the flat at seven and cracked open a can of Stella. I sat on the bed and thought about Emily and how much I liked her and then I thought about Jeff’s brother.
I sat for a while longer before the silence began to oppress me. I couldn’t face The Sabs or anything remotely heavy, so I pulled out the Pack6 from under the bed and rummaged until a compilation CD caught my eye: The Best of Kenny Rogers.
I put on track 5, ‘Coward of the County’, and played it three times.