People Watching Part 16 - When The Night Comes
He hated his job. As the packed morning train rumbled around
the short sections of underground that ran beneath Boomtown’s streets, his
right hand clung to one of those springy things that dangled from the ceiling
of the carriage. He wondered what those
things were called but quickly decided that there was no one in Boomtown who
really gave a shit - or even gave a shit they were there. Briefly, he felt a strange sort of empathy
with these unnamed and unloved objects.
For most of his life, he’d felt that no one really gave a shit he
was there…...but before that thought could fester, the train pulled into the
next station – his station.
As he stepped out of the station, the
bitter wet wind that whipped in from the harbour was a blessed relief from the smell
of burning electrics, ancient threadbare carriage seats and the rain-sodden
coats of the huddled passengers which he’d endured once again in the
underground system. In the last few
days, some of the shops in this part of town had put up Christmas lights but like
most things in Boomtown, Frankie thought it all looked a bit half-arsed and he
wondered why they’d bothered. The
chatter in the office canteen was also focused on plans for Christmas. Living by himself, he saw no point in
celebrating. Since he’d moved into his
flat, it had never seen a Christmas tree or string of tinsel. But he was looking forward to the time
off work - drifting alone though endless, aimless days, he’d spend most of the
daylight hours in bed with the curtains drawn back and the weak winter sunlight
filtering through the glass and gently warming his pale skin. And he’d spend most of the nights getting
drunk and watching TV with the volume turned up until the neighbours started
hammering on the thin walls.
But things might not be so
straightforward this holiday. Over the
last couple of weekends part of him had started to look forward to going back
to work. It usually started early on
Sunday afternoon - a slightly disturbing feeling of longing would rise from the
pit of his stomach. He’d never
experienced this before but he knew the cause.
She did seem a little stuck-up, but she was very cute and if he was
reading the signs right, she seemed to like him. It worried him that if he struggled without
seeing her for a weekend, how would he cope during the Christmas holidays?
She’d only been with the company a
couple of weeks and worked upstairs in marketing, so he’d never managed to have
a proper conversation with her – something or someone had always got in the way. Early last week, he’d walked into one of the
filing rooms to find her there gossiping with a group of girls. They all looked a little guilty as they
turned towards him – all except her. She
flashed him a cheeky smile and saying nothing as she walked past, slipped a
piece of paper into his shirt pocket. On
it she’d written her name and her phone number – nothing else. Although he felt a little unnerved by her
confidence, she intrigued him like no one he’d ever met before.
It turned out to be one of those
occasional days when he didn’t see her floating through the office and immersed
in his own brooding disappointment, he spent the hours shuffling papers around
his desk trying to look busy. As soon as
5 o’clock came, he packed up his things and headed for home. As usual, the streets were choked with office workers
spilling out onto the pavement – blinking to adjust their eyes to the darkness
of the winter’s night and instinctively pulling their coats around them as they
stepped out of the air-conditioned warmth.
He reached his flat in time to catch the news – half listening he smiled
at the thought that once again, everything had functioned just fine without
him. Back in the day that private joke
had been funny, but now even he was beginning to get tired of it. He opened the fridge door, looking in vain
for something to go with the can of beans he’d just opened. He grabbed a beer and took a long slug…. just
like every other night, he’d probably have a few more beers before he sank into
sleep.……. ”Like every other night”.
Those words hung in the air like a bad smell. He was young, he had no commitments, why was
he wasting every night drunk and alone? For
once, why not try to break those chains that held him back? He reached into the cupboard over the fridge
which contained everything that was important to him and pulled out the paper
with her phone number on it.
He expected the ringing to go
unanswered, so her quick “hello?” took a little while to register. He hadn’t really thought the next bit through
and mumbled “hello” followed by something inane about the weather. If she was less than impressed by his opening
lines, she didn’t show it and they both quickly relaxed into the conversation. She made him laugh – the reason she hadn’t
been at work was because she’d had a problem with her back – she couldn’t get
it off the bed! As the conversation
drifted along, he realised that he loved her spirit – he couldn’t say he loved her,
he hardly knew her – but for possibly the first time in his life, he was content
just to be himself. He heard himself asking
what was she doing that night? Did she
fancy meeting up for a drink? Her answer
surprised him…could she come round to his place?
He did his best to tidy the small
flat, had a shower and got changed - though struggled to find the right balance
between looking like he’d made an effort and not trying too hard. He then spent the longest twenty minutes of
his life waiting. Was she going to stand
him up? She didn’t seem that
cruel. Maybe she’d written his address
down wrong, or there was yet another fault on the underground……
Knock, knock….she hadn’t stood him
up.
Immediately, their conversation picked
up where the earlier telephone call had ended.
He loved how clever and witty she was and that she was far more direct
than almost anyone he’d ever met. He
shared his dreams of getting out of Boomtown and making a new life somewhere
else, only for her to shoot him down mercilessly. Didn’t everyone in this place want to get
out? He was no different from any of the
others - he’d be nailed to his desk forever. If anyone else had shattered his fantasies like
that he’d have hated them for it, but for her to say it…for her to bring him
back down to earth, was OK…was a release….maybe what he’d been missing all his
feckless life?
As they laughed and drank, time seemed
to lose all meaning. Getting to know
this girl had become the single most important thing in his life – more
important than last trains, than work in the morning – more important than
anything. He slowly leaned towards her
and they kissed. There was no initial cautious
tenderness, they both felt the same passion fed by need and loneliness and maybe
a little alcohol.
She was still there when he woke in
the morning, with the weak winter sunlight filtering through the glass and
gently warming her pale skin. He had
expected this to be a one-night thing but now he hoped she’d be with him
tonight and every other night. As he lay
there, he started to think once more about the Christmas holidays – and the
hope that they would spend the entire week together.