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‘Okay, then can I take buses from here and keep switching?’
The driver scrutinizes me and the big bag I’m carrying. ‘I’m sure you can but not tonight. The station is almost closed. Why don’t you go home and, if you still want to get to York tomorrow, someone at the information desk will be able to help you then.’
He heads out to the car park, and I slump down onto a metal bench. The cold penetrates my wet clothes and makes me shiver. The arguing men start moving away from the station, and my heart rate calms a tad.
I take the money from my pocket and wonder how far it can really get me. As I do, I realize, I don’t have anywhere else to go.
I’m not going back there. I won’t.
A loud group of people burst from the doors of a pub across the road from the station, laughing and joking.
Well, if beer makes people happy, I’ll take it.
I lug my bag to The Lion’s Head and take a spot on a stool in one corner of the bar; I’m underage, only seventeen, and I don’t want to be called out on it. It seems like the pub is starting to empty, but people are still being served, and a group of men are still playing pool.
‘What can I get you, love?’
I try not to seem sheepish when the middle-aged man leans his big hands on the bar and towers over me. ‘Erm, a bottle of lager, please.’
His eyes narrow, as if he’s debating my age, but he backs away and takes a bottle of Heineken from the small fridge.
‘Will you be having another or do you want to pay now?’
I look around the grungy bar. It’s bigger than my bedroom. My mum and Dave aren’t here. It’s dry. ‘I’ll be having another.’
He nods and leaves me to wallow alone.
By the time I finish my third bottle, my head is feeling a little fuzzy. I like it. It’s better than thinking about my nanna or being ignored and told I’m worthless by my own mother.
‘Mind if I sit here?’
I raise my head to see a man who had been playing pool. He has stubble on his face and muscly arms beneath his Rolling Stones T-shirt. He’s older than me. Maybe twenty-five. Maybe older. I shake my head, and he sits.
‘You look like you’ve had a rough day.’
I scoff. ‘You could say that.’
‘You going somewhere?’ He points to my bag on the floor.
‘It was my nanna’s funeral today. She was the only person who has ever given a crap about me, and now she’s gone. So, I’m going somewhere, anywhere away from home. I just don’t know where.’ The words come quicker than usual, and it’s not like me to blurt something like that to a complete stranger.
The man gestures to the barman, and within seconds, two bottles of Heineken are placed in front of us. The man raises his bottle. ‘Cheers to shitty days.’
‘Are we supposed to be happy about it?’ I ask after choking down a gulp from the new bottle.
‘No. But we live and learn. I’m Mike.’
I hold out my hand. ‘Hi, Mike. I’m Rebecca.’
‘Where are you staying tonight, Rebecca?’
I shrug.
‘Would you like to stay with me?’
My heart starts to hammer with panic as I take in his expression and realize he’s serious.
‘I’m not a serial killer or anything. I live nearby. You can stay with me tonight, and we can work out what you’re going to do tomorrow.’
