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‘Don’t be. You’re right. It’s ridiculous.’ I’m ridiculous. At least, right now, in this moment, talking to her, it’s how I feel.
‘Bloody relationships.’ She stands up. ‘Maybe we’re better off without them.’ She lingers a moment. ‘Bet you’re really glad you ran into me today.’
Sitting there, I’m silent, not deliberately ignoring her. The truth is, a million thoughts are filling my head as she raises a hand in farewell before turning in the direction of the town and walking away.
7
MARNIE
As I walk away from the folly, I know I’ve shocked the guy. I mean, when you go for an early morning walk, you don’t exactly expect a stranger to gate-crash your bench and hurl insults at you – for no good reason other than the fact that they really haven’t had the best of weeks.
I walk carefully, avoiding the slush left behind after last night’s snow, contemplating that maybe I’ve done him a favour. I mean, he’s wasted a year of his life, I remind myself. On a woman who cheated on him, no less. And it isn’t that I don’t know how betrayal feels. It’s just that when life itself is so uncertain, when it can change in an instant, when it’s there for us to embrace every second of, it annoys me when people waste it.
But what’s even more annoying is that right now, I’m one of those people, my life seeming to have ground almost to a standstill.
Taking the path that leads towards the High Street, I watch a girl run towards me. In leggings and trainers, she’s gazing ahead, earphones clamped over long red hair tied in a ponytail. As she passes me, I guess her age – sixteen or seventeen – feelingslightly jealous of her. She’s young enough to let her imagination run free, unencumbered, yet old enough to have unanswered questions about life.
I feel an unfamiliar pang of envy. At her age, I was anything but carefree, my life dictated by an inconstant mother who cared only about herself. I left as soon as I had somewhere to go, learning the hard way through too many relationships that didn’t work out to rely only on myself.
The main road comes into view and I think about what I told the guy just now – about how love feels. The thing is, I might not have found it, but deep inside, I’ve always had an instinct about it – and I’m not talking about fireworks and shooting stars. I’ve always believed that there’s a quiet kind of magic about it; in the way you can just know someone. Not in the kind of way that you know their favourite foods, who their friends are or where they work. It’s more like you somehow know their soul.
When I reach the High Street, it’s slowly stirring into life just as it did yesterday, as it will tomorrow and the next day, in an ongoing repeating pattern. It’s a far cry from my life in Spain, but instead of feeling reassuring, it’s oppressive. Today, however, I don’t have time to dwell on it. It’s another workday – thankfully a Saturday – which if there’s any justice in this world means a day without arsehole lawyers and the such like.
I sigh, thinking of the trashed hotel room and unresolved bill. But it isn’t just the damage that’s winding me up. It’s the people who think they can get away with this kind of thing. People like Arsehole Lawyer, too. They’re exactly the kind of people I don’t want in my life.
But for now, this is my life. And it isn’t a bad place to live. The hotel is small, but it has a quirky kind of charm about it. At the moment, it isn’t busy. At this time of year, most of our guests are simply seeking a quiet escape for a few nights, Saturdays in January having lapsed into a pattern of late check-outs with alull in the bar until lunch that leaves me with too much time on my hands.
This morning, after the guests check out, as I’m tidying the already immaculate bar, through the window I see a man walking down the street.
Frowning, I study him more closely. It’s that arsehole lawyer – I’d bet money on it, only today, instead of smooth-haired in his expensive suit, he’s wearing faded jeans and a heavy jacket. I feel a flicker of irritation.Three times in two days.It seems beyond coincidence. Suddenly I’m hoping he doesn’t come here.
I watch him stop next to a monstrosity of a flashy blue car for a moment. If I didn’t know better, I’d describe his expression as preoccupied. But after our encounter yesterday, I already know he isn’t capable of thoughtful emotions. He’s someone who feels entitled in life. Feeling relieved when he walks away, I notice the girl who ran past me this morning, the same earphones clamped over her long red hair, this time in jeans and a puffa jacket, seemingly lost in her own world. My feeling of envy is back.To feel like that, just for a day…
She vanishes from view, and as I go over to the window, suddenly the street seems filled with people. Young, old, couples, friends. Dressed up and dressed down, as they go about their day. All the world happy with their lives… Or so it seems.
While where am I? In a job I fell into, in a place I don’t want to be, simply marking the days, waiting for things to change.
8
RAE
As I organise the bookshelves, I peruse the titles I’ve carefully chosen. When there are ups and downs in all our lives, I’ve always liked the thought that my shop can help people.
For a moment I fantasise about creating a mecca where people like the girl in the beanie hat can find solace from whatever’s on their minds, losing themselves in centuries-old wisdom that still holds true, because in thousands of years, in many respects, the human race hasn’t changed all that much.
Forgetting about making a profit for a moment, I picture comfy sofas and Eastern music, the air filled with the aroma of scented candles and incense sticks.
Who am I to think I can help?I remind myself. I’m no different to anyone else, bumbling through this existence that life is; finding my own way, as we all do. But I’ve learned to take the slightly fatalistic view that whatever the future might hold, right now, I’m where I’m meant to be.
My sister, Birdy, however, has her own ideas about how life should be lived – and that’s not in a small town where hardly anything ever happens.
‘There’s loads going on. And there’s the festival in summer.’ I’ve reminded her of this more than once, thinking of the hordes of people who flock here.
‘I know.’ Birdy looks pensive. ‘And I love it. It’s more that I want to experience other ways of life.’ She hesitates. ‘Rae? This summer, I was thinking about going away.’
I look at her, startled. ‘You haven’t mentioned this before.’
‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while.’ She looks hopeful. ‘I thought maybe we could go away together.’
