The Unfinished Tale Of Sophie Anderson (5 page)

"I didn't realise," I said. "I thought you were just a seat-polisher."

"I'm that too!" he laughed.

"But you still know nothing about welding."

"No, that's true. Only what I learn from you." I blushed but thankfully I played it down as the exertion of getting up off the floor. "Last one?"

"Yeah, last one."

"Let's do it so you can meet up with Mel for dinner."

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"I'll get the job inspected and signed off so we can leave right after you're done."

"Do you want me to grab you something to eat? My shout." I said. Even this simple question provoked a bit of heat in my face.

"Yeah, please. I'd like that. I never thought you'd be buying me dinner," he said with a grin. What was he trying to do, melt me? Cause heat stroke?

"I think I can stretch to a sandwich."

"Last of the big spenders. I feel so special."

I think I almost skipped to Costa once we'd rattled off the last railing and washed our hands. Tom had gone off in search of the Hammer Head and I'd dared to tie the arms of my overalls around my waist and head out into the city centre to meet up with Mel. It was warm for a winter's day and the sun was out but the real heat was inside me where it hadn't been for a long time. It made me wonder why happiness was so bloody fickle that it only stopped by for a cup of tea once in a blue moon before flitting off to some other lucky person. Why couldn't I feel like this all the time? Why, as I knew it would, did it decide to fly away just when it was needed the most?

There was a Waterstones bookshop near the Costa and I couldn't help but stare at the Christmas displays before carrying on. I had a strange obsession for books - the feel of the paper, the smell, the idea that you're basically sticking the author inside your head for a few hours. In those books the characters always seemed to get some of that rare 'happiness' stuff. It lasted too; it didn't fade into the grim front room where love goes to die - the realm of overweight lovers, glued to the tele and living as though the other half didn't even exist. To shopping trolleys pushed around busy shopping centres, to old age and name calling, to death and familiarity dressed up in the tattered rags of 'love' and paraded out at the funeral for all to see, one last attempt to gloss over the years of hatred and regret.
'Look how he loved her'
and
'that's true love'
when no one saw the anger, the disappointment, the bitter nights of wondering 'what if?'

I suddenly felt afraid. I was afraid to let him in. To have happiness come and settle into my heart, just to watch it leave again. To feel his hands on my skin, to breathe in his passion, only to have it replaced by cold nights in an empty bed a few months later. Or worse - to marry, to have children and begin the slow shuffle towards hating each other. The touch of a lover replaced by the slap of an angry husband. The hot, passionate kiss replaced by the heartless peck on the cheek.
'You look wonderful in that'
decaying into
'you're looking fat now'.

As I stared through the glass I realised I'd kicked happiness out before it could sit down. It wasn't welcome inside me anymore and it'd gone. Blinked away outside Waterstones on a warm winter's day.

"Hey - how's it going?" asked Mel as I walked into Costa. She was looking her usual sassy, professional self but around her eyes there were the betraying dark lines where the call from Jake had affected her. Still, it made me feel inadequate in my dirty blue work gear, though there were a few high-viz jackets at a couple of the tables so I felt comfortable enough in them at least.

We walked to the counter and joined the queue. The shortbreads were looking at me again but I'd had my treat this morning and so I was determined to behave myself.

"We're done - for now," I said.

"Do you have more to do?" she asked.

"Possibly but it won't be until some of the other building work is done. It's back to the workshop for me I'm afraid."

"That's a shame. I was starting to enjoy our lunches. That dark cave you call a place of work is playing hell with your complexion, you know that, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're looking pale... Washed out..."

"Wow - I needed another boost from you. Thanks!"

I ordered a plain ham Panini with a white coffee and Mel ordered the works. No matter how much she ate it didn't seem to find a way to anywhere on her body. I'm convinced that
my
body runs on the motto 'a minute on the eyes, six stone on the thighs'. No doubt the shortbread that morning would mean punishment on the scales. Somehow Mel would eat the muffin, the triple-cheese sandwich, the bag of crisps and the cinnamon latte without so much as a sliver of fat gain.

We sat down at a table near the window so we could people-watch. I told her I had an hour for dinner and she grinned.

"Did Tom let you have that?" she said.

"Yes - he is my supervisor you know."

"Hmm."

"What's that supposed to mean?" With Mel I always felt like I was on the back foot. I was just glad she couldn't read into my overalls whatever it was she saw in my pyjamas.

"He's doing favours for you now. Is it me..." she said, fanning herself with a napkin, "or is it getting hot in here?"

"Knock it off," I said. "There's nothing going on."

"Whatevs'," she laughed. "You can't fool me."

My Panini seemed to be on my plate, then gone in a moment yet I was still hungry. Dieting sucked.

"How are you, Mel?" I asked, shifting the tone. "You haven't...?"

"Heard anything? No, but as soon as the phone store opened I went and got a new SIM right away. I'll text you the number later."

"You're not taking any chances?" I asked.

"No. This new one is in a false name too, just to be on the safe side. I've also told the HR department at work that my details are to be kept out of all our press stuff too. I'm going 'off the grid' as they say."

"You're going all 'Tom Clancy' then?" I said.

"I had my little crying session once you'd gone to bed and I woke up this morning and said 'fuck it' - I'm not going to let that bastard ruin my life again. I can't hide in the flat waiting for him. I decided to take action."

"Good for you," I said.

"Yeah, it will be. Maybe he'll just get bored and find some other woman to harass."

"I kind of hope not."

"I hope he gets hit by a fucking bus," she said. "I hope the bus drives on and a truck wheels right over whatever is left. Then the road sweepers..."

"I get it," I said, raising my hand for her to stop. "I think I see where you're going."

"Soph - I can't go back to all that fear and terror and wondering how he'll react to the meal I cooked him or the brew I just poured or the shape of my arse or any of those things he thought were important enough to beat me for getting wrong."

"I know you can't," I said. "I don't want you to either."

"Good. That's why we're going out tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. I know it's a school night but I thought 'fuck it - let's get smashed and see if we can find ourselves two decent lads to cop off with'. What do you say?"

My stomach had taken the motorway to my throat and broke down there. I hated going round town on the piss and Mel knew that. Could I refuse? Would it help her to get it out of her system? I wasn't so sure but I wasn't exactly the stronger person here.

"If you say so," I sighed.

"Great! I'm going to try and get off early and get my hair done. Cheryl might be able to fit me in if I hurry home tonight. What do you think?"

"Give her a call and see."

"Ooh, I'm excited now. This is just what I needed. Thanks Soph."

"Don't mention," I said - and I meant it. "It's no problem."

On the drive home Tom couldn't help himself.

"But it's a school night!" he said with tears of laughter creeping out from the corners of his eyes.

"Well it is," I said with my arms firmly folded. "I have to be up for work."

"At least it won't be as early as this morning. Man, tomorrow will feel like a lie-in."

"Good for you. I'll be nursing a hangover."

"A good Macs is what you'll need. Works every time." The traffic began to build up again. It was only three in the afternoon but there was always the school traffic to contend with. "You're getting old, Sophie. That's what it is."

"You're right - I'm too old to be raving and misbehaving. Some of Mel's favourite places consider 18 to be too old. We'll look like a pair of desperate MILFS." Tom started laughing again. "It's not funny!" I protested.

"It is though. I've never heard someone complain so much about a night out. Do you need some company? Do you need a Sugar Daddy to hold your hand and defend you from the hormone-saturated young men you'll encounter? I'm not doing anything tonight."

Damn it - what were the pair of them trying to do to me, send me packing to an early grave? It sounded like Tom had just asked me out in a strange kind of way. I had to act quickly to salvage the situation.

"Nah, I'm a big girl. I can look after myself." Slick answer, Soph. Way-to-go.

"Well, if you change your mind I can always don the flat cap and cane." He was still chuckling to himself but I could have sworn he looked a little crestfallen. "It's been a while since I've been around town."

"You're not missing anything," I said.

"Is the Flax still there?"

"No, it changed hands a few years ago. It's some trendy club now."

"Jesus - that place was a proper gin-joint back in the day. Sawdust on the floor, rough panelling, shitty lighting and the best ales around. That's a shame. A night club?"

"Yeah. I remember what it used to be like too. I went drinking there on my first ever night out. You're right - it was a good old fashioned pub."

"Giant Jenga set?" he said.

"Oh yeah. And the battered dart board near the toilets?" He nodded. "Yeah, I was gutted when they sold it on."

"It's sad to see so many places going that way," he said. "They're the kinds of traditions you'd like to pass on to your kids but it's like you just don't get enough time to. Things have moved on, stuff has changed before you can introduce them to it."

"Is it right - you're divorced with a son?" I asked. He'd had some of my personal life. I think I was entitled to some of his.

"Yeah," he said and the sorrow returned to his eyes. "It didn't work out with Sean's mother and so we divorced. I see him every other weekend but he's older now."

"How old?"

"Seventeen. He doesn't need his Dad any more. There was a time when he worshipped me, wouldn't let me walk out of the front door without crying, but now he's all grown up. Or at least he thinks he is."

"But he still comes round?"

"Yeah, he stops for a few beers and crashes on the settee. He's into his MMA in a big way so he comes to watch the fights on my SKY box. I record them for him and we have a binge and a catch-up."

"Man-time," I said, laughing.

"That's the one. It winds his mum up so that's always a bonus."

"You don't get on?"

"No way. She's a fruitcake."

"In what way?" I asked.

"In the 'look sideways at another woman and I'll cut your bollocks off' kind of way. She was hot, I'll give her that but we all paid for it with her paranoia. If I was a few minutes late home she'd fly off the handle and accuse me of all kinds of things. If my phone went off she'd want to know who it was. She'd root through my bag on a daily basis, looking for evidence I was cheating or something. When Sean came along she got even worse. In the end I just had to get out of there."

"It must have been hard."

"You're not kidding. One of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I wanted to take Sean with me but her family made sure I didn't. It was a scary first year living on my own, wondering if he was okay. In the end he was and it worked out fine. She needed me to leave so she could sort herself out, I see that now."

"But it sounds like you were the one paying for it."

"Yeah, you could say that. Story of my life."

He went quiet after that and I didn't want to pry any more. The traffic slipped by us as we trundled along and I couldn't help but think about hitting the town and having to dress up for the occasion. I tried to imagine an outfit that was actually clean. The only benefit of getting old was that the dress code dropped at thirty. Jeans and a nice t-shirt sufficed to get into most clubs and by the time it didn't then Mel was usually too far gone to notice. Then it was the taxi home via the take away. It looked like my waist line was really going to suffer over the next twenty-four hours.

5.

When we got back to the workshop there were a couple of hours left until finishing time. I unloaded the van and put my equipment back where it belonged before making a cup of coffee and offering to help Frank with the Medicare job. The corners of the trays would need welding but before that he needed a sample to send up to inspection. I knocked a couple up, dressing the still-hot TIG welds with the grinder before sticking them in the lift.

"Cheers, love," he said as I signed off the job card. "That'll save me a job tomorrow."

"It's okay. I'll make a start on the rest once you've been given the all-clear."

"Yay," he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "At least it's near finishing time."

"How's it been today?" I asked.

"Okay I guess. Did I tell you there was a meeting on Friday?" I nodded. "Same old shit I expect. I've heard it for the last thirty years and it hasn't changed."

"Ever the optimist."

"I remember my Dad taking me to a factory when I was about 12 years old," he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah - he wanted me to get a feel for the career I would be choosing after I finished school. He'd lined me up for an apprenticeship in the local steel works and so he wanted to show me what it would be like."

"How was it?" I asked.

"Terrible. I vowed to myself I'd never set foot in a factory again as long as I lived."

"I guess that didn't work out."

"You're telling me."

I drove home still dreading Mel's maniacal plan to try and flush the memory of Jake out of our systems with an unhealthy dose of alcohol and bad Indian food. When I got into the flat (after dragging the mail out from under the door) I went rooting in my cupboard for something suitable. My favourite jeans were in a damp heap in the bathroom in the queue for the washing machine so I resorted to my back-up pair - the ones that required me to lie on my back to zip them up. I had a Rolling Stones t-shirt I'd gotten from
Primark
last year which didn't look too crumpled and a leather jacket my mum had gotten me three Christmases ago. I surveyed the row of shoes and boots I had and decided I didn't have enough. There were a pair of studded ankle length boots that caught my eye and so I felt a little easier about the coming events, the worst part now being over.

When Mel walked in it was clear she'd been able to wrestle an early finish - her hair was amazing! She'd had it pinned up in an intricate plaid with bits sticking out in a tasteful manner. It probably had a name but I only recognised it as the same one Jennifer Lawrence had been seen on the red carpet with last week.

"What do you think?" she asked the minute she walked in. Her shoes were already off and half-way across the room by this point.

"It's beautiful!" I said. "You made it in time then?"

"I rang Cheryl and when I told her what our plan was..."

"'Our' plan - when did it become 'our' plan?"

"Well, when I told her what '
the
' plan was she was able to fit me in. I had to drive like a maniac to get there in time but I think it was worth it. I nearly wiped out some old dear on a round-about who was going too slowly."

"Can you go too slowly on a round-about?"

"Yes, Soph, you can - especially when I need to be somewhere. Now come on, get ready - the taxi is booked for six."

She sped past me into her bedroom and I heard drawers being yanked out and slammed back in again. It was a symphony of chaos until she came bustling out again with her bright pink heels in her hand and a glass of something clear in the other.

"Come on - we're going to be late!" she said, throwing her shoes down and trying to step into them whilst finishing her vodka. "I thought we could start at the Spoons and move on from there. Have you seen my handbag?"

"Which one?"

"The little black one with the glittery bits."

"Over there on the kitchen top."

A car outside beeped its horn. "That's the cab." I got up, put my mobile phone into my jeans pocket and some cash in the other. This wasn't a handbag occasion and after a few drinks I'd be carrying Mel's anyway or she'd lose it.

She looked me up and down, shook her head and nearly ran out of the door. Well, as quickly as someone can run in high heels. I checked I had my keys before closing the door behind us and followed her downstairs. I was already dreading it and I began to wish I'd downed a pint of vodka too. It might have got me off to a better start - especially as my phone vibrated just as I was climbing into the back of the taxi.

"Who's that?" she asked as she slumped into the seat.

"Where to?" asked the driver.

"The Spoons on the high street please," she said. My phone was stuck in my pocket and it wouldn't budge. At least it was only a text and not in fact ringing or I'd have missed it three times. If I sort of half-stood, half-crouched I could just loosen it enough to prise it out with two fingers.

I swiped the screen and once more my heart took a blow. It was Tom.

TURNED OUT I AM IN TOWN WITH THE LADS.

IF YOU SEE ME I'M NOT STALKING YOU. HONEST.

"Who is it? As if I need to ask," said Mel. "Where are you meeting him?"

"I'm not," I said. "He's just telling me he's in town."

"Why?"

"I don't know," I said. "He's out with his mates, that's all."

"And he's telling you this because...?"

"How do I know?" I started to wish the taxi would go faster. I wanted to get out from under her spotlight and her questions. "I thought we were flushing men out of our minds?"

"So you admit he's in there."

"No!"

"Whatever. I want to get Jake out of my mind - not all male-kind. So at least I know one hunk is out tonight. Did he say where he was?"

"No."

"Maybe we'll bump into him. Maybe things might happen if
you
aren't interested." She was grinning wildly from ear to ear and I was willing the taxi to pick up the pace so she could get drinking. The faster she got drunk, the quicker we could get home again. It made me wonder what kind of friend I was to her that I didn't want to help her drink Jake out of her life.
A bad one
. I think I might have warmed to the idea after the first vodka and coke but now that I knew Tom was out there I was on my guard. It would be just my luck to get hammered only to stumble into him and say things I might regret tomorrow.

The taxi dropped us off outside the Spoons and we made our way inside just as a light rain was starting to fall. Town was already looking busy with the post-work crowd and the smells coming from the kitchen made my mouth water.

"Are we eating?" I asked.

"You can if you want. Food will get in the way of my drinking."

"Are you sure? You don't want to be going home early, do you?"

"That's a good point. Get me a chicken burger or something."

"Chips?" She looked at me like I'd sprouted a second head.

"Of course!"

I snaked my way between the tables and the crowds and reached the till, putting in our order with a boy who didn't look old enough to serve me two double vodka and diet cokes. Mel had found us somewhere to sit - a high table near the window and I carried them over to her, narrowly missing a bunch of rowdy footie fans.

"Them for me, love?" one of them called after me, roaring with laughter.

"Get your coat," said Mel, "You've pulled."

"Yeah, a real catch right there."

"Beggars shouldn't be choosy."

"Who's begging?"

"You're right - you have Tom."

"Will you let it drop?" I snapped. "There's nothing going on between us, I keep telling you that."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. So you don't mind that he's just walked in?"

I spun round in my seat so fast that I sent the vodka sliding across the table. Mel caught it the moment I realised he wasn't there. She was laughing her head off and I found myself joining her.

"Okay, maybe I feel... something..." I conceded. "But it isn't anything serious." Mel leaned forward and fixed me with her 'tell me all' stare.

"When did it start?"

"I don't know. We just got talking this morning and I felt like he... I don't know, maybe he just understood me. He wasn't trying anything on, he was just being nice. I liked it."

"Do you like him?" she asked.

"I really don't know, Mel. I never looked at him like this before but this morning it was like he was a new person to me. I 'saw' him, if that makes sense. I thought I was too old for butterflies, but I had them."

She put her hand on top of mine and smiled. "You're never too old, Soph. I hope something comes of it, I really do." She looked down and I felt her become far more serious. "You've done so much for me..."

"It's nothing," I said.

"Of course it is! Never play down what you did for me, helping me get over Jake, giving me a place to live, and putting up with all the shit I give you."

"You don't..."

"I know what I'm like so don't gloss over it - you've been a saint and an amazing friend and I love you for it. But you need some happiness of your own now, before it's too late."

"That might not have anything to do with Tom," I said.

"I know. But it might. You have to be prepared to let it happen and not..."

"Not what?"

"Not close yourself off to it. You need to let it in, let love in and not be scared that it might not work out."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"

"You might have to by the end of the night. I could do with a letting a real man in..." We broke out laughing just as the waiter came over with our food. He looked at us in that passive way all good waiters seem to master - the expression that says 'you're off your heads and I still have to serve you'.

"We'll have a few in here before moving on," said Mel, taking the top off her burger bun and squeezing a generous amount of mayo onto the chicken. "The footie just ended so there won't be much action here."

"Please promise me we won't end up in Larry's Bar?" She shrugged.

"You'd better hope we meet a couple of body builders before nine then, hadn't you?"

There was something going on behind me as I bit into my burger and Mel began looking over my shoulder. I turned round - it was the football crowd being escorted out by three Police men. They weren't going quietly and in the end the tallest Copper decided to get the ring leader in an arm lock and 'help' him out of the pub. We both stopped eating to watch.

"I wouldn't mind him getting me in an arm lock," said Mel, resuming her feast. "Hope he uses his cuffs."

"You're terrible," I said.

"You know you're thinking the same thing."

"Yeah. I think I am."

A few drinks later and I began to loosen up. Thoughts of bumping into Tom quickly left me and I think I'd started to actually hope we would. That was the thing about alcohol - it sucker punched you every time. It gave you the confidence to do something you wouldn't normally do, and then took away your ability to do it.

We'd moved onto the Old Bell which was your usual posh wine bar kind of place and we'd got talking to a pair of brothers who were having a drink before catching the train home to Blackburn. They both worked for the aerospace industry and one of them was pretty dishy with the biggest blue eyes I'd even seen and an unruly mop of jet black hair that gave him the mischievous attraction Mel had latched onto right away. That left me with the other brother who had clearly been given the left-overs in the looks department and who had a nasty habit of checking me out when he thought I wasn't looking.

"So what do you do?" said my opposite number. We hadn't reached the names level of trust yet and I doubted we ever would. I wasn't being shallow (promise!) but let’s face it, he just wasn't my type. He'd spent the last ten minutes explaining his love for the miniature soldiers he collected.

"I'm a welder," I said. The music wasn't that loud but he asked me to repeat myself and so I did.

"Really? But you're a girl?"

"Yeah. And?" I said, bristling a little.

"I didn't think women did that sort of thing."

"Why not?"

"I don't know - I just kind of thought it was a 'man' thing."

"Oh." I said.
Where do you go with that line of thinking?
I was looking past him at the door, hoping something might happen that would get me out of there. A fire. A bomb. Anything. Nothing was happening though and the conversation returned to little plastic troops. I looked at Mel who was now eating the other, better looking brother's face. She really did want to flush the thoughts of Jake out of her mind and now she had a guy using his tongue as a toilet brush too.

"I'm going to get a drink," I said. My toy soldier fan nodded and realised that he'd picked a looser. I pushed my way to the bar that was getting busier by the second. Did these people not realise it was a school night?