Authors: Diane M Dickson
After the food they settled down in the darkness, Samuel
stretched across the rear seat, as much as the confined space would allow, and
Sylvie curled in the front, covered with her coat. It was cosy with only the
distant swish of cars on the road and the patter of the rain on the roof…
When Sylvie opened her eyes it was still dark but the sky
was paler and she guessed it must be almost dawn. Samuel was outside, the
little stove was lit and the kettle was on, he was using a torch to find his
way around. She pushed open the door and jumped out into the damp and dreary
morning.
“Alright?”
“Mm, I slept well, surprised myself really. Did you?”
“Yes, no problem, I’m used to dossing down here and there.”
It was the first time he had given any sort of information
about his life and she waited to see if he would continue, but he turned back
to the rear of the car where he had opened the food box. He dragged out a box
of biscuits and offered her one.
“I think we can go for some breakfast in a little while, so
this is just a good morning sugar treat.”
“Thanks. Will it be okay, safe I mean?”
“Oh, I think so, the best thing we can do is just act
normally. Nobody here has any reason to look at us twice. Even when his mates
find Phil is missing and it shouldn’t be for a while yet, I don’t believe it will
cause us any problems. A low life like him, they disappear, nobody cares, some
people just breathe a sigh of relief and everyone carries on. Did he have
family, do you know?”
She shook her head, she wasn’t ready, not yet, oh please not
yet. Later today, she would tell him about herself, but when she had seen him,
through the car window, she had felt such a rush of warmth and she didn’t want
to spoil it.
She shivered now though in the damp air and Samuel walked to
the front of the Land Rover and dragged her jacket out, it still held some of
the night warmth and he draped it around her shoulders. She needed to pee and
she needed to clean her teeth. It was time to stop being so wimpy.
“I’m going in the bushes for a mo.”
He reached into the box and brought out a roll of kitchen
towel. She stared at him for a minute and then with a little giggle, part
embarrassment, part genuine amusement she tore off a piece and fought her way
through the shrubs bordering the lay by.
While she was gone he’d packed up the stove, but her cup
was still there, steam rising into the damp morning and she cupped her hands
around the heat. He had made them coffee and added milk and sugar, she didn’t
normally add sugar but the sweetness was comforting.
“We can drive into town this morning, for breakfast. If we
pick a fast food place we’ll be able to use their bathrooms for a quick wash
and stuff. Okay?”
She nodded at him. He was so very different from the way
she thought he would be. His size was intimidating and his previous surly
manner had been a bit scary. In the bar when she had first decided to approach
him, she had been a little afraid but the thought of easy money had made her
brave. Now though on this dim, quiet morning she saw a big man with a kind
manner. His thick, brown hair was touched with a little grey and his face was
rugged and weather worn. A shadow of stubble hinted at the beard that would
grow were he to give it a chance and above it the dark blue eyes twinkled now
and again as the moisture glinted in a stray gleam of light from passing cars
or his torch.
He had a calmness about him that was comforting and she
detected nothing but friendship in the way he was treating her. How could it
be, she had gone to hell and back in his presence and yet he was behaving as if
they were on any old road trip, almost a holiday.
He turned to her and as their eyes met, something, a
frisson, a connection passed between them. She had to turn away and her hands
had begun to shake. She gulped back the last of her cooling coffee and then
wiped out the plastic cup with more of the kitchen roll.
He packed away the last of their stuff, slammed the back
door and climbed into the driving seat. Sylvie was still shaken, she was sure
that in his eyes, she had seen something, a glimpse of feeling, just a hint of
softening and maybe even of desire.
She told herself it was the circumstances, nothing more than
a male, female interaction. She knew she wasn’t bad looking and was used to
blokes coming on to her, but him, now? She shook her head slightly, she
couldn’t deal with any more complications right now and there was still the
difficult conversation facing her. Once they had it, then probably the parting
of the ways would come very quickly. She slid into the car and closed her eyes
as the vehicle nosed its way back onto the main road and headed for the town.
“Samuel, can I explain about Phil? I don’t know what you
think, thought about us, him and me.”
“You told me he was your boyfriend, I saw a thug beating you
up. I think you should pick better boyfriends. You don’t need to tell me
anything. Your life is your concern.”
The sharpness of the answer brought tears to her eyes and
for a moment she simply sat quietly, willing them not to roll down her face. She
didn’t want him to know he could upset her so easily. After a minute she
cleared her throat and started speaking again.
“He wasn’t my pimp, I suppose you think that.”
She saw he was about to speak and raised a hand to still
him.
“We got it on now and again and he gave me money, but he
didn’t make me turn tricks, well not regularly. He did with quite a few
girls. The ones he supplied with drugs were stuck with it but not me. Now and
again there were friends.” She let it go now, she heard what she was saying
and saw it for what it was, feeble excuses for things that shamed her.
Samuel shook his head but now she had started it had become
vital that he understood.
“I was just getting by, in the flat and I met him and we
liked each other, well I liked him, whether he did or not, I don’t know.
Anyway for a while it was good, then he made me do things I didn’t want to and
so I decided to get out and so he started to hit me. For the last year I’ve
tried over and over to get rid of him but it was impossible.”
“Why didn’t you go and stay with your mum and dad?”
She took in a great breath and sighed.
“I couldn’t, my dad’s dead and I don’t know where Mum is,
don’t care, don’t want to know.”
“You said they moved to be near your gran.”
“I lied. My dad was a no good loser and my mum was
hopeless. I’m ashamed of them and I never tell people about them, the lies
just come out. I said stuff like that about them for so long now it feels like
the truth. My dad died in jail.
“I’m not like that though, I’m not Samuel. I know you
probably think I was on the game but I’m not. Okay I did think I could try and
lift some stuff from your house. Everyone seemed to think you were rich and I
thought if I gave you a good time then I could just take some stuff and it
would be fair. I didn’t though. I wouldn’t. Once I had spent some time with
you, you know, at your place. I wouldn’t have taken anything. I liked you, I
like you.”
By now she was sniffing and the tears which had been beaten
back earlier had breached her defences and she was wiping her streaming eyes on
the sleeve of her thin sweat shirt. He reached over and flipped the rag from
the dash board onto her lap.
“Okay.”
As he spoke she turned and looked up at him her eyes alight
with tears and hope and fear. It broke him up inside to see such raw emotion.
“Look, I woulda given you some money and don’t really care
what you intended to do. It all went down a different way anyway. I don’t want
to know about your parents, I know already what Phil was like, just don’t tell
me any more and don’t tell me any lies. Okay.”
She sniffed loudly, rubbed at her face with the piece of
cloth and again turned to him.
“You’re not going to dump me are you Samuel? please. I
don’t know what I’ll do now.”
“No, I’m not going to do that but no more lies. No more
stories about your past, it’s just that, yours I don’t want it.”
“Okay.”
He had turned into the car park of a McDonalds and as they
strode quickly towards the golden arches and the bright, greasy world of junk
food and normality she almost skipped. She had told him and he hadn’t thrown
her out. For now it was enough.
They sat together on tall stools in the window and watched
the day begin. No-one gave them a second glance and for a brief spell they
existed in the sane, normal, humdrum world as the rest of humanity.
Just before they began gathering the garbage and sliding
their feet from the stools onto the greasy floor she reached and took his hand,
squeezing his fingers.
“Thank you Samuel.”
He nodded, just once and then turned from her to head for
the men’s room and a quick wash. She followed and turned into the women’s
toilets where she did what she could with the liquid soap and the bits and
pieces of toiletries in her handbag. She felt better but wondered how long it
would be before she could have a shower and change her things.
They met back outside and in moments were on the road. Now,
though she felt a difference in his driving, he was more directed and more
specific about the roads he followed. It seemed now he had a destination in
mind. Something had happened yesterday to change his plans but she couldn’t
think what it might be and in truth all she wanted to do now was hand over her
future and simply be.
They shopped at a huge supermarket just off the motor way
and took the opportunity to buy a meal in the little cafe. It was dull, badly cooked
and tasteless but it filled their bellies and gave them the energy to keep going.
Sylvie had wondered if they were to share the driving but he simply kept on and
on, covering the miles. They chatted now and again about incidentals on the
route, but mostly they were quiet.
She was desperate to know where they were headed but he had
made it plain from the very beginning that he was travelling and she was along
simply because he allowed her to be. She’d packed her ipod in the bag which was
unreachable in the back, and anyway she didn’t think she could just sit and
listen to music with Samuel beside her quiet and focused on the driving. The
old car had a radio but he had made no move to turn it on and so she had
assumed it was broken or simply that he wanted quiet. She gave him quiet.
At times though, during the day she found the atmosphere and
her dark memories oppressive, twice she tried to talk about Phil. She thought
she needed to know what happened to him, to his body, after she had fled in
quivering panic through the early morning. Twice her words were stilled by a
glance from the man beside her and a shake of his head. He spoke of it briefly
just once.
“I dealt with it, it’s done. Now, all we can do is wait and
hope and the longer we wait the better it will be, so you need to push it to
the back of your mind. Don’t let it rule you.”
Now and again they would try to break the uneasy silence but
it was strained and perfunctory. So many miles together in the little cab for
two virtual strangers could be difficult in any case, but with the horrific and
tormented beginning to their relationship it seemed impossible to get things
onto an even keel. Like a great spectre between them, the memory of the sex
and then the violence and the fact that they had seen the best and the worst of
each other in quick succession had built a wall impossible to scale.
As the day drew on the dullness and monotony was soporific
and Sylvie let her thoughts drift. She was in a doze for a lot of the time,
lulled by the sound of the engine and the rocking of the big car. She was
jolted from her half dream as Samuel muttered to her.
“We’re nearly there now.”
The bald statement caused her stomach to flip with
excitement, she hadn’t known there was a “there” and so hadn’t taken in details
of their journey. They had passed through the Midlands and into Lancashire; she
had picked up clues in the road signs. Crewe, Nantwich, they were in Cheshire
she knew. Soon afterwards they skirted the great spread of the city of Liverpool.
They stopped on the outskirts of Preston and had a cup of coffee and toasted
buns at a roadside stall. From across the fields she had a glimpse of the
cupola on the buildings of the University of Lancaster. She was surprised; her
expectations of the north had been dirty towns, mean streets and factories. In
reality though there was green everywhere, neat little villages and signs of
affluence, especially as they‘d driven through Cheshire.
They drove around the flat sweep of Morecambe Bay with its
deadly sands and murderous tides and in the background against the great grey
sweep of cloud were the blue green hills of The Lakes.
It was gorgeous, there was water everywhere, rills, and
rivers, streams and of course lakes. The winding roads meandered through
little gatherings of houses, painted cottages with slate roofs and mile after
mile of stone walling. Undulating fells and dales were scattered with grubby
sheep and at times they would round a corner and the view of stream, cliff, lake
and woodland would simply take her breath away. She’d had no idea it was so
beautiful in this northern part of her own country and the wonder of it all
expunged for this brief time the misery of the last few days and the worry
about what would come next.
The high, wide sky was grey scudding cloud until every now
and again the sun would force a few beams through to spotlight a cliff top or a
sparkling, dancing stretch of water. She was mesmerised.
They passed Windermere and then after another half hour or
so wound down a narrow, one lane road between cottages with bright painted
doors that opened directly onto the street. Samuel was unhesitating, it was
obvious he was familiar with the area and knew exactly where he was heading.
He swung the car carefully around a tight bend, pulled into
the side and then reached into the back of the car. He dragged out his waterproof
jacket and shrugged it over his shoulders. It was difficult in the confined
space and she helped him, holding the sleeve so he could slide his arm into
it. She expected that he would jump down, perhaps he needed to pee. Once he
had the coat on though he just shrugged up the hood, pulling it forward over
his face. He drew back onto the road and drove a few minutes towards the
borders of the little hamlet. Almost at the edge of the village there were a
few modern houses stood back from the road in simple gardens. He reversed up a
narrow lane and then turned off the car engine and sat for a moment watching
through the window into the gathering dusk. When he was satisfied, with what
she wasn’t sure, he clicked open the door.
“Hang on here for a bit. If you see anyone coming just
keep your head down. I won’t be long.”
She nodded and watched him walk back the way they had just
driven. The evening air quickly chilled the interior of the car and she
dragged her own jacket over the seat back and shuffled herself into it. The
engine ticked and clicked as it cooled and the evening song of birds she
couldn’t name were the only other company. She waited, her nerves jangled and
her mind racing as she tried to guess just what was happening now. She had
handed her living over to this man totally in the last two days and she felt
adrift, floating unconnected, part of it was a peaceful feeling, like a child
letting others make the decisions. There was also the reality of worry and fear
about yet another ill thought out situation in her tumbled and chaotic young
life.