Friday reading
Deb weighs her choices when she gets another offer of a place to go after she leaves the squat.
A few weeks later PJ finagled the key to a mate’s flat, in return for a bottle of whiskey. Mike was a night security man in a bank so his place was free from seven in the evening to seven in the morning. I felt weird and self-conscious stripping off in front of PJ. Me and Fogo were never so open. With him it was usually a quick fumble with flies and straps and a roll – or a half a roll – somewhere dark.
PJ was nice, caressing me, trying to make me feel less self-conscious. He was very tall with straggly reddish hair and a bit of a beard. He was even nicer with his kit off, although I wasn’t going to tell Bev about that. His skin was very white, his long arms and legs sprinkled with freckles, and his body hair was gingery too, so that when the light caught him in a certain way he looked kinda golden all over.
He didn’t ask any questions, except whether I was on the pill. When I said no he produced a pack of condoms. More than Fogo ever did. And so there we were in his mate’s bed, like a real couple. After my first shyness it all seemed so natural and easy. That was how he made me feel, comfortable and confident for the first time in my life. He filled my heart, as we had known one another forever. And, yes, the rest was good too. He knew what he was at!
One night as we lay half-dozing in the post-coital lull he said he was thinking of going to Germany. He’d been in England five years and he was tired of it.
When? I asked and burrowed closer into his armpit, still musky and warm.
I don’t know. Maybe in the summer. A mate of mine is over there. He says the money’s good. Better than here. You could come with me. He rolled onto his side to face me, one hand brushing the hair off my forehead.
I looked into his eyes, which held my gaze, thinking, I could do that. Forget about everything here and go. Make a completely new start in a different place. But that wasn’t what I said.
We have to leave the squat soon, I told him. They’re going to demolish it. Daff says.
Yeah, he said. That would’ve been my next job if I’d’ve stayed here. Working on that site. So, are you coming with me? He took my hand. Come on. It’ll be a bit of craic. We can always move on if we don’t like it there.
I shut my eyes, trying to picture us getting on the Magic Bus and waking up three days later in Germany. I saw us being carried through the days and the nights, down long motorways, past alien fields and towns. The light and dark of it flickered before me. The only thing I knew about Germany, aside from it being divided, was that they made pencils in the Black Forest.
How will we even talk to people? I asked, raising my hand and spreading it against his larger one. Warmth rippled through me from his body.
They speak good English. And we can learn German. He curled his fingers down between mine, uniting our hands. C’mon, he urged. It’ll be an adventure.
I gripped his hand tight. I would need every last bit of my strength to make that journey. Daff is looking for people to go to Greenham Common with her, I said.
What does she want to go there for?
The protest. You know, against the cruise missiles.
She’s mad. The police will break up that camp and drive the whole lot of them away. Then where will you be?
I shrugged. I hadn’t thought beyond moving out of the squat, bar staying with the wimmin, or some of them.
Moyra had told me she couldn’t afford to drop out of college. She was ambitious and needed her degree to get ahead. Insects were her thing. I thought it was a joke at first but when she started talking about them she made them sound like the most fascinating creatures in the world. According to her, cockroaches will inherit the earth and there’s a whole life going on around us that we ignore until we swat a fly or spot a ladybird. She was going to move in with a few of her classmates when we were forced to leave the squat. She said she might come up at weekends to join the protest and hang out with us.
Emily was still humming and hawing about coming with us. Bev was a flat out no-go. Moyra’s yoga buddy, Hannah, who drifted in occasionally for a few weeks at a time, then drifted out, no one knew where, was considering joining us. Occasionally. It was beginning to look like it would just be me and Daff at the camp.
Don’t worry, chuck, she said, seeing the disappointment in my face. There’ll be plenty of new folk to meet. We’ll be a strong community, all of us together for one purpose.
I nodded without replying. There was still time to go to Germany with PJ. It would be Christmas soon and he didn’t plan to leave until his job was over, sometime in January. He was going to start in Frankfurt where his mate said they were looking for builders. More fucking banks, he laughed. If that didn’t work he’d head to Dusseldorf. He was sure I’d pick up a job in a bar.
But then I’d never see you, I said. You’d be working all day and I’d be working at night.
I’m glad you’d want to see me, he smiled and kissed me deeply. You could get work in a café. They love coffee and cakes over there. Or in a factory.
At a conveyor belt? I pulled a face.
It’d only be for a few years. Until I have the money together to go home and start my own business.
So he had a plan too. Like Moyra. I had no plans, and that made me feel stupid and lonely. I lowered my head and said, I can’t go. Not yet. I need to—
This business with your da, he followed my unspoken thought. It’s not good you know.
What do you mean? I have a right.
Yes and no, he sighed. If the man is your father. That is.
I sat up. What? You think my mam was lying? Or that she doesn’t know who my da was? Is that what you mean? I pulled away from his embrace and drew my knees into my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
He reached over and tried to prise my arms from my knees but I wouldn’t let go. He dropped his hands and knelt in front of me. That’s not what I’m saying, Deb. I’m saying either the fella walked out on you and your mam, or she threw him out. Either way, that means he’s no good. And he likely doesn’t want to be found. I’d be worried if I was you, Deb. His face turned grave and sad. He could hurt you.
My head sank onto my knees again as I hunched my shoulders tight, trying to curl into a tiny ball. I didn’t want to hear the truth of PJ’s words. His concern pierced me yet I had no ready answer for him.
Deb, he laid his hand on my head. Deb? Are you okay?
I nodded to myself, rocking back and forth.
He moved away and I could hear him running the shower.
I slid off the bed and went to join him under the weak, tepid spray.
He washed me like a baby, kissing all the soft places he could reach. Until the moment the hot water ran out. Then with a bloodcurdling yell he sprang out of the cubicle. I wasn’t long after him. We briskly towelled one another dry, dressed and left the flat.
Before we parted that morning, he to the building site, me to the caf, he hugged me close and said, I’m sorry if I upset you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.
I pressed my head against his broad chest and mumbled, It’s okay. It’s something I need to do. Then I pulled back and looked up at his wide kind face and said, Don’t worry about me. Anyway I might never find my da. So the worst might never happen.
Go on, he said. I’ll see you later.
I wish you all the very best for the holidays. Enjoy them, whatever you get up to and wherever you are!