Even with the diminished brightness, the screen is still too much for my eyes to take in. I wince as I swipe to accept the call, my sight having adjusted in time to see that it’s not Mum or Nicol – it’s Brian. My blood turns to ice. I’ve messed up somewhere and he knows where I’ve been and what I’ve done. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The phone trembles against my ear. ‘Hello?’ My body is in full fight-or-flight mode already, this is no sleepy greeting.
Brian, however, is whispering. ‘Awright?’
‘Not really, it’s’ – I pull the phone from my face to look at the time – ‘it’s quarter past five in the morning and my boss is waking me up.’
If Leanne is tracking his phone, she’s tracking his car too, probably, and I’m an idiot for not considering it. Or I was too conspicuous in the gym, too pleased with being body positive and not enough with being presence negative.
‘It’s about Leeds.’
‘Why are you calling me in the middle of the night about goddamn Leeds?’ In the office, my desperate need to cling onto regular paid employment means I am never anything but smooth and pliable. Being pulled from sleep before I was ready has exposed my sharper edges. ‘This could have waited until proper morning, surely?’
‘Actually, it couldn’t. You’re coming with me, and the train to Motherwell’s at half seven. I thought you’d appreciate a little notice to pack and organise yourself beforehand.’
‘No, I’m not coming.’
‘You’re right, that was rude. I didn’t properly extend an invite. Let me try again. Will you please come to Leeds to help me? Double pay?’ Despite loving money I do not immediately agree. ‘You know how complicated things can be on my side. This lassie I’m taking away, she’s starting to get a bit miffed about being the other woman, thinks this trip is a good chance for us to experience life as a normal couple. Anyway, I told her I’d need to check in with Leanne while we’re away and she’s raging in a way that makes me worried she might do something to force my hand. I know this is all quite inconvenient, but if you think about it, this is actually a real compliment to you. During work hours I’m covered by your wonderful commitment to the role. Suffering the absence of you in the mornings and evenings is when things go wrong, phone left in the wrong places, Leanne getting a hint of things being up. So you see, I need you to help me get things back in order. I’ll pass you the phone on the train then put you up in the same hotel as me overnight. We swap back on the train home. Happy days. No one’s upset with me.’
‘I can’t say I’m delighted with you.’
‘I get that, I do, but who can say no to a snazzy hotel, double pay, plus one hundred pounds cash in hand for expenses?’
Brian’s infuriating because he is a twat, but he is very good at winning a woman over. I haven’t left the Central Belt of Scotland for a good eight months, not since me and Nicol spent a weekend in a lodge next to some loch to gaze at the water and the hills in between having sex as many times as we could to feel like we got our money’s worth. Escaping to new lands, even if it is only Leeds, is appealing.
I sigh before I give my acquiescence. ‘Fine, that sounds agree-able.’
‘Of course it does. I’ve already emailed you your train ticket and hotel details. Do not approach me on the platform or the train or anywhere else. I’ll come to you.’
The platform at Hamilton Central is busier than I’d have expected for this time of day because the train before the one I’m getting was cancelled. Still, it’s not hard to spot Brian, his tan especially luminous when surrounded by normal, natural-skin-toned folk. He’s talking to a blonde lady whose back is to me when I first spy them. He catches me looking but doesn’t hold my gaze. When our train arrives, he kisses the woman like he’s going off to war, and it’s only then I see this is not the fancy piece but Leanne. He grabs her arse so fully I imagine how her flesh will sting afterwards, then jogs onto a different carriage to me.
When we’re safely out of Hamilton, he makes his way through the train to find me, hands me the phone and the money he promised as he walks by like we’re doing a drug deal. No pleasantries; he’s the front of the train to get to. At the next station, a woman who is almost identical to Leanne is waiting for him, her little trolley case by her side that he helps her get on board with like a gentleman.
The cold hard cash I put into my purse gives me an enthusiasm for dealing with Leanne that I lack almost every other day. Getting off at Motherwell to change to the next train, I take a picture of the station sign and send it to her alongside:
I miss you already x
While I’m waiting on the third train I keep her updated with:
47 minute wait for the Leeds train, absolute joke!
Two banal images in a day would be most unlike the version of Brian I play normally, but I decide it is acceptable on a long journey and also because the man himself and his lover are in the Starbucks and have sat in the optimum position to be in the background of the shot I take of my coffee. They’re not in focus but they’re there if you look for them. Here, Leanne, is all the information you need.
She responds within two minutes.
Aww poor baby. Hope the journey doesn’t drag too much x
I tried.
Packing while still half asleep meant I neglected to bring a book or my headphones, and then the wifi on the train was rotten and the phone signal kept dipping, which all means, as I stand on the concourse of Leeds station, putting the address of the hotel into my map app, that I’ve had too much time to think. As the train moved further away from Hamilton, it added a distance to the events of last night, allowing what happened to take on an air of unreality. By the time I’m checking into the very swanky hotel, I start to wonder if it even happened. Regret is forming about inviting Nicol over. The discussion with him cost me reflection time and I realise now that rerunning and considering what I’ve done in the hours afterwards is an important part of my process.
The hotel room is very dark and moody and I can see why Brian fancied it for a night away. It is the ideal amount of light for sex: enough to see one another while not having all of your flaws fully illuminated. The door slams behind me and I message Leanne.
Checked in ok, off to my meetings now. Have a nice day sexy bum x
Then I chuck the phone on the bed and wash my hands and face to get the sheen of travel off me. As I dry myself on the soft hotel towel, I realise I have the best part of a whole day to fill and no clue how to do so. My phone is almost dead from the journey. I put it on to charge and take my shoes off before lying down on the cool, crisp, airy duvet, careful not to get too comfy. I can’t piss the day away sleeping. To ground myself, make sure I don’t fall asleep, I pull up Pete’s episode ofFixer Upperson Brian’s phone.It’s reassuring to see him there on screen. Confirmation that he did exist reminds me that he no longer does.
After I’ve watched him, YouTube automatically plays me another episode. This time it’s a woman in Brixton who’s a unicorn as she’s bought a one-bed flat to live in herself. Then there’s a man called Ron Robbins who, despite his old man name, is only in his thirties and buys a sweet cottage in a place called Cawood to rent out, taking scarce rural properties and charging a premium for them. Boo to Ron. It turns out Cawood is not a million miles from Leeds, but it’s too far to venture today; I don’t have the energy. Maybe I don’t need it, though. Ron has a restaurant in Leeds city centre; Malcolm does a little link from it with a glass of water and an uneaten full margherita pizza on the table in front of him and everything. By the time we reach the part of the show where Ron looks smug with his valuation of a monthly rent of £2,200, my growing hatred for him makes me feel comforted and, in turn, sleepy. My head sinks into the candy floss pillow. A little nap would do me good.
Does it, though? Who can tell. I wake from turning in my sleep and the pressure of my cheek on the pillow shoots pain through my entire face, into my eyeballs, down my neck and to the top of my spine. Under the clinical light of the magnifying shaving mirror in the bathroom, I prod and examine my face. It’s swollen, tender, a splash of purple has appeared under the skin beneath my eye and around it is a light-yellow tinge.
