Laurieshook hands with Alison on the theatre steps.The rain had stopped,and a dull silver sunlight was struggling through the overcast.Hehad a hundred pounds in cash in his coat’s inner pocket, carefullyzipped up.Laurie had been known to go out partying with that muchcasually shoved into the back pocket of his jeans, in that otherworld, where money, from its very superabundance, had ceased tomatter.Alison said, “That lady who paid you is Mrs.Jacobs.Theyrun the whole concern, and they take everything very personally.This better not be some kind of weird con, Mr.Fitzroy.”
Lauriethought about it.He supposed he could, at a far stretch ofimagination, go and trot out his talents at the next venue, squeezeadvance wages from them too, and move on.God, it would be easierjust to mug someone.He smiled.“No.And call me Laurie,please.”
“Laurie.”Laurie watched her tuck a strand of hair behind herear and blush.What had he done to bring that on?He had kept hissternest mask in place till now, he supposed, a shield for fear anddisappointment.He could feel his own smile melting the ice.“Well,” the girl continued, helplessly smiling back at him.“Youhave to understand this is temporary.Mr.Jacobs runs everythingaboveboard, so…”
“I understand.”It had been a relief to Laurie to be able tohand over his Equity card, his one solid credential.He’d had itfor years, although he’d never got as far as using it.The oneproblem he’d never had till now was paying membership fees.“Justfor a couple of weeks, till I get myself turned around.I reallyappreciate it.”
“Okay.We’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow.And…we really doneed an address.”
“I know.”Laurie straightened his shoulders.“I’m going to getone now.”
* **
AndLaurie found his first accommodation as easily as his first job,and by much the same technique.It took much less time, which wasjust as well.The adrenaline wave he had unconsciously been ridingsince his audition was losing momentum, and whatever Mama Luna hadused to ease out the pain from his ribs was wearing off.He staredat the unpromising Victorian terrace for a long time beforecrossing the road to keep his appointment with the landlord, whosename and number he’d selected more or less at random from a boardin the café.There was a small and dingy park, whose bench wasapparently some kind of pickup point.Laurie had to fend off twoleering hopefuls before he could gather the courage and energy togo on.
Afterall, what the hell was he doing?He looked around the two-room flatin a daze, responding automatically as the landlord pointed out itsdubious assets.Convenient for bus and Tube.At the back of theblock, so shielded from road noise.Laurie smiled as an eastboundpassenger train shot by with a shriek on the tail of thisassertion, followed by a commercial one in the opposite direction.External charms were as good as it got.Otherwise, a grim, unlovedlittle space with peeling fifties wallpaper and nonvintagefurniture of the same era, saved from being a studio only by theafterthought bedroom wedged in at the back.The kitchen was atwo-ring gas hob, bathroom facilities shared down thehall.
And thiswas where he proposed to live.If asked, Laurie would have said hedid not depend upon the luxurious surroundings in which he had beenbrought up.His university digs were simple enough and smaller thanthis.
Theywere also clean, serviced once a day by college staff, andsurrounded by the sounds of bustling student life.This was areal-world dwelling place, where people who worked for a livinglaid their heads at night.This was the choiceless bareminimum.
No.Staring at a patch of sunlight on threadbare carpet, Laurie drew abreath.He was tired, that was all.A blanket on the steps of theHungerford Bridge was the bare bloody minimum, and Sasha hadsurvived that.This flat, bleak though it was, met all basic humanrequirements.It was on the third floor and had a view of wintrytrees across the railway line and telephone wires where starlingswere gathering in the fading light.He told the landlord he wouldtake it.
Thelandlord asked for references, two months down and a month’ssecurity.Laurie offered two weeks, and such character as could begleaned from his face and the clothes he stood up in.This time,walking down the stairs after the outraged refusal, Laurie was notat all sure what had brought the landlord running after him.He wasclean, he supposed, and not on welfare, and the rent he wasprepared to offer was in cash.He handed over all but twenty quidof his advance from the theatre and found himself abandoned on thefirst-floor landing with a set of keys in his hand.
He madehis way slowly back to the top floor and let himself in.Closingthe door behind him, he tried to feel some of the exultation he hadonce supposed would come with finding freedom.He leaned his backon the door.At the moment he was only cold.Well, there was alethal-looking barred electric fire on the far wall.That could behis first domestic triumph.He straightened up, and a strangemetallic thud resounded through the flat, like a fuse-box tripping.Glancing up, Laurie saw that his power, far from being included inthe rent as he had naively supposed, depended on the meter screwedover the door.Perhaps the landlord had shoved a pound coin into itfor the purpose of his viewing… Well, whatever, it had run out now,the meter’s dial flipped to red.He should have asked, shouldn’the?Caveat emptor—lesson one.Laurie felt in his pockets, but allhe had left was the twenty-pound note and a handful of silver andcoppers.
He wentand sank down on the sofa, which creaked beneath him and gave off asad scent of dust.Laurie put his head into his hands: for this, hehad walked out on his baby sister, whose safety he had swornhimself to guard?Had he honestly somehow thought he could bringher here?And that reminded him… He didn’t dare call the house, butthe staff had their own private phones in their quarters.PerhapsMrs.Gibson would have cooled off and relented: her number was onspeed dial on his mobile.
Whichhad run out of credit.Laurie stared at its blank little digitalscreen in disbelief.It didn’t really matter, of course, or neverhad done before—all he had to do was walk out of here, find a shopand top it up with his bank card, which he’d found in the pocket ofhis jeans that morning.He seldom checked his account.There wasalways a floating couple of hundred quid in there.Sir Williamdidn’t put him through the humiliation of asking for pocket money;his allowance, an unspecified but adequate amount, came in bydirect debit.
From thesame hands that had beaten him half to death the night before.Laurie fished the card out of his pocket, stared at it blankly fora minute, then snapped it in half.Briefly he considered slittinghis wrists with the pieces.Then he got up and left the flat,locking up carefully behind him.
At a pay phone across the road, he punched in Gibson’s numberand rested his aching brow on the metal while the line rang andrang.Christ, shehadgone.And no chance that poor little Hannah would have comeback, not after last night’s scene.What the fuck had he done?Cutting the line, he punched in Charlie’s mobile number and watchedin panic as the voice mail ate forty pence of the fifty he’d putinto the slot.Was that how much it cost from a landline?He’dnever had to count or care.The lessons were coming damn hard andfast now.Scrabbling in the depths of Sasha’s coat pocket, he founda twenty-pence piece and shoved that into the phone, mentallyadding it to the long tab he now owed him.He struggled to rememberthe number for Charlie’s quarters—he rang the mobile when he wanteda ride, didn’t he, never thinking about Charlie’s life outside hischauffeur’s uniform and duties?—and swallowed dryly in relief whenthe call was picked up on the second ring.“Charlie?It’s…it’s me,”he began and then felt so strange to himself that he addednervously, “Laurie.”
“Oh, thank God.Mrs.G wanted me to start ringing around thehospitals when you didn’t come home today.”
Laurierepressed a smile.He was ceasing to be surprised at the sources ofaffection and concern in his life.He decided he would not botherasking if his mother had been worried.“Is she still there, then?Gibson?”
“You know her.Bark’s worse than her bite.She’s put her noticein, but…” Charlie paused, and Laurie could almost hear him tryingto think of a tactful way to put it.“She knows the little girlneeds looking after.”
“Yes.Yes, she does.Thanks, Charlie.”
“So do you, son.Where are you?Do you want to be pickedup?”
Laurieclosed his eyes.The wind that had sprung up with the sunsetslipped its chilly fingers through the kiosk’s broken glass,mitigating briefly its stench of urine.Yes, he thought distinctly.Yes, come and get me.Lift off from my shoulders this deadweight ofadulthood.I can’t survive out here—take me back to my cage.Heheard, with weary surprise, his own weary voice declare, “No.I’mokay, thanks.I’m staying with friends for a few days, keep out ofhis way.”
“Not a bad idea.He’s away, actually, until the middle of nextweek, so…” Charlie hesitated, and Laurie listened with a pang ofsympathy to the things he was trying not to say.So you probably won’t be missed.So you don’thave to worry about Clara until then.“Areyou sure you’ll be all right?The old bastard made a mess ofyou.”
“Yeah.Yeah, fine, Charlie.”Laurie watched the last fewpennies of the last coin count down, felt them draining from himlike blood.He didn’t want him to hear the beeps, to get cut offmidsentence.“Bye,” he said softly and hung up.
Somehownight had fallen between the start and the end of the call.Laurieshoved the kiosk door open and half fell out into a streetbelonging to the city that had been his home all his life—and whichfelt to him entirely alien and hostile now.He saw that the longterrace facing his, with its array of shabby shops andlaunderettes, would block out daylight early every night, bringdown the night too soon.Blank-faced strangers strode past him.Someone else wanted the pay phone; he felt himself shoulderedaside, and he subsided on the low wall that bordered the park,grasping at its iron railings.His mouth was dry, heart thumping.He had the number to Gunari’s mobile, his one frail link to Sasha,but that would mean going into a shop with his twenty-pound noteand buying something to get change, and just at present this simpleplan felt beyond him…
“Laurie?”
Lauriejerked his head up.He felt the odd inner clash in his skull,between wanting something desperately and finding it near tohim—within arm’s reach, almost, dodging through the crowd Lauriehad suddenly found impenetrable.“Sasha,” he whispered, mouth toodry to give the word sound.The most beautiful bloody sight in theworld, dark eyes seeking him out as if somehow he was too.Lauriedragged up a smile and scrambled to his feet.“What are you doinghere?”
“Finished my shift at the wash.It’s just around the cornerfrom here.”He took Laurie’s arm and guided him out of the rush onthe pavement, into the park, and onto the bench Laurie now felt hecould occupy in safety and contentment forever.“And I knew youwere booked to see that flat, so I came this way to see if I’d bumpinto you.God, Laurie, sit down.You look awful.You didn’t get it,then?”
