‘What about you?’
‘Oh. I lost my job. Well… lost is the wrong word.’ She scrunches her nose, like the words smell bad. ‘It’s still there, but someone else is doing it. I wasn’t the right fit. I’m going to try something different.’
‘Different?’ I ask. The street light flickers as we pass.
‘I like history and research. There’s something so appealing about the past, you know?’ She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. ‘The lives that are long forgotten, lost loves, lost stories… I like the idea of bringing them back to life.’
I don’t say that being with her feels like that, that she’s bringing me back to life. Christ, I must be more pissed than I thought.
‘I like dates too. Numbers, maths…’ She trails off.
‘It’s just up here,’ I point to the phone box, and lead us across the road and round the corner.
She takes hold of the door with an ‘Ooof!’
‘Here.’ I move my arm around her and pull the door open with a yank. Her hair grazes the side of my cheek, brown eyes sparking. ‘How gallant. Thanks. I wonder why they make them so hard to open? This thing weighs a ton.’ She looks at the phone, leans in and drags a finger down the adverts for taxis andlifts the receiver, crooking it on her shoulder. I let the door close behind her, turning away, digging my hands in my pockets. The door opens again with a squeak.
‘Sorry, but I don’t suppose you’ve got—’ she looks back at the phone, squinting slightly ‘—a few 10p’s do you? I’ve not got the right coins.’
‘Oh, yeah, sure.’ I dig my hand in my pocket and bring out some change, passing it to her.
‘Thanks.’
I lean against the wall, trying and failing not to take surreptitious glances at her. She’s biting her lip as she slots her finger into the dial. Her eyes flick up to mine and she smiles, her head tilted slightly, before her attention is brought back to the phone. She begins talking quickly, then looks through the glass and nods, hanging up. She tries another number.
‘Any luck?’ I ask as she steps out of the phone box.
‘Nope. Honestly, you’d think there’d be more than one cabby about after midnight. Do those always smell that bad?’ She angles her head back to the phone box.
‘Piss and despair?’
‘Yeah, that’s exactly what it smells of.’ She looks back at the phone box. ‘Well… That’s that then.’
I look back up the road as she leans against the wall.
‘We could go back to the club? It’ll be open for another hour, I reckon.’
She shakes her head.
‘There’ll be another bus in the morning. The factory bus comes through at half five. Goes on to the main depot after drop offs.’
‘Morning’s a long way off.’
I look at my watch. ‘Not that long…’
She chews the inside of her cheek, her lip quirking upwards. ‘Was there a chippy down the road?’
‘Aye. Stays open till after last orders.’
‘Fancy a bag?’
‘Sure.’ I nod. ‘I’m starving.’
We head towards Pete’s and order a bag each. Alice straightens the bottles of tomato sauce so that they’re all facing the front. ‘There.’ She grins at me. ‘Much better. What?’ she asks. ‘I like things to look orderly.’
I hold up my hands. ‘No judgements here.’ I think to the way my paints are stacked on my shelf, all front facing. She leans forwards on the counter as Pete scoops the chips onto the paper. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any salad cream, have you?’
He pauses and looks at her like she’s just asked for a T-bone. ‘You see any salad here?’ He shakes his head and she grimaces at me.
