Faith In Love (7 page)

Oh here we are.  I can hear music now.  Quite a racket once you get up here.

Oh dear, there're only three people here, including me.  I was right about threes.  Oh yes, and a woman behind the bar.  Four.  A lot of noise.  Where's it coming from?  Oh, I didn't realise, there's a deejay, like that man said – in the corner.  It's so dark I couldn't see.  She's very energetic.  Never stops moving: snapping her fingers; doing little dance steps.  She should come out on the floor and do a turn.  Cheer us all up – all four of us. 

"What, two pounds fifty for a vodka and lime?  Oh, it's a double is it?  Is that automatic?  No, it's okay.  I just wondered.  Thanks very much.  Oh, could I have ice please?"

Is that expensive?  Not sure.  It's a long time since I bought myself a drink.  Don't drink often anyway, but I think you need to here.  It's all right though.  The music is lively enough.  That dance music stuff, hip-hop or whatever you call it that Carol plays all the time.  I don't mind it.  And the lights moving around ...  they're pretty.  I suppose the walls are black but it's so dark I can't be sure.  But, oh, somebody's dancing, just one woman, by herself.  Oh, this drink is strong.  Still, I've got a seat and a table to myself.  It's nice. 

She's quite a good dancer.  Moody, romantic.  Wouldn't have thought you could move like that to this sort of music, but she's doing a good job of it.  She's very thin.  Nothing to her.  She's got long hair though, which is more than I have.  Maybe I shouldn't have cut it.  Still, she's miles younger than me.  No more than twenty I should think.  I think you can get too old for long hair.  Mutton dressed as lamb. 

Now look, someone's come up to her!  Where did she spring from?  I didn't see her come in.  She's young too.  Very dark eyes.  Much shorter hair.  Shorter than some boys have it.  Suits her, though.  Makes more of her cheekbones.  She could be a model, that one.  Bit short though.  Have to be tall to be a model.  Oh she's put her arms round her now, and the one with the long hair is putting her head on her shoulder.  How sweet!  They're dancing very slowly now, more like rocking really, like babes in the wood.  Still seems to fit the music though.  Amazing really, this kind of music on Top of the Pops would have the audience jerking like puppets on a string: all twitchy and fast and robotic.  Funny thing, rhythm.  Oh look, they are sweet!  Amazing how good they look together.  Not at all odd, like you might expect.  A perfect combination.  No one steps on anyone's toes either, I've noticed that.  No galumphing great feet to keep out of the way of.  I wonder what brought them together this evening?  Were they drawn to each other like moths to a flame?  Did their glances meet across an
un
-crowded room?  (More likely they arrived together and one just came out of the loo!  Oh well.)

Suppose I could try dancing too.  No one to dance with.  More women here now.  It's funny how
un
nervous I am.  So long as they leave me alone, I mean.  Quite happy as an observer.  Won't dip my toe in the water just yet; let it flow by. 

Good Heavens, leather vest and leather jeans!  And muscles!  She must be freezing.  Be all right when it warms up though.  When more people are here.  I came a bit early I think.  Like Don used to.  Oops that's the drink talking!  Better get another one before the bar gets too crowded.  Everyone stands by the bar.  Quite a lot of people now.  Have to push through. 

"'Scuse please.  Oh sorry.  Did I spill your drink?  Sorry."

"S'alright, darling.  Squeeze past.  There you go."

Oh, the bar's all sticky.  I put my arm in it.  That woman was nice – the one in the leather trousers.  Very big, but friendly.  Called me "darling".  Well then, I probably look all right.

Probably ought to get two glasses while I'm here.  Save coming back.  Hope no one's taken my seat.  Left my jacket on it, just in case. 

They haven't, but there's two glasses on the table.  Other than mine, I mean.  Lager, I think.  Hate the stuff.  Don't like the smell – or the taste.  Bet it's cheaper than vodka though.  Some other women are dancing now, quite a lot of them.  Can't even see the deejay.  Or those two pretty women.  Wonder where they went?  The place is filling up now.  Seems a lot smaller.  I better not drink too fast, feel a bit hot.  Better take my jumper off.  Glad I put some deodorant on before I came out! 

Wonder where that woman is? 
My
woman!  Only joking, I know she's not mine.  Only want to
see
her really.  Maybe have a chat.  We're neighbours anyway.  Well, almost.  Neighbours ought to get to know each other, swap recipes and borrow cups of sugar.  Bit far to go, just for that.  Here, I mean.  But, where is she?  Surely she comes here?  It is the nearest place.  Probably would come with her girlfriend anyway.  The one the cake and the champagne were for.

Seems so long ago, now.  Only two weeks though.  Wonder if she liked the cake?  I wouldn't have.  Bit too sweet for my taste.  They put too much sugar in those things, but there you are.  It's what people want, even these days.  And the customer is always right, as they say.  Oh dear, someone's coming over.  It's old leather jeans!  But she's with someone, so that's all right. 

"Okay if we sit here?"

"Yes of course."

No "darling" this time, I notice.  Oh, well.  Well, they're good match too, I should think.  Neither one's got any hair to speak of and they're both loaded with silver rings and chains.  And, oh look, the little one's got a ring in her eyebrow.  How horrid!  That must really hurt!  I wouldn't do that if you
paid
me – too much of a coward for that kind of thing.  Oh now they're canoodling right in front of me!  How embarrassing!  And where is she putting her hands?  Better find something else to look at, quick.  They're both wearing leather of course, black, but the little one's in a sort of bra thing instead of a vest.  Looks quite cute really, quite pretty.  A little mouth with little red pouting lips.  Just a baby.  People here are so young.  Maybe that's why my woman's not here.  Maybe I shouldn't be either!  Is there somewhere special older women go?  Don't feel bad here though.  Should feel geriatric, but I don't.  Dutch courage I suppose.  Long as I've got my vodka I'm okay. 

Some more women coming in now.  Lucky I'm by the door else I'd miss her.  Such a crowd now.  Hard to make out who's who or what's what.  Booze and rhythm and swaying bodies; that's all it is now.  And fag smoke.  Enough to make your eyes water.  My clothes will smell awful after this. 

What can the time be?  Can't even see my watch.  Mustn't be late or Carol'll worry.  Maybe worry is too strong a word, but she might wonder what her old mum's been up to, which could be a bit hard to explain.  Maybe I should ask these girls the time?  No, perhaps not.  Best not interrupt them.  Probably wouldn't know anyway.  Heaven's, her tongue must be down her throat!  Time to go.  Or shall I have a dance, all by myself? 

Saved by the bell?  It's her!  I know it is!  Or is it?  Suddenly they all look the same to me.  It could be her; it might not.  It looks like the clothes she'd wear if she was out for the evening ...  but then ...Is she with someone?  So many women, I can't tell.  There she goes, straight for the bar.  What does she drink?  I don't even know.  Yes it is her.  For sure.  I'm scared now.  I forgot what I was here for.  What am I here for?  Calm down!  She doesn't know me.  It's all right.  Don't even have to speak to her.  I can just leave.  I will.  I'll go.  In a minute I'll get up and go.  In a minute I will.  I'll just sit here for now though.  I've still got most of a glass to get through.  Mustn't drink too fast.  Feel quite dizzy...  all of a sudden.

Where is she now?  Oh, still there.  Funny, she's not tall, but I can still make her out in the crowd.  She's turning round now!  Who's that with her?  Is she with her?  No, maybe not.  Not that it matters.  No, they're not talking.  Oh, there's someone now, a short dark girl.  Is she talking to her – the cake woman?  She's not very nice looking.  Quite fat too.  Young, though.  Surely my woman doesn't want young women?  Oh no!  I thought that before!  She was looking at a young woman when I first saw her.  I knew it – I'm too old!  Better leave.  I'll leave now!

No, I won't!  I came here for a reason and I'm going to do what I came here for.  I'm going to get up and go over to her and speak to her.  I don't care about her little young pudding friend, little fat lump.  If she's her lover, I don't care.  If I'm too old, I don't care.  I'll go over.  I'll speak to her.  I'll say who I am.  I'll have a chat, a neighbourly chat.  Then I'll leave.  And won't ever come back!  I'll take my glass and my jacket so I can go straightaway.  Leave the table to the lovebirds.

Right!  Now, before she disappears.  Oh, what a lot of people.  I feel so dizzy.  Think I stood up too fast.  Stand still a minute!  They've moved now.  Where are they?  Oh yes, over there.  Across the dance floor.  I can just make her out, her blonde head.  Is that other one there?  Can't see her, but she's smaller.  Shorter.  Probably still there, stuck like a limpet.  I'll push through.  It's the quickest way. 

"Oh!  Excuse me!  Sorry!  Can I–?"  Somebody trod on my toe.  Great big boots too.  It hurt!  I shoved her with my elbow.  Shouldn't have, but couldn't help it.  Made out it was an accident.  Didn't stop them dancing though.  She gave me such a look!  Not nice at all. 

Oh, here we are.  What a cosy threesome! 

"Hallo.  I'm Faith."

"Hi.  Have we met?"

Clear grey eyes.  Yes, I can see in this light after all!  Her hair is short and parted on the left.  She has one gold earring and a frown.  She is trying to remember who I am.  No chance, we've never met!  Better tell her.

"I sent you a Valentine card."  (Never meant to say that.)

"Sent?"

"Put it in the door.  Few weeks back."  

"Oh, it was you?"  The frown disappears. 

"I'm your neighbour, sort of."  (That's what I'd meant to say.)

"Oh you are."  She'd been staring at me.  Now she turned to the little woman who stood by her side.  "Faith, this is Louise.  And I'm Joan."

Joan.  Such an ordinary name.  Thought it might be something more remarkable.  Maybe just a surname, like Heathcliffe or Garbo or Rambo or something.  But no, an ordinary woman's name. 

"Hallo Joan," I said. 

Louise piped up then, "Catch you later!  Got to go!"  And she was off, onto the dance floor, lost almost immediately in the crowd.  

"What are you drinking, Faith?"

"Vodka.  Too much vodka," I said, feeling shaky on my legs.  I reached out for her arm, just to steady myself. 

She looked at me with alarm.  "You all right?"

"I've been waiting for you for hours."

"What?"

But I was gone. 

~ ~ ~

I woke up in a double bed.  Alone.  A clock on a table by the bed told the time in luminous green figures: four a.m.  I went back to sleep.  

Sunday, February 27

It was ten fifteen when I woke next.  I was starving!  The smell of frying bacon wafted into the bedroom.  I sat up in bed.  A small blonde woman stood in the open doorway. 

"Hi!  How are you this morning?"

"Oh.  How did I get here?  I don't remember." 

"You fainted, I think, sort of passed out.  I had to get a cab.  I didn't know your address, so I brought you home with me."

"Oh, no!  I'm really sorry.  What must you think of me?  Nothing like this has ever happened before.  You must think I'm awful.  It was really nice of you to take me in.  Where did you sleep?" 

"On the sofa.  No problem.  It's quite comfy.  It's a bed really, but I didn't bother to pull it out.  Just crashed out on it as it was."

"Were you tired too?"

"Knackered.  Shouldn't have gone out really.  Glad I did though.  Nice to meet new people!" 

"Really?  I should think I messed up your evening.  You hadn't been there long had you?"

"No.  But, well, same old faces.  Gets a bit stale sometimes.  Anyway, let's eat shall we?  Or do you want the bathroom first?  I can lend you some clean clothes if you want."

That's when I realised I was fully clothed, except for my jumper and shoes.  There they were, over in the corner by the wardrobe!  Where was my jacket, though?  Had I left it?  No, there that was too, on the back of a chair by the door!  I seemed to have managed to hang on to all my worldly goods by some miracle!  "Well, that's very kind of you," I said to my guardian angel.  "I would like a quick shower, if that's all right."

"I can put your stuff in the washing machine.  I've got a drier, too!  Be fresh as a daisy by the time we've had breakfast.  I'm assuming you don't have a hangover."

"I never do with vodka.  Not that I drink it that often.  To be honest, I'm very hungry."

"No problem.  There's plenty." 

~ ~ ~

So, she slept on the sofa.  Didn't take advantage of me.  Not sure what to think about that.  Not her type, perhaps?  Maybe she's a gentleman!  Oh, of course, I was forgetting, the girlfriend.  Not Louise though, presumably.  Now, where's the towel? 

This is a nice bathroom, better than mine.  Everything matches.  Avocado I think they call it.  And a nice big mirror.  Too steamy to see in, though.  That's good, too.  Can't see my bags.  Has she given me any clothes? 

"Hallo?  Here's something to wear just for now.  I think we're the same size.  Do you want to pass me your stuff?"