River: A Bad Boy Romance (13 page)

“Because everybody's got to end up somewhere”, Maddy says.

“I think
you
need a destination, but you and I are different people, Maddy. I go where the wind blows and where the money takes me.”

“You don't have any responsibilities?” Maddy asks.

“I don't need them”, River says. “I like having my freedom.”

“And where has having your freedom brought you?”

“Right to the very edge, and I'm still going”, River says smiling. “Like a feather in the wind.”

“But for how long?”

“For as long as I need to.”

River guzzles down the last few drops of his beer. His stomach is growling, and he can't wait to eat.

“It isn't very fast for fast food”, Maddy says.

“You know you can be funny when you make an effort”, River says.

Just then, the waitress comes over with their order. The burgers are massive, and would be enough alone without the rest of the side dishes. The dirty fries are a stack of fries, pulled pork, blue cheese, cheddar, jalapeño peppers and minced beef, all moulded together into the shape of a mountain, and there are so many onion rings, they can barely fit on the plate.

“Can I get you folks anything else?” the faultlessly cheery waitress says.

“You can get me another beer”, River says.

“Two?” the waitress says, looking at Maddy. She nods her head and the waitress smiles.

“Just one beer?” River asks her, when the waitress has gone.

“I'm thirsty”, Maddy says, by way of an explanation, her water there in front of her, but still untouched.

Their table is full of so much food, River doesn't know where to start. His eyes have lit up like the lights on a Christmas tree. Eventually he lifts his gigantic burger to his mouth, careful not to drop too much on the way, and takes a bite so big, he can't help but cover his face in guacamole and barbecue sauce. It is quite simply the best burger he has ever tasted.

“Oh my God”, he says, with his mouth full and his eyes closed. “That's incredible. Oh my god, Maddy, you have to try this. You're going to love it.”

The waitress comes back with the beers. She laughs at River's enthusiasm, and tells him to slow down in case he chokes. The burger in front of Maddy looks more enormous than anything she's ever seen in her life. The last time she ate food like this was over ten years ago, and so long ago now that the memory in her head has become a little bit muddled. Although she remembers the meal, she doesn't remember if she liked it or not.

“It's not going to eat itself, Maddy”, River says.

“You promised me you wouldn't call me that.”

“Look, I know you're hungry. Just take a bite. If you don't like it, don't eat it, but I bet you dinner tomorrow that you will.”

“Dinner tomorrow?” Maddy says. “What makes you think that the police won't have caught you by then?”

“Because I'm an optimist”, River says.

“If I eat it, will you let me choose?” Maddy asks.

“If you eat it, I'll even let you pay”, River says and takes a swig of his beer.

“I think I am anyway”, Maddy says.

“Come on, I worked for it too.”

Maddy looks at the burger again. She looks at it from the top and from the side, and then carefully removes the bun top, and looks at the contents inside. She picks up her fork, pushes the burger around the plate, picks up her knife, and tries to work out the best way to attack it.

“You want some advice?” River says.

“Don't worry, I'm doing it”, Maddy says. “I'm going to try it. Just don't blame me if it makes me irritable.”

“I don't reckon there's much farther to go in that department”, River says and Maddy glares at him.

“Look, just pick it up. Don't worry about making a mess. Just pick it up, get as much of it into your mouth as possible, forget about all of your hang ups and your worries and your idiosyncrasies, and just enjoy it. If it spills, clean it. If you get it on your T-shirt, wash it. Just don't forget to enjoy it, you never know when you'll get the same pleasure again.”

“I know how to eat”, Maddy says.

“I don't reckon you do”, River says. “You're looking at that burger like a detective examines a crime scene. You want me to help you out?”

“No”, Maddy says. “I'll do it, just give me time.”

While Maddy literally gets to grips with her burger, River ploughs into the mound of fries, watching this strange performance take place in front of him, the burger seemingly as alien to Maddy, as an alien would be to everyone else. Eventually she gets her hands underneath the bun, and expertly manages to get it to her mouth, without losing too much of the contents. She takes a small bite, chews, swallows, takes another, does the same, takes a third, a fourth and a fifth, and doesn't stop going until more than half of the burger has gone, and she eventually has to put it down to rest both her arms and her mouth. She takes a swig of beer, cleans an already clean set of lips with a napkin, and smiles at River. The almond flecks in her eyes even sparkle.

“It's nice”, Maddy says, before continuing her feast, eating until the whole burger has almost entirely gone.

“Bread and meat?” River says, when eventually she looks like she's done. Maddy can't remember ever eating a better meal.

“Bread and meat”, Maddy says. “I think the secret is in the sauce.”

She laughs, and River laughs with her. Her second beer is almost empty, and she feels quite light headed. She doesn't drink often, and whenever she does, she's careful to control her intake, careful never to lose control. She can feel that control slipping away a little now, and instead of being scared of it, like she expected herself always to be when it finally confronted her, it actually feels like quite a relief.

There's still a mountain of food in front of them, and the onion rings look like they've barely been dented, but both River and Maddy are sated now, and can't possibly eat anymore. The waitress comes over to clean the table and asks them if they'd like anything else, to which they both shake their heads, and laugh, stunned that she would think they could fit anything else in.

“I've got to ask you”, she says. “You'd be surprised how much folks eat in here, and then pile in a tonne of ice-cream afterwards, like it goes into a second stomach.”

When she's gone, and the table is clean again, River leans back and lights up a cigarette.

“Feel better?”, he says.

“Yes. Thank you”, Maddy agrees.

They sit there in silence for a while, River smoking and watching Maddy, while Maddy watches the rest of the restaurant, conscious of his eyes on her, and trying her best to avoid them.

“What?” she eventually says.

“Nothing”, River says. “Just trying to work you out, Princess, that's all.”

“Work me out? I thought you'd already done a pretty good job of that.”

River pulls on his cigarette. “You want to go on somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else where?” she says to him.

“A bar.”

“To drink?”

River blows smoke into the air above him.

“To get to know each other better”, he says.

“You think I want to do that?”

“I think you're on the edge looking in. I think you're enjoying yourself and you're ready to let yourself go. It could be a step in the right direction for you.”

“And you're going to hold my hand and lead me there?” Maddy asks.

“If you want to put it like that, then yes”, River says.

“You don't think it's a little risky being outside at all?”

“Why does that worry you? If we get caught, I go to prison and you get to go home.”

“So why are we here?” Maddy says.

“Because that might happen anyway, and if it does, I want to have had fun on the way there, instead of hiding out in a shitty motel room flicking through repeats on cable TV. Besides which, I want to get to know you.”

“This isn't a date”, Maddy says seriously.

“And here I was thinking you were sweet on me”, River says.

“That's funny.”

“I'm glad you find me amusing”, River says. “The ability to make someone laugh is a likeable quality. I read that in a magazine once.”

“It depends on the joke”, Maddy says, deadpan.

“So what do you say?”

“I want to know why you are really doing it.”

River leans in.

“Maybe I'm sweet on you”, he says and leans back, as though he's just shared a secret. Maddy isn't convinced it's anything but badly glossed shtick.

“I don't think you're sweet on anything but money”, she says.

“Well why don't we find out?”

“We get caught, it's not my fault”, Maddy says.

River puts out his cigarette, blowing the final cloud of smoke into the air above him.

“If we get caught then it'll be a first date to remember”, he says.

“We're not on a date”, Maddy reminds him.

“Then there's no reason for you not to accompany me.”

“I don't get a choice, I'm the hostage remember”, Maddy says, her arms folded.

“If you want to see it like that.”

“How else am I meant to see it?”

“You're not in handcuffs anymore are you”, River says. It's a statement rather than a question.

“Then let me walk out of here”, Maddy says.

“I'm not stopping you.”

Maddy looks through the windows of the restaurant at the world outside. She has no idea which town they are in, and it hasn't occurred to her to ask.

“If I try and leave, you'll shoot me. Isn't that what you said before?”

“I've changed my mind”, River says. His arm is rested on the moulded, fixed-in plastic chair next to him in complete contrast to Maddy's closed body posture.

“Why?” she says.

“Because I think you have too”, River says.

He takes out his papers and tobacco and begins to roll another cigarette.

“Why would I believe that?” she says.

“Why wouldn't you?”

A moment of silence passes, while River licks the gum of the cigarette paper, turning paraphernalia into finished product. For some reason, Maddy remembers a time in her life when she was happy. She's playing hopscotch with a friend, her mother is there, sat on a bench and watching her. It's snowing, and she can't be more than four years old.

“I don't agree with what you did”, Maddy says, eventually unfolding her arms and laying them on the table in front of her. “With what you do.”

“You think that what someone does defines them?” River says. The cigarette placed behind his ear now, ready to smoke at a later date.

“I don't know”, Maddy says. “If you do something for long enough, maybe it does.”

“How long is long enough?”

“I think you'd have to rely on someone else to tell you that”, Maddy says, turning over her hands and looking at them, as though they weren't her own or she'd seen something in them she'd not seen before.

“Someone who knows you well enough?” River says.

“Somebody like that, yes.”

“And what if you don't have enough time to get to know someone?” River asks.

“Well then I guess you'll never find out”, Maddy says. She looks up from the table and into River's beautiful blue eyes. A feeling, so alien to her that she almost doesn't recognise it, begins to invade her thoughts, until confusion and fear push it away again, and she looks back down to the table, a single tear drop railing down her cheek.

“Come on”, River says after a moment for his own feelings to sink in, “let's get out of here before someone recognises your face, or even worse, my arms.”

They pay the bill and head back out onto the street, where the last of the day's light is just about hanging in the sky. As they walk, no particular destination in mind, a sense of freedom unlike anything Maddy has ever experienced before begins to dawn on her. River wraps his arm around her shoulder, hugging her tightly to his chest against the cold, and she doesn't stop him. It feels both natural, and like pretty much the best thing that has ever happened to her.

Frank peers inside the microwave suspiciously. There's a coating of grease on the window from several years of use, and not a single moment of cleaning. His dinner turns ominously, every now and again the plastic lifting up at the corner, so it appears to be winking at him.

“You'll fry your brains if you stand that close.”

The young female officer smiles at him, warming her hands on a mug of coffee. It's not someone Frank has had the pleasure of meeting before.

“That's what they say huh?” Frank says. “Your noodle for your noodles.”

The female officer laughs. “Something like that”, she says. “Of course, you don't have to stare at it to make it go round.”

“I like to keep an eye on them”, Frank says.

“So they don't get away?”

“Something like that”, Frank says.

The microwave pings. The female officer places her cup in the sink. “Enjoy your dinner, Frank”, she says to him and leaves too quickly for Frank to ask for her name.

Like everything else that comes out of a microwave, Frank's dinner has been heated to a temperature of approximately a thousand degrees. He burns his fingers putting the plastic dish onto a plate, and burns them again taking off the thin plastic lid. Back in his office, he has to wait five minutes for his dinner to cool down, by which time the temperature has dropped from surface of the sun to stone cold stodge. It may cook things quickly, but those things never retain heat for long enough. If his mother was alive and could see him, she'd smack him on the side of the head for eating something that looks like it's come out of a bin. At least he had pasta for lunch. At least he hasn't been a completely bad Italian.

Frank washes his noodles down with a large gulp from a half mug of scotch and milk, and two antacid tablets the size of horse tranquilizers, which he has to break in half to swallow. On his computer, he watches in close detail, the mobile phone footage from the bank robbery earlier that day. He zooms in as best as he can to River's balaclava covered face, but no matter which angle he looks at it from, it's all just a mess of pixels, and blocks of grey.

“Who are you?” he says, and knocks back the rest of his whisky milk cocktail, while River's grey eyes stare at him challengingly, locked behind the curved glass of the TV screen.