Chapter One

Sitting on the bus watching the rain trickle down the window, I could tell today was not going to be my day. The grey skies were covering everything I could see with a gloomy and dirty appearance. I could hear the rain hitting the top of the bus and smell the wet grass through the window. I gently leant my head against the harsh, cold glass and passed my eyes over the other people on the bus.
At the back of the bus was a couple. You could tell they were still relishing in the delight of a new relationship by the way they stared into one another’s eyes, unaware of anything but the person before them. I longed for that freedom, that love. I watched as he gently ran his finger along her jawbone and how the smile took over her face. I watched as she fumbled around in her purse, without taking her eyes off him once, and occasionally blinked with such a sense of reluctance.
Suddenly I felt awoken and a feeling of reality swept through my body. Instinctively I knew it wouldn’t last. I couldn’t bear to look any longer and I turned away, back to the gloom of the outside world. I could still hear the spurts of laughter as he told her some joke he would have told so many women before her. I wanted to turn back and shout, shout something, but the words would not come. Surely they knew the path of suffering that lead before them: the cheating, the lying, the loss of love, the betrayal. Finally the time would come when they separated and left a mess of sadness and destruction behind them. It was inevitable, never is someone lucky enough to find a decent man, let alone a man like this that will love you.
I fought back the tears and tried to block out the noise, it was getting too much. The bus, the rain, the laughter. Finally I couldn’t take it and I pressed the button for the bus to stop. I stood by the door, impatient to get off. Finally the bus came to a standstill and I leapt off, breathing a sigh of relief as my feet hit the wet ground and the bus moved on. Unknowing of where I was, I began to walk down the road, kicking at the puddles on the floor with each step. I heard a distant roaring and ignored it till I heard the approaching splashing. I turned and saw a large lorry coming up the road, slowly my eyes ran down the road and I saw the puddle beside me. I ran on, not in the mood for getting soaking wet from my head downwards. The lorry passed spraying some water over my feet, as they were already wet through I carried on, not caring.
As I kept walking I turned a corner and, looking down at my reflection being shattered each time I made ripples in the water, walked straight into something. Once I had gained my balance I slowly looked up. Standing in front of me with a look of horror on his face was a short, balding middle-aged man in a suit. I followed his line of sight and stared at the hundreds of pieces of paper floating in the muddy pavement water. I bent over to pick them up and he said ‘No need, I’m in a hurry and you’ve ruined them anyway. Watch where you’re going next time’. As he aggressively walked past me I heard him muttering and swearing under his breath. I dropped to the floor and began to collect his papers. I got them into a pile and placed them in my bag to take with me. I’m still not sure if it was my interest in what was written on them or my obsession for recycling but I was going to take them home.
Standing by the till I felt in my pocket for some change to pay for the nice collection of chocolates in front of me. I didn’t mind that it was taking so long, I was out of the cold and wet, the shop keeper didn’t look too happy about me dripping water all over the nice clean floors and trampling mud throughout her shop though. After withdrawing just enough to pay for my purchase I peered out of the door. It still looked murky and not very appealing so I turned my back on it and continued to look around the shop. I picked up a few magazines and flicked through them, nothing very interesting to look at though. This was a newsagent just like all the others. I turned, placing the last magazine back with the hundreds of identical trash, and began to walk towards the door.
I heard a voice behind me but carried on walking. Suddenly I felt something pushing down hard on my shoulder and I was spun round. ‘Leaving so quickly?’ I was still confused and tried to respond, no words came out, and I just looked like a fish out of water. Finally the clasp on my shoulder was loosened and I tried to relax it, uncomfortably moving it around. As I lifted my hand to rub the side of my neck the man before me continued to speak, ‘Come on now, you’ve been caught. Just pass it back and no more will be said about it’. As the realisation dawned of what he was implying another customer walked through the door. He pushed past me, not seeing me, or not caring, and I stumbled, trying to regain my balance. Finally I plucked up the apparent courage to ask the shopkeeper exactly what it was he was accusing me of. Back came the reply, ‘Don’t you act all innocent young woman. Open your bag, then you can see what you are guilty of.’ Slowly I pulled my bag round in front of me and opened it, trying not to look guilty or look away from this man’s glare for too long. I wasn’t sure I entirely trusted him. As I opened it I saw a smile come across his face, ‘There!’ he said. I stared straight into my bag. ‘And what exactly is it I should be looking at?’ I asked in a controlled but calm tone. I began to flick through the papers I had picked up earlier and then looked back to his face. The smile was gone and now appeared a look of bewilderment. ‘But, but…where have you put it? I saw you put it in your bag. The magazine, I saw it, with my own eyes.’ Suddenly I felt like laughing, the fool! ‘Well, I’ll be going then, unless you want me to accuse me of something else?’ I forced a smile and walked out of the shop. I’ve always loved beating men, I’m always careful not to look vulnerable, and I have to be strong. I couldn’t ever let a man win.
The rain was much lighter now but the sun was still struggling to get through the thick grey cloud cover. As I looked up I searched for any patch of blue sky, or even just some white cloud. I felt almost relieved when, just above the bank, I could see the smallest gap between the clouds. Looking at my watch, wiping the droplets of rain off as they hit the face, I decided it was best if I were to catch a bus home quite soon. I would have missed the job interview by now, no point in trying to get there on time. Slowly I walked back to the bus stop, my head hanging low as the weather depressed me more. Stationary I watched so many buses pass. Each time I would strain my eyes to read the number on the bus, but with the combination of the thin blanket of rain and the droplets on my glasses, mixed with the wet hair plastered to my face and across my eyes, I had little hope of seeing it in time. Finally I saw a bus that I thought would take me home so I threw out my arm with my fist clenched and my thumb raised. Either the driver didn’t see me or he chose to pass me by. I sat on the seat and waited.
After a while I looked up to see one of my friends, James, crossing the road, pulling his coat tightly around himself, trying to stop the rain getting in. He held his umbrella above his head, pushing forwards so it didn’t blow inside out. I smiled and waved, even though I felt miserable and alone. He ran over and stood in front of me. Leaning forward he said ‘Are you just going to sit their getting wetter by the second or do you want a lift?!’
After my decline of the offer and his kind persuasion that I should take the lift, he drove me to a local café that he knew so that we could have a chat and I could dry out. We sat inside by a window and I curled up next to the radiator. He laughed and told me I looked like a cat by a log fire. I didn’t mind as I was now warm and it was thanks to him.
‘Would you like to order?’ I looked on the table for the menu, I couldn’t see it. As I looked up I saw that the waitress was holding one out to me. I took it, flushing slightly red from the embarrassment. Looking through it I realised that I didn’t have enough money to pay for anything. I flicked to the back page and said ‘Uh, can I just have a hot chocolate please?’ James looked at me, ‘You are obviously starving so order some food. If you don’t have the money you needn’t worry. I was intending to pay!’ I stuttered and stumbled over my words, ‘But you can’t, that isn’t fair. I’ll be fine with just my drink.’ Just at that moment, just the wrong moment might I add, my belly let out the most almighty roar. ‘Well that’s settled,’ he said. Then he turned to the waitress and said, ‘Can we both have a full breakfast but hold the bacon’ I admit I was shocked, firstly I had been quite upset at not having money as I had wanted the full breakfast and he had ordered it with no hesitation, and secondly that he remembered I didn’t like bacon I hadn’t cooked myself. I looked across the table and smiled, ‘Thanks for this; I will pay you back later’. His reply confused me, ‘I know you will, but you don’t have to. I already owe you.’ He smiled back and then continued to look through the menu.
Scraping the last of the baked beans onto my fork, I gently lifted it towards my mouth. Slowly the focus of my eyes changed from the orange stains on the plate skyward. As I came to look upon James I saw his eyes flicker away and he sat up straight. I kept looking at him, expecting some sort of comment, but there was nothing except for a slight twitch of a muscle in his cheek. It looked as though he wanted to smile but he was holding it back. I brought my focus back to my meal and I finished chewing my food. Suddenly I began to choke on a baked bean and I found myself coughing and spluttering. I didn’t know why but I felt completely humiliated in front of this group of strangers. I had never even been to this café before. I looked across at James as I continued to violently lurch forward in an attempt to stop the blockage. My face turned red and my throat began to hurt. Everyone in the café was staring at me as I tried to force some small amounts of water down my throat. James walked up behind me and, holding his hands as far away from his own body as he could, gently tapped me on the back. After realising this was making very little difference he whacked my back with such force I was in shock and stopped coughing immediately. It seemed that he had dislodged the baked bean and I was once again free to breathe. He offered to buy me dessert but I already felt mean for forcing him to buy me the ‘Full English’ so I declined, very definitely. I did not give him an inch to bargain with so we set off home.
He was on his way home from work when he picked me up so while in the car we discussed his day. When it came to the questions about my own I helpfully steered them back to him. After a few attempts he gave up and contently talked about the financial problems of his business. We kept talking through numerous traffic jams and traffic lights. The conversation evolved from his work place to the weekend. In the end we arranged to meet up the next day for another meal. I was telling him one of my past bad experiences with a date, very shocked at myself for opening up to him as I had tried to keep this quiet for a few years now, when I looked back to the road ahead and shouted for him to brake. I don’t remember much after that.