Page 38 of The Second Chance Bus Stop
‘You think my boss sent a child from Malmöto London?’
‘Why don’t you have a look?’
‘Can’t open another person’s mail. I’m a man with principles...’
‘Edith,’ I quickly filled in. Because it seemed like the sort of name a well-built, tanned Swedish man with principles should know.
‘Edith.’
The crowd of single mothers’ group members began arriving and people smiled and waved at me from all directions.
‘Does every last person here know you? They practically flock toward you.’ He laughed a second time. ‘Hopefully that means your number will be easy to find, should I want to see you again, Edith.’
Sophia
Älvsjö
It’s the third and final day in this first location. When I arrive at the market, a new man meets me instead of Vincent. Which goes to prove my point that every day is highly unpredictable. He’s around fifty, and I’d put his average step count at two thousand. I wait for him to say something.
‘Hi there. Sophia?’
‘Indeed. With a “ph” as in “Philadelphia”. The city or the cheese spread. Take your pick,’ I say.
‘Vincent told me to open up for you. Bit of a flu, he’s got. I’m the building maintenance manager.’
‘Wonderful. Well, I’m ready for you to open up when you are.’ I move towards the door. He pushes it open, he’s clearly been inside already as the key isn’t needed.
‘Bit young to run a business by yourself. Look no more than twenty.’ He looks me up and down which takes a while considering my height.
‘I’m twenty-six next month,’ I say. It’s more my body language and facial expressions that make me seem younger, because in pictures I certainly feel I look my age.
‘Well, I’m exactly double your age then, in August.’
‘I like older men,’ I say. Then realise my mistake. This is acomment-in-the-lift scenario that’s gone against me. I try to save myself from death of embarrassment.
‘I mean dads. Grandads. Those sorts of men. Uncles! I was very fond of my late uncle.’ The man laughs, and my technique seems to have worked. I’m saved from any unwanted advances.
‘All right then, young lady, I’ll leave you to it. Don’t want you to become too fond of this old man, now do we?’ He stretches out his hand, and I shake it.
‘Thanks and bye.’
I’ve come to enjoy my evenings with company. It only took us four nights to fall into a routine. We eat, then we sit until the forest noises start to grow louder—leaves rustling, trees swaying, owls hooting in the distance—letting us know it’s time to sleep. The social hangover is still there, but for the first time I can understand Lina when she says that a night of drinking is worth feeling sluggish the next day. I think talking to Blade makes up for the overwhelm I feel afterwards.
‘Where were you born?’ I ask. He answers my questions with long sentences now. We have definitely moved past small talk about gum. I might be imagining it, but he seems less anxious, less jumpy, and the dark circles under his eyes that I had thought were permanent have started to pale.
‘London. My mother raised me alone.’
I imagine this man’s mother and find myself wanting to know more about his upbringing. About him.Weird.
‘I think we should always set up camp by a lake,’ Blade says after a pause, taking a bite of dinner. I’ve cooked tonight which means we are having ham and cheese toasties.
‘There are about a hundred thousand lakes in Sweden.’
‘I love how you know those random facts.’
‘Who decides what’s random?’
‘No idea. But I reckon I’d happily visit every single one of those lakes with you.’
