Page 1 of Forever, Maybe
A SANDWICH AT THE END OF THE NIGHT
May1994
Combine the world’s most delicious cheese sandwich (trademark pending), a haze of drug- and alcohol-fuelled hunger and a spontaneous act of kindness, and you have the makings of an unexpected romance. Who’d a thunk it?
Twenty-year-old Daniel Murray leant out of the van parked outside the student union building on Scott Street late one Thursday night to take the customer’s order and found himself transfixed.
Standing before him was a tiny girl dressed as if she’d stumbled out of a punk fairy tale. Her orange ball gown flared dramatically at the hips; the hem crudely hacked off at calf length with what must have been blunt scissors.
Beneath, a black net petticoat peeked out, providing all the volume. One side of her head was shaved, while the other side boasted a sleek blonde curtain dyed at the ends with a clashing shade of pink. Her Doc Martens and a black crocheted shawl tightly wrapped around her shoulders completed the look.
Her eyes—turquoise-blue, huge and glassy—locked on Daniel. Then, with the air of someone whose night had peaked several hours ago, she wailed, “I don’t have any money!”
Daniel’s assistant, the very able Joe, sighed. This wasn’t their first broke-and-hungry-student encounter of the night. “Sorry, hen. Nae money, nae grub.”
Daniel stirred, caught somewhere between sympathy and something else. “Tell you what,” he said, ignoring Joe’s exasperated glare. “There’s some cheese savoury filling left over that needs to be used up. As a one-off, I’ll give you a freebie.”
Out of sight of the customer, Joe kicked Daniel’s calf.
Daniel shrugged, blushing faintly as he reached for two thick slices of that day’s freshly baked bread. He buttered them liberally, piled on the savoury filling and added an extra dollop of mayonnaise for good measure, as the lassie looked as if she needed feeding up. He tucked the sandwich into a brown paper bag and nodded toward Joe.
“Can you hold the fort a sec?”
Joe rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “You owe me. Big time.”
He stepped aside to let Daniel climb out of the van, only to wince as the sharp metal edge of the back counter clipped his elbow.
Meanwhile, the girl had drifted away. She settled herself on the pavement across the street, where the ground sloped steeply down towards Sauchiehall Street where now and then, a black cab, its orange light on, drifted past.
Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees and her head rested on top. The black shawl barely covered her trembling shoulders, and Daniel, sandwich in hand, felt an unfamiliar tug at his chest.
He walked toward her, bracing himself for whatever came next.
“Hey,” Daniel prodded her gently and sat down beside her. “Sandwich on me.”
She twisted her head, frowning at him. “What’s in it?”
“Cheese savoury. Grated cheese. Mixed wi’ a bit of coleslaw. It’s our bestseller.”
As she extended one hand to take it, a gurgle, soft and squelchy, sounded, making her eyes widen in horror. She snatched her hand back, stuffing it in between her folded legs and her stomach. “Oh my God, that’s my tummy, not my, not my—”
“Arse?” he asked, suddenly much more at ease.
“Yes, I mean no! My tummy rumbled. I did not, one hundred per cent I promise, fart!”
Pinkness bloomed on her cheeks, heightening the turquoise blue of her eyes. The metallic sheen of her grey eyeshadow reminded him of his all-time favourite wank-bank image. Pamela Anderson with her hair slicked back and face glistening wet.
He shook his head dislodging Pamela lest she send his hormones into further overdrive.
“I believe you. Thousands wouldnae.”
“Ididn’t! I smoked a spliff earlier and whited out. Now I’ve got the complete munchies. I was on my way back to my room to get something to eat when I saw your van, and thought, ‘oh, wow, that would be yummy’.”
He proffered the bag once more. “Better eat it up then. Before your stomach farts again.”
She screwed her nose up, but took the sandwich from the bag, gazing at it with almost holy reverence. Three bites in, she remembered her manners. “Thank you so much. This is the best cheese sandwich I have ever tasted. It might even be the best sandwich in the whole world! You should trademark it, or all the other sandwich vans will steal it from you.”
Daniel grinned, unreasonably pleased. Compliments on his sandwiches werehisdrug—he was powerless against them, utterly hooked. He ran a hand through his dark, floppy fringe, brushing it back from his brow as his heart did an unexpected flip. The fact that the girl was still sitting here felt nothing short of miraculous.
