Page 19 of The Midnight Bakery
He got on well with his colleagues at work, but as kind as Trish could be, he wouldn’t call her a friend. Those people didn’t know him; they didn’t really see him at all. And unless his circumstances changed, even the brightest summer’s day wouldn’t bring the kind of warmth he longed for.
Sure, there had been plenty of friends in the past, one or two of the closest ones even offered to help when the business went bust, but those friends also had families and lives of their own, and Tam knew that sofa surfing was a surefire way to stretchthose friendships to the limit. Maybe hehadpushed them away, and their offers of help, but none of them had tried too hard to change his mind. It turned out they didn’t need much encouragement at all to drift away, and so he lost them too. In fact, Eleanor was the only person he’d call a friend these days, absurd as it sounded.
He’d had many a sleepless night over the last couple of weeks, at times hating himself for the choices he’d made, at times patting himself on the back for having the integrity to make those self-same choices, but mostly just fighting down the rising tide of terror inside him. Because what would he do if he lost his job? Life was bad enough now; he didn’t think he had the strength to face what a jobless future might bring. Neither did he have a clue how to change his current situation.
He pulled his sleeping bag higher around his ears and closed his eyes, but the darkness was suddenly overwhelming, and he sat up, fumbling for his blanket which had become as twisted as his thoughts. Strangely, settling down for the night when he was cold wasn’t as bad as waking up – knowing that at some point he would have to leave the relative warmth of his covers and face the day. And although he wouldn’t have to get up for a while yet, this morning was going to prove more difficult than most.
He looked around the car park, checking the lie of the land. He’d got used to which cars came and went and which stayed overnight. It helped him to tune out the random noises which seemingly posed him no threat – car doors opening and closing, or the occasional movement of vehicles in and out. It meant he could at least getsomesleep. Last night had been different though, and he stared at the space which had been occupied by the grey van, wondering if it was about to become the latest of his problems.
He’d noticed it before on numerous occasions, but there had been nothing about it to attract his attention in the past. Itusually arrived before he went to sleep, and was always gone by morning, but in his wakefulness last night he’d realised that the opening of the van’s side door was accompanied by behaviour he wanted no association with. Drugs spelled trouble, particularly for people like him, and if it had happened once, the likelihood was that the trade was regular. Being sensible, he ought to find somewhere else to stay but, tucked away as it was, this little car park had been perfect. Clearly he wasn’t the only person who thought so. He sighed and leaned his head against the back of the front seat. Life could be so rubbish at times.
As he sat there, a woman came into view. He’d seen her before. She was the owner of the clapped-out navy Volvo who always parked as close to the exit as she could. She had on a woollen coat today, buttoned up to the neck, but during warmer weather, he’d glimpsed a nurse’s uniform and had always assumed she worked the night shift. It would explain her desire for a fast getaway come morning and he smiled. He didn’t blame her – he’d do the same.
She passed by the rear of his car, and he shut his eyes, as if that would magically make him invisible. At least it would spare her the embarrassment of making uncomfortable eye contact; that would be awful. When he first started sleeping in his car, he used to watch people – surreptitiously, of course – but he liked to imagine what kind of life they had. Wondering where they’d been, where they were going…Did they have any pets? What was their favourite colour? Anything and everything, small details, but ones which made up a life. This little window on the everyday used to make him feel connected. It made him feel as if he was still a part of it. But then he realised he would always be on the outside of the window looking in and the opposite happened. He turned his head away and pulled his blanket higher.
The sudden expletive was such a surprise it made him jump. It was still too early for loud noises of any kind, and certainly not ones as filled with emotion as that had been. And it was soon followed by another, different this time – the woman had quite a vocabulary. He looked over to where she was standing by her car, and he was caught by how utterly defeated she looked. Without thinking, he threw off his blanket and scooched his legs out of his sleeping bag, reaching for his trainers. He had one hand on the car door before he thought to check his appearance. A fleece and jogging bottoms looked harmless enough though, didn’t they?
The woman jumped as if she’d been shot. ‘Jesus, you scared the life out of me.’
Tam threw up his hands as if she’d pointed that same gun athim. ‘Sorry, sorry…I wasn’t thinking.’ He slowly lowered his hands. ‘Do you need any help?’
The woman stared at him and then at the car. ‘Probably…I don’t know.’ She kicked the side of the car viciously and Tam immediately saw the problem. The nearside tyre was flatter than a pancake.
‘Ah…Have you got a spare?’
She looked about her as if one might happen to be lying around. ‘Yeah…’ She scratched her head, distracted. ‘It’s in the boot, I think.’
He gestured at the car. ‘May I? I can give you a hand if you like.’
‘Yeah, okay…’ she muttered, fumbling with her phone. ‘No! Wait a minute.’ She frowned and placed a hand on top of her head, staring across the space. Tam could see the beginnings of panic stirring.
‘I don’t have to help,’ he added. ‘Are you with the AA? Or someone who could come out to change it for you?’
‘What?’
‘The tyre. Is there someone who could come out to change it for you? A breakdown service, maybe.’
She stared at him again and he winced at his words.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume you couldn’t change the tyre yourself…Just that it’s a dirty job and you’re…you might not want to.’
She seemed to be having trouble understanding what he was saying. ‘I need to get home,’ she said. ‘I can’t be doing with this…’ He cringed as she let fly another volley of expletives.
‘Shall we have a look in the boot?’ he suggested, hoping to move the situation along.
‘There’s no point,’ she said, her attention suddenly snapping to him. ‘The spare is flat too. I never got it repaired. And no, I’m not with the AA or anyone else who could help.’
‘Ah…’ Tam nodded in commiseration. ‘It happens. We always think next week will be soon enough to do these things, don’t we? And then suddenly a year has gone by and…’ He trailed off. He wasn’t helping.
‘I know you,’ she said, eyes narrowing. ‘I’ve seen you. You sleep here, don’t you? In your car.’
Tam took a step backward. ‘Right…’ He should have known. ‘And I suppose you’ll be informing the police on me now, will you? Have me moved along? Or arrested for deigning to speak to you?’
‘What the hell?’ She glared at him. ‘Why on earth would I do that?’ Her eyes locked on his, the intensity of her gaze rapidly becoming uncomfortable. ‘Oh, I see, it’s because you kip here overnight, isn’t it? So, even though you know nothing about me, you’ve decided I’m the kind of person who would behave like a—’ She broke off. ‘Not very nice person.’
‘Well, you brought up the subject of me being homeless.’
‘Yes, because I’ve seen you here, that’s all. I wasn’t being judgemental, far from it. And I certainly wouldn’t call the police.’
