Page 8 of The Reboot
‘Sorry the interview was a bust,’ she said when Ella answered.
‘It’s fine. It wouldn’t have been right for me anyway.’ She told Hazel all about Tweedledum and Tweedledee.
‘Gosh! Sounds like you dodged a bullet there all right.’
‘Yeah. Something else happened afterwards, though, that kind of … blindsided me.’ She was glad Hazel was up for a chat. It was something she hadn’t told her mother and aunt – not that they’d judge. She knew shecouldtell them. But she didn’t want to.
‘I was walking around town after the interview, and I saw Matthew. I passed him in the street.’
‘Matthew? You mean … Matthew Redmond?’
‘Yeah. And I automatically went to say hi … but then I stopped myself. Because I thought nah, he wouldn’t remember me. So I said nothing, just walked right by him.’
‘Okay…’ Hazel sounded confused, like she was waiting for the punchline.
‘I mean, that’s fucked up, isn’t it? We were together.’
‘For like five minutes, in first year.’
‘It was almost a month.’
‘Still…’
‘A pretty intense month.’
‘You’re not still hung up on him, surely?’
‘No! God. I wasn’t “hung up on him” even then.’
‘So why are you so shook up about seeing him again?’
‘It wasn’t seeing him. It’s nothing to do with him. It’s the fact that I could have that thought about someone I’ve had sex with!’ It had stopped her in her tracks, literally. She’d passed him and then caught that thought going through her head and did a double-take. She literally stood still in the street for a moment, shocked at herself. ‘I just casually thought he wouldn’t remember me.’
‘He probably wouldn’t – it was a long time ago. But so what?’
‘So what? He’s seen me naked. He’s beeninsideme, for fuck’s sake! That’s seriously disturbing!’
‘It’s just modern life, isn’t it?’
‘Is it?’ Ella sighed. Had she fallen that much out of step? She felt fed up and left behind, out of practice at sleeping with strangers and thinking outside the box. ‘I guess I have a lot of catching up to do.’
3
Roly fizzedwith impatience as he stood in line at the convenience store. He tried to quell the urge to fidget that itched beneath his skin. It wouldn’t make the queue move any faster, and he’d only draw attention to himself, ticcing and twitching because he had to queue to pay for a pint of milk and a packet of biscuits like a regular person. If he just kept his cool, acted casual and bored, no one would notice him. He had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up, his eyes trained on the ground, careful not to look around and risk catching someone’s eye.
There were only – he counted – three people ahead of him now. It was a quiet Monday afternoon. He felt safe going out at this time of day, when most people would be at work – people who had proper nine to five jobs with water coolers and annual leave and all that. Still, there were always more people out and about than you’d expect. It surprised him every time – housewives and stay-at-home mums, he supposed; students; the unemployed; pensioners.
He stifled a howl as the old lady who was now being served fumbled in her bag for her purse when all her purchases had been rung up. What was that about? Had it only just occurred to her that she’d have to pay? Finally, she moved on and struggled out through the doors with her shopping trolley. It was almost bigger than herself, but he resisted the impulse to leave the queue and go over to help her with it. She might recognise him. Grannies loved him for some reason.
Roly glanced at the cashier – a young Asian bloke, bored arseless by the look of him. He wasn’t even making eye contact with customers as he served them. Clearly not one of those cheery types who thought they were making the world a better place with small talk – that was good. Roly didn’t want to engage with anyone, and it looked like he’d get away with it.
He didn’t mind going to the meetings – he looked forward to them, in fact. It was the journeys there and back that he found daunting – having to go out on the streets and risk being recognised. The thought of being looked at with pity or derision made his insides shrivel up. There was no danger of that at his meetings. Everyone knew who he was, of course, despite the ‘anonymous’ tag. But they didn’t care. At NA they were all in the same boat, and no one looked down on anyone else. They’d all fucked up royally and lost everything they’d had, whatever that happened to be. He may have had further to fall than some, but when you fell all the way down it didn’t really matter where you’d started. You landed in the same place.
When it was finally his turn, the cashier didn’t even look at him, keeping his eyes trained on the register throughout the whole transaction. Roly felt irrationally pissed off, and deliberately tried to make eye contact as he took his change.
‘Miserable day,’ he said, nodding to the door.
‘Hmm,’ the cashier hummed vaguely in response, glancing at Roly for a nanosecond. Nothing. Not even that vague flash of recognition when you know someone is familiar, but you can’t quite place them. Huh! Maybe he really was anonymous now.
