If you’d realised
how I felt
would you have
changed
Amended 15 May 2005
If you’d realised
how I felt
would you have
changed
Amended 15 May 2005
Up the stairs to the library, and look in. She’s not there. Not that I can see. I’m meant to be meeting her. Secret, like, no-one should know. None of her friends. Or her boyfriend. I don’t know why she asked me here. I have to pretend – what – I guess that we’re just off to lunch or something.
Carry on looking round. By the window, far left. Yes. She sees me, packs her books into her bag, grabs a bunch of pencils and her keys, and walks over.
“Hi Andy.” She stepped towards me. “Oh, have you met,” turning her head to the girl sat at the table. I shook my head. “Helen, this is, er, Andy. Andy, Helen.” I said hello. “Lets go.”
The department was equidistant from the main campus, my house, and her own. We headed away from hers, to the relative safety of where I lived, and the pub opposite. Less chance of seeing anyone she knew. Not that I’d be able to show any affection in public. That was strictly off charter, until she’s sorted out things at home. Always in hand.
Before I’d arrived at the city, I’d been told, the pub had been a place for bikers, and had a reputation as being unfriendly towards the tidal influx of new residents. Although it retained a general gloom, I found the cheap beer, pool table, and generally a few faces that I knew to be quite welcoming.
We hit the pool table.
I was never a great player, although I had occasional beer-induced boughts of inspiration. Nic was about the same. we had a couple of games, winning one each, and laughing all the way.
T-shirt project:
Led from the waist
T-shirt project
Wasted talent
T-shirt project:
Read my tits
High five was the name we called ourselves that summer.
When I was 18, or thereabouts, I’d written a few poems. The beauty of the Urban Springs. The first Uncle Silas. One or two others, that may not be on the site. And then I went through a bit of a block. At the time, I thought that I had used up all of my talent. Fancy that. Thinking I had talent.
Back in the days of the shop. The very early days. There was a night out, funded by a lens company, probably in lieu of our wages for a month or so. We had to drive from our base in Worcester to wherever the Sigma and Jessop event was taking place. Fortunately, we had a designated driver, a certain person of South Eastern descent who held overall responsibilty for the safety and conduct of this small band of maverick retailers.
On the way back, he took us for pizza to absorb some of the alochol. Then we went to someone’s house, allowing one member of staff (not me) to fall asleep in the loo. We took him home and knocked on the door. His girlfriend answered, and was informed “Its okay, he’s drunk”, whereupon the drunken one fell in, and the door was violently slammed closed. How we laughed.
On the way there, down one of the lanes, we’d encountered a couple engaged in personal activity in a car. Once we’d finished the call of nature, the driver of the minibus flashed the lights and honked the horn. The guy in the car was quite annoyed.
In the morning, the van and one remaining renegade retailer drove to the Malvern Hills, to watch the sun come up and, unfortunately, to cover the floor of the hire vehicle with vomit.
Is there no beginning to my talent?
His head was full of the girl that he’d met near the causeway.