Читать книгу Meet Me at Pebble Beach - Bella Osborne - Страница 13

After another uncomfortable night sleeping in the chair and a now-permanent ache in her neck, Regan woke to face another day staring at four brick walls, a couple of nipple paintings and a gloomy looking future. She gave herself the best wash she could manage in the tiny sink and made a strong coffee. She didn’t have the solution, but she at least knew diving back into the ice cream wasn’t the answer.

She brushed her hair, checked her armpits and headed off for the mindfulness session with an open mind – and, if she was honest, a spark of interest in seeing Charlie again. She told herself she needed to thank the kindly policeman, but it wouldn’t do any harm to check whether he was seeing anyone. If anything he might make a pleasant distraction.

The community centre where the session was held wasn’t far, and she decided to walk to save the meagre amount of petrol she had in her car in case she needed it to get to a job interview – she was trying to remain hopeful. The community centre was a simple affair, so it was easy to find the large room with a circle of chairs and a hotchpotch of locals milling about. She watched the interesting mix of people through the glass in the door and began to reconsider. Was this really for her?

‘Hello, I’m Cressy,’ said a tall woman with neat grey hair and a long, flowing cardigan. ‘First time?’ Regan nodded. There was no sign of Charlie and she was starting to wonder if this had been a bad idea. ‘Tea or coffee?’ asked Cressy, beckoning her inside.

‘Um …’ Regan checked her pockets for the fiver she’d brought in case there was a charge.

‘It’s free, and there’s biscuits. Custard creams this week.’ Cressy had a warm smile.

‘Coffee, please. Lots of milk.’

‘You take a seat. Pop your details on here,’ she said, handing Regan a clipboard, ‘and I’ll get your drink.’

Regan scanned the form. It was all basic stuff. She began filling it in but the pen was running out. She scratched it on the edge of the paper and it worked, but as soon as she tried to write in the boxes it stopped. She sighed. Why did pens do that?

‘I had that problem,’ said a nasal voice to her left. ‘I’m Chris. That’s me.’ He leaned over and ran his finger along the line above Regan’s. She gave a tight smile and gave up on the form. She scanned the people taking seats. These weren’t her kind of people. What was she even doing here? There was no point staying just in case Charlie showed up. He wasn’t that cute, it wasn’t worth it.

She stood up to leave, but Cressy took the clipboard from her and swapped it for her coffee.

‘Biscuits are on their way round,’ she said, taking a seat nearby. If she left now she’d miss out on a free biscuit. She’d stay for a bit.

‘Welcome to Mantra, everyone,’ said Cressy. The chatter ceased and everyone looked in her direction. ‘While we’re finishing drinks …’

The door at the back of the hall creaked open and Charlie rushed in. He took a seat, nodding greetings to some of the others until his eyes alighted on Regan. He gave her a slow, almost regal nod. She liked that he was surprised to see her. She twitched an eyebrow in a ‘See, told you so’ response.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ said Charlie.

‘That’s fine. I was just welcoming our new members,’ Cressy peered closely at the form, ‘Chris and Reg?’ Regan sprang to life, almost spilling her coffee. She held on tightly to the mug and tried to ignore Charlie, who was tittering nearby.

‘Hello, I’m Chris,’ said Chris.

Regan felt all eyes land on her. ‘Hi. I’m Regan.’

‘Oh,’ said Cressy, studying the form. ‘It says Reg.’

‘The pen was running out,’ Regan tried to explain, but nobody seemed to hear.

‘Like the president?’ asked an older woman in a brightly coloured kaftan.

‘If you mean Ronald Reagan,’ started Regan, and the woman nodded, ‘then no, that was pronounced Ray-gun. Mine’s Ree—’

‘I had an Uncle Reg.’ A man with Harry Potter-style glasses cut her off. ‘Jolly nice chap. Nice to meet you.’ This set off a series of welcomes from around the circle and ended with Charlie.

‘Lovely to see you again, Reg,’ said Charlie, failing to control a smirk.

Great, thought Regan. She’d have her free coffee and biscuit, if the packet ever made its way around to her, and then she’d escape.

‘Would someone like to share what mindfulness means to them?’ Cressy looked hopefully around the group.

‘I will,’ said the lady in the kaftan. ‘I’m Wendy and I had a stroke six months ago. So for me, mindfulness is about teaching my brain to keep focused. It’s about staying calm, not getting frustrated about all the things I can’t do, and focusing on the many things I can do.’

‘Thanks, Wendy. Anyone else?’

The man in Harry Potter specs put his hand up. ‘This is only my fourth session. I’m getting over a breakdown. I’ll probably always suffer from depression and low mood, but mindfulness helps me to spot the simple pleasures in life rather than giving all the attention to the bad stuff.’

‘Thanks, Joel.’

A bearded face leaned forward. ‘I’m Mandeep and coming to Mantra makes me sleep better.’

A young woman gave a little wave and Cressy nodded at her. ‘I’m Ellie and I’m in remission from cancer and I live in fear of it coming back. Mindfulness helps me take time to order my thoughts and feel calmer.’

Regan knew she was staring. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but these revelations from these poor people about everything they were going through was definitely not it. On first superficial look they had all seemed perfectly healthy.

She felt like a complete fraud. What did she have to worry about? A few things swamped her mind. Okay, there was stuff to worry about, there always was, but her problems weren’t life-threatening. What these people were dealing with was serious stuff.

‘Thanks, everyone. Right, let’s start with a full body scan,’ said Cressy. ‘Please can you move your chairs to the side and get out the yoga mats.’

Regan was unsettled; she hadn’t been expecting to do yoga, and apart from a couple of people in trackies, nobody else looked like they’d dressed for it. ‘Here you go, Reg,’ said Charlie, putting down a yoga mat for her next to his own.

‘Actually, I’m not sure I …’ she began, but Cressy was talking so she copied Charlie and sat down on the mat with her legs crossed.

‘Now, Chris and Reg,’ said Cressy, and Charlie stifled a laugh. Regan glared at him and he turned his laugh into a cough. ‘Don’t be alarmed, this is really easy. All you need to do is lie down and listen to my voice. Okay?’

Regan and Chris both nodded. Lying down she was good at and, after a few nights scrunched up like a hamster in Cleo’s chair, the opportunity to lie out flat was a welcome one. She stretched out and was pleased with how comfortable the mat was. She wondered if they’d miss one if she borrowed it for a bit.

A few people produced pillows and took off their shoes. Cressy waited until everyone was settled. ‘Close your eyes. Empty your mind. I want you to focus all of your attention on your feet … Specifically your left foot … and your big toe …’

Regan grinned. This was all a bit bonkers. ‘Keep your focus on your big toe … Think about how it feels.’ Cressy had a melodic voice, which thankfully was pleasant to listen to, and whilst Regan found herself tuning in and out she did try, as Cressy suggested, to keep pulling her attention back.

Cressy moved their focus from the big toe to other parts of the foot, and eventually over the whole body, until they were focused on their breathing. When someone on the other side of the room snored, Regan couldn’t stop a snort of a giggle. Cressy continued unperturbed. Despite the giggles, Regan did feel calmer; she probably wasn’t far from nodding off herself. She was interested by how difficult it was to keep her mind focused on Cressy’s voice, and how easily it was distracted by the minutiae of life that littered her brain like plastic in the ocean.

They finished the body scan and Cressy went on to tell them about practical ways of using the techniques. She suggested losing your temper was a good opportunity to deploy mindfulness. Regan had a sly look in Charlie’s direction and he was staring straight at her. Rude. She didn’t make a habit of pummelling people’s heads on revolving doors, but, in his defence, he didn’t know that. She smiled and he smiled back. Cressy went on to teach them some other practices, but then all too soon the session was over and people were packing away their mats.

‘So, Reg,’ Charlie appeared at her shoulder, ‘what did you think?’

‘Hmm.’ She wanted a moment to consider her thoughts.

‘Actually, let’s get a drink and you can update me. Okay?’ He was already walking for the door.

She had nothing else planned. ‘Why not?’ she said, with a lazy shrug. She didn’t want to look too keen.

She suggested her usual coffee shop and they walked through the bustle of the Saturday market. The market always had a vibrancy that buoyed Regan. Whether it was the sights, smells or banter of the stallholders she wasn’t sure, but there was something about it that brought her to life. When they neared the coffee shop, she spotted Kevin hunched in a doorway. He was hugging his knees and rocking. Elvis was leaning against him as if trying to comfort him.

‘I’ll get the coffees,’ said Regan, when they went inside and joined the short queue.

‘Sorry. The rule is that whoever suggests it pays. So I have to pay.’ Charlie nodded sagely.

‘Thanks, but I want to get a couple of extra drinks for my friends.’ She nodded towards the doorway.

‘That’s cool, I’ll get theirs too. It’s near payday so I’m flush. Order away.’

Regan thought about standing her ground, but with only a few quid in her pocket she wasn’t in a position to be stubborn. ‘Cheers, that’s kind of you.’ And generous, she thought.

Penny wasn’t about so another woman took her order. When the drinks arrived on the end of the counter, Charlie took his and Regan’s. ‘Shall I get us some seats? I’m assuming you’re not going to run out on me.’ He gave a pout, which made him look rather sexy.

‘I’ll come back, I promise,’ said Regan, giving him an equally flirty look. This was fun.

She almost bounced over to Kevin and crouched down next to him. Elvis towered over her and was very excited that she was within licking distance. She scratched his head to try to keep him occupied, although his focus was on the paper cups. Kevin’s eyes were tight shut and he was muttering something inaudible. ‘Kevin, you okay?’

His eyes popped wide open in an alarming fashion, making Regan almost topple backwards. ‘Birds,’ he said, in a whisper.

‘Birds?’ She looked about her. There was a pair of wood pigeons pecking about nearby.

‘They get in my head.’

His hunted expression was bothering her. ‘Here, have a coffee. I got milk for Elvis.’

Kevin blinked a few times and seemed to almost come to. ‘Thanks … I bet you think I’m mad, don’t you?’

‘No, but you had me a bit worried there.’

He smiled at her. And then he froze. ‘Listen.’ There was a buzz of background noise from the hubbub of the nearby market.

‘Yeah, always noisy on a Saturday.’

‘No. Listen to the birds.’ His eyes were wide and he was worrying her again.

Regan closed her eyes and concentrated. Could she hear birds? ‘I can hear a pigeon.’ Its rhythmic coo of ‘da-dah-da-da-dah-dahhh’ was easy to pick out.

‘Yes, yes, that’s it.’ They listened together. ‘Can you hear what they’re saying?’ Regan gave a slow and slightly bewildered shake of her head. Kevin spoke along to the pigeon’s tune. ‘You can’t do it, Kevin. You can’t do it, Kevin!’

Regan would have laughed if Kevin’s face hadn’t been etched with horror. ‘Come on,’ said Regan, helping him up. She needed to find him somewhere away from the wood pigeons; all the scraps from the market must have drawn them in from The Level, so they’d be there for a while.

They walked until she found him a wall to sit on. ‘There are no birds here.’ She gave him the drinks. ‘Here.’ The dog was now slathering wildly and had not left her side.

Kevin’s eyes darted anxiously about and then he seemed to relax a little. She sat next to him while he sipped his drink.

‘Not seen you this week. You been on holiday?’ asked Kevin, now seemingly almost back to normal.

‘No, I quit my job.’

‘For a better one?’ Kevin tilted the milk cup for Elvis and he wolfed down the contents.

‘Er … no. I’m in between jobs. But it’s okay.’ She nodded and Kevin nodded too.

‘I wouldn’t want to be cooped up in an office.’ He was staring straight ahead. ‘I enjoyed working in the fresh air too much. The smell of the sea.’

Regan was curious. ‘What line of work were you in?’

‘Engineer.’ His voice had taken on a clipped tone.

‘Did you enjoy the work?’

Kevin looked at his scarred hands. ‘Yeah, most of the time.’ He snapped his head back. ‘Anyway, thanks for this.’ He held up Elvis’s empty cup.

‘You’re both very welcome. And thanks for taking care of me the other day. It was kind of you.’

Kevin shrugged a shoulder. ‘Ditto.’ They smiled at each other. ‘Well, carpe diem.’

She figured that was her cue to leave. ‘You too.’ Seeing Kevin kept reminding her that she was only one more bad decision away from being on the streets herself, and it scared the life out of her.

Charlie was watching the door when she returned and looked relieved to see her. She sat down and picked up her drink. ‘That’ll be cold by now, let me get you a fresh one,’ he said, getting up from the table. She noted his empty cup. ‘I need another coffee anyway.’ She didn’t argue.

He returned with the drinks and a couple of muffins. She went to protest but he waved it away. ‘I was hungry. Okay?’

‘Okay.’ She picked up the cake and began eating. It tasted divine but it crumbled everywhere. She could see Charlie was amused by it. So unlike Jarvis, who would have been on level two tutting by now.

‘So,’ he said, when he’d finished eating his, ‘are you coming back to Mantra?’

She tilted her head to one side. He was one big incentive to go back, and not just because of the free muffin. He was very easy on the eye and, from what she could tell, he appeared to be totally lovely to the core. It was hard not to compare him with Jarvis. He was so much more easy-going. And he was patient. There was no way Jarvis would have waited in a café on his own like Charlie had done. Charlie was generous too, she thought, whilst she savoured her muffin. He was so much more fun than Jarvis. She liked the easy rapport they’d quickly developed.

So was she going back to Mantra? ‘Yeah, I think so. It was a bit weird but I liked it.’

‘The trick is to practise. It’s like any new skill; you need to keep doing it and you’ll get better.’

‘How long have you been doing it?’ She noticed his eyebrows twitch. It had been ages since she’d flirted, and it was like flexing a little-used muscle. She popped the last of the muffin in her mouth and mourned its end.

‘Five months. I miss a few because of shift patterns but I’m usually there most weeks.’ Now she knew where she’d be most Saturday mornings too. ‘What’s new with you?’ He looked bright with anticipation and she hated to bring down the mood.

‘Not a lot. I’ve been looking for a job but it’s tricky with no WiFi, no computer and no fixed abode.’

His expression changed to concerned. ‘You said you had somewhere to stay.’

‘Yeah, I do, but it’s a friend’s business premises. Living there is against the rules and she doesn’t know I’m doing it. It’s all a bit precarious.’ When she thought about it she got a bit panicked so she sipped her drink to try to distract herself.

‘Did you know the computers at the library are free to use?’

‘Thanks, that’s good to know.’

‘Look, Regan. I know we’ve only recently met, but if you’ll let me I’d like to help you get back on your feet. What happened to you was really …’ He looked like he was searching for the right word.

‘Shitty,’ she offered.

He laughed. ‘Exactly. What do you say? Will you let me help? No strings.’

Right now she could do with people she could trust on her side. He’d been right about the mindfulness and it couldn’t harm to have a police officer on her side. Especially one with such a long list of positive attributes. ‘Sure, why not?’

‘Okay. Let’s have a look at local jobs.’ He scooted his seat round to her and cosied up, and she noted he smelled of aftershave and coffee. He pulled up a website on his phone. ‘HGV driver? Maybe not.’ He eyed her cheekily.

‘You don’t know. I might be qualified,’ she said, making him tilt his head in question. ‘I’m not, as it happens, but I do like a Yorkie. Next.’ She leaned over his screen and got another whiff of aftershave. This was a good way to spend a Saturday.

‘Sous chef or carpentry lecturer?’

‘A bit niche.’

‘Recruitment consultant. How ironic,’ he said. ‘Assistant drainage engineer?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘What’s a production operative?’ she asked, touching the screen. They both read the details together. Picking, packing and labelling boxes. It wasn’t glamorous but it was probably the only one she didn’t need qualifications or experience for. He took a screenshot of the details, they swapped full names and phone numbers and he sent it to her. She typed his name in next to his number – Charlie McGee.

Chatting with Charlie was making her feel buoyed and ready for action. She’d had a great time with him but now it was time to leave. As they were exiting the coffee shop, a man the same size and shape as the doorway loomed over him. Regan feared there was about to be trouble.

‘Hey Debbie, what you up to?’ he asked.

Regan was confused. Had he mistaken her for someone else? But, before she could question him, Charlie spoke. ‘Hiya, Beanstalk,’ he said. ‘Beanstalk, this is my friend Reg.’

Regan didn’t argue; everything was already too strange. ‘Nice to meet you, Beanstalk.’

‘You too, Reg.’ He gave an unsubtle head tilt in her direction and winked at Charlie.

‘Bye, Beanstalk,’ said Charlie, slapping the large fellow on the back when they passed in the coffee shop doorway.

Beanstalk turned back for a second. ‘Hey, Debbie, I heard you got a bollocking from the station commander about Thursday’s shout. Tough call,’ he said with a wince, before disappearing inside.

‘You wanna tell me what went on there … Debbie?’ asked Regan, failing to hide her amusement.

Charlie screwed his face up. ‘It’s a work thing. Pretty much all of us have nicknames.’

Regan grinned. ‘And yours is Debbie?’ By comparison, Reg didn’t seem bad at all. ‘Oh, Debbie McGee.’ The penny dropped. ‘That’s genius.’ She laughed.

‘Isn’t it?’ said Charlie, not looking that impressed; but he’d likely witnessed this reaction before.

‘And what did you get a bollocking about?’ It was reassuring to hear about others making a hash of things at work, although it was unlikely to be on the same scale as hers.

Charlie rubbed his stubbly chin. For a moment he appeared vulnerable, making her warm to him even more. ‘I didn’t exit a burning building when I was instructed to.’

Regan was surprised. ‘A burning building? Like one on fire?’ How brave was this copper?

Charlie looked like he was chewing the inside of his mouth. ‘I may not have been entirely truthful with you when we first met.’ He looked suitably chastened. ‘I said I was a police officer so that you’d listen to me and stop pummelling that bloke’s head in. But I’m actually a firefighter.’

‘Right,’ said Regan. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about this news, but her instant reaction was one of distrust. Clearly he wasn’t totally trustworthy or he would have owned up to this a lot sooner. ‘So you lied.’

‘I figured you wouldn’t take any notice unless you thought you were about to be arrested,’ said Charlie. ‘I’d forgotten about it, which was why I didn’t put you straight. I’m sorry.’

Regan didn’t need people she couldn’t trust. He no longer looked quite so appealing. ‘Yeah. Me too,’ she said, with a disappointed smile and she walked away.