Vintage

by Maxine Linnell

  Sheila snapped the album shut. “Live in the present, isn’t that what they say? Make the most of the life you’ve got? No good wanting something you don’t have. Marilyn’s long gone as far as I’m concerned. I wouldn’t interest her in the least.”

  “I’m sure – she would be interested in you. She’d want to know. She’d want – to help if she could. It’s never too late. To be happy, I mean.”

  “Happy? I suppose I’m happy enough. It would be good to have someone to run this place with, but I get by. I’ll have a pension when I give it up, and it’ll sell for a fair bit. I can retire somewhere, with a garden. Maybe down south.”

  “She liked plants – Sheila.” Marilyn slipped back into her own world for a second.

  Mrs L looked oddly at her. “What do you mean? What is it about you? I recognise something – in your voice I think, in the way you say things. Can’t think what it is. I never noticed it before.”

  Ewan’s voice floated up the stairs. “Mrs L? We need you down here, we’re getting busy.”

  Mrs L sighed and put the album down on the sofa.

  “I’d better go down – nice talking to you though. Can’t think who you remind me of. Good to look back at those old days.”

  Marilyn recovered herself.

  “Thanks for telling me. I’ll be getting off. I’ve got to do my project.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “1962.”

  “No wonder you’re interested, it was around then the photos were taken. If you want to know any more – about how it was – pop down any time. I’m always here.”

  “Thanks, I might do that.”

  It was two o’clock. Only two hours to go before she met Holly at the bus stop. Or would she?

  She played again with the idea of staying, of turning her back on 1962 and living Holly’s life. Starting from here. There were loads of things she liked about now. She was freer than she’d ever been. But she knew the dangers too, from last night. It was so hard to put them together – the freedom, the terrible things people did. And she remembered Holly, stranded in a life she hated, away from Kyle and her friends.

  Marilyn left the coffee shop and walked back upthe hill. Her mobile buzzed.

  “Meet me at 4, remember? Holly”.

  Marilyn stared at the phone. How could this message have come from 1962? She couldn’t believe it, but there it was. She opened the second message.

  “Be round at 2 4 project. Hope U R OK after lst nite. Kxx” It was already past two o’clock.

  Kyle was at the door, waiting for her.

  She let him in. “You okay?”

  “A bit bruised, but I’ll live. Can’t let them get to you.” Kyle brushed his hair back from his face. There was a purple bruise on his right eye, and the makeup he’d put on his left didn’t match.

  I leave Sheila at the top of the stairs. Let myself out through the café. Pull the door locked after me. See Dave sitting on a wall across the road. My heart jumps.

  I go to cross the road towards him. Turn back while I wait for a car to go by. Sheila’s pulled back the lace curtain. She’s watching out of her bedroom window. Then the curtain swings back.

  Dave looks up as I cross the road. Like he knew I was coming. He’s looking better this afternoon. Had a shave. Clean tee-shirt. I can see the muscles underneath.

  “You coming for a ride?”

  His motorbike is by the wall. Gleaming.

  “Haven’t got a helmet.”

  “Who cares?”

  He’s right. Who cares? He’s not wearing one.

  He kicks the bike off its stand and flips a leg over it. The bike adds to him. Makes him look stronger, taller than he is. “Come on then.”

  I climb onto the bike behind him. Never been on a motorbike. Mum would kill me if she knew. Especially without a helmet.

  Even with a helmet.

  He starts the bike. It roars underneath me. Very sexy. He turns round and takes my hand. Pulls me towards him. So I’m holding on round his back. I hold on. Tight. My body shapes itself to his. I lean my head on his shoulder.

  He takes us miles out of the city. My hair streams out behind me. I learn to sway with the bike. Trust him to take corners without coming off.

  I love it. The energy of the ride. Excitement. The smell of his jacket. And his hair. The engine between my legs.

  I could go on like this for ever.

  He slows the bike. Stops at the top of a hill. You can see the countryside all around. Fields and woodland. Spring. Fresh green. City lying beneath us. The sun’s shining.

  He motions to me to get off. My arms and legs are stiff from holding on. I’m giddy from the ride. He gets off. Puts the bike on its stand.

  Steadies me with his arms.

  And we’re kissing again.

  Out here in the wind on top of the hill.

  There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  He gets a rug from the box on the bike.

  Spreads it out on the ground under a tree.

  He smiles at me.

  No need for words.

  “Holly, where’ve you been? What’s that cut on your arm? I’m so worried.”

  Holly’s mum was standing in the hallway, as if she’d been waiting for the key in the door.

  Marilyn stopped. “Let me get in – here’s Kyle. I’ve been down at the coffee shop – with Sheila, I mean Mrs L. She was showing me some photos. Of the old days. For my project.”

  “Kyle, would you help me sort out my daughter?”

  Holly’s mum caught sight of Kyle’s bruised eye and her tone changed.

  “What the hell is that? Right, you two, get in the living room – I want to know what’s been going on. Now.”

  There was no sign of Martin. Kyle and Marilyn sat next to each other on the sofa, and Holly’s mum sat opposite, on the edge of her chair, her legs crossed. Her foot kept time to a fast beat that couldn’t be heard.

  “What have I done wrong? It’s this wretched culture, nobody’s safe. Go on, tell me – what happened to you both?”

  Kyle and Marilyn looked at each other. They’d had no time to construct a story, no time to plan.

  Marilyn knew she had to calm Holly’s mum down, quickly. “It’s fine, mum. Just a little scratch. Nothing. Don’t worry.”

  Kyle tried a lopsided smile. “Yeah, it’s cool, there was this lamp post where I didn’t expect one to be and it came up and whopped me in the eye. I’ll be suing the council.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” But the beat of the foot was slowing down.

  “It’s true, honestly.” Marilyn looked Holly’s mum in the eye.

  “You’d been drinking – I know you were. How much did you have? You didn’t take anything, did you? Did you watch your drinks to make sure they weren’t spiked? What will your dad say?”

  This was safer ground. “Yeah, a bit, but not much. Dad doesn’t need to know.”

  “I’m really sorry,” said Kyle, looking up at Holly’s mum through the purple eyes.

  “How can I resist that?” Holly’s mum uncrossed her legs, relaxed back into her chair and gave him a smile.

  “You know, stuff happens.” Kyle shifted on the sofa, and a flash of pain crossed his face. Holly’s mum saw it.

  “You’re not okay – are you hurt anywhere else? I knew something was going on. The truth, now. Has anyone looked at you?”

  “No no – I’m fine, really.”

  “Kyle’s going to help me with my project – come on, let’s get on with it.” Marilyn stood up and Kyle followed carefully.

  “I suppose I can’t expect to know everything. I know you look after yourselves – and each other.”

  “Yes Mum. We did.”

  They went upstairs.

  “That was close. If she’d found out I’d be in big trouble.” Marilyn didn’t know what kind of punishments Holly’s mum used.

  “I’d be grounded for a month – she’d have been onto my dad, and I’m keeping well out of his way. Afte
r the car. Dreading going to the police station tomorrow.”

  “Better keep out of her way for a while too.”

  They went into Holly’s room and Kyle set up the machine.

  “You know, you talk in a strange way, the last few days. It’s cool, but it’s like you’re talking out of some old book.”

  Marilyn didn’t know what to say to that.

  “Cool,” she said awkwardly, “I just thought I might you know, like, make some changes.”

  Kyle went on at the keyboard. It seemed Marilyn didn’t sound as strange as she felt.

  This life felt real to her now. Her old life was so far away. There was so much she loved about this one. Even after last night.

  She wrote a text to Holly. She pressed send.

  A shiver of doubt went through her spine.

  It must be well after three. We’re lying here on the rug, looking at the branches flying about in the wind. It’s spring. The leaves are fresh green. You can still see the sky through them. The sun. We’re far away from home.

  I think of Kyle. Of everyone in my life. That life.

  “I have to go.”

  Dave’s lying beside me.

  Holding me.

  “In a bit.”

  “You know, you’re not like everyone says.”

  “Tell you a secret. I read. From the library. Nobody knows. There’s a job there. Applied. Manager says I’ve got a chance, being as they know me and that.”

  He’s playing with my hair.

  Then he kisses me again.

  I groan. Sit up. Smooth down my hair. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Right. Wish we could stay. Here.”

  “Me too.” And I’m not lying. This is real.

  “Come here again? Tomorrow?”

  “Maybe.” My heart pulls.

  We get back on the bike.

  I lean my head on his back.

  Hold him tight.

  Smell him.

  Maybe I should stay here.

  Maybe I should be Marilyn. Have her life at uni. Live through the hippy times. Summer of love.

  With Dave.

  Maybe.

  He lets me off at the bottom of the hill.

  So my mum won’t see.

  Marilyn’s mum.

  I’m crying.

  He wipes the tears from my face. With his fingers.

  Gentle.

  “See you tomorrow then.”

  He starts the bike again.

  “Dave…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Nothing. I don’t want to go.”

  “Yeah.”

  He revs the engine.

  I watch him leave. Round the corner and onto the Portway.

  Speeding off until he’s out of sight.

  I can still hear the engine.

  I climb the hill for the last time. It’s a few minutes to four.

  Don’t know if I want to go.

  I see the house. With the mum. And the dad. And the little brother. Andrew. Wonder how he will grow up.

  Maybe I want to be Marilyn.

  Maybe I am her.

  There’s no way to say goodbye.

  Nobody will know why I’m saying it.

  It’s a lonely place.

  I’m not sure I want to leave at all.

  Want to cry.

  Don’t know what to do.

  Then a text from Marilyn comes through.

  “I think I want 2 stay here.”

  Kyle leaned back from the keyboard and laughed.

  “Here you are, back in 1962. Look at these clothes! And they’ve got the music too – listen.”

  A stream of music Marilyn knew so well flooded into the room. She could see the girls in the pictures, the families. She knew them, knew these people. They were her people. She thought of Andrew. She couldn’t stand him most of the time, but he was her little brother. She even missed her mum.

  “There’s loads here for your project – you don’t need to look any further than this site, it’s got everything.” Kyle was absorbed in the pictures.

  “Right.” To her enormous shock, Marilyn was gulping back the tears, homesickness, everything she’d been through the last two days engulfing her at once. She wished she’d never sent that text.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Kyle put his arms round her and hugged her tight. “You and me, we’ll get through, we always do.”

  “But it’s not enough. I have to go.”

  “We only just started – for your project.”

  “I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ve got something – to do. At four.”

  “Will you be back?”

  “No – yes. You’ll see Holly again.”

  “I’ll stay here then.” Kyle turned back to the keyboard and scanned through the pages. “I’ll bookmark some of these for you.”

  “Thanks, Kyle. Thanks. For everything.”

  “It’s cool.”

  Marilyn took a look round the room and left. She crept downstairs to avoid Holly’s mum. She heard her singing loudly to the radio, in the kitchen. Safe. She whispered goodbye.

  She shut the front door after herself, and she could see the bus stop. She walked through the gate. There was nobody at the stop.

  She wavered. She could just go back in as if nothing had happened. Nobody would know. She didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know how she’d get back, or whether they’d ever be able to do it. She couldn’t imagine how it had all happened. Or how it would end.

  A text came through. Holly.

  “But U cant stay there. Thats my life U R living. U cant steal it.”

  Holly was right. She couldn’t let her down. Holly had saved Kyle’s life. Perhaps Marilyn’s too.

  At least Holly didn’t want to stay in Marilyn’s life. Though why should she? And Marilyn was here, wasn’t she? At the bus stop. She must want to go back.

  She looked up at her bedroom window. Imagined Kyle up there. Blinked away the tears.

  “Ok. Lets try it. Where R U? Its 4.”

  The text came straight back.

  “Here. Where R U?”

  I’ve no idea what to do. It’s four o’clock and I know something should be happening.

  I want to run. I am petrified.

  I think hard. My life back home. Kyle. Saleem. My mates. My family. My plans. The plans that seemed so important when I wrote to Marilyn. It was the life I’d wanted out of.

  I think of Dave.

  Take a deep breath. Focus.

  I’m going home.

  But I don’t know what to do to make it happen. I feel stupid standing here. A bus comes along and stops to pick me up. I wave it on. The people inside stare at me. I turn my back on them.

  I know Marilyn’s here. On the other side of whatever gap this is we slipped through. On Friday. Can’t believe this is only Sunday. How much can happen in two days?

  How much can change?

  I can almost feel her. But I’ve no way of reaching out. I think of all the movies I’ve seen. All the TV series.

  But nothing seems to match what’s happened to me. To me and Marilyn. I feel like I know her. Know her from the inside.

  Nobody could make this up.

  Marilyn stood by the bus stop, gripping the mobile. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought about time travel, but nothing happened. She even tried jumping off the ground, but she just landed back down again where she’d been. She was frightened. She felt stupid, and sad, such a mixture of emotions. This was her decision. It was hard, and painful.

  She thought of Kyle, trawling through 1962 in her room. She thought of the club, and the man outside, and Sheila, and the coffee shop.

  She thought of her future, all the possibilities of everything that could happen to her, good and bad.

  She thought of Holly, stranded in a life she didn’t want.

  “I can’t do it. You’ll have to help.”

  I’m willing my way into her mind. Like in the dream when Kyle was getting a kicking. I do it as loudly as I can. But I don�
�t know what I’m asking her to do, how it could happen.

  It’s ten past four.

  And it’s beginning to rain.

  And my hands are shaking.

  Marilyn looked across the road. Saleem came out of his house and right towards her. She looked round, but there was nowhere to hide.

  “Were you okay last night?”

  He smiled and stood too close to her. She noticed her hands were clenched.

  “Yes, I…yes, we were fine. Thanks. For helping.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “He could’ve killed one of us. Me, or Kyle.”

  “Who’s Kyle?”

  “My friend – the one he was kicking.”

  “The one you were all over?”

  “My friend, right?”

  A bus was climbing the hill towards them.

  Saleem was still looking at her.

  “Hey, do you want to come out sometime? A movie?”

  Marilyn couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Saleem, asking her out. But it would be Holly who went out with Saleem.

  The bus wasn’t stopping, or even slowing down. Saleem stuck his hand out for her.

  “What do you say?”

  The bus stopped. Nobody got off. She didn’t move.

  “I don’t know. Not my call. Why don’t you ask tomorrow?”

  Saleem looked confused.

  He was the most attractive boy she’d ever met. She liked him.

  The driver opened the door. “Come on then, haven’t got all day.”

  “And Saleem…”

  He was standing there, watching her.

  “Thanks, okay?”

  With a sinking heart, Marilyn climbed on. There was nothing else she could do. She had to get away. But she was going in the wrong direction.

  Away from 1962.

  She fumbled for some money in her pocket, paid for a ticket and slid into a seat. There weren’t many people on the bus, and she looked round to see if Saleem had gone. She saw him watching the bus leave, then cross back over the road. The bus crawled off, dragging through the traffic and the rain that had started to come down. It was two stops till she thought the coast was clear enough for her to get off. By then she was down by the park, and the clock on the Co-op said 4.28.