“How are you Anya? We’ve all been worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” Anya didn’t want to talk. But then she didn’t want to be rude either. “Thanks.”
“I’ve brought my son to help, no doubt there’s a lot of lifting to do.”
‘So’ Anya thought, ‘Martin was Mr Lupton’s son, no wonder he had spoken so little about himself and had never asked me out. It wouldn’t be appropriate for him to screw one of the laundry girls.’
“You want this all to go?” Mr Lupton asked appraising whether he had brought a big enough van.
“Everything. And everything upstairs except the stuff in the bathroom. I’m keeping all that.”
“We will find a good home for as much as possible.” Martin said, “There are so many families that need furniture. We’ll have to burn some stuff as we can’t distribute anything soiled.” He nodded towards a pile in which Anya noticed, with some embarrassment, was the pale blue of her bed cover.
Anya thought again of Marion in her flat in the tower block. Perhaps her furniture had come from a house being cleared under circumstances such as these.
It took Martin and his father less than an hour to load the van. From the twitching of her neighbours’ curtains she knew she was not the only one watching as they removed her bed and wardrobe, her mother’s bed, the front room carpet. Everything she was familiar with, the backdrop of her life, became interlocking geometrical shapes in the back of a van.
When all was done the three of them sat on the bare boards of the front room sipping at the mugs of tea she had made to give herself something to do.
“I’m glad you called my father Anya, I’m glad we have been able to help.” Anya tried to identify the qualities in Martin’s voice. There was pity, condescension and what she recognised as an intrinsic superiority.
As they were leaving Mr Lupton handed her a brown envelope which she looked at but made no attempt to open. “We had a collection.” He explained. “There’s two hundred and fifty pounds.”
“Two hundred and fifty pounds?” She repeated involuntarily, it was an unimaginably large amount of money.
“Everyone wanted to contribute, and then there was the three day’s pay you didn’t collect.” She thanked him too briefly and too hurriedly shut the door. The tears came unwanted but unstoppable as she curled up on the bare floor. There was no blue quilt, as there had been all her life, to comfort her and it was a long time before she pulled herself together and remembered her other comfort when she was alone and afraid, her diary.
Sunday 16th August 1970
Tomorrow is the beginning of my new life. I’m saying goodbye to being the illegitimate daughter of the cheap tart (that’s the only way she could have earned any money) who lived at 16 Tennyson Street. I’m saying goodbye to not being good enough for the stuck up son of a man whose only success in life is to own a laundry. I’m saying goodbye to everything and everyone I’ve been in my life.
I’ve changed in the last two years, I’ve become a bit of a snob. I like men with manners and clean finger nails, I like people who speak well and use words properly. So from now on I’m going to be like that, I’m going to get some decent clothes, lose my accent, become one of those people who take advantage of others not one who is taken advantage of.
Resolutions: 1) justify Miss H’s faith in me, 2) never let myself be looked down on by anyone 3) find out what the ring and the dress mean 4) one day find Vincent A Cave.
Anya looked at her writing in the diary, barely making out the words she had written in the gloom. It was nearly dark but she was damned if she was going to put any more money in the meter. It was too dark to do anything but she had nothing comfortable to sleep on so she carried on making resolutions for the future and writing some of those thoughts in her diary.
Can you make life into what you want it to be? I might like men who speak well and have clean finger nails but they won’t like me will they? I’ll just be someone they sleep with before going back to their posh, rich, fecund girlfriends. I might get a good degree but if I’m going to be one of them I’ve really got to be someone completely different. Martin liked me but he wouldn’t ask me out because I wasn’t good enough for him. It’ll be the same with everyone else. If they know the truth about me no one will think I’m good enough for them so I’ll be very careful who knows what and where I’ve come from. I’ll be very careful who knows I’m sterile. And why.
She looked around the room which was brightening as the full moon rose above the roofs of the houses on the opposite side of the road. She would never spend another day in this house. She pictured what it had been a few weeks before with her mother sitting on the settee and the television in the corner.
I wish the house could talk. It could answer some of my questions like am I right? Is Vince my dad? Did he ever stand in this room? It’ll never be able to tell me other things though. Is he still alive? Is he looking at this full moon now? Are Albert and Elizabeth still alive? Maybe they live round the corner and have kept an eye on their daughter all these years. Perhaps they’ve heard she killed herself and that her daughter is homeless? Would they even care? If the shame was too much for them when their daughter needed them it still would be now. When I leave here tomorrow no-one will be able to trace me even if they wanted to. Only the Hills know where I’ll be and no-one knows about them. After I leave here tomorrow only one person will be able to help Anya Cave make the life she wants and that’s Anya Cave.
Dr Hill and the agent for the Hodge brothers arrived at exactly 9.30 the next morning. They walked through the empty rooms that had been her home but she had already moved on and they now meant nothing. A small sum was agreed to cover the replacement of several cracked window panes and Anya paid with cash from the laundry collection. She was surprised at how quickly it was all over and by noon they had arrived at the Hall of Residence that would be her home for a year.
“Are you sure that’s all you want us to keep for you?”
Anya had asked him to store her silver trunk of diaries and a small case into which she had packed the contents of her mother’s box and the dress. She was taking only the clothes she wore, her files of notes and textbooks.
“You won’t lose touch will you? Dot, that is my sister, is rather fond of you, you know.”
“I’ll try not to let her down.”
“I’m sure you couldn’t.”
Anya found it remarkably easy to say goodbye to the man who was one of her only two friends in the world as she began her new life in the Hall of Residence she had dreamed of for two years. She was shown the refectory, the common room and finally her corridor and the room, F10, that would be her home. As she put her books and files on the shelves of the small desk she tried not to focus on how much her world had shrunk.
16 Tennyson Street had only been a two-up-two-down terraced cottage but as well as her bedroom she had a kitchen, a bathroom and the front room. She hadn’t always had the house to herself but she could usually have a bath when she wanted, make a mug of coffee or eat when it suited her and, when her mum wasn’t around, she could watch what television programme she wanted. Those freedoms now seemed like luxury. F10 was a very small room. There was only the bed or the uncomfortable desk chair to sit on. If she wanted to watch television she would have to go to the common room and watch the channel others had chosen. She sat on her bed and wondered why she had thought this was a good idea.
She soon pulled herself together and sat at the desk, pulled out her notebook and listed what she would achieve in the seven weeks before the term began.
•Buy: Colour co-ordinated kitchen stuff, good quality Poster (Van Gogh Starry Night) calendar. Clothes good quality, blue and white. Red shoes.
•Work: Read papers and set books. Plan Dissertation.
•Me: RealiGet a tan, sort nails and hair, slim! Accent! Voice!
Monday 5th October was the day she would dress in her skin tight denims, prize on her high heeled red sandals and wriggle int
o her skimpy white t-shirt. That was the day Anya Cave would join the world of the people who took advantage.
Chapter 4: Beginnings
Liverpool, September 1970
“Who is that girl?” Geoff nudged his neighbour in the queue for supper in the Hall’s refectory.
“Where?” Mark looked up from his feet to where Geoff was pointing.
“You have to ask? Look over there.”
“Wow!” Mark was never one to use two words when one would do.
Geoff had been standing in the queue wondering whether this would be his third and final year in Liverpool or whether he would go for a fourth. In six months he would be 21 and he would have control of his money so the decision was his. He was pleased to be back after the long summer vacation, free to be himself again away from his mother and sister and their ever more blatant encouragement of his relationship with Fiona. He tried not to think of Fiona and his failure to get her to go all the way with him. He didn’t love her; he simply hated losing a challenge.
“I haven’t seen her before.” Geoff was interested in the girl with the long brown hair and the faraway look in her eyes.
“We’d remember.” Mark’s thick Glaswegian accent seemed to emphasise his admiration.
“Yes, I think I might.” said Geoff thoughtfully.
He watched the girl as she threaded her way between the tables. He hadn’t wasted his two years in Liverpool experimenting with drugs as others had done. He had spent his time with girls and believed he could judge, at first sight, how far they would go and whether the effort would be worthwhile. This one was tall, slim and confident, walking as though she knew many eyes were on her. Her tight t-shirt emphasised her breasts, the clean white cotton showed off her tan and the shine in her long dark hair, the tight jeans displayed her every movement as she walked.
“Go and bag two seats next to her.” Geoff instructed his friend. “We don’t want anyone else getting there first and there’s at least fifteen ahead of us in this sodding queue.”
“OK.” Mark always did as Geoff said. He threaded his way between the tables and just managed to reach his target before a group of five giggling girls.
“OK to sit here?” He asked Anya politely.
“Sure.” She was disappointed at the sandy haired, freckled boy but hoped her voice wouldn’t discourage him. It was either him or the girls and she couldn’t stand giggly girls.
“Hi I’m Mark.”
“Anya.”
“Are you a fresher?” Mark thought he had better try to be friendly but chat up lines had never been his strong point.
“No. Final year.”
“Haven’t seen you before.”
“My first in Hall.”
“Yeah?” Mark was doing his best to elicit information for Geoff. He knew this girl was out of his league.
“I live, used to live, only a few miles away you see. There seemed no point in paying for hall when I could live at home.”
“Oh.” Then he thought of a good question. “What are you doing?”
“History.”
“Oh.”
“You?”
“Maths and Computer Studies.”
“Ah.”
There was an embarrassing silence as all topics of conversation appeared to have been exhausted. Anya began eating and Mark sat there, hoping desperately that Geoff wouldn’t be much longer.
“Don’t you eat?” Anya asked looking pointedly at the empty table in front of Mark.
“Geoff, that’s my friend over there, he’s getting my food.”
“You can’t get it yourself?”
There was no way Mark could avoid admitting their motives. “He wanted to sit with you and he thought the table would be filled by the time we got our food. So…”
“So he sent you over to do the embarrassing bit.” She smiled, relieved that perhaps Mark’s friend Geoff would be less awkward, he certainly seemed to be the leader of the two. “That’s good of you, you must be good friends.”
“We are.” Geoff answered her as he arrived with two trays which he just managed to get flat on the table before he dropped them. “Hi.” He said looking at Anya, ignoring Mark. “I’m Geoff.”
“This is Anya.” Mark said. “She’s in her final year doing History but this is her first year in Hall as she lived within commuting distance.” He thought he had done well in acquiring so much information.
“Hi Anya.”
If it wasn’t love at first sight it was certainly lust.
Geoff had already decided that he would sleep with this girl, probably more than once, and it would definitely be worth any effort that might be needed. He bet himself ten pounds he would get off with her that evening.
Anya looked at the man sitting next to her. Whereas Mark had been a boy, a bit awkward and gangling, Geoff had already grown into his body. Even sitting down she could see he was tall and the shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows showed he was muscular. She imagined those arms around her and his body on hers. It had been a long time. She wanted a man and this Geoff, who spoke with a rather posh southern accent and had perfectly clean fingernails, would do quite nicely.
They didn’t talk much as they left the refectory together but as soon as they were out of the building and Mark had tactfully disappeared Geoff pushed Anya against the wall and kissed her, pushing his tongue far into her mouth to see if she resisted. She pushed herself against him, encouraging him, teasing him, loving the feeling of control, loving the anticipation of pleasure. No one seemed to take any notice as they weren’t the only couple groping each other in the dark garden. Within minutes they were in Geoff’s room which Anya had time to notice was a lot bigger than hers. He locked the door behind him.
“OK?” He asked.
“OK.” She agreed.
They had both known from the moment they had first seen each other what was going to happen sooner or later and both wanted it to be sooner.
Two days before Geoff had thought he was finally going to get Fiona to go all the way. They had been lying on a blanket in the wood at the bottom of his garden his hands kneading her small breasts as he half lay across her. His left hand moved to push her skirt higher and she had not resisted. He felt awkward and uncomfortable, a bracken stalk was pushing into his shoulder, but anticipation of success kept him from shifting his position. As he grew more excited he had forgotten he was with Fiona, thinking of the girls he had been with in Liverpool. ‘No, Geoff, no don’t. Stop it!’ She had pushed him off her and stood up, straightening her blouse and skirt before walking towards the house without a backward glance. ‘Fucking prick teaser’ he muttered under his breath. If his mother hadn’t been old friends with her parents he wouldn’t have given up so easily. He didn’t follow her, staying to work himself to a climax in seconds.
His summer of forced abstinence came to a spectacular end as Anya stroked, licked and bit, then let him do exactly what he wanted.
Throughout that Autumn Geoff made no mention of Anya in his regular phone calls home. He told himself he was just waiting for the right time to tell his mother that she should forget any hopes she may have that he and Fiona would get together. He had no way of describing Anya to his mother. She was his girlfriend, lover, co-conspirator, room-mate, friend, sounding-board. In a short time they were inseparable.
Despite strict rules in the first mixed hall at the university, she wasn’t the only girl who spent every night on that corridor in the men’s hall, so they woke up together, they went into the university together where they separated for the days studies and then met up every evening in the Union bar. University life was exactly as the old Anya had hoped it would be. They spent the evenings together, shut up in his room or working or watching television curled up together on one of the uncomfortable chairs in the gloom at the back of the common room. Mark didn’t resent Anya’s taking over of Geoff; he knew he could never compete with her for Geoff’s attention. He doubted anyone could.
In the first week of Decembe
r, however, Mark saw much more of his friend because Geoff and Anya had first argument.
“Are you looking forward to Christmas?” Geoff had asked innocently enough as they waited in the rain for the morning bus into the campus.
She didn’t answer immediately. She had been worrying about the holidays and desperately wanted Geoff to ask her to go home with him but didn’t know how to get him to suggest it.
“Not sure. I haven’t really thought about it.” She answered, thinking that would give Geoff the opportunity to invite her.
“I’m off home next week.”
“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to her that he would be leaving so soon, most people were staying at least another week, some weren’t leaving until the week after that, some weren’t going home at all.
“Won’t you be going home?”
In the months they had been together they hadn’t talked much about their home life. Anya knew that Geoff lived in Kent and had a sort of girlfriend there, Fiona, who he didn’t like very much. He knew no more about her than he had learned that first night. She had said nothing about her family or her home. He had never asked.
“I haven’t got one.”
It took a few moments for that to sink in.
“You haven’t got a home?”
“No, and no family. Both my parents are dead.” Surely he would invite her to go home with him for Christmas when he knew that.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to be, it’s not your fault.”
“What happened?”
But she wasn’t going to be side tracked, if he wasn’t going to ask her she’d have to ask him.
“Can I go home with you?”
She wasn’t prepared for his anger. “God no Anya! You can’t possibly do that!”
“Why the fuck not?” She could be angry too.
“Don’t even think about it.”
There was something about his tone of voice that made her lose control. She almost shouted her response. “You’re ashamed of me! I’m not good enough for you! I’m good enough to screw but not to meet your precious bloody mother!”
Highly Unsuitable Girl Page 5
