The Laundry Basket

by G. M. C. Lewis

  “All done, Akwasi?” says the lady behind reception.

  “I hope so,” says the man. “I’d like to see my wife at some point this weekend.” Chloe straightens up and looks out of the glass towards the car park.

  “Here you go,” she says, handing him his personal items. “Hopefully we won’t be seeing you till Monday then.”

  “Fingers crossed,” he says with an enormous smile. “Have a good one,” he says as he walks out of the door.

  “Here we are, Mrs Kent,” says the woman, handing Chloe a visitor’s security pass. “That’s all fine. If you’d like to wait in the waiting area, we’ll let you know when he’s ready.”

  She waits patiently scratching varnish from her nails – which will need sorting out if she’s going anywhere tonight – until finally she is taken through to one of the visiting booths. There, on the other side of the glass, is a grey-haired man, wearing a pair of thick-lensed glasses that have copious amounts of tape at both corners, holding the arms to the frame.

  “Hello, Dad,” says Chloe into the phone mouthpiece, as she smiles at her father.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” says her father. “How’s my darling girl?”

  “I’m fine Dad, just fine. How have they been treating you, Dad?”

  “Can’t complain, love. What about young Karl? How’s he doing?”

  “Great, he’s got a match today, so he couldn’t come along, but he said to say hi. They’re doing really well – second in the league and playing the leaders today, so if they win they’ll go top.”

  “Oh, good lad.” There is a momentary pause as her father skips asking about Jim. “Listen Chloe, have you thought any more about what I said last time about getting yourself a job?”

  “Dad, there really isn’t any need – Jim’s work is doing very well and I’m not sure I could find the time anyway, what with looking after the house and ferrying Karl around and so on; I can barely find a minute to myself anyway.”

  “I know love, all I’m saying is, you never know what’s round the corner and I just like to think that you’re strong enough to make it on your own, if you ever have to. I know you’re sleeping between silk sheets right now and, when you’re comfortable, it’s hard to imagine that anything bad could happen, that circumstances could change. You know Chloe, I won’t be around for ever and I just want you to know that…” He looks around the insides of the booth, as if seeking the right words to say.

  “’Ere Dad, what’s that on your neck?” says Chloe, sounding suddenly concerned.

  “Oh it’s nothing, love,” says her father, holding the back of his neck with his hand and smiling at her. “Just some of the lads messing around, you know how it is in here.”

  “Well it looks nasty Dad, have you had it looked at?”

  “No honestly love, it’s just a scratch. I’m fine. Hey, so have you got any holiday plans?”

  “Oh, I don’t know Dad. Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “I’m really fine. Oh, by the way, Seamus asked me to say hi to you.”

  “That was nice of him – is he alright?”

  “He’s fine –” says her father.

  “Excuse me, Mrs Kent?” One of the prison guards has put his head around the door behind her.

  “Yes?” says Chloe.

  “Are you the owner of the green Range Rover in the visitors’ car park?”

  “Oh yes, sorry, do you need me to move it?”

  “Yes please, you’ve blocked someone in.”

  “Right, coming now – Dad, I’m really sorry, I’ll be back –”

  “No don’t worry love, we won’t have any time by the time you’re back through security. You go and enjoy the rest of your day. Send my love to Karl. It was lovely to see you. Think about what I said, OK?”

  Her father seems about to stand up and then holds himself and says:

  “Chloe?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “I love you.” Her father is looking at her in a funny way.

  “I love you too, Dad.”

  “OK, well… You take care of yourself.”

  “You too, Dad; I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  “Goodbye sweetheart.”

  She gets back out through security and, after picking up her personal possessions, she walks back towards her car. She switches her phone on and logs on to the dating website. She gets a chat request immediately and responds straight back. She looks at the profile as she waits for him to take the next step, glancing up occasionally to navigate her way through the parked cars. “How are you?” he asks – not exactly the smoothest operator she’s ever come across, but she’d be willing to forgive a lot with a physique like that. She replies, then looks up – there’s a young couple stood by the blocked-in Clio.

  “Sorry,” she says, as she opens her car, “you were taking up quite a bit of room though.”

  She gets in and glances at the chat – another message. She needs to keep the momentum going so she asks the guy to tell her what he wants to do to her and then switches on the ignition and reverses the car. The Clio reverses out and drives away, the passenger waves out of the window. She looks down at the chat window; no reply. Shit, she doesn’t want to lose this. She asks if he can meet her tonight and straight away gets a “Yes” back. Oh, look at that six-pack! She tells him where to go and to wear a red rose, gives him her mobile number and, once she has his number back, she goes to her photo files and finds the one she uses for such occasions and buzzes it through to him.

  On the way home, Chloe stops at the supermarket to pick up some salad ingredients for lunch. She pauses in front of the fresh herbs, holding a pot of coriander and a pot of parsley; she likes the taste of the coriander better, but the parsley looks like a more robust plant. After a moment’s indecision, she puts the parsley in her trolley, then, as she puts the coriander pot back on the shelf, she puts her hand into the cellophane and tears off a bunch of the flimsy herb and shoves it into her parsley pot. She picks up condoms on the way to the checkout.

  Shift

  Ben unlocks and locks each door as he and Kate make their way out of the prison. They always knock off early because it takes about half an hour to get from the library to the staff exit. They wait in front of the cameras at the security barrier, to be cleared, before the automatic doors open. They pass by the X-ray machines and into the final vestibule made of bulletproof glass and wait patiently as the door behind them slowly closes. After a pause, the door in front slowly opens. They collect their personal belongings and finally, as they walk out of the front of the building, the shift ends and they can relax.

  “Any plans for the rest of the weekend?” says Kate.

  “Yeah, I think there’s probably going to be a bit of a gathering on the street tonight,” says Ben.

  “Does that equate to an enormous party by most people’s standards?”

  “No – honestly, it’ll only be a few hundred at most. You want to come?” says Ben, smiling.

  “No chance. Once was enough. That place is crazy.”

  “And then on Sunday we’re going to watch a football game.”

  “What, really?” says Kate shocked.

  “Yes, really – you remember Pedro?”

  “How could I forget!”

  “He loves Millwall and he’s been badgering us to go to a game for months. Their ground is only round the corner. So we finally decided to go along – ‘we’ as in the rest of the boys from the house. It’ll be like a school trip.”

  “Well, be careful – the crowd can get pretty nasty at Millwall games…”

  “Yeah, sure. I’d say the biggest danger is for someone else in the house to actually start liking football, then we’ll really struggle to keep it off the box. What about you – any plans?”

  “Oh, I’m exhausted – TV and a takeaway for me, I reckon. Would you look at this?” says Kate suddenly. Ben looks up and sees that a huge Range Rover has blocked in Kate’s Clio.

  “Nice one – some people are such mo
rons,” says Ben. “Don’t worry, they’ll have everyone’s number plate on the visitor list. I’ll ask them to send the idiot out.” Ben takes a photo of the vehicle with his phone.

  Ten minutes later and a woman is walking towards them, clad in heels, leopard print leggings, sunglasses and a furry coat. She says something to them about it being their own fault, which they both ignore, as they are already immersed in their phones and their evenings and the people they choose to spend their time with. The woman moves the Range Rover, Kate reverses out and as they pull away Ben waves to the lady with one hand as he lights a spliff with the other.

  “Not in the prison car park,” says Kate.

  “Oh come on. It is but a lightly aromatic Moroccan squidgy black blend that I rolled specifically for leaving the prison car park. I shall roll up the window until we are clear. Oh, listen to this tune!” Ben turns up the radio on which ‘Little Fluffy Clouds’ by The Orb has just started.

  “It is a great tune,” says Kate. “Wow, that really takes me back. Give me a toke, you man of evil influence.”

  Kate gives Ben a lift back to Sanford, and as they roll through Greenwich, they reminisce about legendary Glastonburys, Womads and Whirl-y-gigs they have been to. As Kate pulls up the car outside the gates of the housing co-op, it is clear that the ‘bit of a gathering’ is gathering momentum. An enormous rig is being unloaded from the back of a rainbow-coloured van and further down the street there are already dozens of people milling about, juggling fire, slack rope walking, or standing about drinking and smoking and tapping their feet to the music, which is currently thumping out of the windows of the houses. The rain has momentarily stopped.

  “Kate, why don’t you stick around? It looks like it’s going to be a good one,” says Ben.

  “OK, I’m in. Where can I dump the car?”

  They meander slowly down the street, past the orchard-topped bicycle shed, the raised beds and wildflower gardens, stopping at every heavily laden bench and table to tip the hat and pass the bat, until they reach Ben’s house, where the party is already well under way. Even though Kate has only been there once and it was some considerable time ago, she is remembered and warmly absorbed into the mayhem. Apart from Tanya, who has gone away for the weekend with Tem, and Pete, who rarely surfaces for long at such gatherings, the whole house is in the kitchen, along with a considerable array of usual suspects arranged around the dinner table, laughing and shouting with each other to be heard over the music and their own racket. Sammy is pouring Kate and Ben absinthe while shouting something at Kate about farmers having sex with their animals; Hendo and Elsa are arguing over the desktop in the corner about which music to put on next, an argument that appears to have gone feral and is being resolved with tickling and punches in the arm; Nat is rolling joints on the table and nodding periodically to Pedro, who is talking loudly into her ear, his eyes like dinner plates; Billy is sat opposite Pedro, talking to a couple of girls that Ben thinks he recognises from House 6; and, over in the far corner of the kitchen, is Anna, talking to Quincy from House 2. Ben takes one moment just to drink her in and, as if she feels his eyes on her, she turns and for a second the room around them disappears.

  *

  The general rule of the street is, don’t date other people from the street, never mind the same house: a rule that is frequently broken. Ben and Anna have been seeing each other for about a month, but have been taking great pains to keep their relationship from the rest of their housemates. Still, it’s only a matter of time before someone notices their stolen glances or one of them sneaking from the other’s room in the morning. As if they are both thinking the same thing, they pull their eyes away from each other. Ben turns to Kate and Sammy, who is holding a burning spoon with a sugar cube in it above the aqua blue glass of absinthe.

  “… And apparently the suction pulled his guts out of the end of his penis,” concludes Sammy.

  “Fascinating,” says Kate. Sammy hands Kate a flaming glass. “Bottoms up!” Then, turning to Ben, he says:

  “Tough day, mate? Peds has got something for you, should take the edge off…”

  Ben squeezes through the tangle of bodies to Pedro.

  “Hey Benjamin, they le’ you out of the prison? We shou’ celebrate, huh? Excuse us for a moment, Natalie. Hey Elsa, may we use your room?”

  “Door’s open sweetheart,” says Elsa, who is kneeling on Hendo’s chest and punching him in the legs.

  Pedro leads Ben out of the kitchen and into the quiet of Elsa’s room at the back of the house.

  “You had a good day brother?” says Pedro.

  “Not bad mate,” says Ben.

  “Hold onto your socks, man – it about to get a whole lot better.” Pedro pulls a cellophane bag out of his pocket that is full of brownish white crystals. “Man, this MDMA is a fucking madman! Fill your boots brother, fill your boots.”

  Ben takes out his credit card, pulls a CD case from Elsa’s tower and tips out a little mountain of crystals onto the case.

  “Is that enough?” says Ben to Pedro.

  “Man, you take as much as you like,” replies Pedro, staring at the crystals, rubbing his stubbly chin and gurning as he does so. “If it too much, Pedro tidy up for you.” Then he looks at Ben and smiles like a maniac.

  “OK, you got a rizla?”

  “Sure, but maybe you like better up the hooter.” Pedro takes a crisp tenner from his wallet and rolls it up into a tube, then hands it to Ben. Taking Ben’s credit card and the CD from him, he sits on Elsa’s only chair and begins to chop and crush the crystals into a fine powder.

  “Hey, so what’s going on with you and Anna?” says Pedro.

  “What do you mean?” says Ben, suddenly showing a keen interest in Elsa’s CDs. Pedro turns from his duties for a moment and waits silently, motionless, for Ben to meet his eye. When he finally does, he says:

  “Man, you think Pedro don’t notice when people in love? Everyone in the house they notice. We just have to wait until we are full of drugs before we can talk about it.”

  Ben smiles in resignation.

  “I think I’m in love,” he says, relieved to be able to talk about his feelings with someone at last.

  “I know it,” says Pedro.

  “Peds, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. She’s brave, she’s generous, she’s unbelievably attractive –”

  “Eh, make a joint while you’re talking – if we doing this, let’s do it proper,” says Pedro, handing Ben his tin, “and put this up your nose first.”

  “Oh sure,” says Ben and, taking the offered tubular tenner, he snorts half of the thick line of MDMA powder up his right nostril and then the rest up his left. “Oh holy shit, that stuff is disgusting!”

  “’E like Satan piss in the back of your throat, huh? But the angels will come and chase he away soon enough. Hey, I make another line for me – you make the joint. And please continue – you think Anna, she attractive…”

  “But it’s more than the usual stuff when you get together with someone. It’s like we know what the other one is thinking half of the time, but then, just when I think I know her, she does something amazing and unexpected. It’s like she’s half soul mate and half mystery.”

  “Man, it sound like a healthy combination, but you know I got to say it – you living in the same house, you spending all your spare time with each other. Go slow man, tread carefully. When things come together so good, so fast, sometimes they can go right back in the opposite direction at the same speed.”

  “I know Peds, we both know it and we’re trying to be sensible. We’re both trying really hard to stay independent of each other, to keep doing the things that we were doing before this happened, but it’s difficult – we want to be together all the time.”

  “Well that’s good,” says Pedro, looking at Ben, and then he bends his head down to the CD case and snorts an enormous line up his right nostril.

  “You only use one nostril?” asks Ben.

  “The other one al
ready full,” says Pedro, smiling. “Hey, you going to roll that joint or not? You been holding those two rizlas for five hours. Give it to Pedro.”

  “Oh OK, what was I saying? Jesus, that stuff is strong – I’m off my chops already!”

  “’E nice be off the chops, eh?”

  “Sure is,” Ben is taking deep breaths. “Mate, I think I might’ve overcooked the goblin.”

  “The goblin?”

  “I mean the goose, or something. Do you know what I mean? I mean, I feel a bit sick, or I’m coming up too much, or, I mean, what was I saying?” Ben is puffing away and rubbing his legs.

  “Don’t worry Benjamin,” says Pedro calmly as he rolls the joint. “Pedro, he look after you. I finish making this nice joint while you tell me how happy you are at the moment with the wonderful Anna and then we go back out to the party and have a good time. OK?”

  “Yes mate, that’s right. Hey, thanks Peds, you know you’re one hell of a mate. You know I hate the fact that we have to wait until we’re off our chops before we tell each other how much we love each other, but I do – I mean, I love you Peds, you know not in a gay way, I mean you’re like family to me, all of you are.”

  “I hope how you behave with Anna is not how you hoping to interact with the rest of the family.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Of course. Hey, listen to Pedro for a second. Be very careful with Elsa.”

  “What d’you mean?” says Ben.

  “I mean, she like you a lot. I think she have a crush on you a leedle bit, so for sure you and Anna is out of the bag, but just don’t be too blatant in her face – you understand?”

  “Sure, Peds – I didn’t realise.”

  “This is why you need a Pedro to tell you these things.”

  Pedro glances at Ben, who is looking a little crestfallen.

  “Hey, don’t worry, Elsa’s gonna be fine. She still sad about her ex who fell off the motorbike, but she coming out from under the cloud. She find a man soon enough. You don’t got to be worrying about that. What you got to be worrying about right now is this.” Pedro holds up the completed spliff.