Another PlanetA Story by Alistair Canlin My attempt at a love story
Another Planet
Her eyes looked down on him as he lay back on his bed. He felt safe with her watching him; there was a knowing look in those crystal blue eyes. He wished that moments like these could go on forever, just him and her, their eyes locked no need to say anything. She was his and his alone.
The clock clicked on and the alarm sounded. His worst part of the day, the time when reality called.
He dressed, catching furtive glances at her. Was that a smile across her lips? He glowed inside, felt safe.
If only he could run his fingers through her hair, smell her if only for a moment, but reality beckoned. The world outside demanded its pound of flesh from him.
He smiled as he left.
Did she smile back?
The wind went right through him as he waited at the bus stop. The same old faces all staring off into space, none of them daring to break the silence, utter a single word that may burst their bubble and let the big bad world inside.
The doors hissed shut behind him; the faces now all stared blankly out the windows.
No eye contact.
Mustn’t make eye contact.
He found a seat towards the back of the bus, one safely away from others, but from where he could easily watch what was going on.
The world passed by, like a silent movie being acted out before him. He could only watch. Never take part, never get a staring role.
The bus stopped and let on some more passengers. Over the years, months and days he’d given each one a name, never knew who they were, but had named each one.
There was Doughnut, an old lady who wore her jacket fully buttoned up, no matter what the weather, and always wore the same hat, that looked like a large sugared doughnut. Hence the name. Doughnut always sat next to Wiggy, another old lady who wore a wig that was so bad you could see right into the weave.
Then there was Jabba, a woman so large she only just made it down the central aisle. It would take her ages to find a seat, anybody behind her would have to wait, she would chat to everybody especially the men.
He slunk further into his seat and pretended to be asleep until Jabba had found her spot. An inane cackle bursting forth as she made as if she’d said the funniest thing in the universe.
The world passed by again, people repeating the same thing they did yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.
Again the bus stopped, on came Speedy, Smiler, Jacknife and Knobhead.
Then there was a new one, one he hadn’t seen before. She was slight, almost small. She had a slightly frightened look in her eyes, one that she tried to disguise. She had dark dark eyes, her brunette hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a plain white blouse under her black leather jacket that she pulled close around her.
Not that he noticed.
He stared out of the window, for some reason he was blushing as she sat in the seat in front of him, her ponytail falling over the back of the seat.
He tried not to look, but she was mesmerizing. He forced himself to make patterns and faces out of the stains on the window, but he kept glancing back to her.
The world started moving.
She didn’t even know that he existed. All the trees, buildings and people could disappear and still she wouldn’t see him. He was just one of those people. Instantly forgettable.
Sometimes he liked it like that, safe in his bubble, just watching, watching the world go by.
He looked out of the window and felt the crystal blue eyes upon him, her smile, he imagined her laugh. She was always there, the one true constant, she made him safe.
He was smiling when he got off the bus, and he didn’t care, although he did make sure that Jabba didn’t see him. If she got the wrong idea then he was done for.
Even as he approached his work the smile remained, a minor miracle. The security guard at the main desk eyed him suspiciously as he signed in and said good morning.
Just the merest thought of her had done this, this miracle.
People crammed themselves into the elevator, squashed like sardines, too close to someone’s armpit than was physically natural.
Their moans and gripes faded as he headed for the stairs. He glanced at the handrail, sod health and safety he thought, and bounded up the stairs two at a time. It was only five floors, and not one of them dampened his mood.
He could feel people watching him as he beamed his way towards his workstation.
Was a smile such a freakish sight?
Big Mildred glared at him from across the way. Her moustache was getting bigger. She quickly disappeared from view when he tried to wave.
Post-it notes surrounded his computer, each screaming out for his immediate attention. He put his jacket on the back of his chair and slumped down onto it.
The computer hummed into life, not really a happy tune. He scanned some of the notes, orders, instructions and demands. Oh what it was to be popular.
“I need those by one.” A pile of papers were dropped on his desk by Mr Harvey, a squat man with a bald head and odour issues. He was gone before another word could be uttered.
The pile of papers lay there like an accusation. He flicked through a few and sighed.
The computer binged at him, one hundred and forty seven emails called out to him.
He let out another sigh, his smile now a distant memory.
Was this what he wanted to do with his life?
What had happened to his childhood dreams?
Fat chance of him being an international spy now. A beautiful woman on his arm, the arch villain’s plans falling foul of his superior skill and intellect. Being decorated for services to his country.
The computer told him he had one hundred and forty eight emails.
“Did you get the Burnett account?”
“Course I did, I am the Burnett account.”
Two flash young men in sharp suits marched passed. They had an air of confidence, almost arrogance.
“If it wasn’t for me this company wouldn’t get any of these accounts.”
Big Mildred caught him watching and sneered at him. He quickly looked back at his computer. One hundred and fifty three emails.
He sighed.
As he glanced at his watch he quickly calculated how long it was until his break.
He looked at the notes stuck to his screen, then he did something which would never normally even have entered his head. He picked them off and each one he tore into tiny pieces and put them in his bin.
He could see her smiling, those crystal blue eyes sparkling; he could imagine the sound of her laughter, like the song of nightingales on a summer’s night.
“What’s the matter with you?” Kev broke his thoughts, his weasely face peering at him over the wall of his workstation.
He just shrugged.
“You look like you’re a million miles away.” Kev persisted, now coming round and sitting on his desk.
He felt uncomfortable; Kev was the office gob, whatever he said it would be round the place like wildfire.
“Just tired.” He selected as the easiest option.
“Oh aye, late night was it? You and your little lady?” Kev winked lewdly.
He wished he hadn’t told Kev anything, it was just two weeks ago he’d told him about her, her crystal blue eyes, her smile. Now he letched over every snippet of information.
“Just tired.” He repeated.
“I bet you are.” Kev nudged him and laughed before sauntering off.
One hundred and eighty one emails.
The clock on the wall clicked a little closer towards his break, Big Mildred tutted at something.
He wondered why he got out of bed in the morning.
One hundred and ninety two emails.
He held his head in his hands and sighed.
“Another late night?”
He looked up and saw Karen looking at him; Kev had already started his work. “Don’t you start.” He mumbled.
“I was only asking.” Karen twiddled the gold cross that always hung round her neck.
“I’ve just had Kev give me the third degree.” He moaned.
“Doing his usual muckraking?”
He just nodded.
“I hope you didn’t tell him anything?”
When Karen laughed her face completely changed, it lit up, she became younger.
“I need those reports by one.” Mr Harvey waddled passed; he’d picked up too much momentum to make his bulk stop.
Karen pretended to smack her wrist and sauntered off.
Two hundred and eight emails.
Big Mildred groaned.
He flicked through the pile of papers, numbers, numbers and more numbers. He didn’t know what any of them meant, let alone what he was supposed to do with them.
He played about with the mouse until the required programme opened up. With one of the papers in one hand he started entering the numbers into the computer.
He imagined her smile, her smell, the sparkle in her eyes. He wished he could be with her, holding her, laughing at each others jokes, letting hours drift by while it felt like seconds.
Two hundred and seventeen emails.
He glanced up at the clock. Nearly there. He tapped in the last few numbers, staring at the clock, willing it to go faster, urging it on, just one final click.
He held his breath, his body tensed.
Click.
Like a coiled spring he was up, ignoring another groan from Big Mildred.
The wind howled round them, making fallen leaves dance frantically. A puff of blue smoke wrapped round him, enticing him, caressing him, tantalizing him. He’d given up smoking a year ago, but still he tortured himself by standing in the doorway with the other addicts. His hands twitching inside his pockets, old urges rising, fingers clasping an imaginary cigarette. Just one puff, one puff won’t hurt. He beat the demon down, a small victory, the only thing that made him alive.
Apart from her.
He imagined her arm around him, her praise washing over him, he basked in the sensation.
“Fancy a f*g?” Kev shoved a smouldering butt in his face.
He glowered, but the temptation was close, just within reach.
“Forgot. You don’t anymore.” Kev smiled as he took a long drag.
His hands could easily tighten round Kev’s neck and squeeze tight, watch him turn blue, his eyes bulge and his body fall to the ground like a useless bag of bones.
“So this burd of yours?” Kev blew out a cloud of blue smoke.
He sucked some of the smoke in, let it linger, tingling, then he sighed.
“You don’t say much do you?”
“Nothing to say.” Kev thought for a second, taking this on board, running it round his head, taking another drag.
“This burd of yours, she got any mates?”
He stifled a laugh, turned it into a cough, pretended the smoke had affected him.
“You could put in a good word for me.” Kev had a look of desperation, his eyes almost pleading
“We’ll see.”
“You’re a star mate.” Kev slapped him on the shoulder “A star.”
People started to filter back inside, Kev turned and followed. He lingered for a bit, savouring the moment, the peace, the smoke.
The wind blew through his bones urging him back inside.
Big Mildred’s eyes narrowed as she watched him approach. Then she quickly disappeared from view. He took up his seat in front of the computer.
Two hundred and thirty six emails.
“You got those figures yet?” Mr Harvey managed to stop.
“Just putting the last ones in now.” He thought for a moment about calling him sir, then decided against it.
“So long as they’re done before one.” He manipulated his bulk into forward movement.
A tutt came from Big Mildred’s direction. One of these days he’d take a look at what she did, she was always there when he arrived in the morning and still there when he left. She never moved and forever tutted, but he couldn’t remember when, or if, she spoke.
The clock moved slowly, each second taking an age.
Two hundred and fifty one emails.
He continued entering the figures, the keys tapping out a soulless rhythm. His eyes blurred as he stared at the screen, everything merging into blobs.
He imagined summer evenings, autumn strolls, fallen leaves kicked high, her laugh, her warmth, the twinkle in her eye.
“I needed those twenty minutes ago.” He was brought back to reality by a frantic Mr Harvey, hoping from foot to foot.
He glanced up at the clock, half past one, a frown rippled his forehead.
Mr Harvey performed his frantic jig, pretty nimble for a man of his size.
“Printing now.” He clicked a few buttons.
“Bout bloody time.” Mr Harvey marched towards the printer.
The clock had returned to its usual sluggish pace, he frowned. Big Mildred tutted.
Two hundred and eighty four emails.
He felt like screaming, throwing the computer through the nearest window, but of course he didn’t. That would be being spontaneous, and apparently he didn’t do spontaneous.
Another minute clicked by, the computer hummed, Big Mildred tutted, while he felt like his head rattled. Empty of all useful thought. Since his time in the office all had been sucked out of him, leaving an empty husk, nothing but a wage slave.
His mind flooded with images of her again, could she be his saviour, could she turn his life around?
Two hundred and ninety emails.
He sighed.
Lunchtime. Now was as good a time as any. He pulled his jacket from the back of the chair and headed out, without a backwards glance.
The wind almost carried him to the small café across the road. It was all yellow formica tables and uncomfortable plastic chairs. He chose the table in the corner, where somebody had left a newspaper, something for him to hide behind.
“The usual?” The woman behind the counter bellowed at him.
He nodded and smiled meekly, burying himself in the newspaper, apparently some popstar had got their hair cut and this warranted a two page spread and a detailed history of her previous haircuts.
The bell above the door chimed, as someone else entered. He absently glanced up.
It was her.
The girl from the bus.
Her hair was slightly dishevelled from the wind, and she still had that slightly frightened look in her eyes.
He hid behind the newspaper, occasionally glancing over the top. He couldn’t help it, she was captivating. The way she ordered, the warmth of her smile.
He tried to control himself by reading about a serial killer, girls missing, bodies found in a wood. He peered over the newspaper, she was fixing her hair.
“Here you go.” The woman from behind the counter slid his plate across to him.
He blushed and prayed he hadn’t been caught.
“She’s a bonnie one.” She did her best to whisper, but for her it still came out loud.
He blushed even more.
The girl glanced over.
He felt like he was going to explode.
He was sure she smiled, there was definitely a smile.
A mumble of thanks of some sort came out of his mouth.
The woman laughed heartily at him.
The newspaper couldn’t hide him, he felt as if his blush would burn right through it.
She had definitely looked in direction, a minor victory in his eyes, even if it was just so that she could laugh at him as well.
He kept glancing at her, finding himself unable to stop, but he made sure that eye contact was never made. A few near misses, which caused his blush to intensify to the extent that he could probably power a small country.
She ate lightly, a small salad and a couple of slices of bread. He watched her pick at it selecting the choice pieces.
If she was to talk to him, or even look, or smile he didn’t think he would know what to do. He was rubbish at that sort of thing, socially inept and emotionally stunted. He would probably end up slavering all over himself. The gift of the gab, the ability to bullshit, something he had never acquired. He could remember being jealous of people who could, who seemed to wrap others round their little finger. All he could manage was a couple of grunts, before he felt he was being laughed at.
The final morsels of his lunch tried to avoid capture as he chased them round the place with his fork.
“Are you finished with the paper?”
He looked up into her eyes, they didn’t look as scared, they looked like warm dark pools. Her voice was soft and seemed to wrap round him.
“The paper?”
A strangled grunt was all that came out of his mouth. She looked at him with bemusement and made to leave.
“No please, take it.” He forced the words out, one high, one low, one broken, one mangled.
“Thanks.” She smiled and took the paper.
He basked in the warmth of that smile; it was for him and him alone. He was for a brief moment the king of the universe.
“You done luv?” A hand reached across and snatched his plate away.
He crashed back down to reality, returned to her own table; she might as well have been on another planet.
He headed back to work, shuffling reluctantly towards the building as if he was the condemned man climbing the gallows. The doors did everything but clang shut behind him. It was as if he could hear the deathly drumbeat with every step he took.
Three hundred and forty eight emails.
Big Mildred was still at her desk, the odd tutt and huff escaping her.
He wondered if the thoughts he’d had about the girl in the café would constitute cheating. They were only thoughts, there was no chance he’d ever do anything about them. There was no chance she’d even look at him again.
“What the hell you playing at?” The roar seemed to come from all around him.
He didn’t want to look up.
“Those figures were absolute nonsense.” Mr Harvey was bright red, his head looking like the cherry on top of a large cake.
“Figures?” He tried to act dumb.
“You know what figures.” His face turned even redder “You made me look like an idiot.”
Everybody was looking; even Big Mildred had poked her head up to see what all the fuss was about.
“Sorry.” All he could do was shrug.
“Sorry? I’ll give you sorry.” His face looked as if it was going to burst “You can clear your desk.”
There was an intake of breath from all the onlookers.
“And don’t think you’ll get a reference.” Mr Harvey swung his bulk into motion and headed off.
Lots of concerned looks and pats on the back, but somehow he didn’t feel bad, he felt like his sentence had been cut.
Three hundred and sixty three emails.
He laughed.
Everybody stared at him.
The laughter became like spasms, he couldn’t stop them.
He turned and ran, bolted through the door and bounded down the stairs. He hardly noticed the wind whipping all the rubbish into a manic dance. He headed for the café.
Why?
No idea.
Just as he reached the door she was there standing in the doorway, her hair getting whipped by the wind. Her eyes didn’t look frightened, they stared straight at him. He could almost hear the violin music.
“I…” The violins ground to a juddering halt.
She smiled, she didn’t laugh, she smiled.
She took his hand, his heart was pounding its way out of his chest, but she looked calm, reassuring him.
He wanted to scream out loud, cry to the heavens, let his joy ring out, but he had another idea, a better idea.
He turned and ran back towards his former prison; she followed still clutching his hand. It felt right, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle.
Faces stared as they strolled towards his desk. He felt a million miles tall. Whispers spread, Big Mildred looked up, was that a smile beneath her moustache?
Mr Harvey rumbled onto the floor.
She smiled at him, he basked in her glow.
“I thought I told you to clear your desk?” Mr Harvey’s face was beetroot.
“I am.” His voice was calm.
“And you know the rules on unauthorised personnel.”
“We’ll be gone soon.” Her voice was warm, almost made Mr Harvey soften.
“As soon as I clear my desk.” He smiled at Mr Harvey.
Four hundred and twelve emails.
The last message the computer said as he picked up the screen.
“That’s company property.” Mr Harvey proceeded to erupt.
Wires popped and snapped, bits dragging after him as he carried the computer over to the open window.
“Are you insane?” Mr Harvey danced in rage.
“Never felt better.”
Things went silent as he watched it fall, sailing almost gracefully through the air.
“Never felt better.”
He took her in his arms, not even watching as the computer crashed on the ground below, and lost himself in her kiss.
Guilty?
Not really.
He lay in bed looking at her crystal blue eyes and blonde hair, that same knowing look he felt he knew so well.
Guilty?
Tomorrow was a new month, he’d turn over the calendar and another beauty would stare at him and offer him the world.
Guilty?
Why should he be when he now had his own, his own little piece of perfection and the memory of that kiss.
It was as if he had managed to find his way onto that other planet.
© 2008 Alistair CanlinReviews
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Alistair CanlinGlasgow, United KingdomAboutIt was raining the day it happened, the day everything changed, the day the world changed forever, the day I was born. A monumental moment you may say, well if you believe my Mum I was born asleep, s.. more..Writing
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