Oh dear! Her life anyway. She glanced out the window, she glanced at her watch. Oh God, what was she thinking? nothing, everything, nonsense, just nonsense
But she knew what she was doing. She did. Whatever time it was. Not long anyway, just whatever, and home before five thirty, easily. They would still be asleep. She had time, time.
Jill and Caroline were looking at her. Helen frowned. Caroline said, You were talking to yourself.
No I wasnt.
Jill said, You were.
Sorry. I hope it was sensible.
No.
Oh well … Helen smiled, and tried to yawn. Are you two not tired? she said. I’m exhausted.
The taxi approached her area. She settled back in the seat. Whatever she was deciding. Although she had decided. She didnt know when, but that she had. So just like how to do the next stage, that was her; how to go forwards because like her mind was haywire, all night long, with useless stuff, nonsensical stupidity and nonsense, such stupidity and so so nonsensical. She thought about things and then she didnt. The last thing ever was what she would do. Yet she knew she would do something. Even changing her clothes to go home; back in the ‘green room’. She knew it then. Her mind had, without her knowing. Decisions decisions. She had decided. Her mind had done it for her.
The taxi turned into her street.
Danny watched her in the rear-view mirror. She unlocked the seatbelt. Caroline opened the door and shifted to allow her out. Not tonight but tomorrow, said Jill.
Helen smiled. Not tonight but tomorrow, whatever that might mean. She waved while heading towards the steps up to the house. Once the taxi was out of sight she returned along the street.
There was little traffic. She walked for nearly ten minutes before the next available taxi. It must have been the changeover period from night to dayshift. Ten minutes was a while. That was the trouble her phone not working, she could have called the local minicab office. The people there were okay.
Anyway, the hackney was good for anonymity. Although the guy was so slow, so very slow. Some drivers do that, why do they do that? Nobody knows. Life has its secrets!
She could have gone to sleep there in the back seat. It was still dark, although only just, and a strong bleeze blowing. She didnt have a plan, not a proper one, only to arrive at the junction, at the traffic lights, and follow in the direction they were headed yesterday morning. It wasnt too forlorn. London was an impossible place anyway. She needed a point to begin. This was the best, the obvious. Where else? There wasnt any else.
If others saw it differently. How could they? That was them if they did. Helen was Helen; she could only do her best. She paid the driver and set off walking. At least it was dry.
The driver didnt drive off immediately, he was watching to see where she went. Strange how they did that.
She crossed the road, glancing over her shoulder, walking steadily towards the corner under the streetlights. The street off from the main road. She walked towards here, and along. It was quiet. And risky; of course it was. Women should be able to walk the street at night but there is a difference between should and could. If she had been giving advice to Sophie or any young girl it would have been never to do what now she was doing. But people do things and they have to; it is wrong to see choices, not if there arent any.
It was almost like claustrophobic. Or no, what was it? Some other phobic. A phobia. She had experienced a thing similar in the past to do with confidence, and her ex, it was him and whatever, she didnt know what to do just like standing still, that was all, like a panic but just so quietly and that cold sweat, just so — not able to move.
She was not cold. She didnt feel cold, she wasnt, except shivering, if she did, if she was.
She was cold.
On the other side of the street, what was that? a walkway? There was a grass verge then a walkway, concealed partly by bushes. This skirted down a little slope. How close was the river? One of the main city bridges was less than what away? A good walk. In this vicinity homeless people were rumoured to live underground. Caroline believed it: Jill didnt. Neither did Helen because where? It seemed impossible. Although there were places farther along where the bank of the river rose quite high and you could imagine underground chambers and passages. Old London, it was a creepy place with these old underground streets and stuff from ages back. It was so not far-fetched. Really. And these old mine-workings. Nobody even knew where they were, except they were everywhere, old mines and dead bodies, trapped workmen in their vaults, collapsed beams and landslides, all the coal breaking through and smothering you, like the worst dream imaginable, being a miner. These underground places could connect via the sewers, like in movies about New York, opening a cover in the street and hearing voices, seeing lights and down you go and people all are living there, flotsam and jetsam, the dregs, they called them the dregs but they were just people. But how ever could they enter without being seen? The police stood by and watched, or else had their camcorders in position, recording everybody, escaped murderers and serial killers. You couldnt believe what you heard or read. People blabbed and told lies in the newspapers and television, reporters and politicians, men of the church, you saw their faces when they were telling you, child abusers, and they were just like blabbing and it was all lies, people hanging themselves and apples in their mouths, to do with perversions and all the sordid details, dressing up like chickens or babies wearing nappies. Laughable if it wasnt so dreadful, and they didnt care if it was babies anyway, they didnt care, just like their own needs and desires.
She was not going along the walkway. There was lighting. She was not going. If it was a place the two homeless guys would have gone. Probably it was, if there were benches; probably there were benches. So a place to sit, to rest, if you were homeless. God. But Helen was not going along it. These places were creepy, very very. Okay she was brave but not foolish.
She was brave.
But she was.
One thing about working in casinos, like creepy guys, it prepared you for them. Every night of the week there was something, including ‘propositions’. She told Mo about them, she shouldnt have. It was to see the funny side. Although it was true, men did ask her out on a regular basis, and they werent all drunk! And they werent all creepy. Some were nice, not bad and not horrible. Mind you it was better he didnt know about them. That was a mistake she made with her ex. She thought he wanted to hear. He said he did but he didnt. Some did: they liked hearing about other men fancying their women or whatever, even sleeping with them, him and his nude sunbathing, why didnt he do it? Helen nearly told him about Mr Adams. He was the very one she wanted to tell. That was so so strange. He was the very one never to tell but she was wanting to, so so wanting to and like having to stop herself doing it, put a scarf in your mouth my God what would he have done he would have killed her.
A car coming. She turned her head to avoid the appearance of looking, in case the driver thought something he shouldnt. The car continued on but quite slowly like she was ‘on the game’, if they thought that, the driver. God, if she had been. She wouldnt have been walking the street. Never, never never.
What would she have been doing?
Not in the street anyway! My God it was so so uncomfortable!