Chapter 8 #2
He shrugged and looked at his feet, tapping his toes together a couple of times as if trying to wish himself back to Kansas. Had I touched a nerve? I could totally see how my question about his choice to stay here might have come across as belittling, whereas – if anything – I was jealous.
‘I guess I’m one of those people who’s destined to stay in one place, you know?’
‘I used to feel the same.’
There was a pause that should’ve felt awkward but actually felt quite comfortable.
And there were those eyes again, glancing up from the ground and locking on to mine – just for an instant, but an instant nonetheless.
‘So, what have you been up to since school?’ I asked.
‘This and that. You might remember that I never did finish my A levels – what with one thing and another. I ended up getting an apprenticeship at an office in town. I’m still at the same company now, though I’ve worked my way up a bit.’
‘Ah, nice. What kind of work is it?’
‘Oh, it’s pretty dull: we do facilities management for some local businesses. But we’ve been getting some pretty big contracts recently and we’re hoping to expand to other locations in the next couple of years so, yeah, it’s all worked out quite nicely.’
‘That’s really great – I’m pleased for you.’
‘The feeling’s mutual, Amelia.’
I felt heat in my face again, and was grateful that this particular part of the forecourt was poorly lit.
‘I, er, actually go by Mally these days.’
‘Noted. Suits you.’
At that moment a tow truck pulled into the forecourt, a rhythmic honk interrupting the conversation.
‘Amelia Allister! The Double-A!’ It was Ryan Seldon, reminding me from his wound-down window about a horrific school nickname that’d been bestowed upon me when I’d been late to blossom in the boob department.
As with any attempts to bully me – which had been pretty frequent when I started secondary school given my in-built awkwardness – I’d always laughed it off.
I’d figured that a smiling victim’s not really a victim, are they?
I instinctively applied my idiot-repellent grin as Ryan wound up his window and switched off his engine.
Tom spoke quickly under his breath. ‘Yeah, Mally, best if you ignore the vast majority of stuff that comes out of Ryan’s mouth. Deal?’
I nodded once. ‘Deal.’
Ryan hopped down from the cab and elbowed Tom in the ribs by way of greeting.
‘She goes by Mally these days, Seldon. And it’s a hard no on that fucked-up nickname, okay?’
‘Righty-o. Well, what are the chances eh, Tom?’
Ryan gave Tom an imperceptible look that lasted maybe half a second longer than felt normal. There was definitely an element of a smirk to it and I swear I saw Tom’s neck go ever-so-slightly blotchy.
I spoke first to break the perplexing moment that seemed to be passing between them. ‘Thanks so much for this, Ryan.’
‘No worries at all. Good job your knight in shining armour was here to rescue you, eh?’
Wow, did Ryan fancy a job at The Helix ? Iancompetent would probably hire him in a heartbeat. On the flip side, perhaps I’d just had a sufficiently ‘awkward encounter’ for my trope-seeking article? After all, this ridiculous situation with my car could’ve come straight out of a Hallmark movie.
Tom spoke before I even had the chance to chuckle blandly.
‘Ryan, seriously, do I need to sign you up to another “casual misogyny” workshop?’
What was happening? A man calling out his unenlightened mate’s sexist remark? This felt… refreshing.
Tom mouthed ‘Sorry’ to me and rolled his eyes.
‘Oh, she doesn’t mind, do you? You look different, by the way – I mean I’d still recognise you. But, yeah, you look different.’
Ryan’s West Country accent was much stronger than Tom’s. While Tom’s was more of a gentle twang, a bit like mine, Ryan’s was unabashed, proud Bristolian. Lots of people found the accent harsh or grating, but I’d always loved it. It sounded like home.
‘Umm, you also look different…?’
He… really did.
‘Yes, yes, I lost all my hair in my early twenties. A painful blow. Thankfully I was already married by then – to Carly, one of the twins? The fun one.’
Oh my God, he was married to Carly? I couldn’t wait to tell Elle about this.
‘Nice – congrats!’
‘Ta! Yeah, unlike Tom, I didn’t get much luck in the ageing department – he’s truly Scarnbrook’s very own Paul Rudd.’
I laughed at the reference but… Ryan was totally right. Tom really didn’t seem to have aged a bit. Apart from those dashes of greying hair around his temples, and some laughter lines around those mesmeric eyes, it was almost as if the last two decades had skimmed right over him.
We removed my shopping from my boot before attaching Dad’s beloved car to Ryan’s truck.
‘Right, then, I’ll give you a call in the morning once I’ve had a gander at the damage. Tom said you didn’t start your engine after the misfuel?’
‘Thankfully not.’
‘Yeah, if that petrol had worked its way through the system it could’ve caused a right old mess in there. Hopefully I can give the tank a straightforward flush and that’ll be that.’
‘Phew, thanks so much, Ryan.’
‘Not a problem, not a problem at all. Need a lift anywhere?’
Tom spoke quickly again before I could answer. ‘It’s fine, Ryan, I’ve got this.’
‘I bet you do, Brinton.’
The blotches crept ever-so-slightly further up Tom’s neck.
Ryan climbed back into the truck and fastened his seatbelt. As he started the engine, he leant out of the window once more and said, ‘See ya, Tomelia!’ before driving away.
‘ Tomelia?! ’
Tom shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Just one of his less funny puns, I guess. Anyway, where can I take you?’
Pretty much anywhere, Tom Brinton.
‘I’m staying in Scarnbrook, believe it or not. I’ve got the address on my phone; let me just find it…’
I followed Tom to his car, which was still connected to the now-dormant tyre pressure pump.
As I searched through my emails to dig out the postcode, one thought kept running through my head: Tom Brinton had remembered me.
But it didn’t mean anything, of course. Because, for the grimmest reason, everyone in Scarnbrook would remember me.