Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
L evi
“And this is the cafeteria.” The dark-haired and smartly dressed young woman, who’d been introduced to me as Emery, leads the way through some double doors and into a large dining hall. The central area is filled with square units of tables and chairs, and to one side is an area serving food and drinks. It’s bustling with people who are eating, moving between the tables, or stacking empty trays on trolleys near the exit. It feels so busy but much more civilised than the communal eating areas I’ve had to use in the past. I’m pretty sure I won’t be beaten up for sitting with the wrong group of people.
“The food’s pretty good, though many students go off campus to eat,” Emery says, and then turns and heads back the way we came. “I can give you a list of the best places if you want.”
“I’ll err, figure it out,” I reply and she nods, seemingly unaffected by my response. She’d been assigned to show me around the campus as part of my visit this morning. I’d filled in the application form online a few weeks ago, and when I didn’t hear back from them, the slim hope I’d had that they’d let me join the hospitality course diminished daily, so it was a surprise when I received the acceptance email a few days ago.
Although most of the course is delivered remotely, there are a few sections that require on-site attendance, so today was a visit and orientation day. The course itself will start in the new year. This is a level four course, and hopefully I can complete it in a few months and then take the next levels.
As we make it back to the college entrance where we started the tour, I turn to Emery.
“Are you always on the welcoming committee?” I ask, and she gives me a bright and enthusiastic smile. One that dazzles, with perfect white teeth like you’d see in a commercial.
“I’m studying travel and tourism, and I get extra credits if I show people around.”
“Well, thank you. I’ll try to remember everything when I come back next year.”
“You’ll be fine,” she says, oozing reassurance, and I can see her doing just the same as a tour guide on some holiday or cruise—calming nervous travellers and placating the ones who are determined to find disappointment in everything. She seems perfectly suited to her chosen career.
I leave the college and walk back towards the city. It’s the first time I’ve been out of Larchdown in several months. As I get towards the centre it gets a lot busier, and for some reason I feel out of place, longing for the quiet of the small town. I’ve started going for coffee with Josh and Alex, and now I know a few more residents, I call out greetings to them when I see them in the village. Here, I walk through a sea of unknown faces and it makes me feel like hiding from them even though I know no one is looking at me. But the old feeling of being judged is back and it makes my skin crawl.
Eventually I find the address Marina gave me and stumble through the door.
“Levi. This is a nice surprise,” Ami calls out from across the shop, then her voice turns to concern. “Are you alright?”
“Hi Ami,” I greet her. “I’ll be alright in a minute.” I don’t feel like explaining what had me spooked; I don’t think she’d understand anyway.
“How about a cup of tea?” she asks, and I agree, smiling because like Marina, tea is her first line of defence against anything. But when she brings back the large steaming mug of sweet tea, I can’t help but think there must be something in it as I start to feel better immediately. I feel ashamed that just going out among lots of people could make me feel like that. I’ve shared quarters with murderers, but then, they accepted me for who I was. Now it’s the judgement I hate.
“So, why are you here? Not that I’m not pleased to see you of course, but I don’t think you’ve ever been in my shop before and you don’t strike me as a knitter.”
“I might be,” I quip back and she laughs heartily. She’s right of course. Not that I’ve got anything against anyone who knits, and I know from when the knitting group meets at Marina’s that there are a couple of guys who are members. But I don’t have the patience, and I can see myself getting tangled up in it if I tried. It would look like a drunken spider’s web at best.
“Marina asked me to pick up some supplies for her,” I explain, and dig out the list she gave me. Ami takes it from me and looks over it.
“Yes, I have all of this. It’ll just take me a few minutes to put it together,” she says, heading towards the floor-to-ceiling shelves and picking out brightly coloured balls of wool.
“So, what brings you to the city, or are you just running errands for Marina?” she asks as she works her way across the shop to gather the order together. I hesitate because I’m not used to sharing anything about myself. But Ami has always been friendly towards me and I have nothing to be ashamed of, so I tell her about the college course, and she seems pleased, offering her congratulations. Because she seems genuine I find myself blurting out a thought that’s been plaguing me ever since I pressed send on the application form.
“You don’t think it’s foolish to start now? I’m already twenty-three, have I left it too late?”
She stops at the counter, adding the last of the order to the pile, and turns towards me. “It’s the privilege of the young to think they’re too old for something before their time. Twenty-three is nothing really, and you’re never too late to learn something new. I know plenty of people who’ve returned to college in their fifties and sixties and even started new careers after they’ve reached retirement age. I think that whenever you choose to do something because you want to do it is the perfect age.” She gives me a kind smile and starts to place the order for Marina in a bag.
She holds it out to me. “Tell her I’ll pop it on her account.”
I thank her and leave the shop, thinking about her words as I walk along the street. I don’t know if there’s any truth to what she said, but it makes me feel better anyway, so I’m grateful for her.
I don’t take much notice of where I’m heading, but I no longer have the same oppression and sense of being watched I had before visiting Ami’s shop.
I spy a coffee cart and decide to grab one before I walk back to where I parked my car. I can’t wait to get back to the village—to home. As I’m waiting in line I notice I’ve ended up outside the police headquarters, and I shudder at the memory of the last time I was here, giving my statement. A lot has happened since then, and yet it feels like no time at all. The barista makes my order and I turn away, then I stop still because at the top of the steps, at the station’s entrance, is Mac. My body starts to tingle, like every other time he’s near. He’s with the other detective, the friendly one who took my statement, and I feel the familiar tug, as I watch him say something that makes her laugh. How can he make people laugh? He’s tough and serious and usually grumpy—though I know that’s not the whole truth anymore since he told me about his father. Still, he doesn’t strike me as a guy who makes many jokes, and that intrigues me. I feel like I’m watching one of those nature programmes, seeing a cop in his natural environment.
They start walking down the steps and I shrink against the wall, hoping they don’t see me, and thankfully they turn and walk in the other direction. It’s not far to the courts, so perhaps that’s where they’re headed. I watch until they’re completely out of sight before spinning round and walking the other way.
Disappointment that I only got a glimpse of him settles over me. I hate how he can affect me so much, how I want him even if he doesn’t notice me. Then I remember that he’s due to come to dinner tonight, and I feel more alive even though I haven’t even started my coffee yet.