The Hitchhiker
Alex sat in his car for what felt like ages, nursing a takeout cup of instant coffee and watching the snow pile up. It was falling thick and fast; blanketing the bonnet, covering his windscreen, and sticking to the mirrors. Lovely. Delightfully Christmasy. Shame his mood was more Boxing Day blues than Christmas cheer.
He took another sip and grudgingly admitted, just as Alice always said, that vending machine coffee was an abomination.
Coffee, Alex, must be bought in proper cafés, and not the dodgy ones, mind youplaces you can trust! It should perk you up, taste pleasant, balanced, not burned. I keep telling you and telling you At that point, Alice would wave a hand and turn away. She always turned away from him. The smallest thing off-script and shed pout, spin around, huffing and puffing like shed run a one-hundred-metre dash, practically snorting. Like a child, honestly. Would it kill her to just say what the problem was this time? Or how he, Alex, had once again fallen short? But no, she had to keep up the West End drama pausesometimes so long that even Alice forgot why shed started the silent treatment.
Even tonightsoon as Alex stepped through the doorAlice met him at the threshold, sighed theatrically, didnt even bother with a hello. Oh, what now?
Alice, love! I bought us a cake on the way home! he tried, eager for any sign of a smile. No dice. The cake was exiled to the balconynot, thankfully, hurled out the window. She didnt even acknowledge it was cherry, her favourite. And Alex, also her supposed favourite, was home after a rotten day at work, knuckle shredded, patched up with a piece of blue tape. Alice, what now?
Silence. She just flicked the kitchen lights on and off. Then it hit him. Bulbs! Hed promised to pick up new light bulbsthe fancy ones you cant get at the corner shop. Needed a trip to the big hardware warehouse.
Alice, he murmured, sidling over and rubbing her shoulders, how about a candlelit dinner instead? You. Me. The soft glow of flames. And then He kissed her neck. She shivered. Then maybe well make some flames of our own, what do you say?
She raised an eyebrow so high it nearly joined her hairline. Clearly, Alice was fireworksjust not the tender variety. Oh, fantastic. So Im meant to cook in total darkness, am I? Or have you brought tape for all my fingers now? What is itcookery by moonlight? Well, Im not cooking tonight. Honestly, you only think about your stomach. And where have you been, anyway?!
She slammed a kitchen drawer, sending the cutlery jangling. Alex exhaled. Hed had enoughreally, truly enough. Life had become a relentless grind. He missed those days when Alice would only drop by his den for a bit, flutter around, cook up a treat, then leave and there was never any drama. But now shed moved in, declared she wasnt ready for marriage, but lets just live together, see how it goes. Alex had objected at first, fancied himself a proper man of the house, but Alice had only laughed. What are you on about? Im a free agent, Alex! Take it or leave it!
Now this free agent was stomping about, yelling, and making choice remarks about Alexs inadequacy: useless around the house, couldnt fix the skirting board, utterly hopeless, blah blah blah
Things had been rocky for a while. Neither wanted to be the one to call it offit felt too final. So, like people playing at being nearlymarried, they muddled along, with not so much as a spark. Alex barely noticed. Alice, meanwhile, felt it keenlywhich probably explained her nerves.
Get lost! she snapped at last. I cant even breathe with you here! Go!
An uneasy silence clung to the air, even seemed to squeeze his lungs.
Alex grabbed his battered satchel, yanked his decent (if battered) leather jacket from the hook, and marched out, slamming the door.
Alex! Where are you going at this hour?! Alice shouted after him, flapping down the stairs in a dressing gown and comical slippers with furry pompoms. Come back! I said, come back!
Im off, just like you asked! he called, ducking into the swirling snowfall.
He crawled through gridlocked traffic to the edge of town, finally pulling up outside the blindingly-lit DIY megastoreThe Light House. They had everything, from a box of screws to entire bespoke bathrooms. Including, crucially, new bulbs.
Alex wandered over to look at lawnmowers, pictured himself on a country plot, then detoured to the electrical aisle. Tried not to think about Alice. Shes her own woman; so is he. So be it.
Just bulbs? How many you after? the cashier yawned.
Fifty, Alex deadpanned. Stocking up.
She packed up his bulbs, flashed a polite smile, and wished him a pleasant evening.
Yeah, smashing! Same to you, Alex replied, just as deadpan.
Oh, cheers! she blushed, picturing her own planswine, cheese, a feel-good film marathon at her mates house.
Finishing his ghastly coffee, Alex spotted a commotion by a nearby 4×4. A man and a womanpossibly a couple, possibly notwere at odds. He was shouting, slamming doors, she was frantically unpacking boxes from the boot, then dumping them and clinging to the mans neck. He shoved her off, slammed another door, kicked a tyre. Eventually, he jumped into the drivers seat, floored it, and sped off, splattering the woman and her mound of things with slushy snow.
She just stood there, watching as he vanished, then picked something up off the grounda potted plant, some exotic flower. She cradled it under her jacket, hunched her shoulders.
A few minutes passed. She tried to call a cab, to no avail, while her pile of belongings was slowly consumed by snow. Alex considered just driving home, but then Alice sent a message: short, sharp, and ending with Best wishes! in the most insincere way imaginable.
He tossed the phone in the glove box, put his car in gear, and drew up beside the shivering woman.
He wound down the window. Need a lift? Have you tried a taxi?
Sorry? Ohare you talking to me?
You. I can give you a lift, Alex explained, unsure why he was bothering.
Oh, no, thats alright she said, clearly freezing yet still polite. Its rather far. Even the taxi drivers refused. Ill take the bus or something
Both eyed the drift of boxes. The woman gave a little sigh of surrender.
I can pay you, she stammered. Seriously, tell me your price, I have money. But its a long waysorry!
Alex got out, opened the boot, realised his gloves were missing, and just started chucking boxes in bare-handed.
Yes, yes, please be careful, those are fragilethats a light fitting, this is crockery, oh, and
Sit in the car, Alex told her. Honestly, just get in, its warm.
She shrugged, and climbed in. Can I sit up front? Ill explain the route.
Of course! Alex replied, arms full of boxes, muttering, All is vanity! as his gran would say.
When everything was packed, Alex clambered in, beat the snow from his shoes like a circus act, flopped into his seat, and turned to her.
Where to?
Horton. She spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper. Bet youve got someone fretting at home
Horton? Nope. No one waiting. So, Horton He coaxed the route out of the sat-nav, which hemmed and hawed before finally plotting a winding path. Alex whistled.
Told you its far. Taxi wouldnt go. Didnt want to inconvenience you she started, clutching the potted plant like a newborn. He squintedwas that a kalanchoe? Most blokes wouldnt know a kalanchoe from a cabbage, but Alexs mum had run a flower shop; hed picked up a thing or two.
You fond of them? he asked, nodding at the plant. A bit temperamental, those.
Its for my mum, she smiled. Im Jane, by the way.
Alex.
They crept through the snowy outskirts of London. Alex kept quiet, eyes on the road. Jane gazed out the window, sighing now and again. Then her phone rang. She set the plant on her lap, answered.
Mum! Hi! Im on my way. Wont be there for agesroads are dreadful. Not bored, are you?
Alex overheard cheerful squeaking from the other end.
Great. Maybe put on a show. Dont work, please. Give your eyes a rest. Ive got a surprise for you. Promise youll wait?
More heartfelt squeaks.
Love you, Mum! And dont look for our carPeter took it. Ill explain later. Bye, Mum!
She pocketed her phone. Alex coughed discreetly. So, you live in Horton? Its a, what, town?
Not exactly. Village, really. Daft, forgettable name, I know. She shrugged. We make do. No grand architecture or anything. Except a ruined church mum likes to mope around, says it helps her forgive and forget. Works for her, not for me.
Got a lot to forgive? Alex asked, flicking the wipers as the snow came down thick again. Blue lights flashed behinda speeding ambulance. He pulled aside, let it pass, then merged back in.
Sorry, I saw that bloke earlierwell, saw you Wasnt your husband, was it?
Jane blushed, turned away, clearly mortified that this stranger had witnessed her getting dumped in a car park. No, no. My brother. He well, he needed the car. His got towed andoh, never mind.
Needed the car that badly? Alex couldnt resist. Sorry, but thats out of order. Surely he
She interrupted with a gentle shake of her head. Hes used to getting what he wants, always has been. Thats our fault. Hes clever, educated, knows all sorts of things, but
Total pillock, Alex supplied.
She almost smiled. Hes difficult. I suppose we made it too easy for him. Mum always doted on himhe was a poorly baby, didnt breathe at birth, touch-and-go for months. We all pandered, just glad he survived. I took on a lot of the big sister stuff growing up
And you? Alex asked. Did your mum dote on you too?
Not the same, Jane admitted. But, well, I didnt nearly die in hospital, did I? I was the sensible one. No need to fuss. Im not jealous.
Youd be entitled if you were, Alex muttered, the car grumbling too in sympathy.
Jane looked over, half-amused. Can we put the radio on? Long drives should have a soundtrack.
He was grateful for the distraction, thumbed over to the jazz station. You mind jazz?
Jane shrugged, half-smiling. Your car, your rules.
He studied her brieflyalways a giver, that type. The sort to let you go first in the queue, whod quit before fighting for a promotion, whod surrender the last loaf of bread in a shop without a word. Probably worked the same, endless job for years because she never made a fuss.
And youre always like this? Alex ventured. Sorrydoormat?
She could have thrown him and his kalanchoe out the door, but she just nodded, expression resigned.
Really?
Really.
Alice would have decapitated him on the spot. Jane just agreed.
Madness, Alex muttered.
Jane chuckled softly. I always gave way, you know? To Mum, Dad, Peter. I thought keeping the peace meant happiness.
Her life was a string of concessionsher room, her car, even her career. Mum wanted her at the Polytechnic when shed dreamed of being a chemist. But who was she to rock the boat?
Mum needs a peaceful environment to writeshes an author, you see. Couldnt possibly work if theres tension. So I keep things calm.
Alex stared at her. But what about you? Havent you got dreams? Youre lovely, you know. Shouldnt you be having your turn for once? And your brotherPeter, was ithes stitched you up thoroughly. Not to mention the move. What happened to your London flat?
Jane let out a deep breath and, for once, sat a bit taller. Dad passed away, left the London place to Peter. I didnt contest it. Then Peter, being Peter, said we should split it for the sake of his romantic lifebring his women home, you see. We couldnt buy him his own place. Hes a solicitor, promised to sort it all. Sorted us a nice new place, he saidwell, Horton. Not exactly Chelsea. I hadnt a clue, signed the forms, realised too late.
And Peter? Alex was already guessing.
Flat near Westminster. Swish, isnt it?
And you and your mum, out here? Classic, Alex snorted. Did you get a place fit for human habitation at least, or are you still doing it uphence the mysterious cargo?
She grinned, a little sheepish. Total dump at first. Empty, wires hanging, bulb swinging, shadows everywhere. But you know what? Theres a river. Not banks lined with stone and four lanes of trafficjust the river. Mum found inspiration and is writing fairy tales again. I work remotelyI can work from anywhere. You keep shaking your head but its true! I suppose yes, Ive botched a lot of my own life, given up so much, bent over backward to keep everyone happy. Half these bags are things for the neighboursthe old folk, the local school, you name it. It feels good, you know? I actually like it.
She paused, and gave him a playful glare. And dont try to pity me. I made my choices. Im not some waif left out in the cold!
Definitely not a waif, or a dog, Alex agreed, steering them safely onto the village lane. The boxes rattled, Jane clung fiercely to the plant, silent again.
They reached her block near eleven. Jane hopped out, wrapped the flower in a scarf, and unlocked the door.
Alex, leave the boot, Ill manage, she insisted. Come up, its warm and cosy. Ill heat up some dinner. This way!
She led him up past radiators that toasted the hallway, making Alex feel almost sleepy. He was exhausted; dots swam before his eyes.
Here we are! Havent swapped the doors yet. Come inMum, this is Alex. My knight in shining armour.
Mrs. Parsons swept out of the lounge in a pink dressing gown, cooed over Alex, called him all manner of dear and hero, while he peered around at a flat that was sparse but welcoming, with just enough furniture for company, and, just as Jane promised, the river winding by the window.
The moon came outcasting pale gold across the snow, over the river, lighting the hills and the ice holes where local men fished from rickety stools.
Another dumpling? Jane offered, as Alex gazed out. Theyre homemade!
Ill burst if I eat another bite.
Right, coffee then. She poured him a mugproperly brewed, not syrupy, vending machine slop. She relished fussing over him, rooting through for cakes, then jamming him full of pastries, jam, biscuits, anything she could find.
Well give this young man diabetes! tutted Mrs. Parsons.
Mum. He saved us, fed half the blockbrought spoons for Mrs. Green and screws for Mr. Clark. Let me spoil him.
Alex, thoroughly befuddled by the hospitality, eventually staggered to his feet. Time I let you ladies get some sleep. Thank you.
You cant go yet! I must pay you! Jane started.
Not a chance. Alex shook his head. So what about the car? Isnt it a bit rough out here without one?
Its my car, Mrs. Parsons called from the other room. Peter borrowed it. Not for much longer. Reported it stolen, actually.
Mum? You did not! Jane nearly collapsed onto the nearest kitchen stool. Every English kitchen has a stool for exactly this kind of news.
I did. Even I can learn new tricks. Oh, and JaneI finished a chapter tonight, did you hear?
But Jane wasnt listening; she was in the hallway, busy kissing Alex. And Alex, for the record, was very much kissing her back. Unlike with Alice, Jane had no trouble breathing next to him. Neither of them seemed to need to come up for air.
Mrs. Parsons peeked out and smiled at the scene. Now that is romanticshould write that one down.
Alex made it home in the early hours, creeping up the stairs, easing open the front door. The place was dark. Alice, as a rule, left a light on for him, but not tonight. Shes a good one, Alice, Alex thought, sighing. But maybe we just werent made for each other. Is it awful to fall for Jane so soon? Bit shoddy, isnt it Oh well. Hope Alice finds her happy ending. Alex switched on the kitchen lightthere, a note from Alice: Dont call, dont text. Which, to be fair, suited Alex just fine. It even felt a bit awkward, being this happy.
He rang Janemumbled, stammered, felt like a schoolboy. She purred reassuringly, asked if he got home safe. It was nice. Really nice.
