Upperkirkgate Chapter Three: That Frame Outlasts A Thousand Tenants, Part 3

   “Well, why should I… It’s spent now, anyway. That was last year,” he said, sounding angry. “She had no business telling you… I don’t remember telling her, anyway.” Claire quietly picked up her books and jacket and retreated to the next table, trying to read. Jack stared at his own notes and the one book he currently had on loan, the words blurring in front of him. “How should I know…” he muttered. Abruptly he stuffed his materials back into his holdall. He smiled over at Claire. “I’ll be back,” he said. She made no acknowledgement, brushing back her hair and studying an analysis of Elizabeth Fry’s reforms.

     Jack disappeared up the stairs of the QML, reddening with anger. He went straight to the third floor, and searched through the shelves until he found the familiar dark head, bent over Dickens. He was shaking with indignation. “How dare you!” he hissed, not wanting to sound so loud. Alison did not seem too surprised to see him.

     “Ah, Jack. It is nice to see you. How’s Claire?” He could not bring himself to speak. “How kind of you to come all the way up here and hiss at me like a Christmas goose. You’re at least a week too early, but perhaps you’d be good enough to go and get stuffed anyway.” She smiled, and began writing again.

     Jack sat down, in a conscious echo of her recent visit to his table. “Can’t you let me go?” he said quietly. “Can’t you find someone else? Why can’t you let us alone? You were my friend for a long time, Ali, if I really meant anything to you, please let Claire and me alone, let us be happy. That was only one driving offence, it won’t happen again, it was hardly a ban.”

     She raised one eyebrow. “I’m not sure if the people in question would agree.”

     “You’re hardly the judge, are you…”

     “It was a sheriff, actually.”

     Jack cleared his throat. “Do you feel… inadequate?” he said mildly. “I know some guys who wouldn’t mind going out with you.”

     “Oh, I’m well booked,” she said. “Believe it or not, you can take some getting over. Despite appearances.” She frowned into the middle distance. “Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once.”

     “Not all the perfumes of Arabia, eh?”

     “Jack, let’s be mature,” she said, looking at him severely. He laughed.

     “Oh please. I wasn’t born for your convenience, Ali. You’re a great girl, or you were. I hope you find someone else, okay?” He got up to go.

     “Jack. If you’d only realise-“

     “What?”

     “Walking out on me won’t solve anything. You can fill your life with Claire, or anyone else you choose, but you’ll never find your ideal.”

     “And I thought you were a free woman?”

     “I am. You are a free man, you’ve just got to realise it.”

     “I’ve had enough.” He headed off, feeling Alison’s dark eyes on him all the way to the stairs, even after he had left the third floor behind. He turned briefly to make sure she was not following him. He shook his head. Jack made his way back down to Heavy Demand. It was now near lunchtime. Claire was nowhere to be seen.

                                                           ***

Jack’s footsteps crunched on the frost as he walked up to the pub near the campus. He opened the door to a bright hubbub of noise, the light spilling outside onto the snow. He pushed his way in past the crowd of students, and waved to his cousin Jules sitting at a window seat.

     Jules was finishing his first pint. He had recently started a rock band, which was a slow success locally. “What can I get you?” His manner was as warm and generous as ever. Jack smiled as he joined him.

     “Just a Coke. I need a clear head tonight.” Jack slipped off his scarf and leather jacket, looking at the crowd, spotting some familiar faces. He leaned forward on the table, savouring the break from work, and especially from the two women who had featured so largely in his life the last three months. Jules was a third-year Psychology student, unsure about continuing to fourth year, in part because of his long-held desire to be a professional musician. He smiled as Jules returned, carrying Jack’s Coke. “Thanks. How’s the band?”

     “Oh, not bad,” said Jules. “We’re playing the Lemon Tree next month. You should come.”

     “I will,” said Jack, reaching inside his jacket. “Here’s some words… don’t know if you might need them.”

     “I might,” said Jules, casting an eye over them, as if sifting wheat from weeds. “I like this one. The idea’s not that original, but it might get the audience’s attention. Something about lead from gold as well… don’t want to get too heavy.”

     “It’s the alchemist’s dream,” said Jack earnestly. “Wanting what he can never have.”

     “Yeah, I am familiar with Jungian archetypes, and stories,” said Jules vaguely. Jack fell silent, drinking his Coke as slowly as possible. Jules perused the manuscript with the air of a tutor, pausing to sip his third pint.

     “I always found the idea of Bruce Springsteen recording “Nebraska” in his own house encouraging,” said Jack, “the lack of professional facilities, a studio, other artists to help him, and just churning out that… glorious raw anthems of death and punishment and the ultimate value of life.” Jules smiled.

     “Oh yes… we use some of his material when we practice. It’s not easy getting started, but you never know who might be at a concert. Some have entertained angels unawares… It happened to The Commitments.”

     “And they fell apart,” said Jack. “Sorry.”

     “Three days to end of term,” said Jules. “How are things? Really?”

     “Oh, where do I start?” said Jack, looking briefly at the ceiling. “Well, a long-term friend of mine became my girlfriend in September, the very week we came back, maybe everything was too new then, she’s just that clever… I never knew the like of her. Then there’s Claire, in your year, she’s really happy and beautiful, you know…” Jules face acquired an opaque quality, which did not mean he was not listening.

     “The Christian Union crowd are over there,” he said, pointing, “but Claire’s not with them tonight.” Jack turned at once, tensing at her name, then relaxed. Jules was looking out the window. He drank a little more. “So,” he said eventually, “perhaps you find yourself at the apex of a particular isosceles, the angles of the ladies becoming somewhat awkward in relation to you?”

     Jack thought. “Yes, that’s about it,” he said, “though I was never very good at maths.”

     Solemnly, Jules arranged some beer mats. “This is you,” he said, pushing one towards Jack. “Now, to begin with, you have your long-term friend, whom we will call A (Jack flushed slightly) orbiting around you, or you around her, unconsciously as the case may be, and you understandably feel her pull. Now-“ Jack opened his mouth, closed it, and took another sip of his Coke. “Perhaps you weren’t meant to be in orbit, who knows,” continued Jules, “anyway, the most synchronised of planets can drift apart. Or one can feel the greater attraction towards another star, resulting in the likelihood of a collision course.”

     Jack smiled. “You’ll be good when you’re qualified.”

     “Maybe. Do these-“ Jules indicated the sheets covered in Jack’s handwriting, “constitute so much stardust?”

     “I think that’s about right. I was in a relationship, and thought I knew what I wanted. Then it was like I had trouble breathing, and saw her everywhere in a scary sense. Before her, I definitely wanted Claire, but the other girl got to me first… it’s hard to think, sometimes.”

     Jules reached into his own coat pocket. “Just some musical ideas,” he said, “while I remember… you were saying?”

     “Well, I thought I was getting on alright with Claire, but then Al- Ms A, turns up again, and tells Claire about a minor speeding offence I got last year!” Jack ground his teeth together. “Honestly, does Claire think I should be perfect? Maybe she thinks she is.”

     “Are you sure you want to go out with her?”

     “With whom?”

     “Claire. You sound angry with both of them. You’re projecting like an old movie, full of jerks and creaks.”

     “Am I one of the jerks?”

     “No, but you need to prioritise. Friendships need attention.” Jack got up and went up the stairs, to the toilet. On his way back, he paused at the head of the stairs, looking down on the crowd of students. The Christian Union crowd had left, to go and sing carols. Here and there he thought he saw a blonde head that might be Claire. He did not like to think of meeting Alison. He returned to the window seat with Jules.

     “Midwinter Day,” said Jules, ruminatively. “How’s your revision going?”

     “Slowly,” said Jack, taken by surprise.

     “Ah well… life’s hard enough with a relationship, but it gets a lot worse if you don’t keep up with your work, too.” He smiled in a way that would have been patronising in someone else, and finished his drink.

     “Let me get you another,” said Jack.

     “Alright, just another of these.” Jack was halfway to the bar before he realised he did not know what “these” were.

     “Er, another of the same for my friend over there, and another Coke please,” he said to the barman, calculating whether the remains of his change would be enough for a bus fare to his lodgings. The night was so cold, he might prefer to walk anyway.

     He carried the drinks over to his cousin. They sat in the corner, an oasis in the revelry. “I’m doing some work in cognitive disparity between sense fields and reality,” said Jules. “Also known as… band practice.” He raised his glass. The door opened, and Jack looked up. For a moment, he thought the girl entering might be Alison, and realised she was not. “She has some influence over you.”

     “Who- the girl I called A? I suppose so.”

     “I know so,” said Jules calmly. “I went out with Claire, once.” Silence. Jack’s ears became filled with the impersonal hubbub of others’ conversation, the meaning just out of reach.

     “How long ago?” he said eventually.

     “First year. She was lonely, a bit out of her element. No such problems now. She’s doing really well.”

     “Do you still see her at all?”

     “Not really. She acquired more friends, they varied in depth and durability. Sort of like my amplifiers.” Jules finished his drink. “Do you mind if I head outside?”

     “No. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Jules nodded and pulled his coat on, leaving the corner and making his way to the exit. Jack watched him go. On his way, he stopped and smiled, spoke briefly to two girls and pointed outside. They nodded and smiled back. Jack drank his Coke slowly, looking up at the frosted windows, thinking of the frosted ground outside. He sighed and got up, pulling on his scarf and coat.

     He left the pub, his eyes adjusting to the pools of light cast by the streetlamps. He looked and saw Jules with his back to him, looking up at the College. Its large crown was floodlit at night, probably more impressive than by day.

     “Hi,” said Jack. Jules turned around, smoking a cigarette. He smiled in an easygoing way.

     “Those lassies wanted directions,” he said. Jack nodded, hands in his jacket pockets. “The winter wonderland, eh,” said Jules, removing the cigarette briefly and exhaling. “Dirty habit, this. I can think of worse, though. A cunning plan of the government, ejecting the most able thinkers in the country from the warmth and comfort of a public house on a winter night.” He coughed, briefly.

     The moon shone in its last quarter. “You can just see the outline of the rest of it,” said Jack, pointing. “I could write a poem about it.”

     “Oh aye.” The wind blew at them, through them. Jack walked up and down a little more briskly. Some more students left the pub and said goodnight, smiling at Jules. He seemed to know everyone. Jules finished his cigarette and lit another. He began humming Springsteen’s song “Badlands” under his breath.

     “Did you get that “Tracks” CD set?” said Jack. “I mean, the stuff “the Boss” just throws away…” Jules nodded in silence, exhaling a long cloud of smoke. “Are you waiting for someone?” asked Jack, the cold starting to get to him.

     “No.”

     “Can we walk, then?”

     “Alright.” They ambled round the corner, and started the long walk along King Street. They eventually passed Marischal College, and turned onto Upperkirkgate. Jack stared down the street, variably lit by the lamps.

     “Down there,” he told his cousin, “is where we had a lot of talk… in that Pirrips bookshop. There’s something in the atmosphere there. The first girl cornered me there, and I enjoyed being with Claire more recently.”

     “Yeah, she’s a great girl.”

     “Why did you split up?” Jack asked, before he could stop himself. Jules stood, hands in pockets, cigarette glowing bright orange.

     He shrugged. “Time… she wanted help, and I was the one to give it. She moved on, and I let her.”

     “Do you regret that?”

     “Not now. You can’t get bogged down in life, or you won’t have much of a life.”

     “Is that a professional diagnosis?”

     “Sure is. Come on, or we’ll miss your bus.” They sauntered along Broad Street, onto Union Street. Some of the other students had moved onto nightclubs, their neon signs winking above the doors. The fast-food restaurants were the only other places still open. Jack was glad of company, even when they did not speak. He was glad to have a distraction from thinking of Claire and her flat on King Street.

     The number 1 bus eventually came grinding round the corner, its gears louder in the cold still night. “Right. Probably see you over Christmas with the family, then. If you’re going to go out with Claire, take care of her. See you.”

     “See you,” said Jack, having only just enough time to organise his exact change. The red bus stopped beside him, the doors swishing open. “Thanks, Jules.” He waved goodbye, and was swallowed up into the bus. He waved to Jules, and settled down on a window seat, watching the street roll by. The shortest day drew to a close. Just one more day of studying and avoidance until the end of term.