The End of the Beginning
By sarsaparilla
- 635 reads
Tonight Brian and Tina hold hands on the bus home from work. Although they’ve travelled home together every night for eight years, it’s something they’ve never done before; it feels awkward but right. And, equally odd, tonight they sit in silence - cradling the news between them like a dead child. Understandably, their usual home-bound banter – who’s having what for tea, what’s on telly - has expired.
As Tina’s stop draws near she turns to Brian and he’s startled to see how old she looks. Normally, youth radiates from every pore of her tiny frame – forty-nine? You must be joking! But tonight, her cheekbones jut like mountain ranges while shadows etch valleys under her eyes. Only her voice keeps its girlish, slightly breathy pitch: “It’ll be all right Brian. Something’ll turn up.”
As the bus eases into the roadside and she stands up to leave, she momentarily dips down, bird-like, and kisses him quickly on the top of his balding head. But no “See ya!” tonight. It’s more than she can say.
Left alone, Brian stares out into the night but sees only his own reflection: the sad eyes of a large, parka-wearing grizzly. Not for the first time he wishes he’d been given a personality to match his hefty frame. It’s all very well being a gentle giant, he thinks grimly, but at times like this I’d do better as a raging bull.
Despite what Tina said, it wasn’t going to be all right. At fifty-five he knows he’s unlikely to get another job and he still hasn’t decided how he’s going to tell Linda. Redundant! How do you mention that when you walk through the door - especially as most nights she hardly notices when he comes in. Queen of the Soaps is Linda and there she’ll be, on the sofa, soaking them up and snacking like some great milch-cow. For her, life is full of fantasies. How’s he going to get her to tune in to a reality that’s not on TV?
The future looms as dark and impenetrable as the night outside. “God Almighty, what’ll I do?” he mutters.
***
Next morning at work everything seems disconcertingly normal - but then, why wouldn’t it? Only the two of them are being given the push so for the rest, life is as unvarying as the canteen custard. As ever, it’s busy, so for the first couple of hours they keep to their habitual routine, as comfortable as two work horses in harness, each trusting the other to bear their share of the load. It isn’t until coffee that they’ve time to talk.
“Did you watch Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” Tina asks, nonchalantly. “They only got up to fifty thousand, I could have done better.”
“You ought to apply; you could do with winning now, couldn’t you?”
She laughs dismissively. “What about you - you relying on scooping the lottery, or what?”
He flinches at the bitterness in her voice, and longs, just for a moment, to put a protective arm around her. Instead he asks gently, “How did Dan take it? Was everything okay?”
She concentrates on cutting up her teacake, avoiding eye contact. “Fine, no problem. And you; what did Linda say?”
“Not much. Obviously it was a bit of a shock but at least we’ve got a few weeks to sort things out.” As they speak, Brian feels the distance flood between them like a cold incoming tide. Is this how it’s to be from now on? Uncomfortable silences, embarrassed replies? How could it?
“Tina, you do know you can always rely on me, don’t you?” he mutters, afraid that the intimacy of his question might startle her. But dammit, he needs to ask; she is more than just a workmate. After eight years together nearly every day she knows almost everything about him - as he knows her - and unlike Linda she still seems to like him, despite it.
“Course, stupid,” Tina smiles, dismissively cheerful. “Same here. Now, back to the grind, or…” He knows she is about to say, as she always does, “…or they won’t want us any more,” but this time she falls silent. They don’t want them any more. Next month, they’re out.
***
Work proceeds uneventfully throughout their last weeks.
“We won’t tell the rest of the staff until your last day if that’s alright.” the bosses had said. “It’ll just unsettle everyone. Besides, it’ll be easier for the two of you, won’t it?”
At least they’d got that right, Tina thinks grimly on the morning of their penultimate day. Living with everyone’s sympathy would have been hell; the only trouble is that because no one knows, it’s been too easy to pretend it isn’t going to happen. Pretending …she feels ashamed and cowardly, especially as Brian has obviously found some way of sorting it out with Linda. She’s only met Linda a couple of times and what she’s seen she hasn’t liked. Characteristically loyal, Brian rarely says anything against her, but she’s gathered long ago that Linda equals difficult and demanding.
Well, Dan’s difficult too, she thinks, but she knows that temperamentally, at least, she’s far better equipped to cope with things than Brian who, whatever the situation, is far too accommodating for his own good. Over the years, in odd little ways, she’s stuck up for him, pushed him even, just as if he was her husband instead of Dan.
How’s he going to manage in a new place, she wonders. Worse still, what will happen if he doesn’t get another job? How will he cope?
***
A few hours later, Brian finds himself feeling equally protective.
“Like it?” Tina asks, proudly holding up a new dress she’s just bought in her dinner break. “It only cost twenty quid. Looks much more, doesn’t it?” He has to agree, though on her boyish figure even an old rag would look special.
“Should you be spending money now, with this coming up? he probes cautiously.
“Well, I have to. It’s Mum’s seventieth next Saturday and the girls would know something was wrong if I didn’t have a new dress…” She stops abruptly, aware of what she’s just let slip.
“You mean you haven’t told them?”
She stares at the floor like a guilty schoolgirl. “I’ve tried, believe me - but I just can’t!”
“Couldn’t Dan tell them for you?”
She shakes her head and quite uncharacteristically a large tear rolls down her cheek.
For Brian this is the final straw; in seconds he has his arms around her. “Oh love, how are we going to sort this out? And what am I going to do without you?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know anything any more.” Her face is pressed into his chest and her voice so muffled by tears that he has to strain to hear.
“I can live with losing the job,” she sobs. “But after tomorrow, I’ll probably never see you again and I don’t know what I’ll do without you, either!”
“But you’ve got Dan; you’ll forget me in no time…”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong. Dan and I haven’t been good for years. I’ve only stopped with him because I’ve been too afraid to go. He’d go ballistic if I said I was leaving, just like he will when I tell him I’d lost my job. That’s why I haven’t.”
“You mean he’s actually violent?”
“Yes, but he’s clever with it - never where anyone can see the damage.” Her voice trembles: “That’s why you’ve never known anything about it, even though I’ve lost count of the times I’ve come to work black and blue.”
“My God.” Brian mutters, stroking Tina’s hair. How could anyone even contemplate hitting her? He feels sick at the thought.
But, abruptly, Tina pulls away, brusque, ashamed. “I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have said all that. You’re a married man, it isn’t right.”
“No, it isn’t right.” Brian sighs. There’s a lot that isn’t right, and not long left to fix it.
***
By late afternoon he’s come to a decision, one so momentous that he finds it hard not to share it with Tina on the bus home. But by now she’s defiantly back to normal.
“Make sure you’re not late for your last day tomorrow,” she says playfully as she stands to leave.
He smiles, raises his hand in farewell; tomorrow seems a long way off. Before then he’s got to break the news to Linda - not just about his job, which almost seems an irrelevance, but that he’s found someone else. He’s going to tell her and then he’s going to take his things round to his Dad’s. After that he’ll need a good night’s sleep before potentially one of the most momentous days of his life.
Tomorrow will mark the end of an era. But also, hopefully, his savings now invested in two air tickets to the other side of the world, a new beginning, too.
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Comments
I feel sorry for the ones who
I feel sorry for the ones who will be left behind, but you've got me caring about the characters. I'm not really one for romance but I like how you show that work can be as much about people as money.
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