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BUZZ
by D J Peat
He stopped at the Car-phone Warehouse and looked at gadgets that were too small for babies’ hands. Maybe he wouldn’t get the sort of homecoming he wanted. Two weeks in Ibiza with the lads had been great but Jack wanted to wrap his arms around Claire. She was the best looking girl in 6th form and his girlfriend for over a year.
The Metro Centre looked shabby. The red brick of the eighties had been battered into a dreary brown and the tag of the largest shopping complex in Europe was forgotten. When Jack got inside he could’ve been in any shopping centre. All the usual high street stores had moved in and the original hope of a shopping adventure of a lifetime had turned into monotonous familiarity. The Metro Centre was Claire’s workplace.
When he stepped on the escalator and saw Marks & Spencer’s in ten foot green letters, a rush of adrenaline filled blood spun round his body. He sat on a wooden bench and his knees clattered. The waves of excitement kept hitting him. Her perfume was unwrapped inside a yellow duty-free bag and he realised that he’d missed her more than he’d thought.
He examined the area outside the store, and laughed at the old couple complaining about the draft. Hundreds of shoppers milled around in their T-shirts and shorts. Twocers blended into the crowd beneath their baseball caps, whilst young couples bit into their McDonalds and bought lottery tickets.
Jack found himself being watched by a group of schoolgirls, smoking in Dixon’s doorway. They looked identical: tracksuit tops, ‘bling’ jewellery and hard-faced expressions. Their dark roots made them look like they’d been dipped in bleach. They’d been eyeing Jack and had decided that he was seventeen. They could see that he had cropped dark hair, blue eyes, and a spanking new tan on his swimmer's body. They'd discussed his taste in music and fantasised about him knowing a trick or two in the bedroom.
They were people watching. At first, Jack felt self-conscious about chewing his nails. Then he switched his paranoia to confidence and spliced them a grin. Jack knew how stories developed; he’d spent many afternoons' people watching with his friends. He remembered being chased out of the Metro Centre after he’d made up a story about a man with a beard looking like the Yorkshire Ripper. The man heard and tried to hit him with an umbrella.
When he saw Claire, talking to another uniformed girl, he wanted to run over and sweep her up in his arms. He’d seen it in the movies when the hero gets the girl, but it was a Thursday afternoon in Gateshead, not Hollywood on a moonlit night. He sat, oblivious to her, watching her tuck her blond hair behind her ears. He liked the way her size eight uniform clung to her tiny body. Some of Jack's friends hated shop-girl uniforms - but not him. He didn’t have a fetish for them but loved the way Claire’s legs looked in dark tights with a smart skirt.
One
of the girls from Dixon’s entrance approached him.
"Got a tab?”
The last thing he needed was to be stalked by a thirteen-year-old.
"No. Am waiting for me girlfriend.”
"Girlfriend? You were smiling at me,” the girl said - hurt: folding her arms. Her fringe was so lacquered it looked like it was about to snap.
"Eh. What yer on about? She’s over there. Leave uz alone.”
He’d pointed when he’d spoke and Claire noticed him. He’d expected her to be as excited as he was, but instead her eyes chilled like chipped ice. Her expression remained fixed as she walked towards him. He wondered what was wrong.
"Your boyfriends a bastard,” said the young girl, as she brushed Claire aside.
"I know,” said Claire.
"Bloody hell.”
The romantic rendezvous he’d imagined had disappeared.
Jack wanted to kiss Claire; but instead, because of the icy reception, he half-heartedly hugged her. She responded by turning away from his advance. He eased off and stepped aside with the smell of perfume filling his nostrils.
“What’s the matter?”
"Who’s she?” Claire asked.
"Dunno… some young lass scrounging a tab. How are you, I’ve...”
"You’ve got a nerve.” The chill that affected her eyes had reached her vocal chords.
"Come on Claire…”
"What happened to your calls and texts? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”
"Me phone got lost in the sea. Sorry.”
She twisted her face. Even though he didn’t feel like it, he playfully shook the carrier bag. He thought he could soften her mood.
"I’ve got you a present.”
"You think that’ll make everything all right – don’t you?”
"I hoped so,” he said, hiding the bag behind his back.
"It’ll take more than that. I spent a fortune on that phone.”
She wagged her finger at him and the identical girls laughed.
"How could you lose it?”
"I never meant too.”
"God it’s so embarrassing. I wonder where it is.”
"Am sorry.”
They’d used Claire’s voice as a ring-tone - saying ‘buzz, buzz, buzz.’ They’d christened the phone ‘Buzz’. He held her shoulders, but despite his physical size dwarfing her she still had control.
"I’ll sort it. Buy another one.”
"That doesn’t explain why you haven’t been in touch.”
He rubbed his brow.
"All me numbers were in the phone. You know I can’t remember numbers.”
"Even mine!” she yelled and stormed off. “Give me my present some other time.”
He followed her, all the way to her car with the flock of schoolgirls in tow. He wanted to tell her that he’d thought about her every minute he’d been away, but the girls drove him to distraction.
As Claire placed the key into her car door she turned,
"You don’t know how it’s been for me – do you? I’ve been worried. I’ve sent messages everyday. I thought you’d been mugged or you’d had enough of me.”
Jack shrugged and held out his palms as she talked.
"You could've been with a different girl every night.”
"I haven’t. Honest.”
His shrug had become so exaggerated; he looked like Woody Allen.
"A month ago I would’ve believed you. I don’t know now. I cried every day - I thought you didn’t want me anymore. Now its smiles and presents.”
She got into her car and he absently kicked the tyres. He couldn’t think of anything else to do. Claire let down the electric window and lent over.
"Look Jack, I don’t know what to think.”
All he could do was keep shrugging and it didn’t help.
"Come over tomorrow. We’ll talk about it,” she said.
"I’ve…err, I’ve arranged to go out with the lads tomorrow,” he said, waiting for the storm.
"To prime them about your affairs – that I’m a fool – that you’re back in with me?”
Jack could almost see the tint of blue frost propel from her mouth.
"I haven’t been with any lasses - yer not a fool.”
He breathed in the fumes as she put her foot down.
"I’ve
missed you,” he said, to the multi-story car park. He scratched
his head and wondered if this had ever happened to Justin Timberlake.
The schoolgirls clapped and cackled at his performance before disappearing
towards Metroland.
He stood alone - ridiculed by the female population.
