Lost in Manchester - 5. Monday Morning. September 2009. James

James was sitting at his desk in the solitary office at the far end of the third-floor corridor, idly flicking through the online news stories on Canada Today.

He could hear his boss Angie’s voice on her way down the hall. This must be the new guy getting the typical ten-minute induction. Because obviously the university had recruited a new guy. There was barely enough work to justify his own role, so to remedy the situation of course they would recruit someone new to help him out.

Angie’s voice was drifting through more clearly now.

“This is the kitchen area. There’s mugs and tea and coffee and everything. This is a fire exit. In there are Janet and Helen who do the accounts. That’s the toilets there and there are more at the same place on each floor, and…”

The door to James’ office opened.

“…this is where you’ll be working…”.

Angie appeared in the doorway, along with a guy who looked to be a couple of years out of University, the same as James.

“…this is James, this is your desk, here are some files to start looking at…”

Angie started passing file after file to the new guy. She checked her watch and her voice started to accelerate and increase in pitch, barely stopping for breath.

“…these are good ones to start with, this is an overview of student union work, these are safety notices, you should check out this project too, James can answer any questions you have…”

Her face was becoming a stove kettle rattling towards boiling point.

“…there’s a meeting at 11 in the great hall, make sure you’re both there, and I’ve really got to go now to meet the pro vice chancellor. Hope it all goes well!”

And with that she was gone, and out of their lives for the rest of the day.

 

 

The guy stood by his new desk, arms laden with folders that she had piled onto him, and looking shell-shocked at the rapid information absorption. James smiled at him, and watched their boss disappear out and down the corridor, waiting until she was definitely out of earshot.

“Angie’s management style is a little unusual” he said with a wry smile. “I’m James by the way”. He stood and shook the new guy’s hand, once he’d deposited the folders back onto his desk.

“Adam” the guy replied. “I feel a bit like she was the tornado and now I’m in Oz.”

James laughed. “Well you should get used to it Dorothy”.

He helped Adam to set his computer up, then left him to start making sense of the mountain of files he had been handed.

 

At quarter to 11, as instructed, they started to make their way across to Whitworth Hall, for the post-summer staff assembly. Last year James had attended the same thing, and the experience had felt like a sentence of solitary boredom.

“So what exactly happens at this meeting?” Adam asked.

James rolled his eyes. “Pretty much zip, dressed up in a two-hour pantomime”.

Adam smiled and nodded.

“It’s basically the Vice Chancellor giving us what he thinks is a motivational speech, then some professors talking a little bit about some apparently incredible new project testing how, like, newts respond to the Atkins diet or something similarly fascinating. Then some admin guys will turn up and introduce a load of random new rules and regulations”.

“Wow, can’t wait.”

“Man, prepare yourself for the full spectrum of geeks and monsters that the University pays salary to.”

Adam laughed.

“Seriously, it’s like sci-fi.”

The hall itself really was something. James had been in a few times, but it was still breath-taking. This hall alone was older than anything in his home town. It was as tall as a cathedral, with a broad vaulted ceiling and an organ covering most of the back wall. There were heavy wooden panels covering the lower half of all four walls and ten great chandeliers hanging from long chains which brought warmth to the dark room. It made him think of oil paintings he’d seen of lavish Victorian weddings, all grandeur and spectacle.

By the time they were 75 minutes into the session James was ready to kill himself. They must have gone through at least 40 new policies or forms that were to be introduced this year to make things ‘simpler and more efficient’. The battle with his eyelids to stay awake was like lectures he’d been to at University after being out until six in the morning. The elderly man currently on stage was telling everybody that keeping down costs would be critical this year given shrinking budgets.

“...paperclips are a great example. Last year the University spent five thousand pounds on paperclips. But if you take them off your incoming post and put them in a pot, you’ll never run out.”

Adam leaned in towards him.

“This is a joke isn’t it?”

James shook his head. “Just wait for the directive”.

“Although it may seem trivial, we also get through far more pens than we ought. Somehow our stationery just won’t remain stationary” he chirped, but his audience were stony faced. Noting the lack of reaction he shuffled his papers, and his face soured a little.

“Hence, over the next week please keep a look out for the new stationery conservation directive which will come into force immediately”.

James leaned over to Adam. “Suicide pact if we’re not out by one?”

 

The rest of the day passed quickly and at 5pm James suggested they head to a lively bar along the road to celebrate Adam surviving day one. Adam fetched the beers and James found a seat in a booth on the far side of the bar which gave a good view across the room. This was a regular post-university stop for students and younger members of staff, so had a mixed crowd and a good buzz.

“How long have you been in the UK then?” Adam asked.

James worked it out in his head. “Well, I came across here for my undergraduate in London which lasted three years, then came up here to do a Masters. Then after that, you know, I just stuck around at the University. So about five and a bit years in total I guess.”

“You don’t want to go back to Canada?” He had told Adam about home earlier in the day, following that standard conversation where he had to explain that no he wasn’t from America.

“Yeah man, of course. Some time.”

“So what keeps you here?”

He laughed. “What, are you trying to get rid of me already?”

“No, no, I’m just curious. I can’t imagine living so far away from home for so long.”

 

James thought about Carly, her teenage face vivid in his mind. A college girl with long black hair. Somebody he knew years ago. She was sitting across from him in a coffee shop in Toronto, telling him some story about her bike and laughing away about it. She was so sexy. The way her hair fell across her face, her slim physique, her great legs, and amazing breasts. The way she looked playing that guitar on stage, all sweaty and intense and absorbed by the sound.

He had lusted after her for three years, and at 17, he was finally dating her. He’d learned to play guitar to impress her, and now they played together in the band. It was the most awesome time in all his life. He could see them lying together on the bed, hanging out after college, the radio on, and his hands caressing every incredible curve of her clothed body, and hers carefully stroking his neck and his face, feeling his arms and chest and casually brushing across the front of his jeans, teasing. He had been so much in love, or lust or whatever. He would have done anything not to lose her.

He shook the thought away.

 

“I’m not sure man. It’s kind of a cool city. How about you anyway? How did you come to be here?”

Adam told him about moving across to Manchester after breaking up with his ex-boyfriend.

“So you’re gay?”

He felt slightly surprised. Not that it was a problem. He had known gay people growing up. It had always seemed a totally normal, if slightly uncommon, thing. There was nothing about Adam that had seemed particularly gay though.

Adam smiled. “Yep, 100% homosexual. How about you?”

This caught James off guard.

“No, no, I’m straight. Why, do I look gay?”

“No. Not especially.”

“Good”, he nodded, then paused a second. He didn’t really mean to say good. It didn’t matter to him either way. Was that offensive? Then he came back to the especially.

“Wait, what? What made you say it like that? You do think I look gay?”

Adam smiled. “I thought you might have been. But it’s a compliment”.

“It is?”

“Definitely. You dress well and you know, you’re…presentable”.

James laughed, feeling more relaxed. He’d been told a lot of times about his strong jawbone and sexy ginger blond hair.

“Yeah, stop hitting on me man”.

 

He went across and got them another drink and returned a few minutes later.

“What’s it like then, just upping sticks and moving to a completely new city?”

Adam heaved a deep out breath and then grinned. “Bizarre and eventful so far”.

Adam recounted the story of meeting Ali, then accidentally almost sleeping with her flatmate.

“You didn’t go through with it though?” James asked.

Adam shook his head. “It was kind of a mood killer. We all ended up collapsing on the sofa and drinking gin til about 3am. Then I passed out on their sofa under a blanket til the next morning.”

“You are one classy guy” James said smiling.

“Tell me about it. So have you got a girlfriend or anything?” Adam asked.

James rolled his eyes. “Dude, I’ve told you, I’m not gay...”

“Fuck off” Adam said grinning.

James laughed. “No though. I haven’t had a steady girlfriend since I’ve been in the UK. In fact, I haven’t made it past a second date with a girl since I’ve been out here.”

He watched Adam nearly spit out his mouthful of beer. Maybe he’d been a bit too honest? It felt good to be able to say that to someone though.

“In five years?”

“Yeah. I mean, since I’ve been in Manchester I’ve not even…” he paused, hoping this would be clear enough, but he could see in Adam’s face that it wasn’t.

“…I haven’t even slept with anyone”.

Adam nearly spit another mouthful out.

“Jesus. How come? Did something happen?”

James shook his head and suddenly felt very light headed. He shouldn’t have drunk that beer so quickly. His chest was tightening. He didn’t want to be in this conversation.

His mind wandered off. He could see her face vividly again as they walked along the college corridor hand-in-hand, past the row of cherry-red lockers. She was the hottest girl in school, and all the guys looked on jealously as they passed by. They turned the corner heading for the science labs, but she stopped suddenly and turned to him. Her face was horror stricken, everything disappeared into a blur and she let out a terrified ringing scream which coursed through his body.

“James? Are you ok?”

“What?”

“You went kind of quiet”

He tried again to shake the thoughts out of his head.

“Sorry man. My mind wanders sometimes. You want another beer?”

He saw Adam look down at their only half-drunk pints then back up.

“Sure” Adam said shrugging.

 

James managed to clear his head at the bar and returned to their table afresh. They spent the next hour chatting meanderingly, enjoying the atmosphere of what had now become an almost exclusively student crowd. The music was good, the drinks were cheap, and the décor of the bare railway arch space made it easy to be an unnoticed face in a big crowd.

James had spotted a girl with long black hair at the far end of the bar, and as the evening went on he kept trying to catch her eye. He was trying not to let Adam see this, but as the beers kicked in, he knew his quick glances across were becoming less and less covert.

 

At about 10.30pm Adam drank down the last of his beer and looked ready to head off. James still had about a third of his left, which he could easily have downed if he wanted. But that girl was definitely glancing back at him, and the remaining drink was a good excuse to stay on a few more minutes.

“I should be making a move” Adam said, planting the pint glass firmly back on the table. “You coming?”

James played out the charade, pausing to look at his beer.

“I might just stay five minutes and finish this off”.

“Sure” Adam said nodding, a small grin on his face.

“I could do with sending a couple of texts anyway”.

“Right, yeah”

“But you get off, it’s cool.”

“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow” Adam said putting on his jacket. “Good luck” he said, flashing a final grin at James, then turned and headed off.

 

After Adam left, James could devote his attention more fully to catching the eye of the beautiful girl at the far end of the bar. He had already locked eyes a couple of times, and so guessed that she must like the look of him too. He finished the beer, slipped in a breath mint, and headed across to her. As he walked over, her friends took a sudden interest in a wall poster further round the bar.

“Hey” he said, smiling broadly. “You look kind of familiar. You’re not an actress or something are you?”

“That’s a good opening line”, she said, caressing the words with a seductive Italian accent.

“Thankyou”

“But no. I’m an optician. Nancy” she said, holding out a hand to shake his.

She had a perfect delicate smile, beautiful olive skin and an intoxicating cloud of perfume about her.

“Ok, I’m trying to stop myself saying something cheesy like you sure caught my eye”.

She smiled coyly. “Well, you failed.”

James went across and fetched them both a drink, and when he returned found that her friends had disappeared. He didn’t feel all that drunk, but the next morning he wouldn’t remember what they had talked about for the next hour and a quarter. Only that after that time she had suggested going back to her flat for coffee. And in those red boots up to her knees, there was no way he was saying no.

As they headed off, Nancy slid her hand down onto his jeans. As she squeezed his bum he instinctively recoiled.

However he tried, he still couldn’t get the image of that smashed up guitar out of his mind. The one Carly had spent over a year through college saving for; which she had treasured more than anything else. Probably more than she treasured him even. And it was just lying there, crushed. It was all his fault. He did this.

He desperately tried to shake the thought away. This beautiful Italian optician could be something special. He had to forget about that stuff. He had to move on.