The Keeper

Making Up For Lost Time

Martha ran out of the library, ran up to Long Castle, ran until daggers in her legs made her stop. She slumped on the verge, breathing hard. Insects buzzed around her and she smelled wildflowers and crushed grass. Barely a breeze blew at ground level, but clouds raced across the blue sky above her. Life went on, despite it all. She looked at her watch and jumped up to jog back down the hill and then to the café, minutes after her shift had started.

"Sorry I'm late," she said to the kitchen staff, who clattered around her. She attacked the stack of coffee cups and plates and worked furiously, silently, until all was quiet and clean and her boss came in to tell her she was locking up.

* * *

Martha waited for Amy to finish work, leaning against the shop wall like a half-quit smoker. At 5:05, Amy busted out, unpinning her name badge before she slung her bag over her shoulder. "Boy, that was a drag. How was your day?"

"Okay," said Martha, looking down as she scuffed her heels along the pavement.

"That bad, huh? Don't worry, we'll have an excellent night out tonight to make up for it." Amy waved her pay packet in front of Martha's nose.

Martha stopped walking, looked up and said, "Hell, yeah. I'm sick of it all. I need some serious fun."

"That's the spirit. Let's go out and paint the town the brightest red you can imagine."

The girls walked back to Amy's, made small talk with her parents, and then dashed up to her room to listen to records until dinner. Martha loved Mrs Chen's cooking. Her stir-fries were the best – fresh greens with chicken or pork, flash-fried in a wok, and served with spicy noodles. Good food to eat before a big night out.

Then they got ready. Martha had brought a plain black scoop neck T-shirt to pair with jeans, but let Amy transform her face with lipstick, liquid eyeliner, mascara and a sweep of shimmering eyeshadow.

"You are so pretty, Martha. You should show it off more. We're young, free and single, right?"

"Right. Yes. Amy, you're right. I've been stupid, stupid, stupid," said Martha, looking at the bottom of her glass.

Amy refilled it. "What do you mean?"

Martha thought briefly about telling Amy everything then, but it was too painful to start. She winced and said, "Nothing, really. I've just been so boring, haven't I?"

"No." Amy laughed. "Well, maybe you've been a little on the square side."

"A little? Like a rhomboid?"

"I have no idea what that is, but probably, yeah," said Amy as she filled Martha's glass again. They giggled and gossiped and finished the wine. Martha felt better than she had in months.

Martha switched to pints of cider at the pub and Amy groaned as she came back to the table with another round and two shots of Sambuca.

"Steady on, Martha. That's the third round you've bought and I haven't even finished my second white wine spritzer."

"It's okay. I saved masses over summer and I owe you for putting up with my miserable self for so long."

"It's not the money."

"Then what? You used to say I was the lightweight," said Martha, as she slammed down both shots in front of her friend.

"I was kidding around. And no more shots, okay?"

Martha drank her pint and then burped. "Okay."

"Martha!"

Half an hour later, Amy was holding Martha's hair back in the loo. Afterwards, Martha washed her face and Amy looked at her in the mirror. "You okay, mate?"

"Not really."

"What are you trying to do to yourself?"

"I want to make up for lost time."

"Well, don't do it all at once or you'll end up in hospital, all right?"

Martha nodded.

"Come on; you'll feel better after we've walked home."