The Keeper

From Martha to Marty

A week later Martha sat on the train, pressed her nose to the window, and made a new year's resolution to change. Wild green gave way to grey; Martha was left behind in the countryside. Now Marty looked out over the city, excited about throwing herself at all that London had to offer.

Marty took the Tube around to second hand market stalls in Paddington and Camden, and the galleries and food vendors of the East End. She went alone to late night dance parties on campus and lost herself in music Martha had no taste for, only wanting to dance the pain away., She rugged up, packed her lunch, and found a bench in Regent's Park to sketch or read a book, when the city was too much for her. Which happened less and less.

The tennis, swimming, and Spanish conversation groups gained a new member, who introduced herself as Marty. In her head she had a mantra: "I'm Marty. Marty likes to party" to remind herself to stay in character. She figured out the rules no one had told her before – being popular was a confidence game. She wasn't alone anymore when she went to the student bars or joined the crush at the Marquee stage, pogo-ing to music that thudded through her chest, obliterating all else.

One of her new friends was Camille, whose Spanish was worse but who faked it better. "The key to conversation is talking, Marty. You should try it."

Martha let go, and Marty enjoyed making mistakes. Making mistakes was a way to progress and also to have fun, she realised. Camille talked her into going to France, even though they spoke less French than Spanish. They made several day trips to Calais. Each one started with clambering onto a minibus before dawn. It then became a mess of cafés, bitter coffee and croissants, being hassled by guys on the street, and buying more than they could carry at the hypermarket. Then it ended with drunken singsongs on the bus home, stopping every half hour for people like them to throw up.

Marty stretched a student budget beyond the bars by developing a taste for eating out at places that catered to others with constrained budgets. They came with a force of flavour: Thai, Indian, and Vietnamese were her new favourites.

Now, like the rest of the first-year students, Martha was rarely in her room except to sleep. When she had an overdue assignment that she needed to get done, she worked at the library and hush-chattered with the increasing number of students who knew Marty and wanted to be with her. The inner Martha couldn't help but marvel at the change.