Matt smiled and said, ‘Are you okay?’
She pulled a slightly awkward face that made him feel like he’d tried to hit on her, unsuccessfully too.
‘Please leave me alone.’ Rebuffed. He never understood how or why, only that it happened. He thought of saying something, just to save face, but he couldn’t see the point. He smiled as graciously as he could and turned to walk away. And then he heard her voice again, stronger. ‘God, I’m sorry, that was really rude of me.’
He turned again and said, ‘That’s okay. I can understand you wanna be alone. I kind of wanna be alone myself.’
She smiled, her eyes red from where she’d rubbed them.
‘So why did you come over?’
‘Because you looked sad. You were crying.’
She nodded a little, as if she’d hoped nobody had noticed, and said, ‘I don’t really want to be alone.’
‘Me either.’ She gestured toward the seat her friend had been sitting in and he said, ‘Can I get you another cup of coffee or something?’
‘No, thanks.’ He sat down, wondering how to proceed from there, conscious of the need to tread carefully. Before he could say anything though, she said, ‘My friend was killed last week. You know that hit and run?’
‘Yes I do. Emily Barratt.’ She looked askance at him and by way of explanation he added, ‘I didn’t know her but I’ve heard a couple of people talking about her; she was in my college.’
‘So we’re in the same college too. You’re not a JYA though?’
‘No, fully paid-up member. I’m in my final year.’ She nodded like it was something she’d been puzzling over for some time, showing an exaggerated interest. He found small-talk painful anyway so he cut to the chase and said, ‘What was she like? Your friend? If you don’t mind me asking. It’s just, you hear so many people talking about her like she’s just a statistic, it’d be nice to hear who she was.’
‘Actually, what I hate is all the people who hardly knew her, who beat their breasts and say how sad they are and how close they were. It makes me sick. It’s like they get a kick out of it.’
‘That’s true, people do that, like they wanna be a part of it.’ He thought of Steve Herman, who’d died of some rare form of cancer in high school, the way the whole school had rallied around the memory of this kid hardly any of them had known, because he hadn’t been that popular and hadn’t been that nice. He didn’t think it wise to share the memory, adding instead, ‘You’d think people would wanna distance themselves from death, not associate themselves with it.’
She smiled, intrigued, and said, ‘What’s your name?’
‘Matt MacAndrew.’
‘Susie Hansen.’ She reached out and shook his hand, laughing at how formal it seemed. Her hand was about the half the size of his, a fragile feel to it.
‘So what was she like?’
‘Of course, sorry.’ She sighed and said, ‘It sounds so trite but she was a really beautiful person, very kind, considerate. She’d be really quiet and then you’d get her talking about a book she liked, or a film or a place, anything, and she’d become really passionate, like nothing else mattered in the whole world.’
Matt nodded, though he couldn’t get any real sense of her from Susie’s description.
‘Did she have a boyfriend?’
He guessed the question was pretty inconsiderate but Susie didn’t appear to notice and said, ‘She had a boyfriend from home but they split up at Christmas. I didn’t like him much. She hadn’t seen anyone since.’ That thought appeared to trouble her. Her face froze, her eyes welling up again.
‘What is it?’
She shook her head, unable to speak at first. Then she said, ‘I just keep wondering what she was doing out there. We were at a party, in Broom Street.’ His stomach coiled tightly at the mention of the street, the same party they’d been to.
‘Maybe she was lost, just trying to head back into town.’ Though now that he thought of it she was heading back in the other direction, he was certain of that, and now he was puzzled too and frustrated at not being able to share it.
‘The thing is, she told me she was leaving and I just said “fine” and let her go. And we’ve never done that, but I didn’t think she was walking home alone, I thought she was leaving with people.’
‘You can’t blame yourself.’
‘I know, it’s a terrible cliché but I can’t help it.’
‘But like you said, you thought she was okay. And even if you’d been with her, it doesn’t mean she wouldn’t have been knocked down. It was a party.’
‘I know, you’re right. I still can’t help thinking it.’ She looked toward the door, distracted for a second before she turned back and said, ‘Matt - it was Matt, wasn’t it?’ He nodded, smiling. She looked like she was about to ask him some great favour but said simply, ‘Do you want to go for a walk?’
‘Sure. I’ll just go and get my coat from the library.’