Accidents Will Happen

It’s the words that we don’t say…

The coach gave a lurch and the girl across the aisle spilled her drink. She jumped up, looked at her wet seat and said:

‘’Do you mind if I sit here?’’

‘’No,’’ I said.

And so she sat next to me for the rest of the journey.

I tried to think of something to say to her. At seventeen I was full of both recklessness and fear. But mainly fear.

She looked so composed, so confident, so much older. At least twenty.

Where are you going? Sounds easy to say, but it was proving impossible for me to say it. Was it a bit rude, a bit nosey? Where are you headed? A bit friendlier, but still not happening.

She had a long flowery skirt on. She sat with her legs apart and the thin material clung to her thighs and dipped down in the gap between them. It was incredibly erotic.

Hi, what’s your name? Nice and easy. Friendly. I still couldn’t say it.

I wondered where she’d been. Of course I could ask. Where have you been? But I didn’t. She might not have been anywhere. She might be going somewhere. Just because I had been to Manchester and was now going home didn’t mean she didn’t live in Manchester and was now going to London. Idiot.

Do you live in Manchester? That would be perfect. If she said ‘yes’ I could ask her what it was like, as I was thinking of going to University there. And if she said ‘No’ then I could ask her what she had been doing there. But she might hate students. Then she’d hate me automatically.

She had short cropped blonde hair, like Tina Weymouth out of Talking Heads. I didn’t know any girls with short hair. Annabelle Hewitt’s hair was shortish, but it was puffed out like a sheepdog’s. For God’s sake don’t tell Annabelle Hewitt that I think she looks like a sheepdog.

I like your hair. Complimentary, but not too personal. Or was it? And what sort of a conversation could that lead onto? What do I know about hairdressing? I know a hairdresser. Lynne Scanlon. Lynne’s gorgeous.

You look like Tina Weymouth. If she didn’t know who Tina Weymouth is then I could tell her about Talking Heads. Except girls don’t really like music, do they? Chris Hillman likes The Stranglers and Barbara Maloney likes The Doors. Dawn Colah says she likes The Fall but that’s only because her boyfriend, Steve Day, does. If she marries him she’ll become Dawn Day. She must know that.

Anyway she didn’t really look like Tina Weymouth. Just her haircut. You hair looks like Tina Weymouth’s. Oh, fucking hell. What a prick. Steve Day’s a prick. Even if he has good taste in music. And a girlfriend.

She got a book out. I looked out the window so she wouldn’t think I was trying to see what she was reading.

What was she reading? I stared hard out of the window. Bollocks. I looked. It was a play. She was an actress! I bet she’s studying drama at Manchester University. Mind you she could be studying English. No, she’s just reading, not making notes. Well, who makes notes on a coach?

What are you reading? That would do, wouldn’t it? For fuck’s sake, say something.

I told Bren about her the next day.

‘’I sat next to a beautiful girl on the coach back from Manchester, yesterday.’’

‘’Did you talk to her?’’ he asked.

‘’Oh yeah.’’

‘’What did you say to her?’’

‘’No.’’