Gloria Don't Speak

He looks at Gloria.

‘Have you ever slept outdoors?’ he says. ‘You got a lot to learn. It’s not easy getting sleep in the cold on hard ground. You gotta keep your feet dry. You’ve had it too soft. You need to stick with me Gloria, when the shit hits the fan.’

Jack stares ahead for a bit, imagining how it’s gonna be. Then he laughs and shrugs. He takes a sip from his can. He scoops up a handful of chips and chews hard.

The first time Gloria meets Jack, she’s walking home from college. It’s the first warm day in the year. The sun is shining. The weather is so nice Mrs Uddin lets them do maths outdoors, on the grass. Gloria’s class is special needs so they do lessons different from the other kids. For maths they sit round in a circle, counting up cardboard coins and learning how much to pay for things in shops.

Gloria is too hot walking home. Her coat feels big and bulky. She takes it off and holds it, but it keeps slipping down out of her hands and dragging on the ground. Her feet get caught on the sleeves and trip her up. She hates this coat. Hates carrying it. She wants to throw it in the bin, or drop it and leave it behind, but she can’t because Mum will be mad.

The air is all soft, stirring with the sounds of traffic and people talking and shouting. Down the end of the road where the crossing is, a man is sitting on a bench. He’s smoking. He’s watching the people walk by and all the cars going past in front of him, the sunlight shining off their windows. Across the way a group of kids from Gloria’s college cluster outside the chicken shop, shouting and laughing. Gloria don’t have money on her for the chicken shop but she ain’t hungry anyway. She just wants to stop outdoors where it’s nice and busy, and watch things happen and be a part of it.

Gloria sits down on the bench with the man. She sits the other end of the bench from him. He keeps on smoking, looking ahead. Then he turns and looks at her. He looks at her for a while. She don’t look back at him. She looks away, over the road at the sun shining on the bricks of the pub opposite, turning them a soft golden colour.

‘All these pubs are gonna close down soon,’ the man says. ‘It’s all changing round here.’

Gloria looks at him then. He’s still watching her.

‘You won’t know this place,’ he says. ‘Thirty years ago to today.’ He laughs a little bit and keeps on smoking. ‘Some bloke just come asking me for money,’ he says. He shakes his head. ‘Can you believe it? I ain’t got no money and they come here asking me for money.’

Gloria knows what he is talking about. This happens to her a lot too.

‘Sometimes this place does me head in,’ the man says. ‘You get me?’

Gloria looks away again, back at the traffic and the group of kids from her college eating their fried chicken over the other side of the road. They are all laughing at something, their mouths open and happy.

‘You don’t talk much,’ the man says. But he don’t say it like a lot of people do, like they are telling her off and saying she should talk. He’s just saying.

‘Jack,’ he says. He puts his hand out for Gloria to shake. His eyes are a sharp blue and the sunlight shines in them, the way it shines in everything on the street.

Gloria shakes his hand. His skin is warm and dry.

‘What’s your name?’ he says.

‘Gloria,’ she says.

‘Gloria. That’s a nice name,’ he says.

She don’t say nothing after that and neither does he. They both sit there for a bit longer at either end of the bench, watching the day soft and warm around them. Then Gloria remembers that Mum will be getting home from work soon, and if Gloria ain’t in from college by the time Mum gets back, then Mum will be worried and she’ll cuss her. So Gloria gets up and leaves Jack sitting on the bench. He puts his hand up when she leaves, like the beginning of a wave, but he don’t move it from side to side. He just holds his hand up and nods. She walks away from him and crosses the road.

After that Gloria sees him there on the bench a lot. He always says hello to her and nods at her. If the weather’s nice she sits down for a little while and he talks to her. He talks about different things. He don’t mind if she talks back or not.

One day he says, ‘I’m going for a walk, just over the park. Fancy coming?’

Gloria nods. She gets up and goes with him. They walk around the park together, watching the little kids on the swings and the climbing frames, and all the kids from Gloria’s college over by the metal benches, eating chips and shouting at each other and blazing weed.

‘Cor they’re a noisy lot ain’t they,’ Jack says, ‘I ain’t surprised you don’t bother with them. Can’t see you pissing about like that.’

He smiles at Gloria and blows out smoke from his cigarette. And she thinks it’s better being with him and walking around than being over there with them kids talking and laughing. Jack talks about lots of things Gloria’s never heard of, or if she has heard of them she ain’t really interested, so she don’t pay enough attention to make it all stick together in her head. But it don’t matter. Jack just chats to her and he don’t care if she talks back or not, so she just needs to like listening. And she does like it. Listening and walking, his voice playing rhythms in her ear. He buys her drinks from the shop. He smokes cigarettes. Gloria never smokes because it’s bad for you, but still the smell of his smoke mixed with the sunny smell of the day gets her just right. The mud and the grass and the tarmac and the traffic fumes.

Jack talks about the end of the world a lot. He keeps counting, watching the calendar, telling Gloria how long it is until the Millennium, when everything will fall apart and he can run away and find his place. He talks and talks about how it’s gonna be. He is waiting the summer out, waiting the city out, counting down to zero. Gloria listens.

‘When something’s ready to break it breaks,’ he says. ‘You can’t always wait till the right time. You can’t always wait for everything else to break with you. Sometimes you reach too much. You’re ready to snap. Sometimes everything else ain’t at breaking point but you are.’

He looks at her.

‘You know what I mean Gloria?’ he says. ‘Year zero.’

‘Yeah,’ Gloria says, and he smiles.

‘You ain’t got a clue. Not a fucking clue. I’m going for a fag.’

He rolls a fag and goes over to the window to smoke it, and Gloria is sitting there, waiting for him to break. He blows smoke out into the street. His street is all houses, no shops. Across the way from his place is a little patch of grass, not a park, just an open place. The grass is all brown and dry now in the sun. Over the other side of it you can see more houses, and Canary Wharf behind them, silver-grey against the sky. Jack says he don’t want the flat to smell of smoke but it still does. He has one small room with a folding canvas chair and an old armchair and a folding table that falls down sometimes. There are letters and leaflets on the table. There is a small TV. There is a sink and a microwave. The bed is in the corner. The duvet is always hanging off it, drooping like he’s just thrown it back and got up a little while ago.

Gloria is not at breaking point. She likes summer. She likes being outside in the sunshine. Sometimes she gets worried when she thinks about college being finished for good now, and what will happen next? But mostly it’s okay. She don’t understand. He’s right.

‘You don’t see it, Gloria,’ Jack says. ‘You don’t see the things going wrong, the way things are. But I do.’

*

Mum says, ‘You need to get used to amusing yourself, Gloria. You’re an adult now, no one’s gonna entertain you. I’ve gotta go work. I’ve gotta be able to trust you.’

So Gloria makes sure that when Mum gets in from work she is at home, sitting on the sofa watching TV. That’s the agreement. Not the TV part, just that Gloria has to be home before Mum gets in from work. She don’t have to watch TV, she just chooses to do that.

‘I’m trusting you, Gloria,’ Mum says. ‘You’re a grown-up now. I can’t keep you locked away forever. So just make sure you’re indoors time I get home from work. Don’t go giving me a moment’s worry. Promise me.’

When Mum comes home she calls out ‘Gloria?’ and sticks her head round the door and sees Gloria sitting on the sofa. She sighs a little bit, and smiles like she’s completed a difficult job. Then she goes through into the kitchen.

‘Want tea?’ she says. When Gloria don’t answer she accepts it as a no. She comes back with her mug after a bit and sits down next to Gloria on the sofa. She ducks forward and sniffs at Gloria’s hair.

‘You smell of fags,’ she says. She takes Gloria’s chin and turns Gloria’s face towards her.

Gloria looks away.

‘Who you been hanging around with, Gloria? Who’s been smoking around you?’

‘In the park,’ Gloria says.

‘People smoking in the park was they?’

Gloria don’t speak.

Mum is still holding Gloria’s chin. She is looking at Gloria and frowning. Gloria pulls away and sits back, staring at the TV.

‘You met anyone?’ Mum says. ‘Any new friends?’

Gloria shakes her head.

‘Sure? You ain’t been hanging around with someone who smokes? No one you want to tell me about?’

But Gloria can tell she is not expecting an answer.

2

When she’s had enough of walking by herself and the sun is making her head sweat or the boys are getting too rude, Gloria goes round Jack’s. Sometimes he’s got work. And those days she gets a heavy feeling inside her, because she has to go back to walking around the parks and the streets on her own and trying not to attract too much attention. She knows where Jasvinder lives but she don’t know if she’s allowed to just go round there and ring on the doorbell. And Jasvinder’s mum don’t let Jasvinder out, so the two of them would have to sit inside anyway. Gloria don’t really want to sit indoors, but if she’s going to then she’ll do it at Jack’s, not all by herself at home. And not at Jasvinder’s, with Jasvinder’s mum watching them and keep trying to talk to her. But when she goes to see Jack she always feels a little bit frightened too, like she don’t know what’s going to happen next.

When she gets to his, Jack buzzes her in through the front door, and Gloria climbs the stairs and knocks on Jack’s door, and Jack opens it and says, ‘Alright Gloria, let’s go out yeah. I can’t take being shut up indoors no more.’

Gloria’s pleased. She likes it when they go out. Jack don’t normally like to go outside. He likes it he says, but not the people. Gloria don’t like some of the people, some of them are alright, and she is one too, but she don’t argue with him. There’s no point, and she wants him to keep letting her come in his place.

Jack sticks a cigarette in his mouth and zips his jacket up even though it’s too hot for a jacket. They go onto the Greenway and walk and walk. The footpath snakes along the backs of houses and past railway lines. There are no cars along here, only people, on bikes and on foot, jogging or walking dogs. Blackberries grow in the hedgerow. The blunt smell of sewage spews up through the concrete vents in the ground.

Jack don’t say much. He unzips his jacket but he keeps it on. He is frowning all the time because of the sun in his eyes. Gloria watches the sunlight bright on the bushes, softening the backs of houses, and flashing and gleaming on the trains going past. There are people on the grass with bin bags, using sticks to pick up all the litter. Jack raises his hand to them and does a thumbs up. ‘Nice to see someone doing something fucking decent for a change,’ he shouts. He’s walking too fast for Gloria. He keeps shaking his head over and over, quick and angry. She can’t keep up. She falls behind. After a bit he slows down and walks beside her.

They walk all the way down to Jenkins Tip. Gloria can’t do that on her own cos Mum says it’s not safe. Ignore me if you want Gloria, you wanna see yourself get raped and mugged girl, don’t come crying to me. But Gloria is with Jack now. It don’t matter that some people might want to rape and mug her, it don’t matter that all the kids in her college blaze without her, it don’t matter that she sits in the park by herself and all the boys tell her to fuck off from their bench. When Jack’s there no one will hurt her then.

‘Had a rough day yesterday,’ he says, beside her. ‘This cunt’s telling me what to do, do this do that, bossing me around like he’s better than me. I accept he’s the boss yeah, but he don’t need to talk to me like that. Fucking talking down to me. There’s no need for it. What’s wrong with treating people with a bit of respect?’

Jack looks at Gloria. She looks back at him. He takes a drag on his cigarette. He’s walking with his shoulders rolling, the energy and anger bouncing through them.

‘I should of punched the geezer,’ he says. ‘Knocked him out sparko. I’m too nice. I should of showed him. I done it before, my last job. Some cunt started on me so I dropped him. Boom, one punch. Put him on his arse. That’s the way you gotta do it. Show people you can’t be messed with. Otherwise every cunt messes with you. I tell ya, if this fella starts on me again I’m gonna fucking… I ain’t gonna take it.’ He shakes his head, a lot of times. ‘Fucking people do my fucking head in,’ he says.

Back at his place, he puts the telly on. It’s kids’ TV. The Art Attack man is building a big picture out of black bin liners and plastic bottles. Jack sits and watches for a bit, leaning back in his chair, his head to one side. ‘How you think he does that?’ he says. ‘He got it drawn out in chalk like or what?’

Korwhat. Likorwhat.

Gloria watches the man lay bottles out one after the other, fast, like he don’t have to stop and think about it. Like he knows it’s going to turn out good.

Jack watches, tapping his foot, biting his nail. His leg is twitching. ‘It’s a con,’ he says. ‘Massive fucking con, like he ain’t just doing that. It’s all set up for show.’ He looks at Gloria quick then looks away. He shakes his head.

‘It’s a fucking joke,’ he says. ‘Anyone can do that if it’s all drawn out for them, know what I mean?’

Gloria don’t speak. She can tell Jack’s angry. She presses her tongue onto her teeth, making her tongue hurt.

‘You don’t get what I’m on about at all, do you?’ he says.

He’s looking at her properly now. She goes still. Jack’s eyes are so blue, it’s a strange colour in a human face. Some people’s eyes are blue like stone or blue like water. But Jack’s eyes are blue like plastic. They look like they are made of tinted plastic stuck on over the white.

‘Let me tell you what it means,’ Jack says. ‘You finished school now ain’t you? Ain’t you?’

Suddenly he is expecting an answer from her. He looks at her, waiting. Gloria nods.

‘Know what comes next?’ he says. ‘What’s happening to you next? Has anyone told you?’

She waits.

‘Has anyone told you?’ he says again.

Then he droops a bit.

‘You’ll have something,’ he says. ‘Someone like you, you’ll have something. Your mum’ll fight for you. There’ll be funding or some special school or college. Social workers. You’ll be alright. You don’t need to know, do you. Me’ – he leans forward – ‘I got no one. Nothing. No one tells me what comes next. I have to make it up meself. Out of nothing. This is it, this fucking place. All I got.’

He’s staring at her.

‘Do you get it? Sometimes I get scared, Gloria. So what happens when I get scared? What do I do? I just have to pick meself up don’t I? Who gives a shit how I’m feeling? You never say a fucking word.’

Don’t get wha’m onabout don’t get wha’m onabout.

Gloria puts his words through her head in a cycle, trying to make something soothing from them, something with a rhythm. She don’t like it when he talks on and on like this.

‘You’re just a pretty face and big tits,’ Jack says. ‘Not that I’m complaining. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.’

He smiles at her. ‘Smile Gloria,’ he says. ‘I’m giving you a compliment darling. I’m saying you look nice.’

He stands up. He breaks across the space between them. He reaches out and touches her, puts a hand on her cheek then down onto her shoulder. His finger strokes her neck. Tickles. She bends her head over, curves her neck away.

‘You don’t even know what you got,’ he says.

Wrongwi that wrongwi that wrongwi that.

Gloria’s heart pounds. Her throat is drying closed. She wants him to touch her the whole time he never touched her. She looks at his hands and thinks how warm his fingers would be on her. But now it don’t feel warm or special. It just feels normal and boring. Like anyone poking against her neck with ordinary fingers and skin. Touching her too much. And he’s too close. Looking at her too much. ‘Stop,’ she says.

‘What you mean stop?’ he says. ‘I’m only touching your neck. You’re in my house and you wanna tell me I can’t reach out and touch you, like mates? We’re mates ain’t we?’

He keeps his hand on her neck. He wraps his fingers round the back, his thumb round the front. He strokes his thumb up and down over her throat.

‘I can touch you,’ Jack says. ‘I can do what I like.’

Gloria swallows. She feels her neck pushing out against his thumb. He keeps stroking his thumb up and down.

‘All them months we been talking, all them months you been coming to my flat, and I never done nothing. Been buying you food and I never done nothing. And you wanna act like you can’t trust me?’

He presses his thumb right into her skin. He squeezes his fingers tight so his hand is tight on her throat. He squeezes a bit more. Just for a moment. She can feel that if he presses harder she won’t be able to breathe.

‘Stay still,’ he says. ‘Show me you trust me.’

‘Jack,’ she says. His thumb pushes in and out against her throat as she speaks.

‘Shh. Stay still. Don’t cry. Just stay still. I’m gonna count to five. In my head. Stay still. Don’t move. I’m keeping my hand here. Feel how tight I’m keeping my hand? Just tight enough. I’m not gonna choke you. So just trust me. You have to just keep still and show me you can trust me while I count.’

Gloria’s neck is pounding against his hand.

‘Quiet,’ he says.

She don’t make a noise.

This is everything changed now, between them. She thought it was her and him being friends and they both like eating chips and he likes talking and she likes listening, trussmetrussmetrussme, and he has no one to talk to and she has no one to listen to, so they can fit with each other. And he looks nice. But now his face looks hard, all plastic, not just his eyes. Gloria can feel the tears starting in her eyes and nose. She’s too frightened to cry properly. She don’t know what he will do if she makes a noise. She don’t know what he will do now at all. So she lets the tears run onto her cheeks and she don’t move to wipe them away and she don’t cry. She remembers Mum saying, When you’re a grown up you’re gonna have to learn to cry without making a noise, it’s no good bawling like a baby all your life Gloria. This is the first time she’s ever done it. To cry without making a noise. Maybe she’s a grown-up.

3

When Mum gets home that evening she says, ‘Make me a cuppa tea will you Glor, I’m parched.’

Gloria is sitting frozen on the sofa. Outside the day is bright even though it’s late. The sunshine comes through the net curtain, making it glow white so Gloria can’t see the street through it.

‘Ain’t you gonna make me a cuppa tea?’ Mum says.

Gloria shakes her head. Even though he ain’t there, she can still feel Jack’s hand on her throat. It makes her stay really still like he told her to.

‘Bloody ungrateful,’ Mum says. She goes into the kitchen and puts the kettle on. Gloria can hear it bubbling. In the kitchen, Mum starts playing Tracy Chapman and singing along. ‘You get up on the wrong side of bed today or what?’ she calls.

Gloria hears the chink chink chink of spoon on mug, stirring. She don’t move. She keeps her neck tight and stiff, Jack’s hand still there.

Mum comes back in, holding her tea. The music keeps happening in the kitchen.

‘What you gonna do with yourself Gloria?’ Mum says.

She blows on her tea, looking at Gloria.

‘What you gonna do when summer’s over and you can’t walk around outside no more, eh? We’ll have to find something for you to do.’

Mum sits down on the armchair.

‘There’ll be something,’ she says. ‘There’ll be something.’ She closes her eyes and tilts her head back. She’s talking really quiet like she’s not even talking to Gloria at all.

Funding or some special school or college. Social workers. Gloria feels something pressing against her. Pushing her further against the sofa so she can’t get up and go nowhere. She stays still but really she wants to run. It feels like she’ll be stuck this way forever and she don’t know a way out until she dies. And when you die you just stop being there and the world keeps happening without you. She can see herself put in a coffin and put in a hole in the ground and Mum crying and then years later new people living in this house and sleeping in her room and they don’t even know she was ever here. It all just keeps happening and keeps happening. She could spend every day for the rest of her life staying still on this sofa afraid to move and it don’t matter. Don’t make no difference. There’s noise. She’s making noise like Mum always tells her not to. Stop yelling, you’re too old for all this. Even though Jack showed her earlier how to cry quietly. But she can’t do it twice in one day, it’s a lot.