Bournemouth,
1977. We’ve heard about Martin, by being “flies on the
wall” during private conversations, but this is our first encounter
of him.
Sue tried not to look straight at the young man seated on the wooden
chair beside her. Otherwise, he might start to read her thoughts, and
that would be unfortunate. Because what she was thinking was: I’m
talking to a complete and utter weirdo who doesn’t know how to
behave in the simplest of situations, let alone on a business trip to
a foreign land – a land where, she’d heard, protocol was given
considerable attention. What she was supposed to be thinking was:
this is an ordinary conversation with an ordinary employee who works
in the same office as me, and who happens to be going on a work trip
to Japan to demonstrate our product.
He
was dressed in a suit and tie, like all the other men in the office,
but the tie met the lapel of his jacket rather than going straight
down to the join between the two parts, and the suit didn’t look
right on him. Perhaps it was too tight for him. Or perhaps it was
simply his posture on the chair – too rigid, too straight-backed,
two feet on the floor. He stared down at the lino with those intense
blue eyes, as if in horror at spotting a speck of dust. Of course, as
soon as he opened his mouth to speak, the weirdness would become even
more apparent. Come to think of it, why hadn’t he said anything
yet? Sue had asked him a question. Hadn’t he heard?
“I
said, do you have a passport?” Out of Martin’s view, Sue clenched
her fists. She’d enunciated each word separately, as if she were
talking to a young child, or to a retarded person. She must remember
to talk normally.
“I…
sorry… I have one but it’s not…”
“Is
it out of date?”
“Yes,
I think so.” Martin’s half-smile showed his relief at being
helped out of a spot.
“When
did you last use it?”
“When
I was thirteen.”
“Then
it must be out of date. So we have to get you an emergency passport.
I’ll find out how, and I’ll get the form from the post office.
Bring in your old passport tomorrow and get some passport photos
taken, and I’ll help you fill in the form.”
“Thank
you.”
“Do
you know how to do passport photos?”
“Yes.”
Typical.
Why didn’t he explain how he was going to do it? Sue wanted to ask
him, to make sure he knew what to do, but that wouldn’t go with
pretending he was normal. Oh well. If he came tomorrow without the
photos, she’d have to take him to the nearby photographer’s.
“I’ll
also get plane tickets in your name, and change the hotel
reservation. John will be in touch with the company in Japan to tell
them about the change.”
Martin
nodded. His eyes stared towards the general area of Sue but not
directly at her. Since his head was pointing downwards slightly, this
gave the impression that he was looking up at her, as a child would.
His hands clutched the sides of the chair, raising his shoulders an
inch or two. She was reminded of a smaller Sue facing the
headmistress after a forgotten misdemeanour.
“Okay,
you can go now.”
It
was like releasing a catapult. Martin shot across the room and was
gone in a second, despite needing three attempts to push down the
door handle.
Sue’s
eyes remained fixed on the closed door for a moment, at the spot
where Martin had stood while tackling the handle. Slowly, she shook
her head and sighed, and thought about popping into an employment
agency that afternoon when she went to get the passport application
form. There was one right next to the post office.
Miriam Drori has decided she’s in the fifth and best stage of her life, and she’s hoping it’ll last for ever. It’s the one in which she’s happiest and most settled and finally free to do what she wants. Miriam lives in a delightful house and garden in Jerusalem with her lovely husband and one of three children. She enjoys frequent trips around the world. She dances, hikes, reads and listens to music. And she’s realised that social anxiety is here to stay, so she might as well make friends with it. On top of that, she has moved away from computer programming and technical writing (although both of those provided interest in previous stages) and now spends her time editing and writing fiction. NEITHER HERE NOR THERE (currently unavailable), a romance with a difference set in Jerusalem, was published in 2014. THE WOMEN FRIENDS, co-written with Emma Rose Millar, is a series of novellas based on the famous painting by Gustav Klimt. SOCIAL ANXIETY REVEALED (non-fiction) provides a comprehensive description of social anxiety from many different viewpoints. CULTIVATING A FUJI takes the social anxiety theme into fiction, using humour to season a poignant story.
