Chapter 7: Coffee
October, 1987
Alex sat at the table, waiting for James, nervously fiddling with a pen. Katherine was sitting next to her. She shifted around, seeming irritated before she finally put a hand on Alex's shoulder.
"Relax, Alex," she murmured.
"I can't," Alex replied, accidentally flipping the pen across the room and hitting some unfortunate woman in the head. She looked down as the woman looked across the room angrily. "I'm too nervous. I don't think I can live through this again."
"You'll do fine," Katherine reassured her.
Alex started to fiddle with her spoon. "I hope so," she said.
At that moment, James entered the little coffee shop. He smiled at the pair and extended his hand. "Thank you for agreeing to do this Alex. I think it's finally time that your story gets out."
"Do you think that anyone will read it?" Alex asked.
James shrugged. "I believe so. Humans have a natural curiosity for incidents that deny human nature."
Alex nodded thoughtfully. "You're right."
"So," James said, pulling out a Dictaphone. "Where do you want to begin?"
Alex smiled at the Dictaphone, the nostalgia for the days when she had first transferred to Fenchurch East overwhelming her. After a moment, however, she started to speak.
"The most remarkable thing about that Monday was how normal everything started out," she began.
Alex talked for nearly three hours, and most of the clientele in the coffee shop had disappeared by the time she finished. She had cried more than once, but Katherine had never needed to nudge her to continue, and James let her talk for the most part, only asking clarifying questions here and there. There were tears in his eyes too as he finally turned off the Dictaphone.
"Do you have everything?" she asked.
James nodded. "I think so. I'll contact you with questions."
"When you do this, I want one thing in return."
"What percent?" James asked.
Alex shook her head, a soft smile appearing on her face. "Do you think I'm really that hard hearted? Giving you my story just so I could make a profit? I'm not that way, James."
James put his hands in the air. "I'm sorry. That's usually the first thing out of people's mouths. I didn't think."
Alex smiled at him again. "What I want is for their pictures to be in the book. I want a mini-biography about them. I'll give you a work version, and you can try to get a family version. If you can get the family version, I want that in there for them."
James swallowed, nodding his head. "I will make sure that we can do that," he promised. "I'll let you know who you need to write for. I will be in contact with you, hopefully sooner, rather than later. Thank you so much for your time, Alex."
Alex nodded, smiling as he walked out. Katherine nudged her. "You did fantastic, Alex."
"I can't believe I did that," she replied. "And it felt...good..."
Katherine smiled. "I think with that, you don't need a psychologist anymore. But if you ever want to get together, or if you ever have a problem, you can ring me. I want to be thought of as your friend now."
Alex smiled. "Thank you," she replied, surprising Katherine by giving her a hug. They squeezed each other tightly, before Alex finally broke away.
Katherine looked at her watch. "I've got to go, but I'd like to have dinner with you. Ring me and we'll set up a time."
Alex nodded. "I will."
Katherine smiled and waved as she left, leaving Alex sitting at the table, amazed at what she had done.
Suddenly, a pen was set on the table in front of her. "I believe this is yours," said a voice. "I found it in my hair a few hours ago."
Alex looked up nervously. A woman was standing there, looking at her with a stern expression. She had blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She was wearing a batwing top and skinny jeans and had a figure that would make a supermodel jealous. Alex's first thought was of how gorgeous she was.
I always did prefer blondes, she thought wryly.
"I'm sorry," she managed eventually. "I was nervous and it flew out of my hands."
The woman cocked an eyebrow, looking more amused than stern. "I was going to return it earlier, but I didn't want to intrude. You seemed to be in some sort of emotional turmoil."
Alex smiled sheepishly. "He was interviewing me. For a book."
The woman frowned, interested. "What about?"
Alex licked her lips nervously, anticipating the woman's reaction. "The Fenchurch East...Massacre," she managed.
The woman's face dawned with sudden realisation and horror. "You're...you're Alex Drake?"
Alex nodded.
"God," the woman murmured. "I can't believe that you were strong enough to be able to get that story out."
Alex smiled. "Neither can I." She motioned to the chair. "Would you like to sit down? We can get a coffee if you like."
The woman looked at the chair to Alex, surprised. "If...if you want my company."
Alex smiled and nodded. The woman sat down across from Alex, still seeming somewhat awestruck.
"I suppose I should introduce myself," the woman said. "My name is Kayleigh Schofield."
Alex smiled at the woman. "You know my name." An awkward silence fell between them and she could tell that Kayleigh still felt awkward about who Alex really was.
"I'm...I'm sorry about the pen," Alex said, fiddling with it now that it had been given back to her.
Kayleigh smiled. "It's okay. You know, I didn't stay to tell you off. I could have taken the pen."
"Well, I appreciate you bringing it back then!" Alex laughed. "Why did you stay, if it wasn't to give me back the pen?"
Kayleigh blushed slightly. "This is going to sound odd, but I can...pick up signals from people. Their general mood, etcetera. When I glanced back at you, even though you were with that woman, I just got a blast of overwhelming loneliness."
"So you felt sorry for me and came over?"
"I have this horrible need to make everyone feel better, no matter what. I just took one look at you and I wanted you to feel better. I..." She coughed, scratching the back of her neck and looking out the window before speaking again.
"I wanted to give you a friend, because when I saw you, I felt like that's what you needed."
Alex stared at the woman, who was now very red faced indeed. She looked down at her coffee, and then back up to Kayleigh, giving her a reassuring smile.
"Your gift," she said. "It's interesting. Almost psychic."
"I wouldn't call it psychic. I can't see the future or anything. I just get a feel of how people really feel. A kind of absolute honesty, which can be really irritating sometimes."
"Oh? How do you mean?"
"You know, someone I really like, I go near them and their mood changes from happy to bitter in an instant. Realising that I'm the cause of that. I'd rather live in blissful ignorance."
Alex smiled softly. "I can understand that. I don't have your gift, but I know how everyone feels as soon as they meet me. I can see it on their faces...the pity. It irritates me to no end. I've never wanted pity from anyone. That's why I'm hoping the book will make things better."
"How do you mean?"
"If people can see how I've recovered, maybe they'll stop labelling me as 'that poor woman.' I just want to fit into society again."
"Well then, to me, you're just Alex Drake, a nice woman who I met at the coffee shop. Your past doesn't matter."
Alex smiled gratefully. "That means more than you know."
"So what else is there to know, Alex? I know that one event in your history, but that's it."
Alex shook her head softly. "I'll just depress you. My life is nothing but sad tales entwined together by my desperate attempts to put some happiness in along the way."
Kayleigh frowned. "Very poetic, but you're not going to scare me away. Tell me about your parents."
Alex smiled to herself. This woman wasn't going to believe her until she told her her whole life story. Well, what would it hurt? At least, if she scared the woman off, she had only known her for a few hours.
"I grew up, thinking my dad was the best person in the world. He would read to me every night he was home. It was The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. We must have read it twenty times. It was my absolute favourite, and he would put on voices for all the characters.
"I always thought I was a burden on my Mum. She was the disciplinarian of the family though. She was more likely to be home than my dad, so of course she got that role. My mum realised that though. She decided to take a sabbatical from her job – she was a solicitor – and just spend time with me. We were getting ready to leave that day, and my parents were murdered. I found out only a few years ago that my father had arranged it. I lived with my godfather though, and he put me through school and University until I joined the police force."
Kayleigh looked dumbstruck.
"What about you?" Alex asked. "What's your life been like?"
"I had a normal middle class childhood. I felt so stifled though, that I became a bit of a wild child when I went to University. Slept around, didn't matter what pair of equipment the person had, as long as they could pleasure me, I was more than happy to sleep with them. That ended quite suddenly when I realised I was pregnant. He was my steady boyfriend at the time, so I wasn't sleeping around and knew that he was the father, at least. We got married: I was only twenty-one. We stayed together for about six years and had another two children. Then we got into a huge fight and one thing led to another and he walked out. I've got the kids."
"How old are they?"
"Fourteen, thirteen and ten. The older two are girls and the younger one's a boy. Carrie, Ella, and Michael. All three a complete handful since they were born. We were half convinced Michael was a goat for a while. He didn't stop eating clothes until he was six."
Alex laughed before responding.
"My daughter was the same way. Well, by being a handful. She tried to grow up too fast. Twelve going on thirty-five, I used to say."
"Was?" Kayleigh asked.
"I used to be a hostage negotiator. I was trying to talk down a suspect and she got afraid and ran towards me. The man didn't even blink...he just shot her...right in the forehead. She was dead on the scene."
"Oh my god," Kayleigh said, horrified.
"I told you I'd depress you."
"How can you make it through all that?" Kayleigh asked, awestruck.
"Because I had to. After my husband and I split up, I got bitter and hardened myself to the world. After I lost Molly, I made my barrier more impenetrable, but Gene broke it down. After he died, I found it again for a while."
"You don't seem to have it now."
Alex smiled gently. "I've been seeing a psychologist for four and a half years. She's helped a lot."
"I'm just...I'm speechless...Well, not literally. You know, since I said those words. Oh, now I just can't stop talking. I'm really rambling aren't I? Oh God I'm sorry. I'm just...vomiting words. Oh God I'll stop now."
Alex started to laugh. "I'll tell you what. I'll give you a day to get coherent, and we'll go out for dinner tomorrow night. How does that sound?"
Kayleigh smiled. "That sounds brilliant. Carrie can watch the younger two. Can I er...borrow your pen?"
Alex handed it over and Kayleigh scrawled a number onto a napkin. "Ring me and let me know the time and place."
Alex nodded. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Tomorrow."
