Unlikely Places (3 page)

Thursday

I arrived at the YMCA building a little before seven, the
thought of the next hour was starting to fill me with dread, let alone ten
hours of talking about drinking, my parents’ divorce, dad’s death and my
previous counselling wasn’t filling me with joy.

I had passed by the YMCA building many times but as I
thought about it, it was one of the many buildings I had taken very little
notice of considering its size. The four storey building stretched about the
length of three double decker buses, with as I discovered a sizable car park
around the back. The building looked quite worn constructed with red brick and
with carved stone detail around the doors and windows. Leaving my range rover
in the car park I walked around the front of the building entering through a
large carved archway with curved wooden doors. The reception counter on the
left was manned by a tall slim woman who pointed me in the direction of
conference room one.

The door was ajar I could hear paper shuffling on the other
side, I knocked softly as the door swung fully open brining me face to face
with a middle aged man with a bushy beard.

“Hi....I’m looking for Mike Green?” I said nervously.

“You’ve found him.....are you Alexandra Philips?”

“Yes”.

“Come in....take a seat”. He started to offer his hand for
me to shake than changed his mind waving me to a selection of chairs. The room
was bare apart for some historical prints of the city on the walls.

“Thanks”. I
chose what I hoped was the most comfortable chair, is this the first test?

“I was just looking at my notes, so you’re down for ten
hours of counselling plus some community payback time?”

He removed his glasses to look at me again. “Yes that’s
right”. I said looking at the varnished but worn parquet floor, feeling
thoroughly embarrassed.

“Have you started your payback yet?”

“No not yet”.

“Okay so my job here is to produce a report for the
probation service.....keep them informed of any problems or progress”.

I nodded in agreement.

He looked up pen poised to write. “So...are you employed at
the moment?”

“Yeah....I work for a small text book publishing firm I do
some of the dtp layout work”.

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah its ok I get to choose my own hours which I like
so....”.

“Good so......Why do you think you’re here?” He asked
observing me wriggling uncomfortably in my chair.  

Deep breath. “Well....I think it was officially called
alcohol related destruction to property....but basically I smashed up two
cars”. Hoping my honesty would be rewarded in the future.

“How much would you say you drink on average per week?”

Here we go. “Um I’d say nothing to a bottle of wine
maybe.....not much”.

“But not that day......Why do you think you drank so much
that particular day?”

“I don’t know....I think I....just got a bit wound up and
lost it for a bit....I guess”.

“Has it happened before?...Or since?”

“No”. I was grateful there was no sign of smugness in his
voice.

“So...you think it’s an isolated incident?”

“I hope so....yes”.

“Was there something going on in your life at that time?”

“You’ve read my file...I’m sure it says my father died in a
car accident”.

“Yes it does”. He looked back to his papers. “He died in
January almost two years earlier....were you struggling with your loss at this
time?”

“I....think I’d come to terms with it by then...I’d had
bereavement counselling for a while after he died”.

“Do you have any close family nearby?”

“A sister she lives nearby we’re pretty close”.

“What about your mother?”

“My parents got divorced when I was fifteen...my sister and
I both moved with my father....she disappeared from our lives...I don’t have
any contact with her...I think my sister does I’m not sure”.

“Would you like to have contact with her?”

“I don’t know....maybe I haven’t seen her for so long...I
don’t know...I don’t really think about it”. He scribbled down more notes
before posing a further question.

“Tell me about the cars you damaged?”

“I...Um I heard about a close friend being caught for drink
driving....it made me angry they were a close friend that had helped me get
over the death of my father.....I...it brought it all back up again I got drunk
and....lost it for a bit...I didn’t plan it really or I guess I wouldn’t have
got caught it was just a stupid drunken idea...I was just angry....I don’t
think I could have hurt anyone...I just wanted to get my frustrations out...”.

“Two cars?”

I smiled at him. “Well drunk people make mistakes you
see....I wouldn’t have done it if I was sober”.

Over the next two weeks my sessions with Mike had become
akin to relaxed chats with a friend, I had really warmed to him far more than
my previous counsellor. I was genuinely surprised at how we was able to pull
information from me, and make me look at it in a different way. We discussed my
childhood with my parents before they divorced and the impact it had on Nat and
me, alongside the intensity of losing him when effectively we had already lost
our mother. Although I still needed to work on reigning in my ideas of
retribution which still reared its ugly head on occasion when provoked. I had
however started to feel stronger and clearer in my need to sort myself out I
had even started to think about going back to college to further my photography
skills or maybe build a portfolio to apply for an MA.

Thursday

My phone woke me from my daydream starring at the computer
screen blankly looking at a colourful wiring diagram I picked up my phone
answering it without even looking at the caller id very risky for me, I must
have been having an off day.

“Hello”. I heard my own scratchy voice from not talking for
several hours.

“Alexandra Philips?” The voice of a sharp female rang in my
ear.

“Yes...speaking”. God what a mistake debt management again,
it just goes to prove how random their calls are I haven’t had any debt since
leaving University six years ago. I was just about to hang up when she spoke
again this time slightly friendlier.

“It’s Caroline Richards from the Probation Service, hello”.

“Oh, hello”. This could only be bad news, please don’t
extend my counselling Mike was nice but not that nice.

“I have a placement for you set up for Monday....it’s with a
community project workforce at the West Point Nature Reserve”.

“Right...okay”. It had to happen sooner or later, I guess it
means I’m not a complete nutter if they are willing to let me lose out in
public so Mike must have been favourable in his report. “Where abouts do I need
to go?”

“You need to be at the ranger’s office at nine it’s near the
adventure playground....do you know where that is?”

“Yes I think so...not far from the car park?” I was trying
to visualise it in my head from the last time I had been there with Lucy a few
months ago, when we had heavy snow.

“That’s right....you need to ask for a Peter Murry when you
get there he’s the project leader, he’ll sign you in and track your hours for
the day....Okay?”

“Do you know what we’ll be doing?....What should I wear?” I
asked rapidly making notes of names and locations on an envelope I found
nearby. 

“Um let me see.....graffiti removal I think....so wear old
clothes....Okay as before contact me if there are any problems”.

“Okay thanks”. I think.

Does that mean if I don’t want to go at all I hopefully
thought, although I had been expecting it the thought of it made me very
uneasy. I made a mental note to contact Nat to let her know I wouldn’t be able
to take on as much work. As I sat there contemplating a potential illness that
just might make an appearance before Monday I realised I hadn’t asked if it was
a full day or not, of course it was just putting off the inevitable but as that
never really hurt anyone did it!

Monday

My alarm woke me at seven to give me a chance to dress
sufficiently for the predicted frosty January day. A warm breakfast of porridge
and tea followed by sandwich making and a flask preparing readying me for a
full day if required.

Arriving at the nature reserve a little before nine I took
the time to look at the large information map to familiarise myself with the
layout of the reserve, checking my phone I walked over to the rangers hut ready
for nine. As I approached I could see several individuals waiting outside
reminding me of the line-up for the ‘Usual Suspects’ or the ‘Dirty Dozen’ they
were plucked from all ages and backgrounds. As I rounded the corner I could see
a man with a clip board assuming this was Peter Murry I approached him with a
friendly smile. It wasn’t reciprocated, he wore a frown as I got closer
speaking with a growl.

“Name?”

“Alex Philips”.

“You’re the last one.....right two minutes then we’ll get
started”.

Was I late? I turned to see each of my fellow comrades
staring at me, I managed to look away without making eye contact with any of
them deciding to look at the frosted muddy ground instead.

“Right listen up we’re working on the far side of the
reserve today at the railway bridge removing the graffiti....some of the
equipment is over there the rest needs to be transported there with the wheel
barrows....okay?”

There were audible groans from the troops as he handed out
the obligatory hi-viz vests to shame us with the general public using the park.
To me it was just another layer of warmth considering the thickness of the
frost on the ground. As I studied by frenimies I couldn’t help but try and
class them for their criminal activities, of the seven of us five were men of various
heights all of which looked like regulars. Each of them wrapped up in several
layers of fleece and leisure wear trousers accompanied with army boots. The
other female wore rather more skimpy clothing with a fetching pair of white and
pink trainers, as I looked at her she seemed to be eying my walking boots with
envy.

“Glad I’m not da only girl”. She said in a thick Jamaican
accent as she walked over to me.

I smiled. “Hi....I’m Alex”. I almost offered my hand,
changing my mind at the last minute slipping it in my pocket instead.

“Tamika.....is dis your first time too?”

“Yeah.....you?”

She bent to whisper near me. “Yes.....but my friend told me
he’s a bit of a dick”. She nodded towards Murry who had his back to us as he talked
on his phone.

I giggled. “I can believe it”.

There were no volunteers to push the barrows so I stupidly
stepped forward hoping it would make the day go that little bit quicker, it
also seemed to encourage others. As we reached the work site I was slightly
daunted by the size of our task, the stone railway bridge was covered from top
to bottom with various layers of graffiti in numerous colours and styles. I
heard Tamika suck her teeth behind me as we stopped to look at our mission she
let out an elongated “Fuuuuucccck” for good measure.

I turned grinning at her as she shot a wide toothy smile at
me, Murry made short work of delegating jobs to us all leaving him to fire up
the pressure washer as we cleared the vegetation around the walls of the
bridge. After a short break during which I ate all my lunch figuring it would
be less to carry back, I watched as Tamika ate three Mars bars.

We were then put in small teams to scrub the lower walls of
the bridge with buckets of chemicals, which only seemed to blur the graffiti
making it all blend in to one layer of crap. While Murry took on the task of
the higher walls with the pressure washer making sure everyone suffered with a
light spray on occasion.

I could see the sly look on Murry’s face as he continued to fire
the water in Tamika’s direction fully aware he was splashing her, I couldn’t
restrain myself from stealthily treading on the coiled pipe behind him with
both feet. Realising the water pressure had been reduced he stupidly couldn’t
resist looking down at it just as I released my feet the force nearly knocked
his hat off his head. I caught Tamika’s eye as I walked away suppressing a grin
as I innocently continued scrubbing the lower walls with renewed gusto.

The Murry mint let us down tools at three in the afternoon
just as the sun had disappeared from view, we hastily packed the tools and
barrowed to the rangers hut double time.

Returning home I put the water on to ensure the searing heat
would scold the grime from my body, taking a beer from the fridge I undressed
placing all my clothes in the washer. Creeping upstairs in the near dark to
preserve my dignity from any unsuspecting neighbours, I ran a hot bath soaking
for a long as I could stand it. Day dreaming about the day I smiled to myself
as I now understood the saying - payback is a bitch.

Wednesday

Caroline had informed me of my next payback session to be
spent clearing some waste ground next to a playground, with I’m pleased to say
a different project leader I hoped it would be a more relaxed affair. This was
to a two day event due to the size of the job which required another phone call
to my sister to let her know I would be away from my computer for a few days.

Arriving at the site with a new set of fellow workers I
could see why it was a two day job, the area to be cleared was about the size
of a football pitch. After a safety talk on tool use by project leader Owen, we
were let loose with slashers to begin cutting back all the brambles.
Considering the lack of co-ordination of some of my team I decided to work a
safe distance away from everyone choosing a far corner. The work was tiring
with a constant slinging action required to make any headway. The lunch break
was very welcome but all too short, with the slashing continuing until three thirty
when we were released. The day had taken its toll requiring another marathon
soak with copious amounts of beer.