“Fancy joining them?” asked Stubbs.
“Nah. Not really dressed for it. Anyway, too many people, all queuing up for half an hour to get served, over-the-top prices. Can’t believe I am actually saying this but I think I prefer the social club,” I said.
“Well, the Broad Hampton social club does have its good points.”
“The staff not being one of them.”
“Right, that’s you barred, Cara.”
“Anyway, you’re not exactly dressed for it are you?” I said pointing to his bingo caller’s uniform.
“So, Daniel then?”
“Yeah, Daniel,” I said. “Are you going to go? Shall we go to the reunion, just to see what it’s like?”
Stubbs shrugged. “Maybe. It might be fun.”
“I’m going to go,” I said. “I have to go. I can’t keep being afraid of what people will think. I’m applying for jobs first thing on Monday. Don’t you ever want to move away again?”
“No, I like it, here.” He was telling the truth; it seemed enough for him. “Like, today, oh listen to this right, we had a right laugh because one of the bingo balls went missing and turned out Jim had it in his pocket all along.” He chuckled to himself.
“Stubbs, that’s quite possibly one of the most boring stories involving a bingo ball I have ever heard.”
Stubbs stopped laughing. “Yeah, it is, I suppose. You had to be there.”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “I can tell that being there would possibly make it even more boring.”
Stubbs laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I suppose it was really boring.”
I wondered if Stubbs was having a battered sausage revelation as well.
“You used to want to do so much, Stubbs. So did I. And look at us, still here.”
“Yeah, well things change,” said Stubbs. “And I like working at the club. I like seeing people’s faces when they win. It’s nice; I like making people happy.”
He tilted his head to the side and looked at me quizzically.
“But you’re definitely thinking of leaving again?” he said.
I nodded.
“Reckon you’ll still be here for April’s party?” he said.
“Yeah.” I wasn’t convinced it would be such a good idea. Being the invisible girl at school, I wasn’t sure if anyone would even know who I was. At least Stubbs had an identity of sorts, even if he was the original geek.
“It will be fun,” he said, trying to convince himself.
“Will it?” I said, very much unconvinced, but I didn’t want to miss out this time. “I just don’t want to go and feel like a complete loser with my glorified Saturday job, not having achieved anything.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said, stopping in the road outside the chippy. He gestured up and down himself. “Look at me, I’m an even bigger loser than you. At least you went out there and tried to make a go of it and you’re thinking of trying again.”
“You could too,” I said.
He shrugged. “Think I’ve missed the boat on that one.”
I felt like Stubbs could begin to do the things he enjoyed again. He was just lacking in confidence. Maybe it was the same for me. I got the impression from a few of the things he’d said that he’d been so busy supporting Kim in her career when he lived away, that he’d slotted into her life down south and there wasn’t much room for Stubbs to flourish. I studied him for a while and he looked distracted like something was troubling him. His face slightly screwed up. I think that’s what your face looks like when you are having a battered sausage revelation.
Stubbs could do whatever he wanted. We both could. We could both have our John Hughes moments, our scene at the end when everything was perfect. And I’d go to April’s stupid ball as well, even though it would be such a hard thing to do. Like Andie in Pretty in Pink, I needed them to know they didn’t break me.
I woke on Sunday feeling like I’d barely slept at all and my head was whizzing with thoughts of school reunions, Daniel Rose and disappointing school discos. I was shattered from too much wine and that vile cider and black. I was convinced I would go straight to sleep, but I lay awake for ages and everything came flooding back as though it was yesterday.
I’d made myself invisible nearly all the way through school, then when Daniel appeared suddenly I didn’t want to be invisible any more. I had tried so hard for no one to ever look my way and Daniel had noticed me anyway. He made me think it would be okay for people to see me.
By the time the Christmas disco came around, Daniel Rose had flirted with and asked out every girl in our class apart from me. I told myself I’d been foolish to think he’d even noticed me, but sometimes I caught him looking over in class and he spoke to me in detention every day. Verity said he was probably waiting to ask me to the disco. She thought he liked me too. We both walked home for weeks, saving up our bus fare so we could buy clothes for the Christmas disco, and I lived in hope that Daniel was going to ask me out. I was fed up of not joining in, not taking these moments for myself.
I walked into the hall where Daniel was standing near the door. I thought he might be about to come over and ask me out. Then I was jostled by one of April’s friends who laughed out loud and then muttered “bag lady” as she walked past. I hadn’t heard it in years and it cut deep. Bag lady. How could she be so cruel? This was the moment I had been waiting for, for Daniel to notice me and ask me out. I felt so vulnerable stood in front of all those people. Tears rolled down my face and I couldn’t speak. Daniel Rose was looking right at me. Was he going to save me from this humiliation with a kind word or a look? He looked down at the floor and walked away. I felt Stubbs pull my hand from behind. I wondered if he had heard the unkind words. I wasn’t sure, but I felt his pull and walked away with him.
The following day there were sniggers again, chattering about me barely out of earshot. I should have known not to draw attention to myself.
After that, I went back to being invisible again. It was easier that way.
*
When April had first invited us to the ball, I knew I had to go. I wanted to prove to everybody that all those years of hiding away meant nothing – that I was just as good as everyone else. I’d spent so long feeling invisible and trying to be average, I felt I’d never really had a chance to shine at anything and I hadn’t found my thing.
All the years of missing out on social activities meant I spent a lot of time at home watching films, experiencing all my important moments watching John Hughes films, not having any of my own. But it wasn’t too late to find out what my thing was.
I dragged myself to the convenience shop on the corner of the High Street, just before midday, to seek out some Sunday lunch. In the shop, I found myself browsing the Pot Noodles – such was my glitzy life. I bizarrely found myself wondering what April would be having for her lunch. Something expensive, most probably. April had made a success of things here in Broad Hampton whereas I couldn’t even make a Sunday lunch. I was pleading with Mr Sidhu because last week, I had made him promise never ever, ever to sell me a Pot Noodle on a Sunday again no matter how hung-over I was and how much I begged.
He folded his arms and shook his head slowly, resolutely. He wasn’t going to budge.
“Just this once,” I said, “then I am quitting.”
“This