TT 5 - Sian and Dezzy

It’s a good song. Guitars strum in a bouncing, stadium-friendly rhythm. Vocals rise and fall in a glamorously pained minor key. It sounds both familiar and new. For three minutes and seventeen seconds Sian Carduggan is content; she is supremely alive, lying back in the half-reclined passanger seat, feet on the dashboard, the late afternoon sun warming the toes of her socked feet as they flex in time to the music. She watches the people streaming over the footbridge. The London train has just come in with the first batch of commuters. She ought to be getting home. She takes one last cigarette from the packet, puts it into her mouth, then lights it with Dezzy’s gold lighter. When not puffing she lets it hang out of the window so the cab doesn't stink too much of tobacco.

Dezzy is standing out on the rank talking distractedly in Turkish on his mobile phone. He constantly shifts his weight. If he’s not jangling his keys, he’s fussing over the paintwork on the bonnet, or kicking at the front tyre with the toe of his white trainers. He’s talking to his wife, Sian thinks. The track has come to an end. She jabs at the CD consol and waits for the song to emerge again from the quadraphonic door speakers. A couple of scraggy looking old men stumble out of The Railway Tavern. Sian recognises one of them as their lodger, Len. She slides down a little lower in the seat and watches him ambling out into the road. He really does have an unusually small head, she thinks. Where is his brain? It must be the size of a cat’s.

‘What you laughing at?’ Dezzy swings himself back into the driver's seat as though he’s just robbed a bank.
‘Nothing.’ Sian offers him a drag.
‘What you want to smoke for, eh?’ He asks her, taking it between his thumb and forefinger as though it’s a joint.
‘I dunno - what you want to smoke for?’ She imitates his accent.
‘Yeah, but I's a lost case? But you, young and healthy. What your parents think if they know?’
Sian shrugs. ‘Do you want to go out for a drive later?’
‘I dunno’ Dezzy looks uneasy.
‘Oh go on. I’ll say I’m taking the dog for a walk. We can go up to the woods.’ She puts her hand on his thigh.
‘That dog gonna die from lack of exercise it keep taking a cab everywhere’
Sian laughs. Dezzy's quite funny sometimes. ‘Shall I see you on the corner at ten?’
‘Not tonight, Babe.’
‘Why?’
‘You too fat and ugly.’ He pauses, deadpan, then turns to her. ‘Look at your face!’ He cracks up.

‘Hey, baby, I only joking. No seriously, I got other things I have to do tonight. I pick you up after school tommorow, though, yeah?’
‘I can’t’
‘Aw come on’ he puts his stubbly cheek against her neck, ‘we go to the beach. I got some good resin, really mellow, very nice quality.' He kisses her finger tips. 'Come on baby, I miss you lately.’
‘I really can’t. I’m...’ she turns away, embarrassed. ‘I’m in this school play thing. It’s bollocks really, but I can’t get out of it.’
‘You in a play? What part you play?’ He seems impressed.
‘Lady Macbeth.’
‘You! A Lady! That’s a laugh innit?’ .
‘Hilarious’ Sian says. ‘Well, I'd better go.' She takes one last draw on the cigarette and flicks the butt out through the open window. She slips her feet back into her flat black school shoes and gets out of the car. ‘Text me.’She says, leaning back in through the open door.
‘I might.’
‘You’re such a shit, sometimes.’
‘Yeah, but you love me anyway.’ He shows her his white teeth.
Sian puts her bag over her shoulder, rolls her eyes and starts to walk up the road, swaying her hips just slightly. Dezzy jabs at the car horn and leans out of the window. ‘Hey!’
Sian turns, her face stand-offish.
‘You forgot this, you noddle!’ He’s holding her flute case out of the window.