Topics About Which I Know Nothing

‘I might today, if you don’t invite her.’

We prepare ourselves for an awkward moment when the day ends, but Tammy just bags up the jumper she’s slung over the back of her chair, waves bye, and leaves.

‘The cheek,’ says Maryam.

8

I bring two pints of bitter and one pint of lager to the table. The lager is for Maryam from Africa. It seems surprising that she drinks lager, but I suppose there’s no reason she shouldn’t. I get the drinks every night, even when it’s just me and Percy, because Percy can’t be trusted to carry anything. He’s all right once he’s standing or once he’s sitting; it’s the in-between that’s tricky, and that includes leaning. The management of the Cock & Cloisters have even barred him from handling small glasses of spirits.

‘Cheers, mate,’ says Percy. Maryam from Africa nods a thank you. Percy and I each take a swig from our bitters. Maryam downs half of her pint in one long, graceful draught. It’s almost beautiful. She dabs her lip with a serviette and says, ‘I don’t like this new girl.’

‘Me neither,’ I say.

‘She’s not so bad,’ says Percy.

‘You say that about everyone,’ I say.

‘You say the boss isn’t so bad,’ says Maryam.

‘He isn’t,’ says Percy.

Maryam looks at me with eyebrows that say ‘point proven’.

‘And what kind of a name is Tammy for a grown woman?’ she says.

‘I reckon it’s American,’ I say, ‘but she doesn’t sound American.’

‘It’s South African,’ says Percy. ‘Short for Tamara.’

We stare at him.

‘How d’you know that?’ asks Maryam.

‘I asked,’ says Percy.

‘When?’ I say.

‘On the afternoon break,’ he says. ‘You were in the loo. Maryam was on the phone to her mum. It was just me and Tammy, so I asked. Polite conversation.’

Maryam hmphs again.

‘Hi everyone,’ says Tammy, suddenly appearing at our table from the cigarette haze of the pub.

‘You left before we could ask you along,’ says Percy, fast, before the rest of us even take in who Tammy is.

‘That’s all right,’ says Tammy. ‘I’d agreed to meet the boss here anyway.’ She points towards the bar, and sure enough, there’s the boss holding what looks like a pint of Guinness and a G & T. Maryam from Africa sighs and starts scooting over to make room for Tammy and the boss.

‘No need,’ says Tammy. ‘We’re sitting over there with some of the workers from the other rooms. What am I saying? I’m sure you know them better than I do.’

We all look to the corner she’s pointing at. From the silence, I gather I’m not the only one who doesn’t recognise anyone.

‘Every room is kind of its own little world,’ says Percy.

‘Of three people?’ says Tammy hysterically. Is she on drugs that she’s this upbeat? ‘Awfully small world, if you ask me.’ She punches Percy playfully on the shoulder. He falls off his chair to the green, sticky carpet. ‘Oh my God,’ says Tammy. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Nothing to worry about,’ says Percy, helping himself back up. ‘You weren’t to know.’

We all hear the boss say Tammy’s name across the pub. He still has the drinks. He sees us, but he doesn’t come over. That’s the way everyone wants it.

‘Gotta go,’ says Tammy. ‘See you all tomorrow.’

‘I hope she doesn’t have any problem meeting her quota,’ says Percy, watching the back of Tammy move away from us.

‘She won’t,’ says Maryam from Africa. ‘Probably get the quota raised, her.’

‘And you’re married, Perce,’ I say.

‘It doesn’t mean my eye is wandering if I hope that someone doesn’t get sent to the end of the hall,’ he says.

‘Never gonna happen,’ says Maryam, before downing the rest of her pint. It’s even more beautiful when she does it this time.

9

‘I don’t mean to alarm you, madam,’ I say, ‘but it’s a fact that crime rates for Hove are through the roof this year.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘With our self-defence course, though, that fact doesn’t have to scare you.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘In fact, it’s not self-defence we’re selling. It’s peace of mind.’

‘You’ve said fact three times in a row.’

‘I believe in the product, madam.’

‘How much are you asking for it?’

‘Can you really put a price tag on peace of mind?’

‘You obviously have.’

10

Today Tammy’s nametag says ‘Tammy On Top.’ I hear her talking to a customer on the phone behind me.

‘Listen, Mrs Rosen,’ she says, ‘I got your phone number, didn’t I? Ex-directory is only a lie that keeps you from getting called by those too lazy to do further searching.’