Issue 9 - Gold Dust magazine

She was eight months
pregnant with our first child. The
words she's kicking again
seemed to burn a hole straight
through my head. The thought
of my unborn daughter, and the
choice we made to have a family
of our own, cut through me
as if I had just found out we
were pregnant.
I held back my tears.
It was then that I realised I
was staring at the arrivals
screen as returning holidaymakers
scrambled for their luggage.
'Can you get me a trolley,'
said a lady with bleached splitends
protruding from her distinctive
gray roots.
I observed her, wondering
whether I knew this woman.
'Can you get me a trolley…sorry,'
she paused,
perhaps she'd mistaken
me for someone else.
'Do…you…speak…English?'
she said, highlighting each syllable.
Did I work here and just
didn't know it?
'Yes, I speak perfectly good
English, thank you very much.'
She was suddenly taken
aback. She looked shocked,
almost appalled. 'Well then, can
you get me a trolley…please.'
Her final remark sounded less
like a polite pleasantry, more a
'how dare you question my
authority'.
'The trolleys are over
there.' I pointed. 'Get one yourself.'
She scowled. 'How dare
you speak to me like that! Get
me your superior, I want to
speak to your manager right
away.'
Lucy tapped me on the
shoulder. 'What's going on?'
'I wish I knew. This woman
thinks I work here.'
'Excuse me madam, but
what makes you think my husband
works here.'
The woman eyed me up
and down. She appeared
embarrassed by her mistake
but she wasn't going to let that
stop her.
Her expression became a
scowl as she eyed Lucy's pregnant
stomach. 'It's not right that,
The first murderer and the
eldest of the gang was Jason
Liddle...He enjoyed riding his
motorbike, listening to hiphop
and rap music, and
spending time with his
friends.
you know.' She seemed disgusted.
'You and him…'
'What!' Lucy lurched forward
in defence, her expression
that of anger.
I put my arms around her,
gently. 'C'mon, lets go.'
I was embarrassed but I
didn't know why.
'How dare you say that,'
screamed Lucy.
Other people started to
stare. I could feel their glares on
the back of my neck, under my
skin; each of them staring at the
Asian man and his white wife.
'C'mon,' I said again, grabbing
the trolley and pushing
both it and my wife away. 'Let's
www.golddustmagazine.co.uk - Issue 9 - Winter 2007
The Meaning of April [cont’d]
get home.'
Lucy pushed my hands
away and we began to move
towards the exit.
As we walked it felt like
everyone we passed was looking,
judging. 'They're all wondering
what a guy like me is
doing in an airport…'
She suddenly stopped, her
face turning towards me. 'No,'
she snapped, her voice nearly
breaking from her overuse of it.
'Don't ever think that. You're
always going on about it - how
people look at you, how people
treat you differently, how waiters
in restaurants put us on
tables as far away from everyone
else as possible. It's all in
your imagination.'
Tears streamed down her
face. She never used much
make-up but I could see her
eyeliner had streaked.
'That woman is the minority
- get that through your skull.'
She moved closer to me, placing
her hands on my cheeks. 'I
love you, Adrian.'
I thought she was going to
kiss me but instead I felt a stinging
pain rise up on my face as
she slapped me hard.
'Don't ever talk that way,
and don't think it either. No matter
what people say, that sort of
stuff doesn't come into our family.'
I nodded. It was more out
of shock than anything. I'd
never seen her like this before.
She grabbed the trolley and
pushed it away. I stood there for
a second, then chased after
her, taking hold of the trolley
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