Ouch, he smiles.
We walk in silence for a while.
You hated me before I said anything to you, he says.
That’s true.
Why.
Your car.
Don’t you think that’s very closed-minded of you.
Yes, it is. Because you’re actually quite okay.
He shakes his head and laughs.
It makes me confused about the yellow car. It doesn’t seem to match who you are.
What’s wrong with a yellow Ferrari.
What’s right about it.
I bought the Ferrari because it was my dream to have a sports car. Like most boys. And when I bought it, I felt like it was the best moment in my life. That I’d made it. But you’re right about it not fitting me and my life. I still live at home with my parents … Truth is, I can’t drive it home because of the speed bumps in the housing estate, so I have to park it at a garage every day. I call my dad and he meets me there and drives me home on his way back from work. So much for independence and making it in the world.
I laugh.
And the reason it’s yellow is because it was the only one they had in stock. I actually wanted a silver one. Gunmetal with a red interior, but I had to wait months for that … I was so excited, I couldn’t wait. Shouldn’t you be giving tickets or something, we’re just walking here.
You know there are a lot of days when I don’t issue many tickets. I’m not an animal.
What about them.
We look across to a van parked on a wide pavement. Two men are fitting windows to a house. When working with glass, I explain, rules state you must park very close to the spot, so they’re allowed on the pavement.
Oh.
You’re disappointed, I laugh.
I want to get someone. I want some action.
It’s not about getting people, Tristan, it’s about observing the law, respecting the rules.
You really believe that.
Of course, why do you look so surprised. You think I was doing this to catch people out. Rules are a gift. Wouldn’t you love a rule book to help you out of your little hole at work right now. I mean, why else would you be looking for motivational quotes. You want to be guided. Isn’t that just another way of following rules.
He gets the action he wants when we circle back to the village and see a white van parked on double yellow lines outside a house. Hazard lights on. The hallway door is open and the builder is inside sawing wood.
Go on, get him, Allegra, Tristan says, as if I’m a guard dog. Cats, he hisses in my ear.
I stop and watch the guy.
Come on, Tristan urges me.
Wait, I say, keeping an eye on the time. When two minutes is up, I approach him. Excuse me, I say, you can’t park here on double yellow lines.
I was just loading, he says, barely meeting my eye.
No you weren’t.
He looks at me like he wants to use the saw on me.
I was loading, he says slowly, as though I’m stupid. Therefore I can legitimately park. I’m old enough to know the rules of the road, young one.
I feel Tristan tensing beside me and I put my hand out to stop him from advancing. Let me, I say quietly.
I’ve observed you for two minutes and there are no signs of loading here.
I’m impassive as he roars at me, drops his stuff, grabs his keys, swears at me as he gets in the car and speeds off.
Jesus, Tristan says, watching him, anger pumping through him. Do you get many like him.
Sometimes, I smile. Sometimes people are nice and will apologise when I give them a ticket. Most are defensive and some are aggressive. It makes you realise what people are going through. It’s a trigger that can let loose built-up stress, I say the words that Paddy said to me when he was training me. Now I understand them better. Oddly Tristan has helped me to understand that. Maybe you can learn about humans.
I don’t think I’d have the temperament to be talked to like that, he says, which I think is nonsense because I’ve witnessed his staff speaking to him in what I consider unacceptable ways but I don’t say this.
Who was the worst person you ever had, he asks.
You, I say quietly. You got to me the most. And I walk on.
Twenty-One
I browse through Daisy’s Instagram photos to get a sense of what she wears on a night out. We’re going out tonight, Saturday night. But first I have the live art session at Monty’s. I no longer have the physically sick feeling when I think back to Tuesday night. The I will never drink again mantra has left me, which is timely because I’m going to need some Dutch courage to meet up with Daisy after all this time. Her life is phenomenal. She works with an international aid charity, she travels the world. She’s selfless and sophisticated. She has a level of class that I just don’t have and I’m hoping some of that can rub off on me. Right after I pose nude for a group of strangers, some of whom I’ve slept with.