Installment number 3

Cardiff has long been a favourite place of mine, though I have only been there a handful of times. It's a city that has always seemed to be just what I want when I want it, no matter what that is. So when I went there looking for music, that's what I found, and when I went there looking for peace, that's what I found. I went today looking for sanctuary and for answers. I was uncertain exactly what I would find, but I was sure I'd find it there.

I checked into a big faceless hotel in the city centre under the name of the woman who had run around the service station so many years ago. I paid in cash for one night only, thinking that I could easily pay again in the morning if I wanted to stay. I reluctantly gave over my car registration details so that I could park in the car park and made a note that I may have to switch plates with a car that was already in there. I wasn't entirely sure how switching plates would work, but I'd heard of it happening, so thought that it must be possible, and probably fairly simple, otherwise people would simply steal cars instead.

I tied my long hair in a knot on the top of my head, deciding that I would have to cut it shorter and style it differently in order to change my appearance. That could wait, though.

I walked out of the hotel and turned right away from the river, and into the nearest pub. It was still relatively early to be in a pub, so I got a table easily and perused the menu. I ordered vegetarian lasagne and a pint of generic cider and was given my drink and a large block of wood with a number on it so that they could find where to deliver the food to. I grabbed a local events listing and sat back at the table, leafing through it, though not really taking any of it in. I should have brought a book, but didn't think of it.

I half wanted to sit and eat and drink and then go back to my hotel room and mope, but something in me craved human interaction. Just to speak to someone, or to listen to their stories. I got myself so wrapped up in the idea of a stranger walking over to confide in me that when the server brought my food I invited them to sit down, then mumbled embarrassedly that I was waiting for someone and thought that it was them.

The food was the same standard fare as you got everywhere these days. The token veggie option in a meat-eater's world. That's not true. Most places were pretty good about it these days, but not this place. There was jacket potato with cheese and/or beans and veggie lasagne, which was made of cardboard. I ate it anyway, thirstily gulping at my cider between mouthfuls and wandered to the bar to get another pint halfway through my meal. When I returned a woman was hovering next to my table.

“You sitting here?”
“Um... yeah, but there's space if you want to join me.”

She looked around, clearly thinking about whether she should or not, though I couldn't figure out why.

“Yeah, ok, I guess,” she said, and sat down.

She was probably about 35 with a thick Welsh valley accent. Her hair was cut short and her skin looked prematurely aged by weather or drink, I couldn't tell which.

“You're not from round here,” she said. It was a statement not a question.
“No, I'm from London.”
She grunted slightly, “Don't like it there myself. Too many people. Cardiff's quite busy enough for the likes of me.”
I nodded in agreement, “It's just kind of where I ended up,” I didn't mention Kelly, nor that I had only moved to London a year or so earlier to be with her.
The woman grunted again, then excused herself and went up to the bar.

I gulped down a few more mouthfuls of cider and contemplated running back up to the hotel room, but the woman returned before I could make my decision.

“You're one of us,” she said gesturing toward my chest, and the labrys pendant that Kelly had given me on our 6 month anniversary and that I hadn't taken off since. Again, it was a statement, not a question.
“Um... yeah, I guess so.”
“Big party tonight if you fancy it,” she said, and handed me a flyer.
“Um... sure, maybe. I have... um... some work to do, but if I have time, I'll try to get there.”
The woman grunted again and nodded.

I finished my pint and stood up telling the woman that I should try to get my work done, then left the pub and went back up the hotel room. I had no intention of going out tonight, but showered and changed when I got in anyway. Once again, I curled up on the bed with Kelly's jacket, taking in its scent and crying at my loss.