THE STUDENT: A tale of love, lust, sex and the struggle of a poverty stricken student’s life Read online

  THE STUDENT

  A ARCHIE

  eBook Edition Published by A. Archie

  Copyright © A. Archie 2016

  A. Archie has asserted his right under the Copy Right, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction based on facts. Any resemblance between the fictional characters and the actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  First published in Great Britain in March 2016 by A. Archie

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  CONTENTS

  PART ONE

  Expect the Unexpected

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  PART TWO

  A Reflexion

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  PART THREE

  Journey to England

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  PART FOUR

  Brooding the Nest

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  PART FIVE

  A Job

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  PART SIX

  Driving Mad

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  PART SEVEN

  Falling in Love

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  PART EIGHT

  Hard Times

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  PART NINE

  Life in Ceylon

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  PART TEN

  The Parting

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  PART ONE

  Expect the Unexpected

  Chapter One

  I

  t was gone past 10.00pm. A long hard day at my new job had come to an end. I was upstairs on my way to fetch my stuff from the staff room lockers when I heard a girl saying “Bye”. I looked towards where the voice came from. Few girls were going home and some of whom I knew. But it was this girl amongst them with long blonde hair who said “Bye” with a wave of her hand. I replied “Bye”. I had never seen her before. For it had only been a couple of days since I joined Max Mara in November 2005, a large department store mainly selling clothes.

  I drove home wondering who she was and what her name was? I would have to wait till another day or two if not more to find out. My life had always been a long wait and still it is. How hard life has been since I was born. I was not aware of myself until one day, I was about three or four then, I stood in front of my mum’s wardrobe and looked at myself in the mirror. For the first time in my life I was conscious of myself, my soul, me being alive in this world. I was all alone at home. The realization of me, the thought of me, was to change the cause of my life forever from that day. I did not leave the mirror for some time, as I was locked up in the thought of “Who am I?”. And it still echoes inside me.

  Few days passed by before I saw her again, it was at the tills where we gathered before the start of our shifts to find out what jobs each of us had for the day. The conversation was brief. She said that she had just started university and was from another Max Mara store in her home town. She was here during the term time. Her name badge carried the name “Faye”. She was very pleasant to talk to. Her face lightened up as we talked. She was simple, quiet, about five foot and two inches, slim, long blonde straight hair tied up into a pony tail and very nice. I wanted to know how she travelled to work. I asked “How do you get here?”. She replied “I walk”. I knew that it was not very safe for a pretty girl of her age to walk home alone at night. May be I could offer her a lift? I did not want her to walk home alone on a rainy wintry night in case should anything happen to her. I did not have a posh car. In fact, it was my first car, I paid £395. First registered in 1989, low mileage. I was the second registered owner although it was used by the first lady owner and her daughter. A five door hatch back with four-wheel drive, I was ready for all weathers.

  Next time I had a chance to talk to her was at the staff lunch room. We were all alone. She asked “How old are you?”. And not giving me a chance to answer the question, she said “You will stay looking younger for a long time” pointing at my hands with her eyes. I wondered what to say and words stopped as I could not think for I was not so sure what intentions she had, love, friendship, or none at all? I had a soft skin. I looked very much younger for my age. I was thirty-three then, however I did not tell her how old I was. Instead, I said to her “I am a bit older then you think”. I asked “How old are you now?”. She was nineteen. She blushed and drew circles on the table with her index finger as she said “Ni…ne…teen…”.

  Now I was beginning to enjoy working there as I could see her. I did not mind doing the evening shift even though I had opted out to do it before. And that was the only way I could have the same shift as hers for her being at the university during the day. When I started working at Max Mara, I only offered to do the week day morning shift as I was occupied with other things during the weekend and evenings. Weekday evenings, two or three evenings to be precise, I was attending a Kung Fu class which I enjoyed every much. I was taking a special class with my teacher on Saturdays. For now, I was going to do the evening shift at Max Mara on the days I did not have Kung Fu.

  My brother in law was in the apparel industry, so I always had this idea of opening a clothes store but I did not have the experience in retailing apparel. I wanted to understand the selling cycle, trends, shopper behaviour and all that. That was the first reason for me to join Max Mara. Second, I was looking for a second job. I already had a job at Cargill’s, a leading supermarket retail chain. When I applied to join Max Mara, I however did not disclose it. For I never looked for a job for life. I always wanted to be my own boss. I had always been so since I was a little boy.

  Days passed by. Our chances of having a chat on the shop floor was minimal. Most of the girls at work were a lot younger than me even though in general half of the staff were in their thirties, forties, fifties or even mid-sixties. So I did not feel it appropriate to act like a child and follow her every move on the shop floor. Besides, I had to be extra careful because of my colour. And not to encourage any unwelcome jealousy as every guy at work seemed to be w
anting to talk to her and be friends with even if they already had girlfriends, wives or children for that matter but I did not.

  Soon, I was privileged enough again to be sitting with her alone in the staff canteen. Until now everything had been happening all right, even the timing of our breaks. We were having the breaks at the same time. Had the person who did the rota been kind to us or blissfully unaware of our little exchanges? Surely unaware unless otherwise planned which I began to suspect of the later in my life. I asked her “How are you finding your new life at the university and life in a new town?”. She said “I like it”. She asked “Have you lived in Cambridge all your life?”. I do not lie like most other guys do. So I replied “No”. She asked “Where did you live before?”. I replied hesitantly “I was not born here”. I added that “I was born in Sri Lanka”. Though I prefer the name, the English used to call it during the British colony “Ceylon” which I continue to use. Her face dropped. I could never forget that expression on her face ever again. Her face sank with sadness as if the whole world had collapsed in front of her. Then she didn’t seem really want to talk to me. Was it over? I still don’t know why it made her so upset?

  Chapter Two

  Max Mara employed more girls than there were guys. Most of them either being a fresher at a university or over sixteens from local schools. It was time for everyone to learn the trade as well as get to know their colleagues at work and make new friends. The university going staff came from different towns and cities. Straight out from school, they were so excited to be at university, first year in fact. With little knowledge about the outside world, they must not have yet realised that the student life was going to be so hard for them.

  I did expect them to talk about the countries they had travelled to, different cuisines they tried and the golden sandy beaches they did not want to leave behind. I tend to get on with people who have well-travelled and well read. You have plenty to talk about their adventures and lots in common. I wanted to travel around the world when I was a teenager, learn about different countries and their cultures. I would talk to anybody.

  I was till trained soon after I had joined. You get called to the checkouts whenever there was a long queue. Otherwise, you would spend your day in your allocated department replenishing, tidying up and attending to the new stocks. Sometimes you get a chance to talk to certain colleagues only at the checkouts as you stand next to each other in a row few feet apart. Some guys would talk to you while serving a customer, which is very rude. Or another guy would ask you about personal stuff in front of everyone. Oh no, piss off mate.

  One afternoon, we got called again to the tills. I was next to a girl called Sam, she was not the prettiest, taller than me and about size eighteen. She was again a university student. I had said hello to her before. I thought I would talk to her. I did not fancy her at all. But it was nice to talk to everybody and get to know them. The checkouts were busy. She was already talking to her female colleagues on the left and I was on the right. I would not normally join other people’s conversations. That was not my nature. As they were talking about things in general and as I wanted to get to be friends with her, I talked in favour of what she had just said. She immediately said “I am not talking to you”. Well, it was my fault trying to be nice. I would wait for my turn.

  I had a moto when I was a child. That helped me tackle anybody and specially the bullies. If someone grins, I blame. If someone blames, I hit, if someone hits, I kill. I never killed anybody though. But I hit many. Anybody that came alone my way and crossed the line. It made me a confident person, no matter how big they were. I decided to ignore Sam, but would deal with her. She talked to Faye and both were at the same university. I thought it would be best, at least, to talk to her but she did not. Had Faye told her about me? Did Sam not want Faye to go out with me? Where did that sudden anger come from? Oh well, I have medicine for that.

  Some customers were regulars. Among them were few good looking girls. One was, I believe, in her late twenties, tall, long black hair and with a bum you could not take your eyes off. She was in the habit of talking to me. She looked at me erotically as she talked to me. She wanted me inside her. I could see it in her eyes. She was a sex goddess, perfect features and right curves in every possible angle. The presence of her just turned me on. I always talked to her. I felt like risking anything to get her to bed but Faye. I would have to wait. Faye was for life not just for a one-night stand.

  I wanted to get this lady’s number. I even did not know her name yet. She always came with a much older guy. Her behaviour did not suggest that it was her boyfriend. She must be very rich. He must be a friend or relative. If not just a casual thing, you know what I mean. Why did she want to talk to me whenever she was there shopping? There must be something. I knew what it was.

  Natalie always came with her mum. I caught her looking at me few times. She always smiled. One day I went and talked to her. She said her name was Natalie. She was slim, about five foot six, long blonde hair and about twenty. They came once or twice a week, every week and spent a good deal of time browsing. Um, what should I do with her?

  Did Natalie enjoy a flirt or was she the kind of girl hoodwinking me in the guise of steeling ladies’ underwear? I wanted to find out. One day, she was on her own going through the ladies’ wear, ladies’ tops. I approached her. She smiled. I asked “Do you have a contact number?”. She immediately knew what my intentions were and said in a slow low voice “I am a traveller. Gypsies marry within” and looked at me thoughtfully. I was sure she liked me but she has to marry within her community one day. It must have worried her. She was intelligent enough to understand it and not waste my time. If she had chosen me. She would have to risk losing her clan. I liked her in a particular way, she was genuine. I would have gone for her otherwise.

  I took everything cool and absorbed what was out there. I did not give a fuck as my focus was elsewhere. Did Faye think that Ceylonese marry within? Was that what made her so upset? It is a known fact that most Asians have arranged marriages. But not necessarily, traditionally that would have been the case, our families do not. I could recall something that happened soon after I had told Faye that “I was not born here”. There was an Indian girl. She was I believe a year older than Faye and went to the same university. We were all approaching the staff room after work. I overhead the Indian girl, Asha saying to Faye as they passed through the door “They do not have arranged marriages”. Then Asha noticed me walking behind, looked at me and said to me “Do we?”. I smiled trying to comprehend the conversation they were having.

  Faye must have asked Asha when they were on the shop floor about arranged marriages. What did Asha say? Would she encourage Faye to go out with me or just told her not to? I was not sure about that. Probably she told her not to? But she would not on my face. If Faye does not ask me, I find it difficult to explain to her. After all, I still do not know what made her sink in sorrow.

  Few days passed by and I noticed the absence of Sam. Had she left for good? Thank God, the miserable cow was not there anymore. I did not know what happened to her. I overheard once her saying to Faye in the canteen that I was rough. It was not me who was rough. It was this silly cow. I never saw her ever again.

  PART TWO

  A Reflexion

  Chapter One

  I went back to work a little bit saddened, I cannot change my past, my circumstances in life, where I was born, the poverty I was born into and grew up with. They were all set and have permanently scarred my life and deprived me of achieving my full poetical in life so far. That is very unfair. How many people are out there like me who want to do great things but simply robbed off their chances since their birth is faulty? My past is written on stones never to be changed, if I really could work hard then I can be myself and the world will know me as real me not what I am as today, nobody. It will take time. I will try. It is going to be very hard without any money, help, some fortune written in a will on the demise of someone close to me or any
worthy connections. I know I have none of these coming my way. We had lost connections with my mother’s parents who were rich enough to feed the whole village and owned two elephants, I have been so told. I have not even seen an elephant dung from them so far. I doubt I ever would.

  It is so unfair when your birth determines your future. I need to break away, break free from this vicious circle. And that has been the sole focus of my life so far and not to fall in love with a girl and have a file of kids whom I can’t afford to feed or provide a better education with. I don’t deny I had a fairly modest schooling. But what is the point if you are just taught, how to read, write, count and not how to live your life in this competitive world where everything is determined by or influenced by your material wealth. If you do not know how you are going to make a living when you are grown up at an early stage you are going to run in to a lot of trouble. With little knowledge you have about the world, worldly affairs, commerce and all, how are you supposed even to begin to think of the very fact?

  Most people in this world are incapable of seeing things, understanding or communicating in a way that matters. I excelled in things I did because I saw them in a different light but the people around me did not. They found me peculiar and sometimes laughed at me on my back. I often took it slow but sure. I often had the last laugh. And that experience was going to prevail in for the rest of my life.

  When I was a child I did not have many friends of my age. I grew up with adults and even though they were not role models for me, I did not find any of them that way, I was able to get on very well. They talked, laughed, killed the time, played games and sports. I enjoyed the company but did I want to be like them? No. They were just living their lives without high hopes or big ambitions or maybe I was not sure if they were aware of what was happening around the world, technology, education, commerce, enterprise and sports to mention a few. They were locked in the traditional thought and mentality. Just followers. I would have been one of them but thanks to a freak of nature I was born super ambitious. I liked things that were new, modern, hi tech and in fashion. I questioned everything we did, the ways we did things, religion, culture, traditions, beliefs and everything that make up a society. That attitude set me apart from them. I challenged the norm. I kept most things to myself as there was no point in sharing with people who were cast in a way of life that was so hard to change.