Dazed and Confused
Oxford, 1972, October
The car's gentle hum soothed Remus, as the Cortina sped down the country roads. Matron had been driving for five hours; she had insisted on driving Remus, though it was much to Remus' dismay, considering that all the other kids at the home accused Matron of favouring her over the rest.
♫Been dazed and confused for so long, it's not true
When did a woman ever bargain for you?♫
Robert Plant’s throaty voice mixed with the soothing hum of the car, whilst Remus noticed Matron gently humming along to the song on the radio.
“You like Led Zeppelin?” Remus asked, surprised that matron, who seemed so uptight and traditional (which anyone would assume from her near nun-like clothes), would listen to such experimental (not to mention, vulgar) rock.
Matron, upon being asked this by Remus, clutched her thin silver chain around her neck in offence. “I may be a woman of the book, Remus, but that doesn’t mean that I reject modernity. Besides, the spiritual themes in their music mean that their music is basically a form of worship,”
Remus couldn’t do more than let out a chuckle, she had always been more like matron than she’d have liked to admit. Upon passing a sign that they were 5 miles away from the next service station, and that they were approaching Reading, matron insisted that she needed rest, and tea. Remus, both dreading and desperate to move into her accommodation, didn’t protest- besides, she was dying for a cigarette.
The car screeched as it pulled into the car park, and the two walked up to the station. Matron told Remus that she would find the nearest toilet, and that she would return shortly. Letting out a sigh of relief, Remus started groping her pockets to find her lighter, and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds. Leaning against the wall, Remus fingered a cigarette out of the box, and lit the end. Just as she inhaled, she heard a hoarse, gruff voice- Remus half expected it to be coming from a homeless man asking her for change.
“Got a lighter?”
Remus looked up, and was faced with a dark-haired girl. She had sharp features, vampiric almost, and a wolf cut that framed her pretty face in a way that made Remus’ heart flutter. Though it seemed vulgar, Remus couldn’t help but look down and scan the rest of the girl. A far too large leather jacket was draped over her shoulders, and covered the most of her dark red top she was wearing. She wore doc martens, which peeked out from under her black, flared jeans. She looked vaguely like Jimmy Page, if he was a girl and hot.
“Hello?” the girl asked, and Remus snapped back into reality, realising she hadn’t replied.
“Yes, of course, sorry”, Remus babbled.
Expecting the girl to light the cigarette herself, Remus held her hand holding the lighter out, only to be met with the girl leaning in, a cigarette between her teeth.
Bold, Remus thought.
Hands sweating, Remus cupped one hand around the girl’s mouth and leant in and lit her cigarette. Remus’ eyes flickered up, and were met by the girl’s stare burning through her, and Remus, again, was agog by her dark, alluring eyes. The girl leant away.
“Thank you so much”, she whispered huskily, before turning away and greeting a man slightly taller than her.
Great, Remus thought. Of course she has a boyfriend.
The mystery girl walked away with him, as Remus finished off her cigarette, now with a dampened spirit. Matron came back outside, handing Remus a takeaway cup.
“No milk and one sugar, just how you like it” she said, and winked before they returned to the car.
Clutching the cup for warmth. Remus sat as if she had been electrocuted, tense with perfect posture. It seemed that with each metre, anxiety twisted Remus’ stomach into a more complicated knot, and she ground her teeth together in between sips. Trying to distract herself from the knowledge that everything she had ever known was going to be stripped away in around twenty minutes, Remus’ mind fixed back on the mysterious girl. She couldn’t have been older than 19, Remus thought, though the girl had the voice of a sixty-five year old man who chain smoked multiple packs a day (with a girlish twist, obviously). It was kind of hot. Remus knew the girl was considerably shorter than her, but she was slouched against the wall in such a way that she couldn’t really compare their heights. Who was she? Was she local? Did her boyfriend treat her right? Does she even like him? How did he rope in such a magnetic girl?
♫Come on, come on, come on, come on now touch me babe
Can’t you see that I am not afraid ♫
The radio flitted between bands and rockstars, twisting and pitching and plummeting their voices, but all Remus could hear was a hoarse “got a lighter?” echoing around her skull.