The Wish List of Albie Young (ARC)

by Ruby Hummingbird

  Was that true? What had driven Albie to be so generous? Had he always been that way or had something happened to make it so?

  ‘…so I hope you don’t mind my offering, but if it would suit you, I would dearly love to introduce you to a couple of people I know.’

  The other thoughts subsided as she waited for Keith to respond, concerned he might not react well.

  Keith handed her back the list and took a sip of coffee. ‘Well,’ he said, a slow, sly smile on his face, ‘I haven’t checked my diary but I don’t think I have any prior engagements booked in.’ He gave her another low chuckle that warmed her stomach. Finishing the coffee, he twisted the cup back on top of the thermos, offering her his hand as he stood. She took it, grateful for the help, as she made it to her feet.

  ‘Show me the way, Maria,’ he said, in a mock bow.

  Smiling, they set off, and for the first time since Albie had died she realised she didn’t feel quite so alone as she moved through the streets with someone else by her side.

  I was waiting for her at the school gates, watching the other children leave in clusters. Heads bent, swapping stickers, yo-yos out, high, excited squeals. Someone was doing hopscotch over the chalk squares and I was still watching them when she appeared in front of me, front tooth missing, enormous grin.

  Behind her stood a young, male teacher I had never met before.

  ‘This is Mr Mitchell,’ she’d announced, her small hand tugging the hem of my jacket.

  ‘Hello.’ I’d smiled, holding out a hand to him.

  Mr Mitchell took it, a bewildered expression on his face.

  I frowned at him. ‘Did you want to discuss something with me?’ I shifted my handbag up my shoulder, feeling overdressed in my trouser suit next to this perky PE teacher in a polo shirt, a whistle looped around his neck.

  ‘Oh, I…’ Mr Mitchell’s mouth opened a little wider and he looked down at my daughter as if she would provide the answer.

  She was grinning up at him, an eager expression on her face.

  ‘Mr Mitchell’s not married either, Mummy,’ she burst out.

  ‘Oh… I…’ Poor Mr Mitchell turned crimson, the blush spreading immediately up his neck.

  I stifled a horrified laugh and pressed my lips together. ‘How nice,’ I said.

  My daughter looked from me to Mr Mitchell and back again.

  ‘Well, I best be getting this one home,’ I said in a faux cheery voice. ‘Lovely to meet you, Mr Mitchell.’

  He started mumbling and pointing with his whistle.

  ‘I asked him,’ my daughter insisted as I pulled on her hand – she was not willing to go. ‘Mummy, you could marry him,’ she said, as she dug in her heels. She was surprisingly strong. ‘You’re hurting my arm.’

  ‘Sorry.’ I eased up, keen to get away before this got any worse. A bright idea struck me, ‘Let’s go and get a Slushie.’

  She left without a backwards glance.

  Thirteen

  It didn’t take long for them to reach her hairdresser’s and she was so grateful to Nina for quickly disguising her surprise with a beaming smile as she stepped forward.

  ‘Maria, how can we help?’

  ‘I was wondering,’ Maria asked, ‘whether you had a spare appointment?’

  Nina checked the diary by the till, ‘Mandy’s got a slot in fifteen minutes if you don’t mind waiting?’

  ‘It’s not for me actually,’ Maria said shyly, feeling a little silly.

  ‘It’s for this mop,’ Keith interrupted, saving her the explanation.

  Nina’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her thick brown fringe and then her expression settled. ‘Well, Mandy is quite the expert with mops,’ she said, causing Keith to let out one of his chuckles. ‘Take a seat. Can I get you both a drink? Tea, coffee, juice?’

  ‘No, that’s alright, love – Maria saw me right.’

  ‘A tea, if it’s not too much trouble,’ Maria said, moving to the squishy leather bench by the door.

  ‘Of course, and there are magazines for your perusal,’ Nina said.

  ‘Ah good!’ Keith brought his hands together. ‘I do like to keep up with my celebrity gossip.’

  Nina laughed as she turned. ‘I’ll go and tell Mandy she’s got you next.’

  Keith picked up one of the magazines on the table in front of them and did seem to enjoy looking at the glossy photographs, lingering in particular over the recipe pages at the back. Maria felt a flash of guilt. He must be starving, the way he was devouring that photograph of a mushroom risotto with his eyes. He looked up at her, a smile on his face.

  ‘Needs more Parmesan,’ he said, surprising her into silence, before returning the magazine to the pile.

  Maria could see why Albie had liked Keith – he had the same easy manner, the same desire to make light of things. She had always taken everything very seriously and was grateful to be around someone who seemed able to laugh at it all. That was what Albie had done every Thursday, taught her that the world didn’t have to be as serious as it seemed in her mind. But then Albie didn’t carry around the same burden she had lived with. A gloom descended over her and she was relieved to see Mandy standing before them.

  ‘Maria, how lovely! I hear you have brought someone with you?’

  Keith stood up, his hands behind his back, as Mandy appeared to be inspecting him, a long look from his feet to his face.

  ‘Well, you’re a bit of a state,’ she announced finally, her nose crinkling, one long pink talon tapping her teeth.

  Maria sucked in her breath but fortunately, Keith burst out his bark of laughter. ‘I was going for a devil-may-care vibe,’ he said, removing his cap and holding it in his hands.

  ‘Well, it is certainly something. Shall we go and fix it?’ she said, holding out a black gown that Keith attempted to wear as a coat. ‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ Mandy tutted, removing it. ‘I see I’ll have to do everything.’ She fussed around him, forcing his arms in and standing on tiptoes, tying a bow at his neck.

  Keith followed Mandy in like an obedient child as she sashayed into the salon and deposited him in front of a large mirror.

  ‘I’ll wait here,’ Maria called.

  ‘Don’t be silly, this was your great plan, get in here!’ said Keith.

  Mandy drew up a black stool and beckoned to Maria. ‘Come and see me work my magic on someone else. It’s good to see you again, Maria,’ she said and her magenta lips flashed her a smile.

  ‘It is, I’m…’ Maria took a breath, ashamed to remember how she had behaved on her last visit. ‘I’m sorry about before, I was… a bit…’

  ‘You weren’t yourself,’ Mandy replied in a firm voice. ‘Everyone’s allowed a shitty day and I’ve had a decade of you being wonderful so please don’t say another word or I’ll hit you with my paddle brush.’

  Wonderful, Maria reflected, feeling her body glow with the compliment. Keith didn’t say a word, just looked between the two women, most likely wondering what on earth was going on.

  Nina returned with a teacup. ‘Thank you,’ Maria said in a grateful voice.

  ‘Nice to see you,’ Nina replied before slinking away.

  Maria settled on the stool with her tea, noticing a woman with a blonde beehive and a fake tanned face glancing across at them. Normally, Maria would have worried what she thought but now she rolled her shoulders back, proud to be seen with Keith, feeling Albie standing at her side.

  ‘So!’ Mandy said, talking to Keith in the mirror as she picked up strands of his hair, ‘We’ll get you shampooed and you can have our new conditioning treatment, which should do wonders. You’ve got a lovely colour hair, you know – they’ll be no need to use any dye.’

  ‘Steady on,’ Keith said, two hands placed over his head, ‘just a haircut, woman! I’m not here to have my hair turned black, I’m quite happy with my greys – says I’ve lived.’

  Mandy smirked at him. ‘As you say, sir. Now, follow me, you can tell me all about it.’ She led him off to the row of basins, wh
ere Maria could hear them chatting, the conversation punctuated by Keith’s low chuckle. Maria reflected that she didn’t think she’d seen Mandy smile that widely in all her visits to the salon.

  It was a lovely hour, the salon warm, Mandy and Nina exchanging banter with Keith, other customers chiming in, the low sound of the radio in the background, a lady opposite in rollers reading a magazine, a gentleman getting a trim next door. Maria felt cocooned in the safety of others busy and bustling around her and lost herself in the moment. It was a second before she realised Mandy was calling her name.

  ‘You ready for the big unveiling?’ she asked.

  She had placed a tea towel on Keith’s head and he looked like a rather stroppy shepherd. ‘Is this quite necessary?’ he asked, but he couldn’t stop the smile twitching on his face.

  ‘We’re going for drama, Keith,’ Mandy insisted, picking up two combs and beating with a makeshift drumroll on the back of his aluminium chair. ‘Ready? I give you your brand-new look!’ she announced as she whipped the tea towel from his head.

  Maria couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth.

  Keith was completely transformed. Gone was the long brown hair replaced by a slick, modern look: short sides, a fuller fringe, soft grey at the temples. The hairstyle was perfect, his face brought into sharp focus, the stubble on his cheeks now there by design.

  ‘You did look like Leonardo DiCaprio in that film where he gets eaten by a wolf, but now you’re Leo in The Wolf of Wall Street.’

  ‘And that’s good, is it?’ Keith asked with a laugh, turning his head to the side and checking out the back.

  ‘Very good, you’re a darker, swarthier version of him with even better hair,’ Mandy said, standing back, her pink taloned fingers placed on her hips.

  ‘Alright, don’t get yourself carried away!’

  Mandy hit him on the shoulder with her comb as Keith twisted left and right once more, taking in his reflection.

  ‘You’ve certainly done a good job,’ he admitted, spinning round to look at Maria. ‘What do you think?’

  Maria found herself nodding enthusiastically. ‘You look, you look brilliant,’ she said, surprising herself with the confidence in her voice: look at you, Maria, appraising men’s hairstyles!

  ‘Albie would have liked it, you think?’ he asked, turning his head from side to side.

  ‘Albert? You mean Maria’s mysterious gentlemen friend,’ Mandy cooed, an elbow in Maria’s side.

  Both their faces must have betrayed them as, after a loaded pause, Mandy’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Has something happened?’ she asked.

  Maria nodded slowly, as Keith confirmed, ‘Albie died,’ in a gruff voice, saving Maria the pain of repeating it.

  Mandy’s hand fell, her mouth hanging open in a horrified circle. ‘Oh, you poor, poor thing!’ she said, immediately enfolding Maria in a hug, her enormous bosom crushing into her back. She smelt of cigarettes and coffee and hairspray, but Maria was grateful for the warm reaction, for the arms encircling her. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged her like that, and she wanted to cling on.

  ‘Oh, I’m really sorry, Maria, I know he was a special man.’

  ‘Thank you, he was,’ she said, giving Mandy an awkward pat.

  ‘Well, I’m always here if you want to talk,’ Mandy replied, drawing back. ‘You’re not any old customer, Maria, you know, we’ve been worried about you these past couple of weeks.’

  ‘You’re kind,’ Maria said, her toes curling with embarrassment. She hadn’t realised anyone would notice that she hadn’t been herself – she’d always felt invisible.

  ‘Nonsense! You’ve always been a brilliant listener, always asking, caring. Someone needs to take care of you for once.’

  ‘Hear, hear, and I’ve only known you two minutes!’ Keith grinned.

  ‘Sounds like this Albie’s brought you two into each other’s lives,’ Mandy said, glancing at them both in the mirror. ‘That should be a bit of a comfort, I expect.’

  The idea gave Maria a jolt: the thought that without Albie’s death she might never have met Keith, that things were happening to her – good things – because he had died. It was hard to get her head around.

  ‘Not sure Albie would have seen it like that, he wasn’t one for signs or the such-like,’ Keith added. ‘I remember one time, it was absolutely chucking it down and Albie took me for a pub lunch. Well, we were a few ales down and Albie’s eyes had started crossing and I’d told him that the universe had brought us together, the rain forcing us inside, or some kind of hocus pocus and he’d roared with laughter – he had this big rumbling laugh – and he just told me that he was pretty sure God wouldn’t have wanted us to go into a pub with sticky tables and a broken toilet.’

  Maria felt her face split into a wide smile. That sounded just like Albie. How lovely to hear more stories about him, how she craved them now he was gone.

  ‘God, he could be funny,’ Keith said, wiping his eyes. ‘He was a pretty special man.’ A cough then to disguise the catch in his voice.

  ‘Very,’ Maria agreed.

  ‘Can’t believe he’s gone,’ Keith said quietly, his new short hair making him look more boyish, vulnerable, as he met Maria’s eyes.

  ‘Me either.’ She stood slowly from her seat, ‘I think I better go and pay before you set me off.’

  Keith nodded, perhaps relieved when Mandy ruffled his hair and commented, ‘I’ll just use some product, it’s got sea salt in it…’

  Maria headed to the till, leaving the two of them pretending to be reading the price list as she heard them laugh and tease, needing a moment with just her thoughts. It had been a strange day, telling people about Albie, realising that she had been carrying around the knowledge on her own, relieved to have said it aloud, shared it.

  Mandy gave a throaty laugh and Maria glanced back over to them, wondering if talking to people in the mirror made it easier for her, a sort of version of avoiding eye contact, the protection of a mirror and her role as a professional helping her to open up. Or whether Mandy just found it easier to make connections. Maria marvelled at it, Albie had had that skill in spades.

  ‘Come on, Keith,’ she called, trying to be that person for a moment, testing it out on herself, ‘I want to show you off.’

  She paid, realising this was the first money she’d used that was Albie’s, and felt a flush of pleasure. It did feel good to help people out in these small ways. She wanted to ride the wave and she found herself fussing over Keith in the street, trying to persuade him into a shopping trip. He relented outside a charity shop around the corner and found a T-shirt, a jumper and a suede duffel coat with a fake fur lining, padded for warmth. He left with a carrier bag of his old clothes and she insisted on adding it to her launderette pile on Wednesday.

  ‘I’ll get them back to you,’ she said, trying not to turn her nose up at the sad state of the clothes inside. ‘And now you look so smart, how about we grab a bite?’

  Keith held both his hands up. ‘As long as you promise nothing too fancy, no Michelin stars… You millionaires… Can’t be trusted, you know.’

  She could tell from the lightness in his voice that he was enjoying his day, both of them doing something for the man they had loved and admired.

  ‘Jacket potato and cheese?’ Maria said, knowing exactly where to take him.

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘I know just the place.’

  * * *

  The café was empty, an elderly couple just putting on their coats to leave. Pauline was wiping at the tables and glanced up as Maria pushed inside, her shoulders back as she introduced Keith.

  ‘Table for two!’ Maria couldn’t keep the hint of joy from her voice – it seemed wrong to sit alone in this café where she had spent so many happy afternoons.

  She could tell that Pauline was itching to find out who this man, this good-looking, younger man by at least twenty years, was, meeting her eye as she fetched her pad and pencil, a waggle of her eyebro
ws as she headed over to their table. What did she think? That Maria had a toy boy? What did they call women with younger men? Some kind of jungle cat? A cheetah! Ha, that was her! Maria felt herself bubble with a delighted giggle at the preposterous prospect.

  ‘Pauline, this is Keith, a new friend. We both knew Albie.’

  ‘Knew?’

  It was then that she realised she would have to tell the third person that day. She lifted her chin, took a slow breath.

  ‘He died… Albie died. Two weeks ago. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before, I just… well, I didn’t know how.’

  Pauline blinked, wiped at her fringe, ash blonde tendrils sticking to her temples from the steam of the kitchen. ‘Oh… Oh, how sad. I was worried. We did comment, seeing you of course – he never even liked to keep you waiting…’

  Maria nodded sadly. How true that was: Albie, forever the gentleman, horrified if he was more than a minute late.

  ‘…He was such a wonderful man.’

  ‘He was,’ she agreed in a quiet voice.

  ‘He always asked after my grandchildren, my health, all of that. Always listened to the answers, remembered the details. Not a lot of people do that, you know?’

  Maria nodded, her good mood ebbing away with the reminder of what they had all lost.

  Pauline couldn’t seem to stop, clearly needing to remember more: ‘There was one time I’d got a hacking cough, one of those stubborn ones you can’t shift, and he’d appeared the next day with a cough syrup, just placed it on the counter with no comment. It was so thoughtful.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘What a shame, a real shame! Sorry, look at me goin’ on. You sit down and welcome, Keith, a pleasure to meet you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Keith placed a gentle hand on Maria’s shoulder and steered her to a table. She was grateful that he was taking control, floored for a moment by another memory of Albie, ‘He’d be so pleased you sorted me out, Maria. He was always on at me and look at me now.’