by J C Williams
“That’s an unusual way to clean your windows!” said a gentle voice behind him.
It sounded like Emma, so Jack continued to remove errant flakes of paint.
“So much for the gym!” said Jack. “I’ve just soiled myself and had to wipe my ass on a sock! I think I’m also going to have a restraining order taken out on me.”
There was no response, so Jack arched his neck. “You’re not Emma?”
“No… I’m not. But, when I see her, I’ll be sure to tell her about the sock.”
He blushed as he turned. “I’m Jack. I own this fine establishment.” He went to shake her hand, but as he did, several lumps of chewing gum fell from his grasp. The girl took a step back, smiling awkwardly.
He became very aware that he was stood with one bare foot, holding his trainer in his left hand. “This looks a bit odd,” he said. “I don’t usually stand in the street with one shoe on, but my sock was…”
“Yes, I got that… at the gym.”
“I’m not, you know, crazy or anything. I’ve just joined the gym and I had scrambled eggs. Don’t do that by the way, or if you do, make sure they have toilet roll.”
“Can I just start this conversation again?” asked Jack.
“Yes! Yes, we should!” was the immediate response.
“Well, you know me! And judging by the coffee cup you’re holding, you’ve also met Emma who I work with?”
“Yes. Good coffee by the way! I’m Hayley, Hayley Scott. I’m your new neighbour.”
She was lovely, and Jack was struggling to string a sentence together as he stared into her huge blue eyes.
“Great! So you’ve got the shop next door. What do you do?”
Hayley pointed proudly to the vibrant red rose on her immaculate white blouse and then to the sign above the newly painted shop front. “I’m a florist.”
“The Enchanted Florist. That’s a great name!” said Jack.
The sign was commanding, with gold lettering on a white background. A yellow rose formed the ‘I’ in the word florist.
“Anyway… I should really get on. Busy day!” said Hayley, with a feigned enthusiasm.
“Of course,” replied Jack. “We’re captains of industry.” Jack half closed his eyes and he could hear the inner voice, will you just shut up, you fool.
Jack shuffled into the shop and collapsed into a chair nearest to the door.
“You met Hayley?” shouted Emma.
“Yep!” conceded Jack.
“You made a tit out of yourself, didn’t you?”
“I did, yes. A full-on forty-four DD-sized tit. The kind of tit you see that hangs down by your belt. I don’t get it, I used to be okay with the women.”
“It can’t have been that bad, you were only talking to her for a couple of minutes.”
He sunk his head further into his hands and groaned. “I threw fossilised chewing gum, and I told her I’d just made a mess in my pants. As introductions go, it probably wasn’t the best.”
“Memorable, though?” laughed Emma. “She was certainly pretty.”
“She was lovely,” sighed Jack. “She’s a florist.”
“Your mum phoned for you. You need to call her back. She sounded very cross with you.”
He paused for a moment and as he hadn’t spoken to her for a week, he mused how he could possibly have irritated her.
Emma could see the vacant expression. “Something about your grandad being arrested.”
“What! You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m just telling you what she said. Oh, she said something about Randy Sandy, and then screamed something about why didn’t you stop him.”
“Oh, shit!” said Jack, who was now pacing back and forth.
“Who is Sandy?” asked Emma.
“She’s the local bike. Generous with her affections, for the right price.”
“She’s a prostitute?”
“She was… but there are not many willing to pay, these days.”
“You let your grandad go with a prostitute? No wonder your mum is upset with you.”
“He was in the army, he’s not bloody stupid. I better go and get Grandad out of jail — and there’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d ever utter. Are you okay here?”
“I think we’ll be okay,” replied Emma, gesturing to the empty seats. “And stay away from Sandy!”
Jack pushed the Vespa onto its centre stand and removed his helmet. He caught sight of his mother and raised a hand in acknowledgement. She was petite but well-built, and her white dental nurse uniform made her look like an evil assistant in an early Bond film.
“Your bloody grandad has been arrested,” she said, marching purposefully towards him. “We’ll never live this down!” she continued, covering her face with her hands. “Why did you not stop him?”
She continued with her tirade, and although it was serious, Jack couldn’t help but smile at the situation.
“What are you bloody smiling at?” she said, through pursed lips, shouting, but at the same time, trying to whisper. Jack loved his mother and knew exactly what buttons to push to wind her up. Smiling when she was angry was one of them.
“He’s your father, so how is this possibly my fault?” protested Jack.
“You’re thick as thieves, you two. You must have known what he was doing. The mucky old sod!”
Jack walked away. It wasn’t that he was ignoring her, but he couldn’t stifle his smile and was concerned his mum was about to erupt. He walked into the reception area and was greeted by a surly female receptionist sat behind a security screen. She didn’t speak, but pressed a button on her side of the screen which made a concealed speaker start to crackle.
“I’m here to see my grandad. I believe you may be holding him.”
“What name?”
“Geoffrey Smith,” whispered Jack.
She skimmed through the papers on her desk and paused. “Eighty years old! That’s got to be a record,” she said, with a wry smile.
“Yes, we’re all very proud of him,” replied Jack.
“I’ll phone the arresting officer for you. Take a seat, over there.”
“Oh,” she said, pushing herself closer towards the screen. “Is that, her?” she said, looking Jack’s mother up and down.
“Who?” asked Jack.
She looked back at her notes for a moment. “Her in the nurse’s outfit. Is that Sandy?”
Jack turned and shook his head for a moment. “Yes!” he whispered. “That’s her, apparently. It’s medical day today.”
Jack’s mother was smiling nervously as the receptionist gave her a look of contempt and pointed her out to a colleague.
A steady stream of people passed through the reception area. There were the remorseful, perhaps too much to drink the night before, and the aggressive arrogant type, who didn’t appear fazed. There were those emaciated by years of substance abuse. The atmosphere was intimidating, and Jack could understand the receptionist being aloof. It would take a resolute personality to make sense of the chaos that would unfurl each day. Jack became more solemn as he thought of his grandad locked up.
A cheery-looking policeman appeared from behind the reception desk. “You’re here for Geoffrey?” he said to Jack. “Please, come with me.”
Jack’s mum was outside having a cigarette, and in the circumstances, he felt it was best dealt with ‘man-to-man.’ He was led to a small room where he was relieved to see his grandad, sitting, holding a cup of tea. He looked dejected. “You okay, Grandad?”
“He’s been telling us about his army career,” said the constable. “Your grandad is a real character.”
“Is he in any trouble?” asked Jack.
“No, he should be okay. It’s up to my gaffer, but I think a friendly warning is all that’s required. To be honest, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. We’ve had a few complaints from neighbours, and it was only his bad luck he was there when we called ’round. We had to be seen to be doing somet
hing. Your grandad told us that he only bought her some shopping and that nothing had happened. The lady confirmed this as well.”
“Can I take him home?”
“Yes. I’ll escort — excuse the pun — you out. We’ll be in touch if there is any further action, but it should be fine. Geoffrey, it’s been a real pleasure to meet you.”
Geoffrey nodded and walked into the corridor. As Jack went to follow, the officer placed a hand on his shoulder: “You need to keep an eye on your grandad. He’s a lovely old boy, but he’s lonely. This Sandy one has been keeping him company, but the next one could take more than a few days’ worth of shopping off him. He was in tears before and I tried to tell him it would be okay. I think he is just a bit ashamed as well. If you need anything or think anyone is taking advantage of him, give me a call.”
Jack was grateful, and shook the policeman’s hand and then walked his grandad through to the main reception area. Jack’s mother was furious, but could see the ashen expression on her father’s face. Rather than issuing a reprimand, she warmly embraced him. “You silly old bugger,” she said softly. “Let’s get you home.”
“Lunch must have been busy?” asked Jack, admiring the banknotes in the usually sparse-looking till. “Sorry to leave you on your own.”
“It’s fine. Did the vice squad lock him up?” asked Emma.
Jack shook his head. “No, just a verbal warning with no further action. He looked really sad Emma. I’ve never seen him like that. The policeman said he was in tears. I know he misses Gran, but I don’t think we appreciated just how much.”
“They were together for a long time, Jack.”
“I know, but you just assume that time is a great healer, ‘stiff upper lip’ and all that.”
Emma moved closer and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Maybe he’s just really lonely and Sandy would listen to him — albeit for a price.”
“That’s what the policeman said. He needs to make some friends, but it must be difficult at that age.”
“We should do something in here, Jack, a social club for the elderly. It’d help the older people and bring new customers in.”
Jack looked underwhelmed. “I don’t want them in here, stinking of piss. They’d put the regulars off.”
“What regulars?” laughed Emma. “The only regulars we have are the older ones.”
“We get the office trade as well!”
“No, Jack, you said it yourself, most of the younger crowd go to the branded shops — corporate shysters, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe, but the ‘blue-rinse brigade’ nursing a cup of tea for three hours isn’t going to fill the till!”
The impromptu business development meeting was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. Jack responded by sucking his stomach in and arching his back. “Hayley!” he said enthusiastically. “Great to see you again, what can I get you?”
“Hi guys, sorry to bother you, but do you know what day the bin men come?”
“Tuesday,” said Jack. “Usually about seven a.m.”
“Thanks. The coffee was great, by the way.” Hayley presented Emma with a vibrant bunch of red roses displayed in an opaque crystal vase. “These are for you. Well, for the shop, I mean. I could do with the vase back when you’re done?”
“They’re beautiful,” said Emma, placing them on a shelf near to the counter. “It should be us buying you flowers to welcome you to the neighbourhood.”
“You’re welcome. And sorry to interrupt you both.”
“You’re not interrupting,” said Emma. “We’re just wondering how to get people through the door. Short of dragging them in! We were thinking about a social, possibly dating club, for the elderly.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, guys, it really is. My grandmother would love to come. She’s a real chatterbox, you’d never get rid of her. Not enough people do things for the elderly and I think it’d be a huge success. You’d be welcome to put a poster up in my shop, if you like?”
“That’s right,” said Jack confidently. “I was just saying to Emma, in fact, that we needed to put something back into the community, help the vulnerable and the frail.”
Emma was about to twist the knife, but she figured he deserved a break and judging by the vein trembling in his neck, he clearly liked Hayley.
“That’s really sweet, Jack. I’d be happy to help out as well,” replied Hayley.
“Oh, he’s a real pillar of the community. Once you get over the daft persona, he’s actually not too bad,” said Emma.
Jack’s stomach expanded to normal size as the door closed. “Thanks, Emma, I owe you. Aww, but I’m going to have to do something about it now.”
“What’s the worst that can happen, Jack? We get a few more customers through the door and it’s not going to cost you any money to do. Besides, it will make Hayley think you’re… well, less of a tool.”
Emma stood in the middle of the floor and slowly looked around. “Let’s do this, Jack. We’re going to set up the Island’s first social and dating club for the elderly.”
“Dating as well? I’ll need to stock up on the blue pills. What are we going to call this club?”
She paused for a moment. “We, Jack, we are going to open The Lonely Heart Club.”
Jack was unimpressed. “For the crowd you’re looking at, you should call it The Lonely Heart Attack Club!”
Emma smiled, for which she was immediately guilty. “This, Jack, is going to bring customers into your business and keep me in a job that I’m still not actually sure I want.”
“Come here,” said Jack, taking Emma in a friendly embrace. “It’s a wonderful idea and a wonderful name. You’re the best friend and employee I could ever wish for. Also, if this gets me laid with Hayley, then even better.”
.
Chapter Three
I t was early and the phone had already rung incessantly for over an hour. The answering machine had reached its capacity, and emitted a piercing tone that reverberated throughout the small two-bedroomed flat. Cellophane-wrapped brochures and envelopes emblazoned with bright red lettering all but covered the carpet in the entrance hall and extended further into the living area. A large wooden oak sideboard was almost obscured by pile after pile of unopened correspondence and the drawers spilt the excess onto the carpet. A small white cocker spaniel barely lifted his head as the morning post increased the escalating pile further.
Derek would normally be dressed by this time, but today had been an effort and he sat in his grey flannel pyjamas. He loved to sit in his cream leather reclining chair and look at the distant marina on one side and the sprawling Isle of Man hills on the other. He’d been in the flat for sixty-five years and he often joked with his neighbour, Anne, that he was still looking for something bigger to move into. The flat was near the town centre and a short walk to the shops and his local pub where he would venture for two pints of bitter on a Friday night. He eased his feet into his blue slippers and glanced with trepidation in the direction of the front door. He pushed himself from the chair and pulled a biscuit from his pocket, which he held in his left hand. Charlie immediately leapt up, and gratefully accepted the treat. “Good boy, Charlie,” he said affectionately. He carefully shuffled to the door, taking care to avoid the sporadic envelopes which were slippery if stood on. As he moved through the hall, making his way to the door, he gave a frustrated groan as he straightened a fallen photo frame which had succumbed to the mound of paper; he smiled at the picture of his beloved Helen. He held onto the table in the vestibule to steady himself and stooped to collect the discarded post. Without review, he brought them into the kitchen and placed them onto a further increasing pile. The white box containing the sumptuous chocolate cake with one candle sat on the kitchen table, minus one small piece, which he’d indulged in the previous evening. How he longed to share the cake with his two grandchildren. However, his cherished memories were soon interrupted by the phone.
The flat was immaculate apart from the mail. He put his breakfa
st dishes carefully back in the oak welsh dresser and neatly folded the tea towel. He moved the cake so that the tabletop was now empty, and took a seat. He reached for the white envelope in his pocket and as he removed it, several more biscuits fell to the floor, gratefully received by Charlie. He placed it in the centre of the table and glanced at the clock. It didn’t feel correct to not be dressed at this time. He closed the door on Charlie and left him in the kitchen, as he often did during his visits to the shop. He carefully took the small ladders that were only three rungs tall, but sufficient to allow him access to remove the hatch to the loft. To avoid slipping, he ascended barefoot. He took a narrow pole with a hook in the end and pulled down the loft hatch, revealing a set of extendable ladders and a further hoard of discarded letters. He’d installed a handrail inside the loft hatch to aide access, but it’d been a long time since he had the mobility to fully access the space. Now, it was simply used as an overflow.
Derek took the cord from his dressing gown and placed it neatly through the handrail, so that it formed a loop. He was a master of knots from his time in the merchant navy, and he’d soon formed a perfect circle which felt strong enough to carry his weight. He took the bottom of the circle and twisted it once. He looked at the picture of Helen on the hall table, and took the newly created, smaller loop and placed it around his neck. He could hear Charlie bark in the kitchen as he shuffled towards the end of the steps, which he began to rock slowly back and forth. He thought of happier times and had a wry smile as the letterbox opened once again. He thought his final sight would be the thing that had driven him to his current position.
“Derek. Derek, luv, are you there? I’ve been knocking but there was no answer. Derek, it’s Emma from the coffee shop.”
Derek was startled, and instantly stood upright in order to relieve any pressure on his neck, throwing the cord out of sight into the recess of the loft.
“Derek. Derek, can you hear me? I missed you this morning. I had your tea ready for you.”
He moved towards the door. “Yes… I’m here.” He slowly opened the door, taking care to move the visible post from view. He stood in the partially opened door frame, greeted by Emma and her infectious smile.
