Cherry Picking

by Tim Heath

  The car pulled away slowly, Tommy starting to feel butterflies in his stomach for the first time in ages. How good it would be to see her again but how sad it was also that there had been all that bad history since their last meeting. He put those thoughts far from his mind, tonight was not the night for such thinking. Soon they’d have to talk about it, he was sure, but tonight was about falling in love again, which Tommy knew wouldn’t be hard, as deep down he’d never actually fallen out of love in the first place. Tonight was their new start, the beginning of life again as he would know it. He’d been given this second chance and now he was not going to mess things up. He had a job he loved, money was not an object and finally he could have the one thing he wanted above all others, a loving relationship and this with the one person with whom it was possible — Miss Jessica Ponter. Tommy just sat back and enjoyed the journey. Each corner and twist in the road his adrenaline grew, every time the car slowed his heart raced at the thought that they were there, before the car picked up speed again and he realised there was a little way still to go. His pulse was racing, tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He laughed at himself.

  “Tommy, you old fool. You’re the wrong side of thirty and your as nervous as a school boy on his first date!”

  **********

  Robert Sandle had been walking around the little village for about thirty minutes, enjoying the fact he could fill his lungs with clean, country air, as well as enjoying the quietness. He’d gone into the village store and spoken with Norman that morning and they’d arranged to have a drink at the local pub later on that day after Norman had finished up at the shop. Norman had said how a few customers had spotted things in the paper about Robert but nothing much was said. Norman, off his own bat, had pointed out at the time that on the day of and before and after the bombing, Robert had been in the village and that he therefore couldn’t have been there or responsible in any way for it. The villagers kept themselves to themselves anyway. If Norman was happy with the outsider, as Robert was still considered, then they were also happy. What went on in London might as well be happening in another country. London cared very little for them and so they cared very little in return.

  Robert had felt great peace at this form of acceptance, though he knew favour was only a momentary thing and that he could just as soon be unwelcome if he was to put a foot out of line.

  Robert had been to the pub on a few previous visits, though not since his latest arrival. He assumed that his absence would be a cause for complaint by the publican. Robert was unsure how he could make much of a living from such a small farming community.

  As Robert walked into the small front area to the pub that night, there were quite a few people dotted around the place and the noise coming from the back told him there were also others that he couldn’t see. The regulars had all noticed his arrival, though it wasn’t quite the place that went silent at the sight of a stranger, not that he really counted as a total stranger any more anyway. Robert glanced around but couldn’t see Norman anywhere. Assuming that he must still be closing up the store, he went and sat at one of the empty stools at the bar.

  To his surprise the landlord was in quite jovial spirits and came over smiling when he asked him what he could get him. Robert ordered a beer and he was part way through it when Norman walked slowly through the door. Several of the drinkers raised a hand from a distance to greet him and Norman acknowledged them with a slight nod of the head. He came to rest next to Robert, who helped him onto the stool.

  The landlord came over with a drink for Norman; typically he knew what most of his customers drank in the small village. Robert pulled out a note and paid for it. Norman was thankful but knew he’d have to return the favour which would probably cost him more money, which he just didn’t have. He didn’t let the thought take root though and gladly took a sip of the drink, after what had been another long day.

  They sat there in relative silence for a couple of minutes, each man just taking irregular sips of their drinks while looking at nothing in particular. For Robert, not really understanding the old guy sitting next to him, it became an awkward silence and not being able to bear it any longer, he broke the quiet first.

  “So business has been slow then?”

  “Yep.”

  “Do you get much outside trade nowadays?”

  “Nope, not really.”

  Norman took another sip of his drink. It was becoming painful and Robert felt most uncomfortable. He sat there and thought about things for a minute. He figured the guy spent most of his life on his own. He worked in the shop by himself and lived alone so simply sitting in the pub among other people, with conversations going on around him must be a nice change in itself. Robert realised he probably gained some enjoyment out of just being there, as if he was part of every conversation, part of their lives. Clearly he was highly regarded. This realisation helped Robert endure the next hour a lot better but he was also helped by the landlord, who regularly came back for further drink orders, something Robert sorted out each time, much to the joy of old Norman. The drinks were helping Robert a lot as well and the landlord would stop and chat more and more until he was needed by another customer and off he went again.

  It was getting late, though the place showed no signs of winding up for the night. In the far corner a small TV played the last few minutes of some game that was on and quite a few of the men were sitting in an arc around it, shouts of joy and frustration regularly rising up but they were civil enough. There were a few woman around too, mainly older ladies, three of them now grouped together talking while their husbands watched the game. On the far side a younger woman sat on her own, though the chair at her table had a coat on the back indicating that one of the crowd of men had probably been with her. She sat quietly drinking, having herself been watching Robert all night, quite taken by him. Robert had noticed her earlier in the night and thought she was an attractive woman but now he was lost to most things, slurring his words slightly as he hunched over his drink and talked openly to Norman, not particularly caring if the old guy was even paying attention.

  “You see, Norman, I know really how you feel, you know.” He paused, focusing more now on each new phrase to come out of his mouth. He knew he’d had too much to drink but it had been quite a month, quite a week and he was glad to have some company.

  “You see, I’ve been alone all my life.” Somehow he’d managed to really stress the word ‘alone’ and Norman turned his head a little more towards him as if to tell Robert he was listening, not that Robert now needed any encouragement as he ploughed on.

  “I’ve always been alone. Even since birth. I don’t even know my parents! You see some scum bag of a human being, if you can call them that, took my parents’ life when I was only a baby. So I grew up in what was called ‘care’ though really it was ‘lack-of-care’ as they did nothing for me.” He paused to take a sip but realised it was finished. He knew enough to refuse a top up and pushed his glass away from him as the landlord attempted to pour yet another whisky.

  “I don’t know what it is to not be alone, you know?” He almost smiled at his own statement, as if totally lost in this drink-induced nonsense that he was now speaking.

  “It’s the job, you see. It pushes everyone away from me. You know I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be with a woman, Norman? Oh, I bet you have too?” He was unaware that he was speaking a little too loudly now and a few people turned their heads slightly but this didn’t stop him. Norman just sat there, listening but not reacting. He finished up his drink and started to get up.

  “No, don’t go Norman, I’m sorry.” Robert was now starting to sound quite pathetic. Speaking for the first time in ages due to Robert’s over-active tongue, Norman simply said:

  “It’s late and I have work to do early tomorrow morning. Good night, sir and thank you for the drink and…conversation.”

  He turned, struggled to pull on his coat and was off and out into the night. Robert sat there and asked for ano
ther drink which the landlord was only too keen to help with. Robert had earlier thrown him his money to pay for the drinks and it was far more than it should cost but then he wasn’t going to tell Robert that, he was just glad for a good night’s takings and he’d found the extra company a relief.

  So now Robert was again on his own. Loneliness it seemed was his ironic lifelong companion but he knew nothing else. He had yet another sip and looked up as a roar went up from the group around the television, men smiling and hugging one another. It looked fun from a distance but it wasn’t Robert’s thing. Maybe deep down he was just a loner? Maybe he pushed others away, making himself alone?

  He noticed that the table where the attractive brunette had been earlier was now empty but the coat was still there on the back of the other chair, presumably the guy was still watching the game. Robert felt quite low again now, but with all the drink in him it was hard to tell what was him and what was the alcohol speaking. And besides, he suddenly really needed the gents so got up and made his way around the side of the bar and down a narrow corridor, turning at the end to the left where the two small toilets stood opposite each other, tightly tucked away, common in such old buildings. Just as he was about to squeeze himself into the gents’ toilet, the ladies’ toilet door opened and out came the brunette, who stopped and just stood there right in front of him, a smile now crossing her face.

  “Well, hello,” she said, deliberately coming forward just slightly. Not seeming to notice they were already in a tight enough space due to the building’s design, she was gently pressing against his chest. Robert didn’t know what to think. Maybe she was further away from him, it was hard to tell due to the amount of alcohol he’d drunk. She stroked his cheek very slightly. Her hand felt warm and gentle and it sent a shudder through his body, the hairs on the back of his neck now standing on end. He just stood there in silence, his head spinning slightly and she reached down and held his hand in hers for a moment. She then pulled it up, putting it very deliberately onto her left breast, though it was separated by the layers of clothes. In the moment, with his senses suddenly heightened, it felt almost electric and he pulled his hand away as if out of fear of being inappropriate.

  “It’s all right,” she said quietly, almost whispering the words, but nothing was making much sense to him at that moment. She pulled his hand back onto her breast again, before sliding her other hand very deliberately down the front of his trousers. Robert was too surprised to stop her. After a few seconds he unconsciously pulled away. She didn’t seem to mind though and just smiled at him before turning away, adding:

  “We’ll have to see more of each other, you know, and get better acquainted!”

  Robert again didn’t know what to say but didn’t need to as she walked back down the corridor, disappearing around the corner. Robert turned, still unsure as to what had just happened and rushed into the bathroom.

  When Robert walked back into the bar a minute or so later, it was clear that there must have been some disagreement. The landlord and two quite large men were only just managing to drag out a clearly drunk but huge man who was shouting things and threatening someone back inside the pub. Robert feared for whoever had crossed the guy. A couple of minutes later the three men walked back inside slowly, as if used to this nightly routine.

  “Who was that?” Robert said to the landlord, who was straightening his shirt which had got a little misplaced in the havoc.

  “Oh, that pleasant beast was ‘Small Sam’ as we like to call him. Samuel Taylor to everyone else. Not a pleasant fellow most of the time and especially not when he’s had too much to drink. Old George over there only spilt a little bit of his drink onto Sam’s trouser leg and he nearly tore his throat out for it. We’re used to it but you know I can’t cope by myself. Yet how could I actually ban him? He’d kill me! I’m just glad that I’ve got these guys to help me out — what would I do if they weren’t here?” It seemed a genuine question. Robert glanced up as the guys picked up the chairs that had clearly been thrown over, replacing a few ash trays onto the tables, though smoking had long been against the law.

  The landlord cleaned the worktops for a few minutes with a dirty looking rag that hung above the far end of the bar. When he came over again to Robert’s section, removing the row of empty glasses, Robert said:

  “And who was the brunette that was sitting over there?” Robert pointed to a now empty table. The landlord laughed.

  “Don’t go having any thoughts in that direction, if it’s the only advice I ever give you. That was Katie Taylor.” He emphasised the surname so that it registered in Robert’s mind.

  “Don’t tell me, the younger sister?” Robert asked in hope.

  “No, the wife!”

  Robert looked up suddenly but it was clear the landlord was telling the truth. He turned away so that his face wouldn’t give anything away but sitting there by himself he simply said; “That’s all I need!”

  Getting up quickly, the place now in order again and the game on the television finished, he said goodbye and walked home. He thought about what Katie had said to him by the toilet, though already his thoughts were a blur and the events were unclear in his mind. It was hard to know whether they had in fact happened like that or if indeed he’d actually just fantasised that they had.

  Chapter 20

  Tommy Lawrence and Jessica Ponter had spent an amazing evening together. The restaurant had been wonderful, its mood perfectly reflecting how they were both feeling, which was fresh, excited and very much in love again. It had all come back to them so easily, an instant clicking from the moment they’d set eyes on each other once again. There was no dwelling on the past, just the enjoyment of all the romance that goes with a first date, even though it was the second time around for them. The film which they had then gone on to see also brought them closer, reminding them of old times together.

  It was now past midnight as the couple strolled arm in arm along the street having been dropped off by the hired car, which was being returned to its garage. The walk would give them some more alone time but was also part of Tommy’s plan. He had booked them into an expensive hotel for the night, but he wasn’t sure how Jessica would feel about it so wanted to walk around for a while before seeing what they’d do next. In the end it was clear how the evening would go. As they kissed, that long first kiss, again, they knew it would be better than ever before. How they’d missed each other and now back together nothing would get in their way. They both were in a position in life where they knew what they wanted and it certainly involved each other. They walked into the hotel lobby and Tommy collected the key, Jessica just swept along by the romance of it all.

  Getting to the room, Tommy opened the door with the key card and led Jessica in. There was a chilled bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket on the table by the window. The large double bed was beautifully made, complete with fluffy white cushions and chocolates on each pillow. Two beautiful table lamps sat at either side of the bed. The French doors on the far wall opened onto a large balcony which looked out on the Thames and at that time of night the city was alive with colour as the lights flooded the sky.

  But they would enjoy that later. Jessica ran back from the balcony and into his arms, kissing him with a passion as if to make up for all the lost time. There was an energy to it that was raw emotion, much of the hurt they’d caused each other now melting away as they fell to the bed in an embrace.

  Jessica pulled at his jacket and got it off after a little effort but Tommy couldn’t work the zip on the back of her dress and they burst out laughing. She stood up and spent five deliberately long minutes undressing for him. Tommy watched her in amazement, stunned by how beautiful he now found her, more so than ever before. When she had finished he stood up to embrace her once again before they fell back onto the comfortable, fresh cotton sheets.

  **********

  Nigel Gamble had had a disturbed night’s sleep and awoke with a start just before eight. The sunlight was already working i
ts way through a crack in the curtains on the far wall. He reached over onto the table next to his bed and checked the time, glad to have at least slept for a couple of hours without waking up.

  He was starting to get very restless, feeling constrained within his own walls, which now seemed to be pressing in on him from every side. Down the hall he knew that breakfast would be waiting for him and, beginning to feel rather hungry, he pulled on his dressing gown and walked out of the room and into the hall, carrying on until he was into the breakfast room and sitting down at the large table. As always, no one was around and he ate alone in silence. Everything had been laid out just as he liked it, there was a pot of coffee warming on a machine that sat on a long table against the wall and a number of different pastries temptingly laid out on plates, though he usually didn’t ever touch any of them.

  Next to his plate were his usual newspapers, but since the appearance of Robert he hadn’t been able to sit down long enough to actually read them. Why that was he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t as if he read them to look for any signs of Robert’s arrival, as it was highly unlikely that he’d ever feature in them. He had previously read the papers just in order to wait and search and even make business plans. Now there seemed no need to do so any more. Yesterday’s papers still sat on the small table next to the door, totally untouched.

  And in truth it all felt quite an anti-climax now, not how Nigel had imagined it would be. Why it should feel that way he didn’t know because the fact was that now it was real. No longer was he as free or as safe in his own world as he had been before Robert had shown up. He sat there, not doing anything for a whole minute.

  But most interesting of all and what brought him back to reality was a small piece of white paper sitting next to the newspapers, missed by Nigel at first, on which was a neatly written short note and telephone number. Nigel smiled for the first time that morning as he noticed it, reading it carefully and taking in every digit. He stood up suddenly and poured himself a coffee, leaving the milk on the table and starting to pace around the room, now feeling renewed energy, bordering on excitement. He occasionally broke the routine of pacing back and forth the twenty steps from one wall to the other by taking a few sips of the coffee and when it had cooled enough he finished it in one go. It was an expensive coffee which he had especially imported from Columbia, its rich and full bodied flavour hitting every sense and taste bud as he swallowed it all. It always gave him the kick he wanted, never did it disappoint, and that morning was no exception. It was just the start he needed to the day, especially after having had a broken night’s sleep. Nigel didn’t touch any of the food, instead, throwing the newspapers onto the now growing pile that sat on the table by the door, and grabbing the sheet of paper with the number on it, he raced back to his room, a different, more alive and focused person.