Mr Right Across the Street

by Kathryn Freeman

  ‘What do you reckon, Pickles?’ He bent to give the creature a scratch behind her long floppy ears. ‘If she pulls the blind up at ten, that has to mean she’s interested, yes?’

  Pickles twitched her nose and stared back at him. A brown and white lop-eared dwarf, she had the run of the flat and was the only girl he’d ever lived with. Maybe that was how his life was destined to be. And hell, it wasn’t a bad life. Pickles was easy, undemanding company and helped with the occasional loneliness he felt coming back to an empty flat. Even if it did mean he had to clean out her poo tray. For adult conversation, he had the punters at the bar, and for those times he wanted to unwind in the arms of a willing woman, well, he had numbers on his phone he could call; women who were happy to see him, no strings asked for or given.

  It wasn’t how he’d pictured his life evolving when he’d been cramming for his exams, university only a few months’ hard study away.

  ‘No point looking back though, is there girl?’ Pickles angled her head, whiskers bobbing up and down as she chewed on the treat he’d given her. ‘Life’s what we make it, and I’m not about to complain. Not when I’ve got the day off.’

  Rising to his feet, he ducked into the bedroom, shrugged on his shorts and headed for the spare room where he’d set up his weights.

  His note was still stuck on the window. With a sigh he tugged it off, his shoulder dropping, just a little, when he saw the blinds opposite were still down. Before he could think twice about it, he picked up the pad of paper and scrawled a new one:

  Hi Mia

  Not eloquent, not clever. But at least now there was no doubt who the greeting was directed towards.

  Yet as he sweated through his work out, the blinds to her room remained down.

  Feeling out of sorts, he headed for the shower where he gave himself a strict talking to. He had a damn bar to run now. Complications, and women definitely came in that category, were not what he needed right now.

  He’d been at his makeshift desk in the spare room – a plank of MDF laid across two dumb-bell racks – for ten minutes, poring over invoices and orders, when his phone rang. Seeing Sandy’s ID, he picked up.

  ‘Hey, what’s up?’

  ‘Me and Mateo have been waiting here for ten minutes, that’s what’s up.’

  ‘So, why are you telling me? Isn’t Bill there?’

  ‘Why would Bill be here? He’s down for Wednesday. Today’s Tuesday.’

  Luke glanced at the rota he’d stuck on the wall – Blu Tack was mighty handy – saw she was right, and swore. ‘On my way. Don’t kill me when I get there.’

  There was a long suffering sigh. ‘I guess I can promise that, though there might be some serious dismembering.’

  Unconsciously, he placed a protective hand over his groin. Then he grabbed his keys, wallet, jacket and legged it out of the flat.

  Notes to a woman he barely knew. What the shit was he playing at? He couldn’t even cope with the stuff he already had going on in his life. He didn’t need adding to it.

  Chapter Five

  By Thursday afternoon, Mia was proud of herself. For three days she’d not opened her blinds.

  She didn’t miss the sight of Immaculate Woman. She didn’t miss … okay, there was no other positive she could think of. She missed the daylight, the sight of something other than a blank brown canvas (if she was going to keep doing this, she’d have to invest in some non-cow pat coloured blinds). And damn yes, she missed the ten o’clock Luke show. She hadn’t realised how much it had motivated her to be at her desk.

  She’d updated Heather and Gill on the situation yesterday. Heather had told her she admired her discipline, even though she’d have messaged back because, ‘duh, hot guy’.

  Gill had told her she was bonkers. ‘Fine, don’t reply, but shutting the blinds, are you crazy? How many times in your life are you going to get a free show like that?’

  Her sister thought she was being a coward. This morning, after Mia had admitted yes, the blinds were still shut, Elle had messaged her:

  What are you going to do, keep the ruddy things closed forever?

  She had a point, Mia supposed.

  And Luke must surely have got the hint by now. Or, quite probably, he hadn’t even noticed she’d had her blinds down because he didn’t care.

  God, she was being crazy. This had to stop. With a ruthless snap of her wrist, she flicked the blind up.

  A moment later, her heart cartwheeled in her chest.

  There was no denying now that the original message had been intended for her. The way he’d added her name after the Hi, kind of gave it away.

  Doesn’t mean you have to reply.

  Mia forced her eyes back on her monitor and her focus back on work.

  She managed to keep it up for ten whole minutes before her gaze bounced back to Luke’s window and that damn piece of paper with its cheesy smile next to her name.

  With a huff of impatience, she phoned Elle.

  ‘So I opened the blinds, only to find he’s put my name next to the Hi. What am I supposed to do now, smarty pants?’

  Elle whooped. ‘Yay, you have no idea how much I needed this. Your love life is about the only thing stopping me from going stir crazy.’

  ‘I don’t have a love life. I have a … a dumb note stuck in a window with my name on it.’

  ‘Aw, come on, don’t be mean. He’s wooing you. It’s romantic.’

  Mia stared again at Luke’s window. If she hadn’t bumped into Chloe and the girls last Saturday, hadn’t heard them talk about Luke’s casual approach to sex, hadn’t seen him with his arms around Chloe, and a moment later seen another woman act all proprietorial in front of her. If she didn’t know he was having sex with Tanya… If none of that had happened, maybe she would think this was romantic.

  And maybe she would send him a message back.

  ‘Is it romantic, or is he just acting true to type?’

  ‘So cynical, baby sis. You barely know the guy, you can’t possibly have him down as a type already.’

  It was true. She usually she only found out a guy was a tosser once she’d started dating him. With Luke though, she had a feeling she’d had a lucky escape. ‘He asked for my number when I know for a fact he’s sleeping with at least one of the women I met last week. I rest my case.’

  ‘Umm, that is a bit yucky.’ Elle sighed. ‘What are you going to do about the message?’

  ‘Ignore it.’

  ‘Okay. Boring, but okay, I can see why Pete the Prick could have put you off men for a while.’

  ‘It isn’t just Pete the Prick, though he was by far the worst. It’s also Danny the Dick, Andy the Arsehole, Chris the—’

  ‘Yep, I can see where you’re coming from. The thing is though, Mia.’ A pause. ‘The thing is.’ Another pause, this time with a huff.

  ‘Jeeze, get to what the bloody thing is. Please. Unlike you, I do actually have some work to do.’

  ‘I am working, I’m incubating your nephew.’ Elle blew out a breath. ‘So anyway, the thing is, if you just ignore the message … where the hell am I going to get my entertainment from?’

  Mia spluttered with laughter. ‘God, you’re so cranky at this stage of your pregnancy. I’d forgotten.’

  ‘I’m sitting here feeling like a beached whale, my ankles are like tree trunks, my back aches, my husband thinks it’s hilarious I look so huge and keeps taking photos of me naked. You’ll be bloody cranky when you’re thirty-odd weeks pregnant.’

  Elle said it so emphatically, as if there was absolutely no doubt that Mia would, one day, not only be pregnant, but also have a husband who wanted to take naked photos of her. Yet as she said goodbye to Elle, Mia realised she couldn’t picture any of that. All she could see was her inhabiting the same four walls she was living in now. Immaculate Woman would probably have left to live in some four-bed house in a leafy lane, Luke to live with some rich woman who wanted him for his body. And she’d still be here. All alone.

  Mia rummaged i
n her drawer for a marker pen, then picked up a sheet of paper from the printer. For a few moments her hand hovered over it. Then she exhaled heavily and pushed the paper away.

  Lonely was fine. It didn’t bring angst, didn’t screw with your mind or play havoc with your emotions.

  An image of Elle and Dave on their wedding day came to mind. Their joy as they’d exchanged vows. Then later, the joy on her parents’ faces as they’d danced together as if they were the newlyweds.

  Sadly, lonely didn’t bring happiness, either.

  Saturday night and during a welcome lull – he supposed now the bar was his, he should leave out the welcome part as busy meant profit – Luke stepped into the back office and pulled out his phone. Still nothing back from Grace.

  Fingers flying across the keys, he messaged again.

  Having too much fun, avoiding me, can’t be arsed? Any other excuse for lack of reply to my text from yesterday? X

  He supposed he should give her a break, but he wasn’t used to not seeing her. He especially didn’t like not hearing from her.

  A tap on the door, and Mateo stuck his head round.

  ‘Thought you might like to know, she’s back.’

  Instinctively Luke knew, but because he didn’t want to look that keen, he raised an eyebrow. ‘Who’s back?’

  Mateo grinned. ‘You’re not kidding me, boss. I’ve watched you look out for her every night this week.’

  He could carry on the charade, but then he’d look like more of a loser than the guy who looked up every time someone came into the bar, hoping they had green hair. ‘I check out everyone who walks through the door. It’s important to know who the punters are.’

  ‘Yeah, especially those with green hair, freckles and a spark in their big blue eyes.’

  Luke gave Mateo a double take. ‘Sounds like you’re the one who’s been looking out for her.’ Yeah and that idea didn’t sit well with him.

  ‘I’m a single guy.’ Mateo winked. ‘And some women prefer their men on the younger side. More stamina.’

  Thankfully Luke’s phone beeped at that moment, preventing him having to reply.

  TOO MUCH FUN! Will phone soon. Promise. G x

  His mouth curved, imagining Grace’s face. Fine, he could live with the lack of communication, as long as she was happy.

  Maybe now he could find himself a little taste of happy.

  It wasn’t hard to spot Mia. She was the only woman standing at the bar with green stripes in her hair, no make-up and wearing a T-shirt that declared: [2b || !2b]. What on earth?

  ‘Hi.’ Not his finest opening line, but like the messages he’d left in his window, the ones she’d ignored, his wit seemed to have deserted him around her.

  Her gaze shot over to him and she gave him a careful smile. ‘Hi yourself.’

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ Duh. He gave himself a mental slap. Why else would she be at the bar?

  ‘Thanks, but Mateo’s serving me.’

  Fucking Mateo. Ignoring the flare of irrational jealousy, he nodded to her chest, trying not to look at the curve of her breasts – holy shit, beneath the loose clothes she’d worn last time, she’d been hiding the body of a porn star. Stop staring, stop staring.

  Drumming up all his willpower, Luke forced himself to read the wording on her shirt, rather than imagine what was under the shirt. Beneath the line of utter gobbledegook, [2b || !2b], was written: that is the expression. ‘Interesting T-shirt.’

  She glanced down, as if she’d forgotten what she was wearing, which was highly likely to be the case. ‘Oh, right. Computer nerd humour. To be or not to be?’

  ‘Ah, right.’ He laughed softly. ‘I barely know how to use one, never mind how to make them work. Is that what you do then?’

  ‘Yep.’ She smiled at Mateo as he settled her bottle of lager on the bar top. ‘Thanks, and three of the house cocktails.’

  Luke glanced over to the back of the bar, where Tanya, Chloe and Donna were sitting. Chloe gave him a wave, Donna a smile. And Tanya winked and blew him a kiss.

  ‘Seems I’m sitting with your fan club,’ Mia remarked dryly.

  ‘Hardly.’ He wanted to add that they were just regulars, but he suspected she knew Tanya was a bit more than that. They weren’t dating though, so it didn’t make him a douche to have asked Mia out. Did it?

  Mateo returned with a cocktail shaker which he proceeded to shake with a flourish before pouring the vivid green contents into three waiting glasses. ‘One day we’ll persuade her to try the cocktail, hey boss.’ He smirked at Luke before grinning back at Mia. ‘But be sure to ask me to make it for you. I’ve got a, let’s call it a more delicate touch.’

  While Luke gritted his teeth at the clear innuendo, Mia laughed. ‘I’ll remember that.’

  ‘I think the lady at the end of the bar is in need of your more delicate touch.’ Luke glowered at Mateo, who gave him a jaunty smile before strutting off to serve the waiting customer.

  There was a beat of silence while Luke struggled to regain his balance. This was totally unlike him. He was the master of bar banter, so why was he struggling with Mia? Because she turned you down. ‘It’s good to see you back here.’ He held her gaze. ‘I’m glad we didn’t scare you away.’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t scare easily.’

  ‘No?’ Luke felt the elephant in the room start to shuffle its feet. ‘Seems I might have scared you with my message in the window.’

  Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Scared me, no. But I wasn’t sure how to reply.’

  ‘A Hi back would have been nice.’ He smiled. ‘The drawing takes an artistic touch, and with you being into computers, you’ll probably struggle to compete with me.’

  Her laughter eased some of the tension he’d felt. At least he hadn’t totally screwed things up with her.

  Still, she didn’t reply to his comment. Instead she glanced down at the tray of drinks on the bar. ‘I think I’d better get these to their owners.’

  As he started to walk round the bar, she put a hand on his arm, stopping him. A light touch, yet his skin tingled. ‘You’ve got people to serve. I can manage.’

  It felt like another brush-off, though her smile was warm as she picked up the tray.

  ‘Okay, enjoy your evening. I hope to see you here again soon. Oh and Mia,’ he added, just before she set off. ‘Keep a look out at my window. I might message you again.’ He smiled. ‘Three times a charm?’

  She rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything further. As he watched her walk away he wondered what she thought of his messages, of him. He’d caught her watching him lift, so there was something, maybe. Equally though, she’d turned down his offer to meet up, ignored his notes, and kept her blinds closed nearly all week, so yeah, it was likely she’d only been staring out of the window. Normally he’d take the hint – no point chasing after someone who didn’t want to be chased, when plenty did – yet nothing about his reaction to Mia so far felt normal.

  Chapter Six

  Monday morning and Mia had just settled down at her desk when her doorbell sounded. With a groan of impatience she pushed back her chair and went to answer it.

  Stan stood there, greasy hair, straggling beard and a body shape that screamed type 2 diabetes; large belly hanging over his trousers, the buttons of his shirt under serious strain.

  ‘You know about this modern technology.’

  She tried to hide her smile. Her neighbour clearly wasn’t a fan of the long preamble. Or even the short pleasantry, apparently. ‘Good morning, Stan.’

  He humphed. ‘Yes, yes, but this is an emergency. My TV doesn’t work.’

  ‘Your TV?’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘I work with computers, Stan. Not televisions.’

  ‘You use a screen, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, yes, just like I use a car. It doesn’t mean I know what happens under the bonnet.’

  Ignoring her, he walked to his front door – three strides away – pushed it open and waved for
her to go inside.

  Bloody great. Checking she had the key to her flat, she followed him in. The two places were side by side, mirror images of each other in terms of layout, but entering Stan’s was like going into an eighties time warp. Everything was beige, except for the plants which seemed to have taken over the flat, like Triffids. Two giant speakers were set at either end of the living room, and next to one of them was a literal tower of CDs. She imagined somewhere there were stacks of VHS videos lurking on orange coloured pine shelves.

  Snatching up the remote control, he pointed it at the TV. ‘See here, flaming thing is frozen. I can’t turn it off, can’t change channel. I’m stuck with that bloody Piers Morgan.’ He glowered at her. ‘I can’t stand the guy.’

  ‘Okay, I see your issue. He is a bit Marmite.’ When Stan looked at her blankly, she added, ‘You either love him or hate him?’

  ‘At least with Marmite you can put a ruddy lid on it.’

  ‘Good point.’ She held out her hand for the remote. ‘Can I take a look?’

  ‘I’m a pensioner, not a geriatric,’ he grumbled when she opened the battery case. ‘I know how to change the batteries.’

  There was only one other thing this computer nerd could think of. Mia walked to the wall behind the TV and turned it off at the plug. ‘At least that’s got rid of Piers for you.’

  Stan didn’t look too impressed. ‘I could’ve done that. Bet he’s still there when you turn it back on.’

  ‘Ah, then you’d be betting against the magic power of the reboot.’

  The screen flickered to life, and Mia pressed the remote control. As she changed it over to BBC1, cutting Piers off mid rant, a smile spread across Stan’s face. ‘You’re a bloody genius.’

  She could point out she’d only turned it off and on again. Or she could take the praise. Mia figured the latter was the most neighbourly, so she smiled. ‘You know where to find me if Piers gives you any other problems.’