by Moira Murphy
The men had packed up said their good-byes and piled into the works van, yet Dale hung back, it seemed he had something on his mind.
“Jo,” he said, tentatively, “you know you said your old man had gone off with somebody else years ago.”
Uh-oh, he had discovered my old man was George and that I was a liar and a fraud.
He shuffled about a bit.“Well, that being the case and as you don’t seem to have anybody else in your life at the moment, well not that I can tell anyway, I wondered if you might fancy going out with me?”
Huh! “B-but Dale,” I stammered, “you’re so good looking, you can’t possibly want to go out with me! I mean with your looks you could have anybody; you could be in a boy-band… West Life… and you’re so much younger than I am…”
He threw his head back and laughed. “A boy-band! West Life! As if!” He had a nice laugh, not a guffaw and not an over-the-top loud, blokey laugh, just nice. “You are so funny,” he said eventually. “But hey, I’m not that much younger than you, I’ll be twenty-seven next birthday, that’s not so young. The thing is, when we were out shopping the other day, I noticed people looking at us as if we were a couple and I was really happy for them to think that. I think you’re great. Okay, admittedly you’re no Mary Poppins meets Pollyanna but that’s what I like about you. I love the way you just get on with things in your own way. You look after the kids and your mother and the dog and you always look nice. I love your hair and,” pointing to my mouth, he said, “I love the way that front tooth slightly overlaps the other one, you’ve got a helluva lot going for you, don’t sell yourself short. That husband of yours must’ve been mad.”
Crickey! I was more than flattered, but it was the mad husband that was the stumbling block. He had specifically asked me not to let on that I was his wife. If I agreed to go out with Dale, then it was bound to come out sooner or later and he would see me for the liar I was. But hell and damnation, he was soooo nice.
“Dale, I can’t tell you how flattered I am that you would even consider asking me out,” he seemed to move in for a kiss but I side-stepped him, “it’s just I seem to have so much going on at the moment that having someone else in my life is not really an option – not yet anyway – sorry. Perhaps when things settle down a bit…” D-A-M-N!
He put up his hand to silence me. “Okay, Jo, a knock-back is a knock-back however it’s dressed up. But I do think you’re great.” And he picked up what was left of his pride, stuffed it into his bag with his tools and slung them over his shoulder. “See you in the morning then, eight-thirty sharp.” And he was out the door.
I had to sit down. Where the hell had that come from? And why was life so complicated? Why didn’t I just throw caution to the four corners and go out with Dale and bugger the consequences. It wasn’t as if he was proposing marriage, he just liked my hair and my crooked tooth, and it wasn’t as though I had any allegiance to George. On the contrary, I was screwing him for all he was worth but things had started off all wrong. I hadn’t just moved into the house and inherited the mirror. I wasn’t Mrs Henderson and the mad husband who’d scarpered years ago, was Dale’s employer who I’d been quizzing Dale about. And George and I weren’t even properly divorced yet and George was responsible for the mirror and that was something he didn’t want ‘the lads’ to know about and I couldn’t risk rocking the boat, not now, not with everything still to be paid for – although it’s possible George would still acquiesce (so to speak) on the strength of his continuing guilt-trip, but Fran sure as hell wouldn’t, or to put it another way, if I was Fran, I sure as hell wouldn’t…
But for Dale to have asked me out, well that was certainly something I could hang my hat on, and I WOULD.
I was still sitting there, when the door opened and Josh’s bag came hurtling along the hall, followed by him and Lucy. They were surprised I was at home, they had gotten used to me being at the hospital when they came from school.
“How did it go with Millie, Mam? Did she behave? Did they like her?” Lucy wanted to know.
“Hmmm, well yes and no. She had a mixed reception, but I suppose it went okay. There was no harm done, no damage, for which I was grateful and she did seem to cheer Nell up, which was the object of the exercise, but I don’t think I would do it again, my nerves couldn’t take it. Why not go upstairs while I get on with the tea and see what the workmen have done. You can actually have a bath now, or a shower; no more having to go to Gran’s.”
Josh groaned. He hadn’t been going to Gran’s anyway. He’d had a couple of showers at school after PE, which he reckoned, was more than enough.
Lucy was ecstatic. “This has got to be the best bathroom ever!” she called down, over the sound of the running tap.
Later we sat down to tea. Well Lucy and I did, Josh was muttering and complaining about lamb cutlets and cauliflower cheese.
“You can count me out. No way am I eating that! It looks like dog vomit. I’ll just have a crisp sandwich.”
“If you think I’ve been cooking for the past hour for you to have a crisp sandwich, young man, you have another think coming.”
“I might go round to Leo’s. Arnie lets us have crisp sandwiches he says the potato could count as one of your five-a-day and if it’s cheese and onion there’s a bit of protein in there as well.”
“He’s having you on, Josh. Now sit down and eat your food.”
Just then Leo knocked then came in smiling.
“You look pleased with yourself, Leo, have you had some good news?” I asked.
He had. His mother was back. But not before she had made up some rules about Tigger. He was to be allowed to stay but only on condition that he wasn’t to go upstairs to sleep on the beds, he wasn’t allowed to chew filthy, disgusting bones that had been dug up out of the garden on the fireside rug, and his bed was to be changed from the soft, smelly, comfortable sort to the hard, plastic, easy to clean sort. Arnie and Leo had agreed with the conditions for the sake of a quiet life, but Arnie said he didn’t think the dog would want to stay now. He said he wouldn’t if he was the dog.
“That looks nice,” said Leo, looking over Josh’s plate.
“There’s plenty if you want some,” I offered.
“Yes please,” he said.
And he and Josh cleared their plates then both asked for seconds.
39
NICKED
“Joanne,” whispered my mother, conspiratorially, “I’ve found the perfect man for you. You’ll need to move quickly though, because Gladys in room two has her eye on him for her daughter, Daphne. You’ll have seen Daphne, a big girl, green mohair cardy, works in B&Q, comes in about three o’clock most afternoons, then goes out after about ten minutes for a smoke. Bella says she thinks Daphne is part lesbian. Ruth says it must be the part that drives the fork lift truck round in B&Q. He’s lovely, his name is Nick. He’s Irish. Comes in to exercise the old people, the ones that cannot get about. They say he has a lovely touch.”
“Oh, tell you what, Mam, I’ll just put a notice on my head shall I? ‘Desperate – come and get it’. Or, what about, ‘Been dumped – up for grabs’. Or even, ‘If you’re Irish come into the parlour, there’s a welcome there for you’. How about that, eh?”
“Joanne!”
“And incidentally, Mam, although everyone seems to assume I must be desperate to have a man in my life, I have just turned down someone years younger than me and who is so hot he sizzles. Oh, and let’s not forget you thought George was a catch so how could I possibly question your intuition about this Nick!”
Ruth was out of the room as quickly as her new hip would allow. Bella and Nell looked shocked, as well they might. As soon as the words had left my mouth, I regretted them, my mother didn’t deserve it. But, I still had Dale on my mind. I really didn’t want him just to walk off into the sunset with his bag over his shoulder without a backward
glance.
Then I was contrite, “Sorry, Mam, that was uncalled for.” I took her hand and looked over to Bella and Nell. “Sorry Bella, Nell, I think I’m just a bit tired that’s all. Oh, go on then, tell me about this Nick.”
My mother smiled, she wasn’t going to be phased. “Well Joanne, he’s got this way about him and the people who know about these things, the people he has worked on that is, say he has a lovely touch and he has such a nice smile and – oh, speak of the devil, here he comes now.”
It was the man in the white coat I’d met in the corridor yesterday.
“Well, hello there ladies. I was just passing and I thought I’d pop in for a few moments to see how everyone is getting along.”
“All the better for seeing you, Nick,” Bella, flirted.
Then he saw me. “Oh and it’s the dog lady, is it not? And the dog, isn’t she with you today?” His smile was as wide as his shoulders and his teeth were as white as his coat.
“No she isn’t, and excuse me,” I said haughtily, “but if you must refer to my bringing in my dog – on a mercy mission, I might add – then please refer to me as the lady with the dog. I take great exception to being defined as the Dog Lady.” Then I turned my back on him.
That told him! But he was still infuriatingly familiar.
The room went silent. Not even Bella said anything.
“Yes, you’re right, that wasn’t very gentlemanly of me. Please accept my apologies.”
“I’m going to the kiosk, Mam, do you want anything?” I said, ignoring him and his apologies.
“N-no thank you, Joanne.”
“Kiosk. Anybody?”
“No thank you, Joanne,” mumbled Bella and Nell.
I picked up my bag and strutted out with my nose in the air. I went to the kiosk and bought a magazine and a Kit-Kat. I decided to go outside, through the back doors onto the grassed area and take in some fresh air. I was tired, hormonal and in need of chocolate.
“It’s a bit blowy out today,” said a woman’s voice from the first bench, probably hoping for a bit of company, but I wasn’t in the mood.
“It certainly is,” I said, continuing to walk. I had my sights set on the deserted middle bench in the half arc which surrounded the flower beds.
I sat down under the shade of a lilac tree and leaned back. The branches of the tree were heavily laden and overhanging with blossom and I looked through them and into the sun. The breeze was carrying with it the perfume from the lilac flowers, some of which were already tinged with brown. Soon they would all be brown and dry and shrivelled and blown away by some other breeze. Today though they swayed and danced promiscuously, beckoning the bees to gather their nectar while they could.
Dried tendrils from the tree fell onto my lap and skidded across the magazine pages which I tried to turn but they just blew in on themselves, so I gave up. It was too much effort. I unwrapped the Kit-Kat, broke off one of the fingers and put it half-way into my mouth to suck the chocolate slowly through to the wafer. I leaned back. My hair was loose and the wind was blowing through it. The sun was warm on my face. God, I was tired. The days of hospital visits, shopping for my mother’s stuff and for food that the kids could manage to make for themselves, choosing tiles, flooring and paint samples, along with the nights of sleeping on the sofa, had all taken its toll. I tried to think about Dale and what I should do to stop him drifting off and out of my life, but he became a blur as I felt myself drifting off and into some wonderful, peaceful, warm place called sleep.
Until that is, a hand touched my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” The voice was gentle but even so I nearly jumped out of my skin while nearly choking on the half submerged finger of Kit-Kat. I’d dozed off while the other half was still sticking out of my mouth.
It was him. And he was smiling. The sense of familiarity I had had about him jumped out and kicked me up the backside. I pushed the rest of the kit-kat into my mouth in a self conscious attempt to get rid of it, before realising there was too much of it and my cheeks bulged like a chipmunk’s. Not a good look. A smile, even if I had wanted to attempt one was out of the question, my mouth being too full and my teeth covered in chocolate. Neither could I say anything, not until I’d chewed and swallowed, yet what could I say? ‘We’ll have to stop meeting like this, my pride can’t take it’!
He sat down. I didn’t want him to. I wanted to push him off the bench and say GO AWAY, don’t you recognise humiliation when you see it! LEAVE ME ALONE.
“I’m awfully sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I seem to be making a habit of that, waking you when you’ve dozed off. I just thought I should give you a little nudge. You seemed to be in the middle of eating something and I didn’t want you to choke.”
He was smiling, good humouredly. But I sat as solemn as a stone.
“Sometimes when you close your eyes against the sun it just happens and you’re off before you realise it. It’s happened to me before and usually when I should have been somewhere or had something important to attend to.”
I didn’t want to hear him making excuses for me. I just wanted him off that bench and out of my life.
“And your point is?” I said.
“Well, it’s just that we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot and I wanted to apologise properly. Is it Joanne or do you prefer Jo?”
“Whatever.” I shrugged, sounding more like Lucy than Lucy.
“I just wanted to say I thought it was noble of you to have brought Millie in to see Nell and the other patients. The dogs that are normally brought in are trained and are introduced gradually, but you just jumped straight in with Millie and I thought that was very brave of you.”
“The word you’re looking for is stupid.”
“No, I said brave and I meant it.”
“Yes, well if you’ll excuse me, my mother will be wondering where I’ve got to.” I made to get up.
“They’re all having lunch back there and it’s such a nice day, pity to waste the sunshine, won’t you stay a little while longer? I could tell you about my dog, if you like.”
For God’s sake! So I have a dog. So what! It doesn’t mean I want to hear about other people’s bloody hounds.
I sighed, sat down again and half yawned, hoping he’d get the message. “What about it?”
“Well, his name is Barney, he’s a retriever cross and I got him from an old lady who couldn’t keep him anymore. He was too boisterous for her to handle and as she knew I’d been a dog trainer many moons ago she asked me if I wanted him. He’s very handsome, full of fun, gentle and clever. But he’s still in Ireland and I miss him.”
He was a dog trainer!
He went on to say that he and his girlfriend Suze (Suzanne, that is) who he had been with for the best part of five years had split up and he had decided on a complete new start. A friend of his, already living in England, had told him about this job, he had applied for it, had had a couple of interviews, was successful, so here he was.
“And what is the job?” He wore a white coat but he couldn’t have been a doctor. My mother wouldn’t have called a doctor by his first name.
“Physiotherapist. I split my time working in two of the local hospitals. I’m usually here most weekends and a couple of days during the week. Came into the profession a bit late really. I played rugby for a few years, even had a trial for Ireland when I was in my teens, didn’t make the grade though. But I played semi-professional and over the years I ended up with plenty of injuries and those injuries required plenty of physio. Somewhere along the line I decided to give up the game and concentrate instead on the treatments.”
“My son, Josh, plays rugby. He’s in the school team.”
“Really! Well if I ever get to meet Josh, I’d be happy to teach him all I know about the game.”
I was mellowing. It was his
openness and his ready smile and those dark blue eyes. “And your dog?” It just came out.
“Oh, poor old Barney is still where I left him, being looked after by Suze. He had to have blood tests before I could bring him out of the country and the results take about four weeks. I’m due to collect him and bring him over in a few days’ time. Tell you what would be great, if Barney could meet Millie when I finally get him here. We could take them for walks in the country and on the beach, Barney loves the water. I’m sure they’d be the best of pals. What do you say?”
“Erm…” Was he asking me out, or what?
Then his bleeper went. He clicked it off, “Oops, sorry Jo, duty calls. I have an appointment waiting. Catch up with you again sometime.” He got up and started to walk away. Then he half turned and winked and said, “I meant it about those walks.”
I suddenly didn’t want him to go. My mother was right, there was definitely something about him. About the way he smiled his quick, unaffected, disarming smile. And the way the blueness of his eyes stood out against the black of his thick, straight lashes. Yet something indefinable was behind all of that. Something much more potent. Something had happened to me with that wink. A feeling. Vague, yet positive. It might have in my toes or my fingers or inside my chest or my head. I couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it was something I wanted to hold onto. Was it that chemical reaction thing they talk about? Could it be love? But I had never been in love so how would I recognise it? Perhaps the reason it hadn’t happened before was because I hadn’t met him yet. There had been an Irish Sea between us.
I had to get a grip. Let’s face it, if it was love it would be unrequited. I mean how could he possibly feel the same about me? Why would he? If he felt anything at all, it was probably pity. There was every chance he thought I was on drugs or something. He had nudged me awake, twice. Once while sleeping on a hospital park bench with my head back and my mouth open – possibly, and I shudder to think of it – snoring, and then while sleeping on a different hospital park bench with half a finger of kit-kat sticking out of my mouth. That wasn’t much to go on. It certainly could have gone better than that. It wasn’t exactly the sort of scenario Barbara Cartland would have considered for the opening of a romantic novel; even an auspicious opening of a romantic novel.
