Double Cheque

by Heather MacQuarrie

  “Thanks,” smiled Jasmine, fishing her bunch of keys from her handbag and handing them over, glad that she would not have to negotiate the narrow exit route herself. She went in to the small office to settle her bill and retrieve the spare key she had left with the mechanic, who assured her that the car was now running perfectly. Alastair jumped out of the driving seat when he saw her coming and stood in the rain as he waved her off before making a beeline for his own Golf.

  “I’ll pick up something nice for our lunch,” Jasmine called out of the window as she activated the windscreen wipers at their fastest speed. It was now blowing nothing short of a gale.

  The journey home was even slower with the weather causing havoc in addition to the roadworks and the planned detour to the shopping centre taking ages due to long queues at the tills. Jasmine finally arrived at her own front door just a few minutes before midday. She was surprised to see that Alastair hadn’t made it home yet.

  ***

  Back at the repair garage Alastair was frantically trying to think of a way of getting in touch with his girlfriend. After waving her off he had tried unsuccessfully to access his own vehicle only to realise, when it was too late, that he had thrown his own keys down on her passenger seat when he got in to move the car into an easy position for her to exit the grounds. For the first ten minutes or so he had lived in hope that she would notice them and would return to make the handover. But as he stood there in the pouring rain, it slowly dawned on him that it wasn’t going to happen. His phone, his wallet and his coat were all firmly locked inside the gleaming red car, all clearly and frustratingly visible. With a sinking heart he realised that he didn’t even know her mobile number if he were to borrow a phone. It was all too easy nowadays to just select a name from your list of contacts and to be automatically connected without memorising anything. She had said she’d go shopping. But where? And for how long? There was no point getting a taxi home to collect his spare key because he wouldn’t be able to access the building. Drenched now from head to toe, Alastair glanced at his watch. It was 11.40 am.

  “Everything all right, Mate?” It was one of the mechanics working on another vehicle. Alastair told him what had happened. “We close early on a Saturday,” the mechanic then said with a hint of urgency. “The boss will be locking those gates at one o’clock sharp.”

  “So my car could be trapped in here until Monday?” Alastair replied despondently. “Will I at least be able to get into the grounds to retrieve my phone and wallet?”

  “Not after one o’clock. We have pretty good security. We have to, with all these expensive cars about the place. People rely on us to keep them safe.”

  “Life was a lot simpler before I became a driver,” Alastair muttered to himself, trying to see the funny side of the situation without much success. Then the mechanic handed him a lifeline.

  “If your girlfriend’s car was being repaired here, we would have her number in the system. Go and explain what has happened to Ryan over there in the office and hopefully you’ll be able to raise her in time.”

  “Of course! Thanks.” Alastair made a beeline for the office and spoke to the young man who was able to find Jasmine’s number immediately. He tried to phone her using the garage landline but to no avail.

  “She turns it off when she’s driving,” Alastair acknowledged, feeling more frustrated than ever. “And sometimes she forgets to turn it on again for ages. If she’s already in the supermarket, there’s a good chance that there’s no signal anyway.”

  “Is there anyone else I can phone for you?” Ryan asked.

  “I don’t know anyone’s number. Do you have a book?”

  “I don’t think so. No-one uses a phone book anymore.”

  Alastair sighed, disheartened and miserable. His only chance was that Jasmine might even now spot the bunch of keys on her passenger seat and come back before the gates were shut. But he knew only too well that she would have set her bag down on that same seat and the keys were most likely hidden from view. He racked his brain for someone who might be able to intercept her movements. If only he had a number for Bradley or Jillian.

  ***

  Jasmine parked her car and stared out at the rain which was still streaming down the windows. At least the door of the flat was only a few steps away but she had several bags of shopping to bring in from the boot. Picking up her handbag from the passenger seat, she prepared to battle against the elements and opened the car door. A blast of icy cold wind nearly tore it off its hinges. Jasmine grabbed her pink and green fleecy scarf and wrapped it around her neck. But what was that shiny object still sitting there, nestling snuggly behind the armrest? A bunch of keys. Those careless mechanics had left someone else’s keys in her car. Well, they could come and collect them from her. She wasn’t making that wearisome journey all over again. If they were in a hurry for them they would surely have called her. Jasmine popped the keys into her bag and hurried to unlock the door of the apartment. Then she made three extra trips to the car to fetch her shopping, deposited the bags in the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. Oh, it was lovely to be home. The heating was on and she revelled in the cosy warmth that enveloped her. But where was Alastair? He should have been back by now.

  Fishing out her phone from her turquoise blue Kipling bag, Jasmine discovered that it was quite dead. She had meant to charge it up overnight but had forgotten. She plugged it in. She would call the garage as soon as it was powered up and let them know about those keys. How come she hadn’t noticed them earlier? Of course, that was it; she had parked indoors at the shopping centre so she hadn’t needed her scarf. It hadn’t been moved since she had thrown it down on the passenger seat as she got into the car at the repair garage. The thought went through her head, fleetingly, that Alastair mustn’t have spotted them either when he moved the car for her. She sat down to enjoy her coffee.

  ***

  It was now twenty past twelve. Alastair was almost feeling tearful. He was so cold and wet and miserable, standing there looking at his pride and joy, the newest, shiniest car in sight, yet not able to access it. Suddenly he heard someone address him by name.

  “You’re not Alastair Henning by any chance?”

  The face looked vaguely familiar but Alastair took some prompting before he could place it. He gave a nod of uncertainty.

  “Geography,” encouraged the newcomer. “And history.”

  Alastair smiled, now recognising the teacher from his old school. “Mr Newell,” he affirmed. “Sorry, it took me a minute to register.”

  “You’re soaking, Lad. Is there something wrong? If you’re waiting for someone, do you want to come and sit in my car? My lady friend is here to pick up her car but it isn’t quite ready yet.”

  “Lady friend? Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just remember Mrs Newell teaching in the school as well.”

  “Your memory serves you well. My wife died three years ago.”

  Mr Newell was now opening the door for Alastair to slide into the back seat of his car.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Sir,” Alastair uttered, thankful to be out of the rain at least.

  “Margaret, this is one of my former pupils,” Mr Newell said, addressing his companion in the passenger seat as he got back in himself and closed the door. “He’s soaked to the skin waiting for someone to pick him up. I invited him to join us here in the dry.”

  The woman turned round to acknowledge him and they both got a bit of a shock.

  “Mrs Redpath!” exclaimed Alastair.

  “Alastair Henning!” breathed Margaret.

  “Oh, you know one another?” The geography teacher was taken by surprise and waited for clarification.

  “We do indeed.” It was Alastair who provided the explanation. “Greta’s daughter is a good friend of mine and of my girlfriend.” He suddenly felt a glimmer of hope, a chance to solve his predicament. He turned to Margaret
. “Actually,” he gushed, “you could do me the greatest favour. Could you phone Maggie and get Jillian’s number for me? Now. It’s quite urgent.”

  “Yes, of course,” Greta agreed, pleased that he appeared quite friendly and had not mentioned the other reason why they knew one another. “Have you left your own phone at home or something?”

  “It’s locked inside that red car.”

  In no time at all Greta had phoned Maggie and obtained Jillian’s number, Greta had then phoned Jillian, handing the phone to Alastair so he could explain what had happened and Jillian was now hammering on Jasmine’s door with Bradley in hot pursuit.

  ***

  “What on earth is the matter?”

  Jasmine had just finished tidying away her shopping and washing out her coffee mug when she heard the almighty racket outside. She opened the door to find her two friends looking flushed and excited.

  “Alastair’s stranded at the garage,” Jillian said hurriedly. “His keys are in your car.”

  “Those are Alastair’s keys!” cried Jasmine feeling very stupid. “I didn’t recognise them. He hasn’t had the car for very long.”

  “You mean you knew they were there all that time? He’s been standing in the rain for hours, trying to get in touch with you.”

  “No, I only found them a few minutes ago. And my phone is dead.”

  “The garage closes at one o’clock,” Bradley announced, taking charge. “Give me the keys and I’ll take them over to him. I might just make it in time.”

  Jasmine, grateful that she didn’t have to make the return journey herself, handed over the keys at once and Bradley rushed out to his own car.

  “I feel awful now,” Jasmine told Jillian, “sitting here in the heat and drinking coffee while he’s out there getting drenched. So he phoned you when he couldn’t contact me?”

  “Just there now,” Jillian confirmed. “I didn’t recognise the number so he’s lucky I answered it. I usually ignore calls from unfamiliar numbers.”

  “Me too. You hear of so many dodgy scams. Whose phone was he using?”

  “No idea. But it wasn’t his own. I have him listed in my contacts so his name would have come up.”

  “And he only just called you now? It must be almost two hours since I left him standing in the rain. His car must be locked.”

  “With his phone inside!”

  Jillian stayed for coffee and they both waited anxiously for some sign that Bradley had made the journey before the deadline when the gates would close for the weekend. They tried to relax and talk about other things.

  “I’m so glad that Thomasina has hooked up with Gabriel,” Jillian remarked. “He seems like a nice man.”

  “Alastair is over the moon,” Jasmine concurred. “It’s almost like he has a dad again. They’re going on holiday together next week.”

  “Wow! It is serious then.”

  “Definitely. They’re like two teenagers, madly in love.”

  “Does he have a family of his own?”

  “No, he’s been a widower for years. He never had any children. I’m just so happy for both of them.”

  Jillian’s phone rang.

  “Is that Bradley? Has he arrived?” Jasmine, almost feeling sick now with nerves, glanced at her watch. 12.55

  Jillian shook her head, noticing her brother’s name in the caller display.

  “Hi Vinnie. It’s not a good time. Can I call you back?”

  No sooner had she disconnected the call than it rang again.

  “Imogen. Sorry, I’m waiting for an important call. Catch you later.”

  Unbelievably the phone rang for a third time. Jillian glanced at the caller display and saw Maggie’s name. “I’m not even going to answer it this time,” she told Jasmine. “Hopefully Bradley will ring any minute now.”

  “Surely they’ll keep the place open for him when they know he’s on his way.”

  “Hope so.”

  But the silence dragged on and the deadline passed.

  ***

  “I’ll go and check whether your car is ready yet,” Danny Newell told Margaret. “They said they’d only be ten minutes or so.” Then he turned to Alastair. “You stay where you are. I’ll let them know that your keys are on the way over and make sure they don’t close up before they get here.”

  Alastair smiled. “Thanks Mr Newell,” he said relieved.

  “Danny,” the teacher corrected him. “We’re not in school anymore.”

  “Was he a good teacher?” Margaret asked.

  “The best.”

  Danny headed out into the wind and went to seek out the mechanic who had been working on Greta’s car. Alastair felt a little awkward, left alone with the woman whose husband had caused the death of his own father. But he suddenly realised that the awkwardness was on account of her feelings rather than his own. He had adjusted to the situation some time ago and bore her no ill will. He tried to put her at ease.

  “So which do you prefer, Margaret or Greta?”

  “Either. But I don’t think I’ll ever use Marguerite again.”

  “Why not? It’s a lovely name. Does Danny know about…”

  Greta interrupted him. “Yes, he does. But I never actually told him the names of those involved. I didn’t realise that he used to teach at your old school.”

  “So he isn’t there any longer?”

  “No, he left teaching after his wife died. He’s working in finance now.”

  “I seem to remember he had a couple of children.”

  “Yes, that’s right. Tom has followed him into teaching and Sally is a nurse.”

  “Any grandchildren?”

  “No, not yet. Maggie told me you have a baby on the way. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. It’s due in March.”

  It all felt a bit surreal, sitting there in soaking wet clothes, engaging in small talk with Greta Redpath. And yet Alastair had a strange sensation of calmness. He cleared his throat and swallowed nervously. And then he said what was really on his mind. “I’m glad you’ve found a special friend. You deserve some happiness.”

  Greta also gulped apprehensively, obviously a little on edge. “That is very kind and means so much to me, Alastair,” she said. “I think about you and your mother a lot. I hope she is well?”

  Alastair nodded. “She’s great, thanks. Actually she’s in a new relationship too. She’s met this guy called Gabriel Duffy. They’re going on holiday together next week and she’s talking about moving in with him.”

  “And you’d be happy with that?”

  “Absolutely. He’s a top bloke. I introduced them.” He paused for a moment and then added, “She thinks about you and Maggie a lot too. She’ll be delighted for you.”

  “As I am for her. I’m so glad I bumped into you today. You’ve grown into such a lovely young man. Your mother must be so proud of you.”

  Danny opened the door to tell Margaret that her car was now ready, accompanied by Bradley who had arrived at exactly one o’clock. Danny had recognised him at once.

  “You’re the lad who used to visit our school as part of the buddy system,” he exclaimed.

  “Ah, I thought I knew your face from somewhere,” Bradley replied. “Yes, Alastair and I have been friends ever since. He was recently Best Man at my wedding.”

  “How wonderful!” Danny chortled. Then he noticed that both Alastair and Margaret were looking somewhat emotional, as they emerged from the car.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Margaret told Danny. “But don’t worry. It’s all good.”

  Spontaneously Alastair embraced her and she hugged him back, tears now falling from her eyes. Then he turned to his friend who was holding out his bunch of keys and looking a bit mystified. “Thanks so much, Brad. I can’t wait to get home and out of these wet clothes. See you there.”

>   Chapter 31

  Patricia and Kenneth were both in stitches as Jasmine and Alastair related their adventures of the morning, each from their own perspective. Alastair, now looking clean and fresh following his warm shower and change of clothes, embellished the story even more with tales of other cars relentlessly passing in and out of the garage forecourt, splashing him with huge splodges of dirty water and mud, whilst appetising aromas of frying bacon and garlic bread emanated from houses across the road as he stood in the rain, hungry and shivering against the cold. Jasmine kept apologising profusely as she regretted throwing her scarf down on top of the keys before calmly strolling around the shops and arriving home to a cosy apartment and welcoming hot drink.

  “It’s the fact that you didn’t even try to contact me when you did find them!” teased Alastair, milking the situation to give her parents an extra laugh. He wasn’t really cross with her at all. It was his own fault. He knew that.

  They had called for a brief visit on their way to Thomasina’s home. Alastair no longer lived there, having moved in with Jasmine as they prepared for the birth of their child.

  “That was a stroke of luck meeting your old teacher,” grinned Patricia. “And he was with someone who knew how to get in touch with you?”

  “Margaret Redpath,” Jasmine revealed with a smile.

  “Gosh! What a coincidence”. Patricia was goggle-eyed. “Were you not upset to see her, Alastair?”

  “Not at all. I’m happy for her. Especially now that my mum is in a settled relationship too.”

  “She’s still seeing Gabriel?”

  “Yes. They’re heading off to Portugal together next week.”

  “We’re just heading over to see her now,” put in Jasmine.

  “Well, be sure to give her our best wishes,” said Patricia, “and tell her we hope she has a lovely time.”

  Kenneth nodded his agreement as they both accompanied the younger couple to the door and out to their car. The postman was just passing by and handed Patricia a pile of rather soggy mail. It had at least stopped raining by now and the sun was trying to break through.