by Liz Tipping
“Oh, I’m slightly good-looking am I?” he said, rubbing the stubble on his chin, admiring himself in the mirror behind the bar, turning his head to look at both profiles, like a Premiership footballer in a Gillette advert.
He took his coat off and hung it up out the back. Brimming with confidence, he swaggered over to April who was still there. I wondered why she had been shunning her posh café bars and I surmised it was because she was sniffing around Stubbs. She was simpering and giggling at his every word.
“Oh good God,” said Verity, placing my drink on the bar and laughing. “What have you done, Cara? You’ve created a monster.”
“Yes, certainly looks like my work here is done.” That was the plan, I told myself, to give Stubbs the confidence to ask April out. And I’d done it, mission accomplished, but I didn’t feel like I had accomplished anything.
“You’re not, you know, regretting it are you?” asked Verity.
“No, I think it’s brilliant,” I lied. I suppose it was brilliant in a way, for Stubbs.
“Yeah, well done,” said Verity. “When do you think he will ask her out?”
“I don’t know,” I said, and I didn’t, because I never thought he would. “I think I’m going to go.”
Stubbs came back over. “You going already?” he said. “Hey, listen, you know April has this digital media business? She’s been asking if I know anyone who could help her out with some photography.”
“Yeah, that’s brilliant,” I said. I could tell by the look on his face he was excited. I was desperately trying to be pleased for him. I wanted him to take his photography up again, but I felt sick it was at the hands of April. “I’m so pleased for you. Things are looking up eh?”
“So are you off then?”
“Yeah, I have stuff to do,” I said and I left. I wasn’t happy leaving Stubbs with April. I felt left out of it all. I felt a bit sick at the thought of them having fun together, of Stubbs having fun without me.
At home, I tried to put any thoughts of them together out of my mind by Facebook-stalking Daniel, hitting refresh on my cardigan bidding and checking the ticket sales for our event to see if anyone had bought one. There was nothing. After the millionth time of hitting refresh, I decided to call it a night.
When I got into bed, I picked up my phone to call Stubbs, but then thought better of it. I didn’t want to look too clingy. I set my alarm and placed the phone on the bedside table. No sooner had I put it down than it started ringing. It was Stubbs.
“I’ve got a really good idea,” said Stubbs.
“Oh go on, then, let’s hear it,” I said rolling my eyes. I sat up straight and then snuggled back down into the pillows.
“Are you rolling you eyes, Dunham?” he said.
“No.”
“Good, you better not be. Anyway, as I was saying, how about instead of you attempting to make me go places that I hate and places that April will also hate…”
I winced when he said her name. The more time I spent with him, the less time I wanted him to spend time with April. It was selfish of me. I wanted Stubbs to be happy; he deserved his magic moment too. I was beginning to wonder what I wanted from Stubbs.
“…well how about I show you what kind of date I’d take April on and you can see if it, you know, meets with your approval or whatever?”
“I dunno,” I said. My voice caught in my throat a bit. I wanted to spend more time with Stubbs, particularly if I was leaving, but I didn’t want us to be talking about April all day, although I guessed that was kind of the point.
“Come on, it will be brilliant and you can tell me if I’m doing everything right.”
“Okay,” I said. “Shall I come to the club and meet you?”
“No, I’m coming to get you at nine in the morning,” he announced. I could almost hear him smirking. I took the phone away from my ear to look at the time now. Almost one.
“You’re joking aren’t you? What kind of date are you going to take me on at nine in the morning? You are a weirdo, Stubbs.”
“You’ll see,” he said and hung up.
Chapter Fourteen
Stubbs woke me up by ringing the intercom. I stumbled over to the window and pulled the curtains back and he was stood on the steps of the block with a bunch of flowers in one hand and coffees and what looked like breakfast in the other.
“McDonald’s?” I said, bleary-eyed in my dressing gown, taking the bags and the coffees from him.
“Yeah,” he said indignantly. “And flowers though.”
“From the garage?”
“Yeah from the garage. Obviously when I’m doing it for real, I’d go to the florist or something. This is just a dummy run isn’t it?”
“Cheers, anyway,” I said, sitting down in the living room and diving in for breakfast.
“I’d probably get a different breakfast as well. Pastries and croissants and all that stuff.”
“That would probably be good,” I mumbled with my mouth full.
“Nice to see you are ready on time,” he said.
“I don’t know what to wear. How am I meant to know what to wear when you won’t tell me where we’re going?”
“Well just go and get ready, and come back down, and I’ll tell you whether it’s suitable or not. That way I don’t have to spoil the surprise.”
“All right then,” I said, trying to run through my wardrobe in my head and selecting loads of different combinations.
“Hurry up then, we haven’t got all day.”
“Charming,” I said. “Hope you don’t start your date with April nagging her to hurry up.” I took a bite of my muffin and pulled a face at him.
“And I hope you don’t go on a date with anyone demonstrating your finishing school skills, like that. You’re gross, Cara Dunham.”
I took my coffee and went to choose something to wear. I wouldn’t normally dress up to go anywhere with Stubbs but I thought I’d show him I could look just as nice as April Webster. One look in the wardrobe made me wonder who I was trying to kid. I could never look as glamorous as April. I pulled out a pair of jeans and black stretchy top. It was slightly off the shoulder with a small bow on the left. Outfit sorted, I jumped into the shower, shouting questions at Stubbs while I was in there about where we were going, but he wouldn’t give anything away.
I shouted more questions at him while I was doing my make-up. I was taking a little bit more care than usual. It was a date after all and part of me wanted to see if I could make Stubbs look at me in a different way. I wondered if he could ever see me as more than just a mate.
“That’s perfect,” he said. “You might want to bring a towel.”
“What do I want a bloody towel for?” I said as I went off to fetch one.
“And maybe a swimming costume.”
“A bloody what? Excuse me what the…just what?”
Was he planning on taking me to a spa? Sounded like he was. And sounded just the sort of thing April would like, I reckoned. I felt sick at the thought of him spending the day with April, lounging around on chaises longues.
As we started to drive I thought maybe he was taking me to the new fancy day spa at the other end of town, but when he pulled out of the road he turned left, away from town, towards the motorway.
“And now, I thought we’d use the time constructively to educate you with some decent music.” He passed me his iPod with a lead dangling from it. There was a playlist on there called For Cara. I felt my whole body warm up. The heat rose up to my face and I beamed.
“What are you smiling at?” he said.
“Nothing,” I said. “It’s just nice you made me a mix tape.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “Do you reckon I should make April a mix tape if she agrees to go on a date with me?”
“No!” I said immediately surprised by my response. I didn’t want Stubbs making April anything.
“No?” he said while I fumbled for reasons to say why he shouldn’t. The
main reason being that I didn’t want him to make tapes for anyone apart from me but I didn’t want to tell him that. “Might make you look a bit keen,” I said.
“I am a bit keen,” he said. “I’m more than a bit keen, in fact.”
“And what about this photography job she was on about? Might be a bit unprofessional to ask someone out if you are working with them.”
Stubbs looked at me, but didn’t say anything for a moment. “Are you trying to put me off?” he asked.
“No, of course not,” I said before changing he subject. “Where are we going, Stubbs?”
“You’ll see.”
*
“Are we nearly there yet? We’ve been going for ages,” I asked Stubbs as we passed the services at Gloucester.
“Not much further,” he said. “Just time to play you the greatest track ever recorded. You’ll love it.”
“It sounds exactly the same as all the others you played me. If I were April, I would be bored to tears by now on this date.”
“Well, obviously, I wouldn’t play all of these to April. This is just for you. I’m trying to help you to be cool, remember.”
“The ball is so close now and I won’t have time to blag my way into being cool. Oh wait, I know this one.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s in Pretty in Pink,” I said excitedly. “I love this one. And it’s the scene where…”
Stubbs laughed.
“Why are you laughing?” I said.
“It’s because I just saw you get excited about music. I mean actual decent music for the first time ever.”
“I’m not excited about the music. I’m excited about the film. I’m only excited because the music reminds me of a film.”
“That’s kind of how it works.”
“It is?”
“Yeah, for loads of people. They love music because it reminds them of a particular time – though in most cases it’s probably something real that the music makes them think of. So you’re nearly there.”
“Good to know. I’m turning it off now.” I flicked the radio on and found a channel playing cheesy pop songs. Just the sort of music I didn’t mind. I didn’t want anything that made me think about the other night at Stubbs’s place. I started singing because I knew it would annoy Stubbs, and eventually he joined in and for the next half an hour or so, we sang along to all the cheesiest nineties pop songs. All of Stubbs’s credibility was out of the window and I felt like myself again, without having to try and pretend I liked something.
Once we had passed Bristol, I had an idea of where Stubbs might be taking me and shortly after we pulled off the motorway and saw the signs to Weston. In the town centre, Stubbs drove towards the beach and past the pier towards the marina lake at Knightstone Island. It was so thoughtful of Stubbs to take me here. It was one of the trips at school that we had missed out on and now we were getting to share it together. I think I preferred it this way; I got to appreciate it more and I had Stubbs all to myself.
He parked near the tea rooms, right by the beach, and got out of the car. I thought he was coming round to open my door for me, which would have been a very gentlemanly and date-y type thing to do, but he was actually just going to put some coins in the pay and display machine. When he got back in the car, he reached over to the back seat and from under a blanket, pulled out one of those fancy picnic baskets.
“Come on then,” he said. He was impressed with himself because he could tell I was impressed with him. “What are you waiting for?”
Even though he didn’t open the door, he waited for me and held an arm out to escort me down the few little steps onto the beach.
There was hardly anyone on the beach even though it was a bright sunny day, just a few dog walkers and a couple of families with children young enough not to mind the chilly water who splashed and chased around in the bay.
Stubbs spread the picnic blanket out and gestured for me to sit. I sat down, shielded my eyes from the sun and looked across the sparkling water. Stubbs sat down right next to me and pulled the picnic basket towards us. Then opened it with a flourish.
“Ta-dah,” he said.
I peeped over and had a look inside.
“Is that it?” I said. Inside there wasn’t any food at all. It was one of those picnic sets that had all the plates and cutlery in it, but not a lot else.
“Is there any actual food in there?” I said.
“Well no, but this is a dummy run isn’t it. Obviously I’ll get food on the actual date, I just thought we could get a bag of fish and chips or something. You always say you can’t go to the seaside without having fish and chips.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Go and get some then.”
Stubbs fetched the chips and, wanting to use his new picnic basket, insisted on us eating them on the plates using the knives and forks. He even made me use one of the checked napkins.
I kicked my sandals off and let them hang over the edge of the picnic blanket. “Don’t suppose there’s a bottle of champagne in here is there?” I said peeking in the basket.
“No but I got you a can of Irn-Bru,” he said, producing it from the chip shop carrier bag. I took the drink from him.
“Perfect.” I said. And it kind of was.
We ate in silence, the most delicious fish and chips with the crispiest batter. I was savouring the view. An older couple arrived on the beach and stripped down to their bathing costumes and braved what I assumed to be very cold water. They swam across to the other side of the marina and back. I smiled at Stubbs and he smiled back at me.
A young family paddled just in front of us, the baby’s nappy sodden with mud from the gunky bottom of the marine lake. A mischievous beagle attempted to pull Stubbs’s fish and chip paper away from him until its owner came shouting at the dog and apologising profusely to us. When we had finished eating, I bundled up my cardigan on top of my bag to use as a pillow and stretched backwards.
Stubbs did the same with his hooded tracksuit top. His hand brushed mine as he lay down, which made my spine tingle and I pulled away embarrassed.
“Hey, I’m not April, remember. No need to try and hold my hand, you know.”
“Sorry,” he said. “It was just an accident. I didn’t mean to…”
“Oh you shut your face,” I said. And took his hand in mine and swung it up into the air like a child might do. “Look, I know you want to hold my hand and be bestest friends with me.”
“Yeah,” he said, flipping his sunglasses down onto his face. “I do.”
“Good,” I said. “Now shut up.”
Which he did for a moment before saying, “Your hands are greasy.”
“What?” I said, as I started to drop off to sleep.
“From the fish and chips, and they are all sandy.”
“Sod off then,” I said pulling my hand away.
He yanked my hand back and pulled it close to him, holding it on his chest.
“I like it really,” he said, keeping my hand there, which meant my elbow was at an angle it really shouldn’t have been and I was possibly the most uncomfortable I have ever been in my life. But at the same time, it felt just right.
We dozed for a while. When Stubbs prodded me to wake me up, I turned to him.
“So,” he said leaning in nearer to me. “Fancy moving on to the next part of the date then?”
“No,” I said, moving my arm away from Stubbs and flexing my elbow. “I am quite comfortable here. Let’s stay a bit longer.” I was so happy here, away from Broad Hampton, no jobs to apply for or imminent unemployment or ticket sales to worry about. Just me and Stubbs in our own little bubble.
“Come on.” He jumped to his feet, took my hand again and yanked me up as I groaned.
Stubbs walked us towards the pier, past the holidaymakers crabbing over the sea wall, and the shops selling candyfloss and sticks of rock.
“I feel like I’m on holiday,” I said. “I wish we were staying the night.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, then it would be like a proper holiday and we could sit over there on that hotel terrace and drink beers all night.”
“Let’s do it then!” he said pointing to the hotels along the front. “Look, they’ve all got vacancies.”
“I can’t,” I said, suddenly panicked. “I have to…”
“You have to what?”
“I have loads of stuff to do for the event and I said I’d meet Verity…” I couldn’t stay here overnight with Stubbs anyway even if I didn’t have the cinema stuff to do. And here, in this idyllic place, just the two of us, my feelings for him were starting to overwhelm me. If I stayed the night here with him, it would all be too much. I simultaneously wanted to run away from here and also to stay the night. I didn’t want this bubble to burst, but it was all so complicated. Stubbs liked April and I desperately wanted to impress Daniel. Stubbs seemed so intoxicated by April, I didn’t think he’d have any room for me and yet here he was asking if I wanted to stay the night. How did he mean it? That we spend the night here as friends? I couldn’t be sure.
“We’ll just leave it then; it was just a thought,” he said.
“No, I mean it would be great, it’s just I have to get back.”
“Forget it,” he said. “Some other time.”
I nodded, but knew that there probably wouldn’t be another time. Stubbs didn’t need me to turn him into something else for April; she’d like him just the way he was. Just like I did.
“Want some candyfloss?” he said as we turned onto the Grand Pier.
“No, I’m stuffed from the chips.”
“Go on…” he said and reached up and grabbed a bag of candyfloss. Perfect, I would now have sugary sticky hands to add to the greasiness. I wiped my greasy fingers on my jeans to minimise the damage. It was ridiculous to think I could be cool.
As we reached the amusements on the pier, Stubbs decided he was going to win me a giant teddy bear from one of those giant grabbing machines. Probably because it was the sort of thing that April would love.
“Watch this,” Stubbs said, putting money in a machine.
“No one ever wins on those things,” I said.
“Have a bit of faith. Although I’ve got as much chance of winning that as I have…” He trailed off.
