The Single Girl’s Calendar

by Erin Green

She soon returned.

  ‘We’ll be a few minutes, so please don’t leave,’ said Esmé through the open window to the driver.

  ‘I’m not staying without cash in my hand to stay put, love. I’ve had too many youngsters like you rip me off. The clock says eight pounds sixty already…’

  ‘You said…’ said Esmé.

  ‘It’s Friday night, love, I can’t afford to wait for a crazy girl with flowers, OK?’

  ‘Here,’ Asa thrust a twenty pound note at him. ‘Now, sit quiet, we’ll be back in five or ten, then I’ll have my change back depending what’s on the clock. Sorted?’

  The taxi driver snatched the money and sat holding the purple note.

  ‘Thank you.’ Esmé began to move the flowers to the bottom of the railings, as Asa followed suit.

  ‘You’re paying me back, right?’

  ‘You thought I wouldn’t pay you back?’ she snapped, lugging another arrangement across the pavement.

  Asa raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence but I. Always. Pay. Back.’

  ‘OK, don’t lose the plot over a loan,’ sniped Asa, clearly wishing he’d stayed at home.

  ‘Where are we? And what’s the plan?’

  ‘To deliver these to the empty graves,’ said Asa proudly, pointing at the green railings.

  ‘A graveyard!’

  ‘Yep, a very old graveyard where, if you look carefully, you’ll notice there are no flowers.’

  Esmé peered through the railings at the rows of lichen covered headstones, the stone angels, crosses and scribed open books, the twisted trees and even the smattering of litter blown amongst the graves. This was easily her worst nightmare. Esmé didn’t watch horror films as the ghosts, ghouls and cobwebs spooked the hell out of her for weeks afterwards.

  But Asa was right, from where they stood, there wasn’t a single flower in sight, just wisps of overgrown grass between the monuments.

  ‘I thought graveyards closed.’

  ‘They do.’ Asa pointed further along to the elaborate gates and their swatch of chains and bulky locks.

  ‘So how are we getting inside?’

  ‘We’re going over,’ said Asa, looking up and down the street.

  Esmé stood staring between the carpet of flowers and the locked gates, her mouth open wide.

  ‘Can I remind you the meter is still running,’ said Asa, noticing her indecision.

  ‘I really don’t know about—’

  ‘Well, I do… live a little, babe,’ Asa approached the railings and launched himself athletically over them in one bound, landing lightly on the other side. ‘Quick now, pass me some flowers.’

  Esmé quickly handed him the arrangements. Asa plonked them down on the other side until they were all behind the railings.

  ‘Give me a hand getting over?’

  ‘No, stay there. I’ll be quicker on my own.’

  ‘No. These are my flowers, not yours, Asa!’

  His name sounded foreign in her mouth.

  Asa paused.

  ‘Bloody women, here, give me your hand,’ muttered Asa, offering his.

  Esmé grasped his hand and lifted her leg as high as her tight jeans would allow. The denim cut into the top of her thigh. Her slip-ons slipped on the metal railings.

  ‘Hurry up.’

  ‘Oy! I’m trying, don’t mock,’ said Esmé, trying to hoist herself over the railings without causing herself physical damage.

  Asa took hold of her under the arms, like a child, and dragged her over in an ungainly fashion that she wasn’t expecting. Esmé landed safely on the ground beside him.

  ‘Thank you, I think.’

  Esmé could see the taxi driver shaking his head.

  ‘Now where?’ she asked.

  ‘Anywhere… the graveyard is so old nobody has flowers, which makes it seem forgotten and unloved,’ said Asa, pointing to the nearest selection of tilted graves.

  Both chose an arrangement and headed off, then went to and fro with the rest of the displays. The moon was bold in the night sky, offering just enough light to see by.

  Esmé looked around at the aged graves, the lingering shadows and low hanging branches, all that was missing was a dense mist. Her heart beat remained fairly rapid but the scene was beautiful and the atmosphere restful. How peaceful to lie here for eternity, asleep amongst the ivy and yew trees.

  This wasn’t as scary as she’d imagined.

  In a matter of minutes, Esmé and Asa had run around the graves in a very haphazard manner, tripping over branches and grave edgings, and distributed all the flowers.

  ‘This feels like some freaky Halloween style horror stunt,’ said Esmé, standing back to admire their handiwork.

  The gravestones were still tilted and toppled but now a breath of colour was dotted here and there.

  ‘Are we done?’ asked Asa, as he wiped his soil stained hands down his trousers.

  ‘Done. Give me a leg up and we’re on our way home.’

  They jogged to the green railings over which they had jumped, and viewed the black outline of their waiting cab. Behind it stood a police car.

  ‘Shit!’ hissed Esmé. ‘We’re in for it now.’

  One officer was out of the car, waving his torch light over the graveyard railings, awaiting their return to the cab. The other officer was sitting in the patrol car’s driving seat.

  ‘And can I ask what you are doing in the graveyard at this time of night?’ his voice was deep and loaded.

  Asa helped Esmé over the railings before climbing over himself.

  ‘Officer, you won’t believe us, but I’ll give it a go,’ said Asa.

  ‘Oy, why do you always butt in?’ snapped Esmé at Asa. ‘I’ll explain.’

  ‘Be my guest.’ Asa waved a hand towards the officer and stepped aside.

  Esmé stuttered and stammered her way through a detailed explanation, the police officer stood listening intently, while the taxi driver became agitated.

  ‘My meter’s still running here, seventeen pounds thirty,’ he called.

  On completion, the officer simply stared at her.

  Esmé held her breath. Asa dug both hands into his pockets.

  ‘So, you’re telling me you’ve scattered flowers around the graveyard in an attempt to be kind and generous at this time of night?’

  ‘Yep. It was his idea but my flowers,’ said Esmé, beaming with pride.

  ‘Stay here, I need to see this.’ The officer walked along the railings and peered over to view the graves by torchlight. Esmé watched him with bated breath.

  ‘Can you cut out all the detail next time,’ said Asa to Esmé, as they watched PC Plod do his thing. The officer put his radio to his mouth and spoke numerous times before returning.

  ‘A nice gesture but I need your details, we’ve had numerous reports of vandalism over recent weeks and we’d like a little more information.’

  ‘Surely not,’ moaned Esmé.

  ‘Oy, my meter’s at twenty pounds and ten pence,’ shouted the taxi driver.

  Asa poked his head inside the open rear door.

  ‘Sorted then, because it looks like we’ve got a new ride.’ Asa slammed the taxi door and the cab swiftly pulled away.

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’ said the officer, indicating the rear of his vehicle.

  ‘Now look what you’ve caused?’ moaned Esmé.

  ‘Me? You’ve got a nerve, blaming me. You wanted to explain, you shut me down when I tried.’

  Esmé began to cry as they settled in the rear of the patrol car.

  ‘Great, because that’s going to help immensely,’ muttered Asa as the patrol car pulled away from the graveyard.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘A caution, how embarrassing?’ stuttered Esmé, as they returned home, walking the dark streets of the city. ‘I could die with embarrassment.’

  ‘You don’t say? I’d never have guessed given that you’ve only mentioned it a million times between the cop shop and here,’ s
aid Asa, stopping in the middle of the pavement. ‘This is one mighty fine Friday, I can tell you.’

  ‘Sorry, you shouldn’t have volunteered then,’ sniped Esmé, stopping and turning to look at him.

  ‘I thought I was doing a good deed,’ said Asa, ‘Next time, I won’t bother.’

  ‘Who for? Me?’

  ‘For the dead, actually?’

  ‘The dead!’

  ‘Women.’

  ‘Oy, your mother wouldn’t be proud of hearing you say that.’

  ‘My mother’s proud of everything I do.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’

  ‘I doubt it very much… given the state of your…’ the final word disappeared and crawled towards the gutter.

  ‘Given what…?’

  ‘Nothing,’ muttered Esmé, a growing sense of shame bubbling within.

  Silence enveloped them.

  Esmé wondered why he grated on her nerves so much. Was it that he knew everything? Or that he bragged and boasted about himself? Who had that much confidence or ego?

  ‘She’s dead by the way,’ said Asa, breaking the silence.

  ‘Who is?’

  ‘My mother.’

  Esmé stopped walking and stared.

  ‘Asa!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You can’t say it like that.’

  ‘I can. She’s dead.’

  Esmé regained her stride and jogged to catch him up.

  ‘Asa?’

  ‘Stop bugging me, she was my mother, I can say it how I like.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘But nothing, you’re being overly sensitive about something that has no connection to you, so why the sad face?’

  Esmé swallowed the lump in her throat. They continued in silence, while Esmé tried to figure out what to say and how to say it. Asa simply studied the stars.

  Minutes passed by.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Your mum.’

  ‘Are you still on that one?’ he laughed. ‘Move on, I have.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘It takes time but…’

  ‘No, how did she die?’

  ‘In a fire.’

  His voice changed partway through his sentence. His tone recovered in less than a heartbeat, it was a miniscule change but Esmé heard it.

  ‘That’s awful, how old was she?’

  ‘Thirty-four…’

  ‘That’s no age,’ said Esmé, adding. ‘That’s shocking… like me dying in five years’ time.’

  ‘You need to start living a little then, don’t you, because it could be over before you know it?’

  ‘I do believe, I’ve had a pretty busy week…’ Esmé stopped, before adding. ‘You’ve got a cheek, you know that.’

  Asa smiled.

  ‘Fancy popping for a drink, given that it’s Friday night?’

  ‘Around here?’ Esmé looked at the back street area which they nipped down a few minutes ago and doubted there was anything near.

  ‘There’s a decent boozer round the corner,’ Asa pointed ahead. ‘You can say no.’

  ‘Why would I say no?’

  ‘Because…’ he pointed towards his tattooed face. ‘Some people are offended by such things.’

  ‘I haven’t a problem, it’s your face,’ she lied.

  ‘Some think that I must be a lout and a night out with me will end up in a police station…’

  ‘Aw well, done that.’

  ‘Excellent, come on then. The Shakespeare’s just along here.’ Asa walked towards the end of the road, heading for the corner. ‘That’s interesting, because I’m a decent judge of character and I seriously had you marked as one that would be sooooo bothered by tattoos.’

  ‘No,’ lied Esmé. He can read me like a book.

  *

  Asa led the way, pushing open the double doors into a traditional bar, decorated with coloured tiles and engraved glass. The happy atmosphere enveloped you on entering. The customers lined the length of the wooden bar, chatting to an elderly landlord who stood cleaning glasses. The bar staff dashed to and fro between the beer pumps and optics and the jukebox kept a trio of men busy scanning the tunes.

  ‘Evening, Sid,’ called Asa, as he settled on a bar stool. ‘What’s your poison?’

  Esmé eased herself onto the high bar stool with the usual elegance of those with short legs.

  ‘A JD and coke, please.’

  ‘Two JD and cokes, please Sid – doubles.’

  ‘This your regular haunt then?’ asked Esmé, looking around at the wooden alcoves where a mixture of singles and trios seated at the various tables cradled drinks.

  ‘Not really, yours?’

  ‘No. I’ve never been here before…’ retorted Esmé. On seeing Asa’s grin, she added ‘Oh, you’re pulling my leg again, I get it.’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s the thing, seriously, you don’t, do you? You pretend you get it all but… nothing really makes sense, does it?’

  The two drinks arrived and Asa handed a tenner in Sid’s direction.

  ‘Cheers, me dear.’ Asa snatched his drink and took a swig, before giving a huge sigh.

  Esmé gently sipped hers, the ice clinking in the glass.

  ‘What don’t I get?’

  ‘Life.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Nah. You’ve hardly lived. Your head is full of daydreams and you’re afraid of everything, even your own shadow.’

  Esmé ignored him.

  He doesn’t know me. I moved in one week ago. I could have been out with Roberto, the waiter, tonight being wined, dined and romanced, had I chosen to phone him.

  Esmé had kept his number safe, but it was only day nine since the break-up. She hadn’t cleared the apartment and her head was still muddled, why rush in and muddy the waters?

  ‘Now you’re ignoring me because I touched a nerve,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not. You think you know everything… you don’t.’

  ‘I know that despite just nine days away from the boyfriend you’ve got your hopes set on Jonah.’

  ‘Sod you,’ snapped Esmé. ‘He’s just a friend.’

  ‘You’re single, you can take your pick.’

  ‘You think you know people, well you can’t pigeonhole human nature, not everyone reacts as you assume.’

  ‘Really? Prove me wrong.’

  Esmé held her hands wide. ‘How?’

  ‘Go and put on a tune that people in here would react to, the choice is yours. Let’s see how well you read folk.’

  Esmé looked around the crowd, people of different ages and backgrounds filled the pub.

  ‘Go on, don’t dawdle…’

  Esmé jumped down from her stool and headed for the jukebox.

  Asa watched as she leaned against the plastic hub and flicked the selection pages, searching. She pumped her cash into the slot and walked back as frantic piano music filled the air. She evaded his gaze, climbed awkwardly back onto her stool and nonchalantly swigged her drink before acknowledging his company.

  ‘Meat Loaf?’

  Esmé shrugged.

  ‘Decent choice but nah! You think these punters listen to this?’ asked Asa, nodding towards the customers. ‘As I said, you’re not a very good judge of character. Watch!’

  Esmé watched a few individuals mime the odd line, tap a finger or two on the table. She had to admit there wasn’t a great reaction, not as she’d expected.

  ‘A nice chick like you… you should have gone with your first choice.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘You didn’t. You wanted to impress so you went with what you thought was the right choice, so you’ve crashed and burned.’

  ‘You know nothing about me and yet… what’s the point?’ Esmé fell silent.

  Asa smiled.

  ‘Please carry on, you were verging on interesting then. I’ll tell you… you, Esmé Peel, are a nothing person.’

  ‘I am not!’

  ‘You
are. You have no plans, no true dreams, nothing to look forward to… you wait around until something happens and then tag along until the next thing happens, filling your life with other people’s dreams and hopes.’

  Esmé was speechless, her mouth fell open. Asa smiled.

  ‘Prove me wrong. Did you have plans for tonight?’

  ‘No, but I could have had a date, if I’d called him. Anyway, neither did you by the looks of it.’

  ‘I had plans. I always have plans. I had a sleep this afternoon because I was meeting friends from work at around eleven and heading for a club. My plans changed once I realised you needed a hand.’

  ‘You can still go,’ said Esmé, injured by his accusation.

  ‘Given that it is half eleven now… they’ll know to go ahead without me.’

  ‘Yeah right, friends from work… who really has friends at work they go clubbing with?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘You’re lucky then, apart from two, mine are simply colleagues that just happen to work where I do. Where do you work then?’

  Asa paused.

  ‘The hospital. I told you that at the house meeting.’

  ‘Sorry. You did.’

  ‘You looked surprised then, and now.’

  ‘It’s that with that…’ she pointed to her cheek. ‘I didn’t think they’d employ you… doesn’t it scare the patients?’

  ‘No, just you, by the sounds of it. See, I knew you were uncool with the whole thing,’ he said, adding. ‘I’m not a porter, kitchen or laundry staff either if you’re trying to suss out which department – all feasible roles for someone with a facial tattoo.’

  ‘Let’s face it, it just isn’t normal, is it?’

  ‘You mention face every time I am around.’

  ‘I can’t help it, it’s like that ‘don’t mention the elephant in the room…’ you’re OK till it’s mentioned then it’s all you can think about.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Not like that!’ Esmé’s annoyance was growing. Was he playing with her or was this his usual style?

  ‘I’m kidding you.’

  A lengthy silence occurred.

  ‘Was that lover boy that turned up the other night?’

  ‘Ex-lover boy. Actually, thank you for the other night, I did mean to say the next morning but…’

  ‘You slipped out really early – I figured you avoided us all on purpose.’ Asa sipped his drink. Esmé stared at his side profile. Her eyes followed the contours of the blue and green, wispy lines, shading, colour and shadows.