A Bicycle Made For Two

by Mary Jayne Baker

  He jumped as a knock sounded at the hall door.

  ‘Cazzo, he’s bloody early!’ he hissed. ‘Stall him, Lana! If he sees me without socks I’ll lose all mystique before we’ve even gone out.’ He darted to his underwear drawer and started chucking out the contents in search of that elusive beast, the matching pair.

  ‘Hi,’ I said when I’d opened the door to Cameron, who was looking every bit as nervous as Tom.

  ‘Hi. Um… is your brother playing out?’

  I smiled. ‘Yeah, he’ll be with you in a sec.’

  Flash picked that moment to come cannonballing into the hall and throw himself at Cameron, nearly knocking him back down the stairs. Cameron tickled his ears, laughing.

  ‘God, I’m so sorry!’ I said. ‘He’s just a baby, he’s still learning good manners.’ I wagged a finger at Flash. ‘Bad dog! You don’t jump up at people.’

  ‘Aww, no, he’s lovely.’ Cameron crouched down so Flash could give his cheek a bath. ‘Aren’t you, eh, little feller? What’s his name, Lana?’

  ‘Flash.’

  ‘Ah-ahhh.’

  I frowned. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Like the song, right?’ Cameron said, grinning. ‘You know, from that cheesy old film? Come on, you must sing that every time you call him.’

  ‘Well I’ll have to now. Cheers, mate, I’m going to look a right tit down the park singing Queen songs at a sheepdog.’

  There was the sound of a throat clearing behind my back, and I turned to find Tom blushing profusely in the doorway of his room. Cameron blinked, as if surprised to see him in something other than the usual t-shirt and jeans. Deano had certainly nailed the Cinderella effect.

  ‘Your date, I think,’ I said to Cameron. ‘Have fun tonight, lads. Come on, Flash.’

  I heard Cameron let out a last murmured ‘ah-ahhh’ as Tom followed him down the stairs.

  ***

  When I’d finished locking up the restaurant, I found Tom back from his date and halfway through a bottle of red wine, staring blankly at a documentary on the Amazon.

  ‘So, how was your evening?’ I asked, switching the telly off.

  He just groaned and took another gulp of wine.

  I plonked myself down next to him. ‘That bad, eh?’

  ‘Worse,’ he said. ‘God, I proper cocked it, sis. I did this embarrassing thing… oh God. I can’t even bear to say it.’

  ‘Go on, I bet it wasn’t that awful.’

  ‘You weren’t there. I was so nervous, I was jabbering any old rubbish. And he said… he said…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I asked about films he liked and he said something about the new Star Trek. And I was panicking what to say back, trying to think of something funny and flirty…’

  ‘Oh no. What was it?’

  He groaned and buried his head in his hands. ‘“Set phasers to stunning.”’

  ‘Sweet Jesus.’

  ‘I know, right? If he calls after that it’ll be a miracle.’

  I tried to rally. ‘Maybe not. He might think it was cute. Everyone gets nervous on first dates.’

  ‘And exponentially camper?’

  I shrugged. ‘Sometimes. Look, did he walk out?’

  ‘No, he laughed. But he was just being polite.’

  ‘You’re paranoid, Tommy. Give him a ring tomorrow and see if he wants to go out again. I bet he’ll say yes.’

  ‘You must be joking! I’m entering a monastery tomorrow. Monks aren’t allowed mobiles, right?’

  ‘Well, you can’t get out of it. You’ll have to see him at the calendar shoot. In fact you might end up seeing quite a lot of him.’

  ‘Shit! I will, won’t I?’ His eyes went wide. ‘And he’ll see quite a lot of me. Oh my God. That’ll definitely be the end.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. I’m sure you’ve got the same bits as other blokes.’

  ‘I might not have. What if they’re the wrong shape or something? Oh God, what if I get them out and he cracks up laughing?’

  ‘Come on, you’ve seen others.’

  ‘Not for a while I haven’t. And I wasn’t paying that much attention to specifics, if I’m honest.’ He turned to look at me. ‘Hey, reckon I could get a second opinion?’

  ‘Don’t look at me, mate.’

  ‘Not you. Deano.’

  I frowned. ‘Seriously, you want to flop your tackle out for Deano? I’m not sure looking at his boss’s bits is covered in his staff contract, you know.’

  ‘Favour to a mate. I just need to know if I’m a hideous mutant or not, help me determine the level of lighting needed if I ever get up the nerve to bring Cameron home.’

  ‘God, you’d think you’d never taken your clothes off for a lad before.’

  ‘It’s different now. I’m older, I’ve got more dignity to lose,’ he said. ‘You think he would?’

  ‘Knowing him, yeah. Just make sure you ask him before you pop it out, that’s all. I don’t fancy getting hauled off to an employment tribunal because you’ve been flashing the chef.’

  Chapter 17

  I was propped on my elbow at the restaurant’s front desk one exceptionally quiet Thursday when Gerry came in, a blank, distracted look in his eyes.

  ‘God, you’re not a customer, are you?’ I said. ‘Not sure I remember how to deal with them.’

  ‘You have to say “Welcome to Here Be Flagons” and ask what name I booked under.’

  ‘Yeah, all right, Gerry, I was actually joking. So are you? There’s probably some of your sheep in the mutton pie if you fancy getting your teeth into a few old friends.’

  ‘No,’ he said, still with the strange, distant stare. ‘Came to tell you about booking the Temp for the calendar shoot. Roger the Cabin Boy says we can have it a week Saturday.’

  ‘Please don’t call him that, it’s disturbing. Will he be there to unlock it or do we need to fetch the key?’

  ‘He’ll unlock it.’ He gazed over my shoulder. ‘And he wants to be Mr August.’

  ‘You’re kidding me!’

  ‘Wish I were. I’ve managed to live all my life in this village without seeing what should be for Mrs Collingwood’s eyes only. Wouldn’t have minded making it to retirement before he started popping the old chap out for everyone to have a look at.’

  ‘Bloody hell, it’s rife,’ I muttered, thinking about Tom. ‘What did you tell him?’

  He shrugged. ‘What could I tell him, when he knows we’re all doing it? Had to agree, didn’t I?’

  ‘Holy Christ.’ I summoned up an image of Roger in my mind’s eye: white-haired, respectable Roger in his military-style band uniform. Then I tried to imagine the uniform away. My eyes went wide with horror.

  The weirdest thing was, he was still holding his baton.

  ‘Anyway, the missus sent me to ask if you can recruit anyone,’ Gerry said. ‘We still need another three models, assuming McLean can get this sauce lad, plus a photographer. Ideally lasses, if there’s any you can ask. We’ve got half as many as blokes.’

  I pondered for a minute. ‘Well, Jasmine’s too young and I know Deb wouldn’t do it. I can ask Deano.’

  ‘That’s one. Anyone else?’

  ‘Not that I can think of. Maybe Yo-yo can summon up a few lady-shaped people from the WI. Why don’t you pop in and ask her on your way home?’

  His eyes widened. ‘What, go to Yo-yo’s by myself?’

  I laughed. ‘You want to borrow some mace spray?’

  ‘Actually, think I’ll ring. Don’t want Sue getting the wrong idea. Bye, love.’

  He gave me a kiss on the cheek and turned to leave. Once he’d disappeared I headed to the kitchen to swap with Jasmine.

  ‘Roast hog out in ten minutes,’ Deano was saying as they bustled about.

  ‘Yes, Chef.’

  ‘Not a second longer
or it’ll be too dry.’

  He looked up when Jasmine didn’t answer. ‘Did you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, Chef. Not a second too long.’

  I shook my head at him. ‘Can you stop making her call you that? You’re not Gordon Ramsay.’

  He tilted his nose. ‘It helps maintain a respectful distance between chef and staff.’

  ‘It helps maintain your ego.’ I smiled at Jasmine. ‘Go on, love, you’ve done your time in hell’s kitchen. I’ll take over.’

  She looked at Deano and blushed slightly. ‘I don’t mind doing a bit longer.’

  ‘No, swap with Lana. I fancy a change in company,’ Deano said without looking up.

  Jasmine’s face crumpled, and I gave Deano a subtle nudge. He glanced up.

  ‘Good work tonight though, kid.’

  The teenager’s blush deepened. ‘Thanks, Chef.’

  ‘Well, if you’re off duty you can call me Deano. Or The Shagmeister, whichever takes your fancy.’

  Jasmine looked uncertain for a moment.

  ‘Joke, Jaz,’ Deano said patiently.

  ‘Oh. Right. Bye then.’ Still blushing, she left the kitchen.

  ‘You’ll have to do something about her,’ I said to Deano when we were alone.

  ‘Why, what’s up with her?’ he said absently, peering into the cooker to check his roast.

  ‘Obvious, isn’t it? She fancies you.’

  He looked up with a surprised expression. ‘The girl? Don’t be daft, she’s a little child.’

  ‘She’s 17, Deano. Not that much younger than you.’

  ‘Yeah, if I had Yo-yo Sommerville’s tastes.’

  ‘Seven years isn’t a lot really.’

  ‘If we were ten years older it mightn’t be. There’s a massive gap between 24 and 17.’ He nodded to Jasmine’s shoulder bag, sitting under one of the work surfaces. ‘Take a look at what she’s written on that.’

  I crouched down to look. ‘JH hearts HS. Who’s HS, someone from college?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nope. Harry Styles. You know, your lad from One Direction? She told me she’s got a poster of him she kisses every night before bed. Probably trying to make me jealous.’

  ‘Ok, ok, point made,’ I said, standing up again. ‘What’re you going to do about it then?’

  ‘What can I do? Not exactly leading her on, am I?’

  ‘No, you’re mean as fuck when you’re working.’

  ‘Thanks. I try.’

  I shook my head in sympathy. ‘Poor lass. Well, I’ll try to move shifts around so she’s in the kitchen as little as possible. It’s a bit awkward when she’s too young to go on bar but I’ll sort something.’

  Deano nodded. ‘Probably for the best.’ He grinned. ‘So now I’ll get more of lovely age-appropriate Lana in my kitchen, won’t I?’

  ‘Or lovely age-appropriate Tom.’

  He shrugged. ‘Any port in a storm.’

  He took his joint out of the oven and inhaled the steam coming off the juices deeply, like a muppet-haired Bisto kid.

  ‘Smell that, Lana. I’m a bloody genius.’

  ‘It does smell good.’ I sighed. ‘Shame there’re so few customers to appreciate it.’

  ‘Well, more for us. You and Flash can have some for your tea.’ He grabbed a ladle and started spooning off the juice to make gravy. ‘So how’s your Tour de France thingy going then?’

  ‘Oh yeah, something I need to ask you actually.’

  ‘Shoot.’

  ‘Stewart’s arranged for the Tour people to visit next month and we thought we’d put a buffet on here. Just a few things to get their tastebuds going. Can I count on you?’

  ‘Am I getting paid?’

  ‘No, sorry. This is a favour. Expenses only.’

  ‘Well, since it’s you,’ he said. ‘Don’t get used to it though.’

  I slapped his arm gratefully. ‘Thanks, Deano, you’re a good mate. Oh, there was one other thing.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Will you come down the temp a week Saturday and take all your clothes off?’

  A lesser man might’ve been shocked, but this was Deano. He didn’t even look up from his gravy.

  ‘For this calendar thing Tom was telling me about?’

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘Yeah, why not?’

  ‘The men I know are not normal,’ I muttered.

  ‘One condition though,’ he said, glancing up to make eye contact. ‘I want to be artistic director as well. Always fancied working with live nudes.’

  ‘I bet you have.’

  ‘Go on, Lana, I’ll be awesome. And I’ll bring the props and everything. Like you said, I’m our resident perfectionist.’

  ‘You’re our resident control freak.’

  He shrugged. ‘You say tomato…’

  The door swung open and Jasmine came back in.

  ‘How’s the roast? Table Eight have been waiting 20 minutes.’

  ‘Coming up,’ Deano said. ‘You can’t rush genius, child.’ He nudged me. ‘Hey, Lana. Have you got a photographer for next Saturday?’

  ‘Not yet, why?’

  ‘Jaz is doing A-Level photography. A charity nude calendar would be great for her portfolio.’

  ‘We can’t ask Jasmine.’

  ‘Why not?’ Jasmine said, looking offended. ‘I’m not bad, you know.’

  ‘Well, you’re a…’ I paused. ‘You’re a young adult,’ I said after a second. ‘And we’re all crusty old fogies. Wouldn’t you be embarrassed?’

  She laughed as if the idea was absurd. ‘Course not, it’s only nudity. We have life models in class all the time.’

  ‘Do you? God, school’s changed since my day.’

  ‘Did they have cameras back in the seventies though?’

  ‘Ha! Funny girl. Get back to work.’

  She grinned and grabbed the tray of gravy-sloshed hog Deano had served up. ‘Think about it though? I’ll do a fab job, Lana, honest.’

  ‘All right, all right, I’ll think about it. Go on, take that out before Table Eight starve to death.’

  ‘What did you go and do that for?’ I hissed when she’d gone. ‘Inviting her to take pics of you in your birthday suit is hardly the best way to cure her of a crush.’

  ‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me naked.’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘Scary, is it?’

  ‘More… intimidating,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘Seriously though, Deano. You can’t think this’ll help.’

  He patted my bum reassuringly. ‘Don’t you worry, Lanasaurus, all part of my plan. She’s a kid, it’s all windswept kisses and true love when you’re that age. Once someone gets their clothes off, all the mystery evaporates. I bet even Harry Styles looks a right prat with the old meat and two veg swinging about between his legs.’

  I curled my lip. ‘Yeah. Actually, could you forget about saving me any hog? Sudden loss of appetite.’

  ***

  ‘Right, that’s your lot, sugarplum,’ Deano said at the end of the night, pulling off his stripy apron. ‘Think you can switch everything off here while I change out of my whites?’

  ‘Yeah, go on. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  It took me 15 minutes to put away the ingredients and turn off the equipment. By the time I emerged, the restaurant was dark except for the always-on Fire Exit signs, their green glow bouncing menacingly off Galahad, the decorative suit of armour we kept propped in a comedy position at the bar.

  ‘Tom?’ I called.

  No answer. He must’ve gone up to bed.

  I popped into the Ladies to check the light was off, then knocked gently on the door of the Gents to make sure Deano was definitely gone. There was no reply, so I shouldered it open and barged in.

  I was met by Tom�
�s back. He was facing away from me holding his waistband out with both thumbs, Deano peering curiously into his pants at the contents.

  ‘Looks perfectly normal to me, mate,’ Deano was saying.

  ‘Does yours look like that then?’

  ‘Yeah, give or take. There aren’t really that many different models, know what I mean?’

  ‘And you’re 100 per cent positive he won’t laugh?’

  I cleared my throat, and the two men jumped. Tom’s waistband bounced back into place with a comedy twang.

  ‘What, if he hears about you getting it out in restaurants for the chef to have a look at?’ I said. ‘He’ll laugh or scream, one or the other.’

  ‘Busted,’ Deano muttered.

  Tom frowned. ‘Oi. Can’t you read, sis? This is a private gentlemen’s room. For gentlemen.’

  ‘And yet there’s only you two oiks here.’ I glared at Deano. ‘What did you think you were doing?’

  He shrugged. ‘Looking at Tom’s knob.’

  ‘I could see that. I meant, what for?’

  ‘Well, because he asked me to. He is half the boss, you know.’ He glanced down at my breasts. ‘Always happy to extend you the same courtesy, by the way.’

  ‘I bet.’ I jerked my head towards the door. ‘Go on, bugger off home.’

  Deano shot me a last grin as he left.

  ‘When you said you were going to ask him, I didn’t think you meant at work!’ I hissed to Tom. ‘What if a customer had come in?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, we’re closed. The last one left half an hour ago.’

  ‘So are you happy now?’

  ‘Dunno. It was kind of reassuring. But then it might look weird when I’ve got the rest of my kit off, might it?’

  ‘It’s meant to look like that though. All boys look weird with their clothes off.’

  Tom snorted. ‘Ta very much. Like your lot look so great.’

  ‘Well, you’ll find out what Cameron thinks a week Saturday.’ I hooked my arm through his and guided him out of the loo. ‘Gerry’s booked the Temp for us. It’s hammertime, Tommy.’

  Chapter 18

  With a bathrobe under my arm and my heart in my ears, I walked with Deano and Tom to the Temp for the calendar shoot.