It's a Wonderful Night

by Jaimie Admans

  Leo steps out behind me and pulls the door closed and I give Maggie a wave through the window as he holds the huge umbrella over both of us.

  ‘I didn’t mean to get her making mince pies too,’ I say. ‘I don’t want her to go to any trouble for me. I’m sure she works hard enough as it is.’

  ‘Don’t worry, she loves baking and it’s December, she’ll be making them for all the family anyway. And you don’t have to like them. I’ll happily scoff anything you don’t want and you can go on in your narrow-minded tradition-hating anti-Brit Christmas forever.’

  ‘Says the man with no Christmas decorations up.’

  ‘Even the street isn’t decorated anymore. I don’t think one shop will make much of a difference, do you?’

  ‘It might attract more customers. When they’re cold and wet and tired and it’s dark outside and they see the warm glow of your fire and the twinkling lights, it’s going to draw people in.’

  ‘Well, the warm glow of the fire will just have to work alone this year.’

  Huge drops of rain are splashing down on the umbrella and water is running in rivulets along the gutters, and I can’t believe Leo is so caring that he’d willingly come out in this just to save me getting wet.

  ‘It’s miserable, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say as we walk in the middle of the road to avoid the puddles on the pavements. There was a time when that would’ve been impossible because of the traffic, but now, there’s less chance of being run over by a passing car than there is of us coming face to face with a flying red-nosed reindeer. ‘It doesn’t really get any brighter on the high street though, does it?’

  ‘Tell me about it.’ He turns around, spinning the umbrella as he moves to make sure we both stay dry, walking backwards as he looks at the shops behind us, not even worrying about tripping over. ‘This place used to be the life and soul of everything. I remember coming here at Christmas and feeling it pulsing with life, and light, and sound. Did you grow up here?’

  I nod.

  ‘Do you remember Christmases on Oakbarrow High Street? I was telling my niece what it used to be like and she thought I was pulling her leg.’

  ‘It was amazing, wasn’t it?’ I feel myself light up at the memory. ‘The lights, the decorations, the window displays. There were always carols playing and it always seemed to be snowing.’

  ‘And now look at it. Even Hawthorne’s, the one shop I thought would always be here. One look in that window would leave you convinced that Santa’s elves were working out the back.’

  I glance behind me in the direction he’s facing, at the sad old building next door to It’s A Wonderful Latte. It used to have bricks of the deepest burgundy, green fascia boards, and gold lettering. Now the bricks are sun-bleached to a dirty salmon pink, the green boards are grubby and cracked, and the gold lettering has faded beyond recognition. There’s moss spilling from the guttering and some form of black mould crawling out of every crack.

  ‘What’s it got to offer now?’ Leo says. ‘Graffitied windows and a solitary cobwebbed teddy bear looking out. It makes me sad every time I walk past it.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘What have we got left, eh? A coffee shop, a bank, a charity shop, a tanning shop, a television repair shop with an old CRT TV in the window to really attract modern day customers, and a lingerie shop called Aubergine.’ Leo laughs. ‘Aubergine. I mean, of all fruits and vegetables to name a lingerie shop after. It’s not even a distantly sexy vegetable, is it? Even cucumber has a vague phallic connotation, but aubergines? They’re not quite the first thing you’d associate with sexy lingerie, are they?’

  ‘Maybe she meant the colour, not the vegetable?’

  ‘Call it Deep Purple then. Even that’s sexier than Aubergine.’

  ‘You’ve clearly spent an abnormal amount of time thinking about this. You don’t strike me as a sexy lingerie type of guy. Do they do plunge bras in your size?’

  ‘I’ve never been in there,’ he says with a grin. ‘I just don’t get it. It makes me laugh because it’s so random. Why not Pomegranate, or Celery, or Granny Smith?’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t get much more seductive than Granny Smith, does it?’

  ‘See?’ he says. ‘You get it. Shops called Aubergine are a testament to Oakbarrow as it is now. It looks more like a brothel than a lingerie shop and its name doesn’t make a blind bit of sense. No wonder no one shops here anymore.’

  ‘Say what you want, but Aubergine are still open. Poorly named vegetable decisions or not, they’re still going when most other shops have closed.’

  ‘I reckon it’s a cover for a drug cartel or something. Maybe it is an actual brothel.’

  I raise an eyebrow and it makes him grin again. ‘So where are you? All this time we’ve known each other and I can’t believe I’ve never asked you where you work before.’

  I meet his eyes and try to keep a straight face. ‘Aubergine.’

  He stops walking so abruptly that he nearly falls over his own feet, and my shoulder knocks into his arm as his eyes flick between mine and my mouth.

  ‘I might believe you if you could keep a straight face.’ He grins. ‘Nice try, though. You nearly had me there.’

  I burst out laughing. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t resist.’

  ‘I’d have done the same.’ He knocks his shoulder into mine again, deliberately this time, and it makes a little shiver run up my spine. At last he turns around and walks forward again so he can see where he’s going. ‘Where are you really?’

  I go to answer and suddenly realize that I can’t. I hadn’t even considered that he might walk me to work. What on earth am I going to tell him? If I say One Light, he’s going to make the connection straight away.

  ‘The bank!’ I say as a moment of blind panic combines with a moment of inspiration. If I was a cartoon character, a lightbulb would’ve just pinged above my head.

  He laughs. ‘Well, if that isn’t life imitating art, I don’t know what is.’

  I look at him in confusion.

  ‘The real George Bailey worked at a bank too, didn’t he? Well, the Building and Loan, that’s close enough.’

  ‘Oh, right! Yes!’ I laugh but end up overcompensating and come across as marginally hysterical.

  ‘So was your career mapped out based on It’s a Wonderful Life or is that just coincidence?’

  I look at the One Light sign sticking out from the charity shop in front of us. ‘Just coincidence.’

  ‘Maybe fate has more of an It’s a Wonderful Life-shaped influence than you think.’

  ‘Yeah. Maybe.’ I bite my lip as I look at him. I don’t want this to end yet. I could stay here and talk to him all morning but we’re nearly at the door of the bank and if we get much closer, he’s going to expect me to go inside.

  ‘Well, thanks for walking me,’ I say breezily. ‘You should get back to your mum. See you tomorrow!’

  ‘It’s chucking it down. Go on, get someone to let you in, I’ll wait.’

  He’s too nice for his own good. And mine.

  I don’t work here and if I knock on the door, whoever answers is going to say exactly that. I peek in the window of the bank as I hesitate over what to do and see Casey setting out leaflets on one of the tables in the waiting area. Casey! My best friend, and now, a godsend. She’ll play along.

  I knock lightly on the door just in case anyone else comes to answer it.

  ‘George!’ she says, sounding surprised and confused in equal measure. ‘And Coffee Man.’

  Leo nods to her. ‘I’ve been called plenty worse than that.’

  ‘Hi, Casey!’ I say, wondering if anyone will notice my voice has suddenly gone up three octaves. ‘Just come to work! In the bank! Where I work!’

  ‘Right …’ Casey says slowly, her eyebrows rising up towards her hairline where her blonde hair is pulled back into a conservative bun.

  ‘Are you going to let me in before we need an ark out here?’

  ‘Of course,’ she says sm
oothly, stepping back and pulling the reinforced glass and sturdy metal door fully open. ‘Come into the bank where you work.’

  I knew I could rely on Casey.

  Leo shuffles forward until the huge umbrella is pressed right into the open doorway so I can go through without getting a drop of rain on me. As I turn to thank him, I don’t miss the way he’s looking up at the sign for One Light next door or the way his eyes have gone distant.

  ‘Thanks, Leo. You’re my knight in shining … coffee apron.’

  He looks back at me and blinks, looking like he was lost for a minute, then he pastes a smile back on his face, steps back and twirls the umbrella so raindrops spray from it in a perfect spiral. He does a curtsey. ‘Always a pleasure to serve you, Madame. And thanks for the coffee. Have a good day, lovely, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Hey, Leo?’ I say as he goes to walk away. When he turns back, I make a point of looking him in the eyes. ‘Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you every morning.’

  He gives me a sad smile. ‘I think you mean my coffee, but thanks.’

  I watch him walk away until he rounds the corner out of sight. ‘No, I mean you,’ I whisper to the empty street.

  That sad smile makes me realize how scarily wrong you can have someone. I thought I knew Leo. As well as you can know someone you chat to for two minutes a day, anyway. That’s two minutes a day, six days a week, for the past two and a half years. If you add it up, that’s quite a lot of time to spend talking to someone, and I still never knew. Leo would be the last person I would ever expect to be suffering with depression. It just goes to show that you never know what kind of battles people are fighting on the inside.

  And I know I have to do something. Leo needs customers. He needs to feel important to the town – as important as he makes me feel every morning. Leo is kind. I’ve seen him knock the price of a coffee down for an old man who’d gone to pay and found he didn’t have enough cash. I’ve seen him make a special batch of dairy-free muffins just so a vegan customer could have one. Every day I see him walking down the road towards the churchyard with a coffee and a bag of food for Bernard.

  Doesn’t he deserve some kindness in return?

  Chapter 3

  ‘All right, what’s wrong with him?’ Casey’s standing with her hands on her hips when I close the door and turn around.

  ‘What? Nothing!’

  ‘Another waif or stray? Are you going to put Kitekat out for that one too?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I say, even though Casey’s always moaning about me putting food out for the cats.

  ‘At least he’s handsomer than the old guy from the churchyard you insist on feeding and taking clothes to.’

  ‘Looks don’t really come into it when someone’s homeless, do they?’ I ask, mainly to distract her from asking me about Leo because she’s going to want to know why I’ve just walked into the bank and pretended to work here, and I can’t tell her the truth.

  ‘I’m not having this conversation again, George.’ She tucks a stray lock back into the bun that I know she hates having to hide her long hair in for work. ‘So, the guy from the coffee shop … homeless? Ill? Poor?’

  ‘None of the above. Just a nice guy.’

  ‘No such thing,’ she says without missing a beat. ‘What’s wrong with him? Other than the teeth?’

  ‘What’s wrong with his teeth? He’s got a lovely smile.’

  ‘Yeah, for Dracula. He’s got fangs!’

  ‘He’s got slightly sticky-out canines that do not look like fangs. They just make his smile wider. And he’s self-conscious of them so don’t go and offer to recommend a dentist in your usual abrasive way. He’s too scared of the dentist to look into getting them fixed.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit personal for a barista? How do you know so much about someone you buy coffee from?’

  ‘Because he’s friendly. He chats. And he’s never told me he’s self-conscious but you can tell from the way he smiles. And the dentist thing just came up, and let’s face it, it’s not like anyone actually likes the dentist, is it?’

  She raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

  ‘I talk to him, Case. Every day bar Sundays. He’s a lovely –’

  ‘Oh, spare me the “some men can be nice” spiel. Heartbreakers, the bloody lot of them. Led by, well, something bigger than their tiny brains.’

  ‘Ah, yes. “He who shall not be named unless it’s in an obituary for death by castration.” Not all men are going to be like him,’ I say. Casey hasn’t always been so intolerant of men. She used to believe in love and wanted to find a happily ever after. Until her ex-fiancé found several happy endings with several other women.

  ‘How can you still say that when the love of your life jumped on the first plane out of here when New York came calling?’

  ‘Who wouldn’t?’

  ‘You, Georgia. You wouldn’t. You chose to stay here instead of go off on an adventure with him.’

  ‘He wasn’t the love of my life, Case. And the only adventure would’ve been navigating around the airport for the first flight home.’

  She rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, well, you’ve been single for years now, so let’s get back to you and Mr Shining Knight in a fetching blue apron. If there was nothing wrong with him, he would’ve walked you to the door of the charity shop, about three steps further than this one, where you actually work. What’s going on? Why have I just breached our security rules to let a non-staff member in before opening time?’

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Things usually are with you.’ Casey purses her lips. ‘Well, at least he’s young and nice looking. Single?’

  ‘I have no idea. Not every man is a potential date, you know. It’s actually possible to be friends with a guy.’

  ‘Pah. Where’s the fun in that? If everyone had that attitude, we’d all be as miserable as I was when I was engaged. Sometimes you don’t need to get to the bottom of every teeny tiny feeling and fix a guy’s every problem. Sometimes you just need a damn good shag.’

  ‘Leo doesn’t need a good shag, he needs …’

  ‘Ooh, Leo. Good name. Brings to mind all sorts of DiCaprio-related goodness. Coffee Apron Guy is way hotter than DiCaprio though, even back in the Romeo and Juliet days, and that’s saying something. What does this Leo need and if you won’t give it to him, do I have permission to?’

  ‘No. And no. And if you want to help me or Leo, you can go and buy a coffee at lunchtime.’

  ‘He is homeless. I knew it. I suppose I need to buy him a hot meal too?’

  ‘No. Not everyone I know is “in need”. Leo’s just a friend. Without mentioning any part of this conversation, will you go and buy a coffee in It’s A Wonderful Latte at lunchtime? Please? For me?’

  She waggles an eyebrow. ‘No part of this conversation but I can mention my single colleague Georgia, right?’

  ‘No. No, no, no. Just a coffee. And no mention of me or where I work or don’t work. This doesn’t need to be bigger than it is. He makes really good coffees and they’re way cheaper and less sweet than the overpriced cups of liquid sugar you usually get from the big coffee chains. And tell all your colleagues to do the same, please?’

  ‘Here, you can tell them yourselves.’ She opens the security-locked door behind the counter and beckons me through to the back. ‘You’re late, aren’t you? When are you ever late, George? This Leo must be someone really special.’

  I shake my head, knowing Casey will be like a dog with a bone on this. ‘Just a guy I got chatting to. Makes good coffee. There’s nothing else to it.’

  ‘Well, it’s nice to see you chatting to a man your own age and not old ladies and homeless men.’

  ‘I work with old ladies. And I chat to one homeless guy because he’s a nice, interesting guy; being homeless doesn’t come into it.’

  ‘Oh look, speaking of old ladies, two of yours are standing in the car park and they don’t look happy about being out in this downpour.’
>
  ‘Morning Georgia.’ As we walk down the corridor connecting the back offices, Jerry, Casey’s boss, comes downstairs with a mug of tea in his hand. I prepare myself for a bollocking but he doesn’t even look surprised to see me. ‘Locked yourself out, eh?’

  ‘Er, something like that.’

  ‘She’s trying to impress a guy,’ Casey says for me. ‘He thinks she works here.’

  ‘Oooh, tell me more.’ Jerry clutches both hands around his mug and looks uncharacte‌ristically excited. ‘People can be funny about charity shops, can’t they? Fancies a banker type, does he?’

  ‘It’s really not like that –’

  ‘Feel free to use the bank as much as you want. I’ll let everyone know to stick with the story.’

  ‘You really don’t have to. This is already getting way out of hand –’

  ‘No trouble at all. My wife’s favourite ever gift is still that Royal Doulton vase you kept for me. I still get rewarded handsomely for that every time she catches sight of it on the mantelpiece. This is the least I can do. Come in whenever you want. Now, who are we looking out for?’

  I think about it. On one hand, this is a huge lie, but on the other hand, what else am I going to tell Leo? I’ve already made the mistake of telling him I work here; I can’t exactly go back on it now, can I? And the problem still stands. I cannot tell him I work for One Light because he’ll realize who I am. The bank is really convenient because it’s next door to One Light and we share a car park at the back with the other buildings in this part of the street. Our back doors are literally one step away from each other. It wouldn’t be too difficult to come in here if he happens to be watching like this morning, and walk through and out the back into the charity shop. And I’m determined to help Leo in some way. I’m going to become his friend whether he likes it or not. This doesn’t end at him walking me to work in a downpour …