The Story Collection: Volume One

by Matt Shaw

  “Ah!” he said. He knew there had to be a catch but he didn’t mind. He didn’t care. He was just glad that she stood by his side for all to see – even the older gentleman who was in the corner of the room giving a knowing smile and nudge to his wife who sat opposite him. Kirk took Tracy’s hand, “Your table awaits you.”

  Kirk pulled Tracy’s chair away from the table and beckoned for her to sit, which she duly did, before sitting opposite her – still with a beaming smile on his face.

  “You look great,” said Tracy admiring the black suit Kirk wore, “My very own James Bond.” Kirk smiled, it was exactly the look that he was going for. He knew she had a thing for James Bond. “So what’s the occasion?” asked Tracy as she looked around taking in the plush surroundings of the five-star restaurant.

  “Am I not allowed to treat my beautiful girlfriend from time to time?” he replied being careful to refer to her as ‘girlfriend’ and not fiancée.

  “No, it’s nice!”

  “Mind you, had I realised you were going to go and spend a small fortune, on a new outfit, I probably would have taken you to McDonalds or somewhere similar.”

  She blushed and played with her hair, something she always did when she was nervous, “Do you mind?”

  “No. You look beautiful,” he said as he put his hand on top of hers from across the table. He could always get lost in her striking eyes; the brightest green you could imagine shining like a perfect emerald.

  She turned away from him, “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me,” she said with a little nervous laughter although she loved the attention really.

  “I’m sorry I can’t help myself.”

  Tracy turned back to him, “I’m sorry I was going to wait but there’s something I need to tell you,” she said just as a waiter approached them.

  “Can I get you some drinks, sir?”

  “Yes, please,” said Kirk without looking away from Tracy, “can you bring over your best bottle of white wine please.”

  “Actually,” interrupted Tracy as she turned to the waiter, “I’ll have an orange squash please.”

  “You don’t want to join me for a glass of wine?” asked Kirk. She never normally turned the wine down – especially when he brought her to places such as this.

  Tracy looked at him with the biggest smile, “I was going to wait to tell you this but I can’t. I’m sorry…”

  “What is it? You’re starting to worry me now.”

  Tracy took a deep breathe in, “I’m pregnant.”

  Kirk didn’t respond. It was an announcement that he wasn’t expecting – one that came straight from left field and knocked him for six.

  “Well say something,” said Tracy as her smile began to fade.

  “I’ll give you two a couple of minutes,” said the waiter as he slowly backed away from the table unsure as to whether the female customer’s news was going to met with joy or a sudden, angry outburst.

  3

  “YOU’VE GONE QUIET,” SAID KIM.

  Kirk had gone quiet. He hadn’t said anything for twenty minutes now – twenty minutes that seemed like a lifetime for Kim as she sat opposite his emotionless face.

  “I’m fine,” he finally replied.

  “You looked lost in thought. Where’d you go?”

  He smiled in a vague hope it would keep her happy, “I’m just tired.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you out.”

  “You didn’t. It’s not a problem,” he lied again as his thoughts skipped back to Tracy. When Kirk met Kim, through her mother all those years ago, he liked Kim. When she walked through the front door, earlier in the afternoon, those thoughts came crashing back to him when he realised who she was. He loved Tracy though and, whenever someone mentioned her or he was reminded of her – he couldn’t help but remember her and get lost in deep thought as his mind raced through the many happy memories they had shared. And the unhappy memory that he shared alone.

  “How are you feeling now?” he asked desperately trying to think of something other than Tracy.

  “I’m feeling better now I’m here. I’m just sore.”

  “That bath would help.”

  “I don’t want to be alone just yet. Soon.”

  “Are you hungry yet?” Kirk felt as though their conversation was merely going around in circles like a broken record but he didn’t know what as he could say. Whenever he tried to talk about their past, when they knew each other, she clammed up. Whenever he asked what she had been doing – she changed the conversation to something more suiting to her and never gave an answer. Just as Tracy was a forbidden subject to discuss with Kirk it seemed, to him, that anything to do with past or present was a forbidden subject to discuss with Kim. He wasn’t exactly left with a lot of possible conversation topics that could lead to a proper chat. All he had at his disposal was small chit-chat – normally used to pass the time with complete strangers.

  “Do you know what you want to do yet?” he asked hoping she may have an answer for him.

  “I was wondering whether I could stay here for a couple of days, just until I feel a little bit better.”

  “Won’t someone miss you? Isn’t there anyone waiting for you?” He hoped the answer would be that someone was waiting for her and she would need to get back to them. He liked having her there – he liked the company but he knew that she wouldn’t understand about Tracy. No one would. He also knew that Tracy wouldn’t understand about Kim.

  “I don’t really have anyone.”

  Kirk paused momentarily. He needed to press further about her past to try and make sense of what had happened to her, “What about your mum?”

  Kim looked to the floor trying to hide the fact that she was upset. He didn’t like to ask but he had to.

  “She’s dead,” whispered Kim. She wiped a tear from her eye.

  The last time Kirk had seen Kim’s mum, Jackie, was at the foster home where he had lived when he was growing up. Jackie had run the foster home all the time that Kirk had stayed there and had seemed to be the only nice member of staff in the establishment. The fact that she was dead came as a shock to Kirk. As one of the only adults who were truly nice to him, on a day to day basis, as he was growing up he couldn’t help but show his sorrow.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he took a packet of tissues, from a coffee table, and handed them to Kim.

  “Thank you,” she took a tissue from the packet and wiped her eye being careful not to catch any of her bruises.

  Kirk hesitated for a moment, “You know she was one of the nicest ladies I’d met when I was younger. I’ll never forget her. What happened?” It was selfish of Kirk to push further into what had happened to Jackie but, because he knew her, he selfishly believed that he had a right to know. He had always classed her as a friend. “When did it happen?” he continued ignoring the fact that the tears coming from Kim’s eyes were falling more frequently.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it, I’m sorry.”

  Kirk stopped. He realised he had pushed too far and Kim had gone back to the state she was in when he picked her up from the hospital; unresponsive, closed off.

  “No, I’m sorry,” he said as he moved to the chair next to her. The more he was in her company, the more he began feeling emotions again and he slowly put his arm around her. Kim leaned in close and he hugged her as tightly as he could, without hurting her. It was hard for him to explain – but he wasn’t used to all the different emotions he was feeling. This was the first time he had felt sorry for anyone other than himself. He squeezed Kim harder, not wishing to let go.

  The last time Kirk had seen Jackie was thirteen years before when he was sixteen years old and living in the foster home where she was the manager.

  Whenever Jackie was working her shift, a young Kirk walked the halls of the large home with an air of confidence about him as he knew he was safe from any trouble. Although he was one of the older boys in the home, he was also one of the quieter ones who had trouble holding his own a
gainst the kids that were there because they were too unruly for their parents to cope with. Whenever Jackie was off shift they would make his life a misery with childish name calling and threats of violence – even if he reported it to the other staff members that were on duty; little was done. They were there to earn money to pay the bills – not because they actually cared about the wellbeing of the children who were all from different social backgrounds and had varying levels of education and morals. Kirk was in the home because he was simply unwanted. His mother gave birth to him but failed to accept he was her son. She had said, when she saw him, “I already have a son, I don’t need another one.”

  Unlike the other staff members that worked in the home; Jackie did care about the children. She had a daughter at home whom she went home to every day and yet she still perceived these other children to be her children. When one of the foster children were successfully fostered off to new parents, Jackie would often have a little cry to herself – because she was happy that the child was about to go to a good home and because the child was no longer living in her home.

  She often sensed when something was troubling Kirk and would often spend time chatting with him about different topics ranging from the other children to what he was watching on the television. Jackie had grown particularly fond of Kirk. He wasn’t a good-looking child and his shyness made him invisible to potential parents that came to see the children but Jackie saw something in him from the very first moment he was brought into the orphanage – when he was just a baby. As Kirk hit his teenage years she knew that he was in all likelihood going to stay at the orphanage until he was eighteen years of age as it was always harder to foster off teenagers – especially boys as they struggle with their hormones and emotions.

  The last time Kirk saw Jackie was on his sixteenth birthday, the day his new parents were finally coming for him. They were an elderly couple who left it too late in life to have children of their own. They particularly wanted an older child so they could skip what most perceive as the ‘difficult’ years. Jackie had taken Kirk into her office and sat him down. She had grown attached to him and wanted to personally wish him well with his new life. She wanted to let him know that, whatever he needed, she was always there for him. She was one of the only people, at this stage of his life, to be nice to him and actually pay him a compliment. Kirk wasn’t used to it and had blushed when she described him as a ‘special young man’. In their final chat, Jackie presented Kirk with a small gift and told him to unwrap it from the comforts of his new bedroom.

  Silver watch; engraved on the back – ‘To my special son’.

  Jackie was a good person; a good woman who didn’t deserve cancer – especially for the second time. The first time Jackie had cancer she took a long break from work but the exact reasons were kept secret from the children who were told that she was having a rest. A lengthy period of absence and one of the hardest times of Kirk’s young life as he felt as though his ‘safety blanket’ had been taken away. By the time she was diagnosed for the second time Kirk was already out of her life and was, unbeknownst to her, part of her daughter’s life; albeit in the background.

  * * * * *

  Kim pulled away from Kirk’s warm embrace – scared to get too close to him, “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You’ve done nothing wrong. I didn’t mean to upset you; I’m not too good at this.” Kirk said pointing out the painfully obvious. He stood up, “I’m going to get something to eat – can I get you anything?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He nodded and walked from the room without bothering to ask what she wanted. He wasn’t used to visitors in his house and didn’t have a lot of food to offer – she would have to have whatever he cooked.

  ‘Hopefully she’ll like it,’ he thought to himself as he strolled through to the kitchen and opened the cupboard door revealing stacks of different branded tomato soups.

  4

  “TOMATO SOUP, PLEASE,” said Tracy when the waiter asked to her take order for the starter. He duly wrote down her request, took Kirk’s order for the prawn cocktail, and walked away from the table. “Are you sure you are happy?” asked Tracy nervously.

  “It just came as a bit of a shock,” said Kirk, “I think its great news. I didn’t even know you were worried about being pregnant though.”

  “I didn’t want to worry you so I waited until I was one hundred percent sure. You’re sure you’re happy?”

  Kirk laughed, “Yes. A million times yes. I’m happy.” He lifted her hand from the table and kissed it softly with his warm lips; the scent of her sweet perfume filling his nostrils. Tracy smiled at him and pulled her hand away, embarrassed by the public display of affection – even more so as she realised an elderly couple kept looking over at them both. “I love you,” said Kirk as he poured himself another glass of wine. The loved-up Kirk a million miles away from the Kirk of today; the broken shell of an empty man that’s been consumed by grief.

  “Marry me,” blurted Tracy completely catching Kirk by surprise just as he took a mouthful of his drink.

  “What?” Kirk spat his mouthful back into the glass. It was either that or he would have choked on it. The posh couple on the table to the right of him give him a stern look as much to say, ‘we don’t do that sort of thing in this restaurant, sir’.

  Tracy laughed, “I’m sorry that came out wrong – will you marry me?”

  Kirk wiped his mouth with his hand, “What are you trying to do to me?”

  Tracy took hold of his hand – a sign of her love for him and a gesture to stop him from running from the table, “We’re having a baby, we live together, it’s the right thing to do. It’s what I want to do. I want to be your wife…”

  “It’s just that…” he went to say before getting interrupted.

  “It’s what?” said Tracy as she feared for the negative answer.

  “Well,” explained Kirk as he pulled the small box containing the engagement ring from his pocket, “you’ve kind of stolen my thunder.”

  “What?” Tracy dropped his hand and pulled away from him; shocked.

  “I asked you here so I could propose. I was going to wait until the end of the meal but, well, I guess now is a good a time as any. Tracy, will you marry me?” He opened the box to reveal the diamond, platinum engagement ring. A ring that he had been saving for since he first met Tracy three years earlier.

  “Say that again,” said Tracy – her eyes transfixed on the beautiful ring. The old man was right, Kirk could say anything now and she wouldn’t hear it.

  Kirk climbed down from his chair and went down on one knee; the couple next to him stopped eating their food, turned to watch, and the elderly couple in the corner of the room watched them more intently now as they waited to see how Kirk would get on. The waiter stopped dead in his tracks, holding onto a plate that contained a prawn cocktail and, in his other hand, a bowl of piping hot tomato soup.

  * * * * *

  “It’s hot,” said Kirk as he came back into the room and handed Kim a bowl of piping hot tomato soup, “I hope you like it, if not I can always go out when the shops open and get something else for you.”

  “It’s fine, thank you. It certainly smells good,” said Kim.

  Tomato soup wouldn’t have been her first choice in an ‘extremely early’ breakfast but it was light enough to maybe help settle her stomach. All night, even before what had happened, Kim had felt sick; a common feeling when she nervous. The cocaine helped ease that feeling as it replaced it with a false feeling of hope but the drugs had long since worn off and now she could feel the drugs that were given to her at the hospital were starting to leave her system too.

  She looked over at Kirk who had sat back down on the opposite chair from him, “You aren’t eating?”

  He smiled, “I don’t like tomato soup. I had something in the kitchen,” he lied as he breathed in the smell of the soup; the savoury smell that reminded him of that night. They both fell into silence again – the silence br
oken by the occasional ‘slurp’ from Kim as she ate her soup.

  Kirk only ate now when he felt as though he absolutely had to. When Tracy was alive he used to enjoy eating. He used to enjoy trying the different tastes of foods from different cultures – his favourite being Italian and Mexican. Now Tracy was no longer with him and he was living an isolated life he realised there was no point in trying new things as he had no one to share them with. He found it hard to get excited about anything now that his loneliness was slowly consuming him.

  Finally Kim broke the silence, “Am I the first prostitute you’ve been with?” She hated that word – ‘prostitute’ – she hated to think of herself as a woman who charged men for sex. All her life she thought these ladies of the night were people from the lowest dregs of society and, yet, here she was – a prostitute.