by C. J. Duggan
‘Ah, what do you want us to do with these? We found them wedged next to the bath; they look vintage, probably want to put them somewhere safe,’ said the female paramedic as she placed a pair of silver high-heeled shoes on Nana’s stretcher, waiting for her to respond.
I looked at the shoes, then to Vera, then Nana, who turned away, as though, if she didn’t acknowledge their existence, then maybe no one else would.
Vera sighed heavily, her lips pursed together as she took the shoes from her. ‘What have I told you, Joy? You can’t go swanning about in heels anymore.’
‘What?’ I asked, still confused.
Vera took the shoes and handed them to me. ‘She would have been playing dress-ups. It’s not the first fall; I’ve had to hide all the heels. Seems like I didn’t do a good enough job.’
I clutched the intricately detailed shoes, silver and silken, expensive, delicate. ‘Nana, what were you doing at that hour trying on shoes?’ I laughed, thinking it funny more than anything, but I realised my mistake when I looked at her. Her eyes were so wild with rage and hurt that I thought the flesh would melt from my face.
‘Oh, it’s all right for you, isn’t it, prancing around without a care in the world, bounding up steps and wearing silly skirts. Well, let me tell you something. Just you wait until your beauty fades and your body aches and your independence is gone, when the biggest thrill of your day is wearing something that makes you feel young and beautiful in the privacy of your own home, then see how it feels to be humiliated and reminded of how old and silly you are.’
‘Nana, I never said—’
‘No, but you were thinking it, you all were. What a stupid old woman, dreaming of her lost youth.’ Her angry eyes shifted past me to where Jack stood, and her eyes changed.
‘Except you, you don’t look at me like that.’ Tears welled in her clear blue eyes and I felt for her.
‘All right, Mrs Ellingham, we’re going to take you in for observation. Is there someone who you wanted to—’
‘I’ll go,’ I said, eagerly passing the shoes to Vera, but Nana had other ideas.
‘I want Vera to come,’ she said, turning her head away from us.
Vera’s expression was sad as she handed back the shoes. ‘Sorry, Kate.’
I smiled weakly; it shouldn’t have been a huge shock, but I still felt unnecessary and unwanted as they wheeled Nana down the hall.
‘Here we go, let’s get you on the road to recovery,’ said the man, carefully manoeuvring her to the front door.
Vera hugged me. ‘I’ll give you a call from the hospital.’
I nodded, clutching the shoes to my chest as I followed them out.
‘Ow! Watch it, you stupid fool,’ she snapped at the para-medics as they tried to gently take her down the terrace steps. I sighed. Despite all of my empathy for Nana’s situation and remorse at my possible hand in it, I was relieved it wasn’t just me; that Nana hated the whole world these days and everyone in it. Then I felt Jack’s presence at my side, watching as I turned to look at his profile.
Well, almost everyone.
Vera climbed in to sit by Nana’s side and the back doors closed.
‘It’s just a formality because of her age, and the head injury. It’s a sprain, which is good, just means she’ll be less mobile while she rests but her mind is as sharp as a tack, so I suspect she’ll be home in no time.’
I studied the side of Jack’s face, my attention only diverted as the ambulance pulled away from the kerb. His reassurance was exactly what I had needed to hear. His calm in a crisis, his bedside manner and the way he had made Nana putty in his hands. The way he soothed me at my most distraught, just by holding me; he seemed to know exactly what was needed. What I needed.
‘Thank you,’ I said, and unlike all the other words that slipped out of my mouth in the last few days, I really meant it.
Jack looked down at me with interest. ‘I’m getting quite accustomed to saving you, Miss Brown. What will tomorrow bring?’
‘Nothing,’ I said. And I could feel lightness inside of me, watching as he cocked one eyebrow.
‘You sure about that?’
‘Yes.’ I half-laughed, staring up at him in challenge.
Jack lingered between steps as he edged his way down, the cogs in his head turning. As he stood on the lower step, buttoning up his jacket, he looked back up at me with a boyish grin.
‘What?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing.’ And just as he was about to leave, I remembered something.
‘Jack, wait!’
Jack looked up at me expectantly.
‘Before, when you knocked on my door, was there something you wanted?’
Jack shrugged his shoulder in that cool, casual way he did. ‘Um, not that I can recall.’
I shook my head; something told me Jack was lying.
‘Fine, but before you go.’ I ran back into the house and up to my room, grabbing the rolled-up money from my desk, before bounding back down to Jack. He hadn’t moved from where he stood and took in my breathless state with a curious smile.
I reached out to shake his hand. ‘Here.’
Ever so slowly, he took my hand, as if I might electrocute him. Only when he felt something in my palm did his brows raise with interest. Before he could try to return the money, I dived inside.
‘Bye!’ I said, slamming the door behind me and pressing my back against it with a huge grin, impressed with my effort.
Kate – 1
Jack – 0
As I was revelling in my victory I heard the sound of a squeaky hinge, and I watched in horror as a roll of money slipped through the letterbox and onto the floor.
‘Sorry, love, I don’t take tips,’ he called through the door.
I swept up the money and pulled the door open just as Jack was sliding into his car.
‘This isn’t the last you’ve heard of me, Jack Baker,’ I called.
He laughed, resting his elbow on the open window. ‘Of that, Kate Brown, I have no bloody doubt.’
Chapter Twelve
‘I’m sorry, Kate, but she doesn’t want you here.’ Vera’s voice was apologetic over the phone line.
‘But they’re keeping her in overnight.’
‘Only as a precaution. I’m going to swing by yours to pick up a few things.’
‘Well, I could bring them to you.’
Vera laughed. ‘Kate, it’s fine, this is what I get paid to do.’
‘Yeah, well, you’re earning some serious overtime.’
There was silence on the other end, and I hoped that I hadn’t offended her in some way. ‘I should have answered your call. I should have been more diligent about keeping her shoes out of the way.’
It occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one playing the blame game, that Vera too was feeling guilty over something that really wasn’t anyone’s fault.
‘Vera, it was an accident. God only knows what Nana gets up to when we’re not around; it’s a part of that independent spirit of hers that can’t be tamed. Not by you, or me.’
‘Yes, well, maybe certain a hunky next-door neighbour could; she hasn’t stopped gushing about him since he left here.’
‘Left?’
‘Oh, he dropped in to the hospital to check on her, which was really nice of him.’
I felt tightness in my chest but quickly blinked back to my senses. ‘Yes, that was nice.’
‘It was kind of funny though, well, not really, but Joy was at her grumpy worst, bossing people around, being nasty to the nurses, and Jack put her back in her place, in the most clever way I have ever seen. He was telling her off, but did it so that it didn’t seem like it … does that makes sense?’
I laughed, having seen firsthand exactly what she meant. ‘Maybe we could take lessons from him,’ I said.
‘I doubt it would work, we aren’t blessed with those dimples.’ Vera sounded far away, like she too was suffering from the Jack Baker Effect.
‘So how did he tame the wild
beast?’
‘He just told her that people have a job to do, and that when people treat him like that in his workplace, it’s not a nice feeling.’
What workplace could he be talking about? What was Jack’s job? I really didn’t know anything about him, and it was beginning to annoy me.
‘And what did she say to that?’
‘She actually thought about it, like you could see it rolling around in her mind, and she seemed a mite shameful. But she didn’t actually say anything, just changed the subject.’
I couldn’t help but laugh, so clearly able to picture the scene. ‘Well, I doubt it will cure her in any way, but I hope she will be a little more careful in the future, if not a little nicer.’
‘Yes, well, don’t get your hopes up, Kate.’
It was the first time I had heard Vera let down her barrier; I liked it.
‘Promise me something, Vera. Promise me you won’t feel guilty about what happened. It wasn’t your fault or my fault, not even Nana’s. It was just one of those things and we can’t carry it around with us, okay?’
‘Okay, well, I’ll promise you that if you promise me something.’
Somehow I didn’t feel so assured with the tables turned.
‘What’s that?’
‘Go out tonight! Have some fun, enjoy yourself. Don’t waste your youth.’
‘You mean swan around in silly skirts?’ I quoted Nana’s heated words.
Vera laughed. ‘Exactly.’
‘Well, after this morning’s fiasco I really don’t think I can—’
‘Kate.’ Vera said my name like a warning, and I knew she was right.
‘All right, I’ll go out and have the time of my life.’
‘Good girl.’
‘Even if I have no friends.’
‘Go and make friends.’
‘Riiight,’ I said, thinking about how accustomed I had become to living like a hermit, the lonely blogger locked in her tower. ‘I think I’ve forgotten how to interact with others.’
‘Which is precisely why you need to do this.’
I knew she was right, that everything she was saying made complete sense. The Kate of yesterday would have jumped at the chance of a minute’s freedom, let alone a night all to herself. What was holding me back?
Vera’s voice brought me out of my musings. ‘I’d better go, Kate, but I’ll see you later?’
‘You will.’
‘You can show me what you’re going to wear out on the town.’
I winced even thinking about it. ‘Yay!’ I said, rather unconvincingly. As I hung up the phone I realised I wanted nothing more than to hang out on my terrace for the night, but I really didn’t want to think about why.
I did as I was told and went out to reclaim my youth and enjoy my independence. As much as I loved what I was wearing – classy boots, fawn sleeveless wraparound dress with a corded black leather belt to match my black clutch – I had never felt like such an imposter. I excused myself through the crowd of the Stanhope Arms, the only place I felt comfortable going due to its proximity to home and familiarity. Yep, I was such a loser. I skimmed over the crowd, thinking I might see Jack, but he was nowhere to be found. I shouldn’t have been surprised, I didn’t know enough about him to know if this was even his local watering hole. Maybe it was just chance that had led him here. But as I waited at the bar, I noticed the same bartender was serving as yesterday, the one who appeared to know Jack. The barman finally stood before me and I wondered if he recognised me, but there was nothing, just an expectant stare as his eyes dipped to the tenner in my hand.
‘Oh, right, hello,’ I said nervously. ‘Could I please have …’
‘A cider?’
He did remember me!
‘Um, not tonight, I might just go for a house white, thanks.’
He nodded, sliding the tenner from the bar and moving to the fridge. I quickly tried to think of conversation topics that would lead to Jack, and then I realised how creepy that would be, and what a massive stalker I was. He was back with my drink all too soon.
‘Jack!’ I blurted out, as he put the change on the bar in front of me.
Kate, what the hell are you doing? Just shut up!
‘Have you seen Jack? Jack Baker?’
It was like an out-of-body experience: I could hear myself saying things and I was powerless to stop it.
The barman shook his head. ‘Not tonight.’
That was the pearl of wisdom he left me with and, alarmingly, I felt disappointed. There was only one thing to be done. I grabbed my wine and skulled it.
Chapter Thirteen
I made friends! Lots of friends.
Lotty, Dave, Micky and Lou were my party mates for the night as the band played Rolling Stones covers, which would have made my dad happy. I downed shots with my new friends and danced until my feet hurt and the room spun.
‘Come on, Kate, we’re heading to Knightsbridge.’
I didn’t know where that was but it sounded good to me, so I grabbed my clutch as Lotty took my hand and led me out through the crowd.
‘Knightsbridge, baby!’ I waved my hands in the air, feeling more alive than ever.
‘Kate?’
I spun around, trying to see who had called my name, then my eyes landed on a familiar face.
‘It’s me, George. We met on Jack’s terrace.’
Something fluttered in my chest as I heard the name of the man I had been drinking to forget.
‘George, hi!’
‘Hey, Kate, come on, let’s go!’ I turned to see Micky hanging out of a cab, laughing and trying his best not to fall out.
‘Oh, sorry, I’m keeping you,’ he said.
‘NO!’ I said a bit too aggressively. ‘It’s fine, I don’t even know them.’ I shrugged, laughing and swaying.
‘Oh, you don’t?’
‘Never met them before in my life,’ I admitted.
‘Kate, come on, babe, he’s not for you, I’m for you.’ Dave peeled his shirt down and tried to lick his nipple, causing a mass of cackles from the group.
Even in my rather tipsy state, I recoiled from the view. ‘Ew.’
I spun around to see George’s expression mirroring my own.
‘You can’t go with them.’
‘I can’t?’
‘Not tonight. Not any night, stay here.’
‘But it’s Knightsbridge.’ I said it in a way that I hoped was self-explanatory.
‘Do you want a snapshot of the decision you’re about to make?’
I blinked at him, confused, trying to block out the catcalls from behind me.
‘Go with them and you’ll have a laugh until your drink is spiked or you end up in emergency, confused and holding the hand of a stranger who has just been glassed because he cracked on to the girlfriend of some bloke who just happens to be freshly out of jail for aggravated assault. All the while, you’re being questioned by police and crying because the buzz from the alcohol is wearing off and you can’t confirm your identity because one of your “friends’” mates has stolen your purse so you have no money and no means to get home. Oh, and you will also be missing a shoe, have a grazed knee and be about to lose the contents of your stomach in a very public and demeaning way that will stain your pretty dress, which you won’t be able to get dry cleaned because not only have you no cash but you’re not long off from checking your Visa statement where you will see the obscene amounts of money you spent on shouting your new “friends” drinks all night. Does that sound appealing to you?’
I stared at George, his rather vivid portrayal of my potential future turning over in my mind. I glanced toward the taxi where the group were shouting at me and the scene suddenly looked completely different; like someone had switched a light on and I could see all the dingy details in sharp focus.
I turned back to George, lifting my chin with as much dignity as I could muster while smoothing over my dress. ‘I guess this is as good a place as any.’
He laughed, stepping
aside and waving me in. ‘After you.’
‘Is it too late to head to Knightsbridge?’ I said, staring hopelessly at the glass of water that sat in front of me. ‘When you offered to buy me a drink I kind of imagined it coming out of a bottle and not a tap.’
‘I can get you bottled water, if you want?’
‘Geez, you’re too kind. Clearly you don’t have to worry about checking your Visa statement after a night out.’
‘You’ll thank me for it in the morning,’ George said, lifting his pint of beer to his lips.
I tilted my head and looked closely at him. His hair was dark, matched by his dark eyes and olive skin. He was dressed in casual clothes, not a suit, hence why I hadn’t recognised him right away. ‘Is it in all Englishman’s DNA to protect helpless Australian women?’
George laughed. ‘Not at all,’ he said, placing his drink down.
I took a sip of my water, thinking what a poor substitute it was for wine, but how much I needed it.
‘So is this your local then?’ I asked.
‘Nah, not really, only when I’m crashing at Jack’s place.’
My water went down the wrong way at the mention of his name, bringing on a coughing fit.
‘Someone can’t handle their water,’ he joked.
I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. ‘Sorry, went down the wrong way.’
George watched me with interest, as if trying to decide whether to tell me something.
‘So, you’re crashing there tonight, then?’
‘Yeah, Jack was going to come out but he had a thing after work so …’
A thing.
Why don’t people use proper words? What was this thing? Date night with the girlfriend maybe? I really didn’t want to think about that.
‘Oh, so he’s not meeting up with you later, then?’ I asked, spinning my drink around on the coaster in my best attempt to look uninterested.
‘Nah, I’ll just catch him later at home,’ he said, and that was the extent of it.
Why don’t men gossip more? Maybe he needed to loosen up a little and have a few more drinks, maybe then he’d dish the info. But then, why did I care so much?
