by Sarah Till
“Well, it’s this bloody list. How could you ever think you were going to find someone based on this?”
I seethed a little now.
“Jenni, why do you never have a boyfriend?”
“Oh, don’t start that again. I told you, it’s because I’m happy as I am.”
“I know, but you do like men, don’t you? I mean, you seem to do a lot of flirting that never goes anywhere.”
“Are you asking me if I’m gay? No. Not that it would be a problem. Seriously. I know lots of gay people. But no.” She looked grim again and drew her lips into a pursed round. “It’s not the right time. It won’t always be like this. But right now, I’m not looking to meet anyone.”
“Have you ever had a serious boyfriend?”
“Yep. I’ve had two relationships, but that’s all in the past. I’ve never told you before when you’ve asked because I want to forget about them. They weren’t good people, so I got out. End of.”
“Oh.”
I'd been expecting something a little bit more dramatic. But that was how Jenni was; very straightforward. Always says what she means. She changed the subject now.
“Let’s go. We can walk there in forty minutes and I could do with the exercise.”
She grabbed her bag and bolted for the door, but not before I saw a stray tear escape and trickle down her cheek.
Chapter Three
By eight o’clock, we were in Romano's bar, which doubled as a nightclub. The bright lights bathed the normally daytime dingy club in an artificial yellow sunlight and I immediately felt as if I was on holiday. Mark Lewis, the owner of the bar, approached with a cocktail menu.
“Good evening, ladies.”
Mark always greeted us personally. Jenni had once added up the amount of money we had spent in the bar over five years. I looked at the Rolex on his wrist and gritted my teeth.
“Hi. How's things?”
“Good. We've been busy all week.” He leaned a little bit closer. “So, tell me, how's Lenny's place doing? Busy? I noticed they've opened part of the downstairs bar for lap dancing.”
I tried to imagine the hygiene procedure that Lenny would put in place for lap dancers and Jenni mistook my frown for broken-heartedness.
“She's not with Lenny anymore. She broke it off.”
Mark stepped back a pace.
“Oh. Oh. Nothing serious I hope?”
“You're making it sound like a fatal illness, Mark. We just bloody split up. Decided to call it a day. Parted company.”
Mark looked embarrassed and held up his hands.
“OK ladies, enjoy. Have a drink on the house. And Clem, if you're ever at a loose end....”
Jenni stepped in.
“Don't go there. C'mon, Mark, you can see she's devo'd?” Mark nodded and made his retreat. My gaze followed him and Jenni nodded her approval. “He's a good-looking guy. Mmm. Good.”
“But he's blond and blue eyed. Right body shape but, I don't know, doesn't...”
“Tick the boxes? Clem, is this what goes on in your head all the time? Those bloody boxes that you think are so critical to your love life, think of it this way, they might make you miss out altogether.”
I panicked slightly and automatically grabbed my bag where the list lay.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what if you're so busy concentrating on the appearance boxes with the brown hair and eyes, that you miss someone who had brown hair but dyed it blond? Someone who is actual your Mr Right, is discarded just because he doesn't tick the fucking box? Or maybe someone with brown eyes trying out blue contact lenses?”
I thought for a moment. It was true, the list wouldn't cover these possibilities. What if I met someone who was actually really hairy but waxed all the time? What if someone barely five-foot six was wearing heels? The combinations were endless.
“I’ll just know, Jen. In the end I’ll just know.”
“So, won’t you just know without the list?”
Jenni folded her arms in triumph as I declined to answer. Neither of us spoke for a while and I watched as the room filled with groups of men and women, all eyeing each other with a competitive spirit. Small booths held laughing bustles of women who ate chips and dips before the dancing began later. Men stood in larger groups, roaring with laughter as they gulped their drinks. Every now and then a couple stood together, smiling into each other’s eyes or, more often than not, looking around desperately for something to talk about. Jenni and I played a game of guess the first date and guess the established couple. The first daters were usually animated and showing off, still attached to their preening singleton behaviour. The established couples were more distant. Like friends, they didn’t hold hands or stare into each other’s eyes. They seemed bored but content. A shiver ran through my soul as I pictured myself standing in a club with my still-faceless partner and nothing to talk about. I made a mental note that ‘romantic’ was a list-worthy quality and my hand went to my bag, only to be stopped short by Jenni grabbing my arm.
“Would you look at that!” My gaze followed her pointing finger to the entrance where about twenty guys were pushing their way through the narrow, velvet-roped VIP area. More men followed and Jenni made a low growl. “Newcomers!”
Now, anyone who didn’t know Jenni would have considered her completely predatory as she now licked her lips and swayed her hips. I knew better. Jenni was here for the thrill of the chase. She loved to choose a man and tempt him to the edge of his reasoning, then leave. I watched as she scanned the group looking for a victim.
“Must be a stag night.” I knew that stags were Jenni’s favourite, someone who was out for a good night and expected nothing lasting. Her gaze rested on two potentials.
“Which one do you reckon it is? What about him, snake-hips with the black hair? Or the Beckham lookalike? Which one of those two looks like the marrying kind?”
We both laughed and she moved onto the dance floor, her body swaying hypnotically. Almost immediately, she had an audience as the men in the group turned around and watched Jenni work it up. I checked my phone and touched the list. I was still thinking about romance, and how it would be an essential factor in my ideal partner. Musing about whether or not it was part of the ‘loving me’ item or if it deserved a listing of its own. Several people had joined Jenni now and the DJ turned down the lights and blasted the music more loudly. The men’s laughter was drowned out now and a small group of girls gathered beside the VIP area, ogling the party to spot anyone important. Jenni’s body turned towards the men and I could see that she chose Snake-hips. His friends pushed him through the rope and onto the dance floor, where Jenni moved ever so slightly towards him. It was still early and when the tune ended, she left him on the dance floor and walked back to me. I smiled.
“So. That’s you for the night, is it?”
“We’ll see. Not sure yet. Might try them both.” Her tone intimated sex but I knew she meant dancing. “Nothing to lose, have I? What about you? See anyone you like? There must be at least one of them with brown hair and eyes.”
“Stop it, Jenni. Stop laughing at me! I can’t help it if I’m picky. Not that you’re the expert.”
Jenni laughed deep and loud.
“Clem, you’re so easy to wind up. Look, do what you want. See who you want. I just think you’ll be lucky to find someone who fits everything on your fucking list. That’s all I’m saying. Lucky.”
The familiar beat of Jenni’s favourite tune sounded the call to battle, and off she went. She and Snake Hips crossed the dance floor at equal speed and combusted into a writhing mass of shapes as the floor filled to capacity. Jenni’s words echoed in my ears. But wasn’t I lucky? Lucky to have my natural blonde wash-and-wear curls? Lucky to have my Cupid’s bow lips, my long-lashed eyes, my shapely legs? Lucky to be so easy-going, so unflappable? Lucky to have my job, even though it wasn’t exactly the most glamorous in the world? It was true, I had all these things but it actually took effort, makeup and hours at the g
ym to look like this. It was a combination of good genetics and hard work rather than luck. If anyone saw me first thing on a Saturday morning after a night out, they might not consider me so lucky. I knew that I'd inherited my father’s analytical mind, and my continuous questioning of myself might point to slight neurosis, but all in all, wasn’t I lucky? Charlotte echoed through my mind again, the haunting depth of someone missing from my life, someone just on the edge of my peripheral vision, but gone when I turned to see her. The thought of her and where she was now, all the possibilities of what had happened to her, spiralled almost out of control until I reined them in. Lucky? Not while she was gone. Her disappearance had caused a backdrop of uncertainty around my life. Never being able to rest without wondering what had happened and knowing deep down that no matter where I looked, she would have to be in that exact place for me to find her. Lucky? No. The odds were too long. I pushed Charlotte back into the thick mud of the past and focused on the surface of my life. I thought about the penny and the homeless man and the feeling that my world had spun on its axis. Maybe I wasn’t so lucky after all. I was thirty-two and had never even come close to a marriage proposal.
I stared into the crowd and tried to think of ways I could meet someone. A glint of shiny bronze caught my eye and I followed the sparkle to a brand-new penny sitting on the glass-covered floor, feet moving over it but not tarnishing its shine. I ran down the steps and pushed through the crowd. Spinning around, I bent my knees and curved my body sideways to skim the floor area. Suddenly I saw it. It was still gleaming, not two feet away from where Jenni was shimmying up to Snake Hips. I made a dive for it and was soon on my knees clutching the coin. I looked up and a small crowd had gathered. I pushed the penny in my jacket pocket and hurried back to where I'd left Jenni’s coat and bag just in time as she made her way back.
Knocking the dust from my light blue jeans, I stood straight and smiled rigidly.
“You look flushed, girl. Been dancing?”
I nodded avidly.
“Yes. Dancing. I gave it a go and now I’m back.” My hand was still deep in my pocket and Jenni’s gaze sank to it.
“What you got there, girl? Not the fucking list?”
“No. It’s not the list. It’s a...”
Jenni grabbed my hand and pulled hard. The material of my jacket gave way and my hand flew through the air with Jenni’s. The penny took flight and we followed its trajectory into the disco’s dry ice. Jenni turned back to me.
“What the hell was that?”
“It was my lucky penny. That’s the second time today I’ve lost a lucky penny. I’ll never find it now with all that smoke. I might as well go home.”
Jenni wasn’t listening. She let my hand drop and half turned towards the dance floor.
“Check. It. Out.”
I stared open-mouthed as the Beckham look-alike emerged from the dry ice like he had just navigated a time-space dimension to get to us. He was even more gorgeous close up and I had a feeling I recognised him from somewhere. He approached us and Jenni spoke first.
“Hi.”
I considered it a weak opener from her, but perhaps she was being coy. He nodded at Jenni and looked harder at me. It was then that I noticed his friend. A little taller than Becks, with dark curly hair, lily-white skin and chocolate-brown eyes. Chunkier than his friend, he fidgeted with his shirt collar and looked around. When I caught his eye, he stuck his tongue out at me, shocking me at first but his wide grin won me over. He stepped forward and took my hand. Placing the shiny penny on my palm, he looked knowingly into my eyes and a small place in my soul melted like molten toffee. Becks was still studying me.
“I know you, don’t I? Aren’t you the girl from the sanitary towel advert shoot?” My mellow feeling turned to pure horror. Of course. He was the model from the advertising campaign at work. “Yeah, that’s right. You were in charge of handing out the towels to us after twenty-seven takes. You work for that tampon place, don’t you?”
I looked at Jenni who, rather than rush to my aid, looked mildly amused.
“Yes, yes, well, no. Actually, I work for the advertising side of things.”
Becks seemed intent on getting every ounce of publicity for his modelling out of the conversation and he pressed on.
“So, you don’t work in feminine hygiene, then?” He grinned at his friend who had
backed off a little. “I was kinda wondering if you had any more little gems like the one where I had to fly a kite with a girl who was pretending to be on her period. Didn’t get the concept really.”
Jenni laughed loudly and intervened, at this late point, to save me.
“No. I guess you wouldn’t get the concept. But I bet you looked hot, didn’t you? C’mon, boy, let’s dance.”
She led him away and I was left with his friend. He stared at me for a moment.
“No point asking about your job then?” His grin returned and he blushed slightly.
“Nope. It’s true. I work with tampons. Sorry.”
I was so happy to have my penny back and to have escaped Becks that I would have been happy to go home alone at this point. But he persisted.
“What’s your name?”
“Clementine.”
“Mine’s Tim.”
“Hello, Tim. Nice to meet you.” He took my hand and shook it lightly. “Don’t worry, I haven’t been touching any feminine hygiene products today.”
“Not worried in the slightest about that. What’s the deal with the penny? I saw you make a dive for it then your friend wrestling it from you.”
I hesitated slightly. He had clearly been watching me. Maybe he would think I was crazy if I told him about my lucky pennies. He already knew about my embarrassing job description: to menstruation and beyond. Would the penny be a coin too far?
“Oh, just feeling lucky. Nothing else. Really.”
Oh, that smile. It lit up his face, as if it was a sunbeam shining just for me. He shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“Well, here we are. Looks like Arthur has entranced yet another lady.”
“Arthur? Bloody hell. His resume said he was called Justin. Doesn’t really fit his look, does it? But Tim suits you.”
He reddened and tousled his hair. The grin was sort of permanent now, as if he couldn’t stop smiling. My face was also feeling quite numb from the involuntary glee.
“Thanks. Where’s your boyfriend tonight?”
My smile faded and I wondered if he had seen me out with Lenny. Had I got this all out of proportion? Maybe he wasn’t chatting me up. Maybe he was just being polite.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m, erm, single.” It was true. Only a couple of hours true, but all the same, true.
“Perfect. Me too. I’ve been single for ages now. I’ve never actually been married. Had a few long relationships but, you know, they, erm. Ended. Mutual sort of thing. No kids either.”
My heart raced and my fingers touched the list in my handbag. Surely he had just ticked at least three important boxes? So, all the appearance boxes - he was very, very gorgeous - and the baggage boxes. All ticked. I almost forgot to speak as he looked at me hopefully.
“Me too. No kids. Never been married. Actually, no very long relationships. I’ve just never found the right person.”
His hands touched my waist as he moved towards me. I lifted my head slightly, ready for our first kiss and just before our lips met, he murmured, “You have now.”
Chapter Four
Sunshine, beaches, lollipops, bluebirds. The whole happiness spectrum danced around me. Unusually for Monday morning, I almost skipped from the car park to work. Friday night had gone just perfectly. Tim and I had danced and kissed the night away, the hours fleeting by in an instant. I'd been slightly tipsy by the end of the evening and almost asked him if he wanted to come back to my house for a coffee. But I quickly remembered to observe the rules of dating and gave him my telephone number instead. I know it’s a little old school, but I’m not big on messaging. I
like to talk.
Outside the club, Jenni had disappeared into a taxi, leaving Arthur Becks high and dry, his arms raised behind his head in frustration. Tim had hailed a cab and, before I opened the car door, he whispered the immortal words:
“Can I see you again?”
I'd fingered the penny in my pocket and laughed. Second time lucky, it seemed. Tim had passed the penny to me and now he was asking me out! Had I been right all along? I smiled and nodded.
“Ring me.”
And so it began. The long wait from day one of the meeting to day three, the ordained day of ringing. I would never have expected him to ring quickly, not on the Saturday or the Sunday. Monday was day three and, depending on how you calculated it, would be the day he would ring. Had he counted day one as Friday or Saturday? Would he ring on Monday or Tuesday? Or would he ring on Thursday, ready for the weekend? But would that be a booty call? My mind raced with exciting possibilities as I got into the lift and alighted at my floor. I swung my briefcase and almost hit Johnny, who carried a lone coffee, as I approached my desk.
“Morning!”
The song still played in my head and I was well into the second verse, nodding exaggeratedly at the bit about the lucky penny. Johnny stopped in front of me and smiled vaguely.
“Good night on Friday? I saw you at Romano's. With your friend.”
“You mean Tim? I just met him that night.” I was explaining myself to Johnny. I felt slightly uncomfortable as I wondered how he knew about Tim. Why was he at the club? Why hadn't he come over for a chat? “Were you watching me, Johnny?”
“No, I wasn't watching you, Clementine. I was there with some friends. I go there sometimes.”
“Oh. It's just that I've been going there five years and I've never seen you there. Why didn't you come over?” I knew it sounded like an accusation, so I smiled slightly.
“You were with your friend. Not the bloke, but your friend who you go out with. Didn't want to interrupt.”
“Oh, Jenni? Well, you know her, don't you? You saw her at the end of my road last night and told her about Lenny. How did you know about that?” He still looked cool and I wondered if I was making too much of this. I'd sometimes thought that he was watching me from his desk, with his stares and little smiles. Maybe he was just being friendly.
