She Said: He Said

by Taylor, Kerry

  SHE SAID : HE SAID A LAUGH

  OUT LOUD ROMANTIC SHORT

  STORY By Kerry Taylor

  ****

  Published by:

  Kerry Taylor Copyright (c) 2013 by Kerry Taylor

  ****

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my three children; I love you with all my heart. My strength and motivation to never give up. I am grateful to have such special people in my life. My heart sings knowing I am your Mother.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A single mom of three living in Madrid, Kerry Taylor has been through many tugs-of-war in her life – from being stalked and abused to separated from her estranged husband – all while expressing her life through writing in different forms.

  She has released a series of autobiographies in the form of short stories and poetry: Stones of My Heart, Life ’s Pe bble s, Emotional Rolle rcoaste r of a Single Mom, and Grave ls of Mome nts.

  Further information about Kerry and her new style of writing - romantic comedies - can be found at the end of the book.

  About the Book She Said he was the love of her life. He saved her from a horrible ordeal on the tube. From that moment on their attraction grew. She remembers it like the palm of her hand, she recalls each moment with him and what their relationship truly meant, and to her it meant everything.

  He Said they bumped into each other, stayed together then, drifted apart. It does in nearly every? That is why most people split up. Therefore, he cannot understand why she is taking the whole thing to heart.

  A Laugh Out Loud Short Story which proves Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus !

  SHE SAID ...

  The first day we met, I was going to work, nothing new about the routine. I was thinking about my schedule for the day, as I forgot to write my Todo list on Monday. The tube was packed as usual, too many people. Waited for one to pass, as I did not feel like being stuck under some guy’s armpit or being a sandwich; then another passed, which meant I had officially missed two tubes, then three.

  Finally, I decided that if I did not get on, I would never get to work. I would just get on the bus and waste over one hour and a half in the bus, stopping at every stop and being stuck in a ridiculous amount of traffic. Therefore, I pushed everybody in front of me on to the tube.

  Why do they never move up? Why do they insist on standing near the doors? I asked one lady to move up. She said ‘I do not want to move up because I am getting off the next stop, love!’ I said to her ’Does that make sense, that no one can get on?’ The selfish cow replied, ‘I am on, so it makes perfect sense.’

  This is when I noticed him. ‘Look, she is right, you guys need to move up. Just makes things easier,’ Justin said. The same lady replied ’Easier for whom, only you lot that cannot get on?’

  ‘Seriously,’ I said, ‘This is the fourth one I have waited for and I am not going to wait any longer!’ At that last statement, Justin pushed her and a couple of other people and I was safely on the tube. I could hear moans and groans, but I did not care, because I was not missing another tube.

  I remember looking at him thinking he is my knight in shining armour. He allowed me to get close to him on the tube so we could both fit in. There I was, stuck under his armpit thinking, you smell so good. I am not sure now if he did smell so good or I was just mesmerised by the whole event.

  ‘ I must take you out to a coffee or something for coming to my rescue. I cannot move now, but I am getting off the next stop, I can give it to you then,’

  Justin said. ‘Sure thing,’ I replied. He came off the next door and just before they shut, I got his card and number. He mouthed ‘Call me’ as the tube took off.

  I had seen that movie called ‘He’s Not into You’, and my mind cast on to the problem if a man gives you his card.

  What did the film say? What is the point of his move? Does that mean that he does not want you to call him? That he is not into you? I could not remember and I was straining myself trying to think what to do next based on some movie.

  Come on, Melanie, get a life, I said to myself. So, I started to think about the question of when to call him. I just could not think straight. At the end of the day, I had just came out of a long relationship with Kevin. I was supposed to be out there dating again after 9 long years. I just did not love Kevin, as sweet as he was, and the more the years rolled by the more evident it was. He was safe, and I wanted more than that. I am more than that.

  Fuck it, I thought, I will call him today; find out if he is free tomorrow.

  And he was.

  So, there we were in the coffee shop, introducing ourselves, and generally getting the formalities out of the way.

  There was a spark between us, we were getting excited just talking to each other, when he said, ‘Stuff this, we should just go to the hotel across the road and shag!’

  I compiled and we shagged indeed. I am not sure for how long, because, next thing I knew, my phone was going and it was work. I had to go!

  He proudly announced that he thought we should shag, so he told work he was off for the afternoon for a dentist appointment.

  We both laughed!

  I drilled his teeth alright and he drilled mine!

  Next: to figure out if we were to meet again? Silence in the room. We waved each other goodbye. I returned to work thinking, this is the first time that I have ever done skived off work to have sex. I feel a surge of energy in me, as I thought about how spontaneous I had been and the fact that I would never do anything like that with Kevin. Little did I know it would not be the last!

  Yep, you guessed it: every Friday from then onwards I was at the dentist!

  After 6 weeks, he stated that he was really enjoying himself, maybe we should do something different and what was I up to on the weekend?

  I had plans with the girlfriends each and every weekend, but then again, I always had plans with the girls, so one Saturday without them was no big deal. So, I told him, ‘Nothing much, what did you have in mind?’ He replied, ‘I am thinking – I can see you play sports so what about a game of tennis, or squash or something?’

  ‘Sure, tennis is more my thing, are you member of a club?’ I replied, ‘I have not played in a while, but I used to play for the

  county.’ He looked at me impressed and said, ‘Yes, I am a member of David Lloyds.’ ‘Very posh,’ I replied. ‘Which one? The one in Wimbledon?’ I asked.

  He replied, ‘Yes, that one.’ ‘Cool, what time?’ ‘Around 1pm. I will call you.’

  He called
.

  We played tennis.

  Then went back to his for some more shagging!

  He had a nice flat; he shared it with his brother. It was a lovely Victorian house which had been converted into 3 flats.

  They had the top-floor flat, and they could see the Wimbledon tennis courts from their flat. I asked him if he watched the games from the window. ‘I am not cheap. I do buy tickets; prefer to see them up close, especially when the William sisters are playing.’ ‘Why just them?’ I asked. He replied, ‘Apart from their good playing skills, they have a tight body, especially Venus!’

  It was a typical bachelor’s pad. No photos, nothing too cynical and certainly nothing feminine about the place. Everything was modern and new.

  They had the latest coffee machine, dishwasher, and cooker. The cooker was fantastic, it was a Britannia which had the option of gas or electricity. ‘So, are you guys cooks?’ I asked. He said, ‘Yes, my brother and I love cooking. Come on Thursday, he is normally at home at a decent time on Thursday, and we will cook for you. What is your favourite?

  Chinese, Thai, Italian, what?’ I say, ‘Italian.’ ‘Cool,’ he says as he starts looking on the books shelf for an Italian recipe book, “we will go through it and decide what is best to cook for you. So, be prepared to have a full Italian meal in Wimbledon.’ ‘I look forward to it’, I replied and I did.

  Thursday night came, and I was introduced to his brother. He was the total opposite of Justin; he was all chatty and seemed like a wheeler and dealer.

  ‘Joe, you are like a car showroom sales man,’ I said, laughing.

  He replied, ‘You are nearly spot on. I am a stockbroker! Nearly the same thing, sell either cars or stocks. What is the difference?’ We laughed and I knew that we are going to get on so well. He told me his stories about the hundreds of thousands that he lost on one day and the amount he earnt the next day.

  ‘I just think the whole thing is scary and such a risk’ Joe says. ‘I know that is why all stockbrokers drink too much, or are on drugs, or just generally unstable!’

  ‘So, are you unstable, Joe?’ I asked. He replied, ‘You betta believe it, love. I am seriously one of a kind on a good day and different kind on a bad day!’ We all laughed.

  He served up the main course, which was garlic shrimp linguine. Strange.

  ‘Never had this before, do not normally eat seafood but, hey, it looks too delicious to pass on it.’ There I was indulging in this meal, when all of a sudden I felt that my face was all itchy. I started scratching it furiously. Justin asked, ‘Are you allergic to seafood?’

  ‘Do not think so. Why do you ask?’ I replied. ‘Because your face looks like a football.’

  Right there and then, I ran to the bathroom. I looked like something out of a horror movie. My face was all swollen, my cheeks looked like they were full of food. I could scare children for weeks with this face. And that is exactly what I did. I ran out of the flat, scared and frightened by what was in front of me. The problem was, so was everyone else scared when they saw me.

  I created mayhem in the streets of Wimbledon. Kids were screaming down the street, ‘There is an Ugly version of Princess Fiona on the streets.’ Then there were others screaming, ‘No, it is that brother from the Goonie movie, the one they locked in the basement; he has escaped and is wearing women clothing!’ Meanwhile, Justin drove in the car, and ordered me to get in to take me to the hospital.

  We arrived at the hospital. Everyone was so scared. When I got to the reception, the receptionist told us that we did not have to worry about seeing the nurse, and that we could not wait in the waiting room that I would scare of all the children and kill all the old people who are already sick. She shouted ‘You just need a private room, and now!’ , she cannot look me in the eye, but instead is looking at Justin, simply because she was too disgusted to look at my face.

  Within ten minutes of being in the private room, a doctor appeared and asked, ‘How did this happen, or is this your normal face?’ I replied, ‘Is this a joke? If you think it is my normal face, would I really be in the hospital?’ He claimed, ‘I do not know why you are here, so I am trying to ascertain the problem. It could be that you have something wrong with you.’ I stopped him and said, ‘Course, I do — Look at my face!’

  At this point, Justin had his hand on my shoulder trying to calm me down. He explained the situation to the doctor, who claimed that I should just have a epinephrine shot. He gave me one, and I felt that a weight was taken off my shoulder. And for some strange reason, having the shot, or maybe it was the way Justin took care of me again in this situation, I decided that I could not contain myself any longer, and I just popped out and asked the question, so what is it between us, are we going out?

  He replied, ‘What do you think is going on between us?’

  I shrugged, because there is this one thing: I hate a question being answered with another question.

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘so I thought we were just shagging, but then you ask me on the date, then you invite me to come and eat at your place with your brother. It is like you are introducing me to your family.

  Well, not so much your family, but it is like you are taking it to a different level.

  Then, again I do not know what level we are on? I am just unsure now. It’s like we are more then just fuck buddies, or are we only fuck buddies? I was enjoying it, so now I am wondering what we are doing. Are we just messing around?’

  He looked me in the eye, and said, ‘I did not know you could talk so much. Or is it the shot? No, I do enjoy the shagging, but I like the conversations in between the shagging, and want us to be more than friends or shagging friends. What do you think about that?’

  I hugged him, because I had felt that way. I was too scared to commit. With that last statement, I fell asleep on the bed and curled up like a child. Praying that in the morning I would be back to normal. I could not bear to hear any more screams as soon as I walk down the street.

  Bring on the next chapter, telling the girls ...

  ‘So,’ Alex asked, ‘ What has been going on with you lately? You have been busy the past few weekends and Fridays. You are always at the dentist, and, sorry to say, but your teeth look the same! He is not doing that good a job!’

  ‘Confession time — I have not been going to the dentist!’

  ‘Really!’ they all said at the same time, like they believed I was going to the dentist in the first place!

  ‘OK, so I have been seeing someone. At first I thought, I was just shagging him.

  We never discussed anything more and he did not seem to want anything more, and it was fine. A bit of fun. Think it was just what the doctor ordered and came at the right time. But then he went and asked me on a date and then, of course, we ended up at his shagging as usual and ...

  Tracey interrupted, ‘Look, we do not need that kind of detail, we just want to know. What is his name? What does he do? Where does he live? Has he got money? Is it serious or as you said just shagging? Fundamentally, the most important question of all, when are we going to meet him?’

  At that precise moment, I was in shock.

  Sure, Justin and I discussed football, the weather, music, books. Yet, on everything personal but the fundamental basic details I did not have a clue, and I had been shagging him for three months.

  They all looked at me and laughed. They all knew exactly what this meant – ‘You do not know!’ Michelle said, laughing her head off. ‘That is so not like you!’

  ‘Do you know his last name?’ Tracey asked with a face as red as a tomato from laughing.

  I shook my head – I was shaking my head in a state of frenzy. I was so desperate to tell the girls, but at that moment in time, I did realise, I had nothing to tell them. I certainly was not about to tell them what we did in the bedroom, and neither what we did not do in the bedroom. Yet, when I summed it all up, I had nothing to tell them because the fundamentals were a complete mystery to me. I did not have a clue, I was stuck, and I felt complete
ly stupid!

  Extreme laughter.

  ‘What has come over you?’ asked Tracey. ‘He must be really good in bed.

  You are normally the one that asks all these questions on a first date. And it has been how long?’

  ‘Three months,’ I said quietly under my breath.

  They laughed even more, now they were in fits of laughter.

  I got my iPhone and sent him two SMS’s:

  What is your last name?

  What do you do?

  Within a minute: Grant

  Complicated, when we meet will explain, title means nothing I declared, ‘His last name is Grant, and he is something complicated!’

  Everyone was laughing at this point.

  We had decided to check out this new club that had opened near Tottenham Court Road. Now, we were getting ourselves ready for the night ahead. Normally, this consisted of going to the Spa on Sloane Street where we pampered ourselves silly. After the Spa, we went and got our essentials sorted out. That could consist of anything from doing our nails, to a English wax. That was normally Tracey’s request; always thought she is going to end up with a man tonight!

  Eventually followed by a drink in a bar, and hitting the nightclubs.

  We were not as young as we used to be, but certainly not that old to turn up to a club before the doors open! That was just sad. We saw some fifty-yearolds — they looked good for their age — standing outside waiting for it to open, like they were going to Ikea. I went to tell them that they were too early. They asked, ‘What time does it open?’ I told them, ‘11pm.’ We watched them from the bar across the road. Five cocktails later, at 10.50pm, who do we see standing outside the club? Yep, they are back outside, waiting for it to be open.

  We asked, ‘Why are you coming ten minutes early?’ They replied, ‘Because we want to be the first in line, and normally in a club the first hour is free!’

  I thought — Maybe in the ‘60s, but not this day and age!

  We laughed. They were sweet, and by 11.45pm, they were out of the club. I asked why they left so early. They all stated, ‘It is way past our bed time, but we had a good night out. It was worth it — travelling to the club for an hour — then back home, because we were too early – it was good, because we got back just in time to watch Eastenders — then coming back again. It has taken it out of us, going back and forth.’