The Words Shimmer

by Jenn Matthews

  “I doubt anything would make me want to work with you when I have a choice.”

  Something akin to sadness flashed across Ruby’s eyes before her mouth pulled into a smirk. “It’s all in aid of the Air Ambulance Charity.”

  Mel blinked.

  “We’re to raise money for them; hold a tombola; sell the plants the kids grow—that sort of thing.”

  A twisting in her gut made Mel forget momentarily about the ache in her leg. “You can do that by yourself.”

  “I can’t. Everything will die, the kids will be… upset. And we’ll make no money. And the air ambulances won’t get anything. The helicopters’ll all rust for want of the oil our charitable donations would have bought and—”

  Mel held her hand up to stop Ruby’s over-exaggerated, totally fabricated story from going any further as an image of her most recent patient, his leg turned at an angle and his face screwed up in pain, slid into Mel’s vision. The helicopter had landed on the coastal path, a few feet away. They’d managed to get the truck off the road for a minute or so before the terrain had become too treacherous. The walk to the patient had taken half an hour.

  We need more HEMS crews, more specially trained individuals, especially when there’s so much countryside. Mel sighed, patted her thighs, and glanced up at the ceiling. “Fine—”

  “Amazing!”

  “It’s for a good cause.”

  “How much do you know about tending plants?”

  The thought of working with Ruby for however many weeks made Mel gather herself inwardly. But the glint of making money for the Air Ambulance tamped down the flames somewhat. The thought of being around to watch Ruby struggle with the children was quite pleasant, as well. “My dad had an allotment the whole time we were growing up.” Mel drained her juice, feeling a little bit like she was being interviewed for a job. She supposed it wasn’t far from the truth. “He taught me most things. Vegetables, flowers, fruit. He had a greenhouse and heated propagators on the window ledge in the spare room.”

  The smile that spread over Ruby’s face was full of relief. “Then I reckon you’re just the woman for the job.”

  “Once I’ve got this cast off, I guess I’m all yours.”

  “You really mean it? You’ll help?” Anxiety swam through Ruby’s voice.

  Mel reached forward and patted her fidgeting hands. “Yes, I will.”

  Chapter 5

  James brought their coffees through into Mel’s conservatory, his eyes glinting with excitement. “There’s a reason I come here for coffee: real proper coffee, from grounds.”

  “And all your girlfriend gets is instant?” Mel smirked and closed her eyes at him in an expression of thanks.

  “There’s something luxurious about proper coffee.”

  “Maybe you should do the shopping? Rather than leaving it to her?”

  “Then there’d be no point in me coming around to yours.”

  “Apart from the fantastic company?”

  James flopped back into the wicker chair and sighed. “Apart from that.”

  Epione sauntered in, her tiny white paws silent on the tiles of the conservatory. She meowed and stretched at Mel’s feet, then hunkered down and hopped softly next to her on the chair. Mel stroked her head with her other hand, and the cat closed her eyes in contentment.

  They sipped in silence for a while; their comradery continuing even when they weren’t at work. They’d had a few tough shifts together recently, and Mel felt like they needed a long holiday together, somewhere sunny and warm. But her conservatory, and good, real coffee, would have to do for the moment.

  James hummed into his mug and set it down, folding his hands over his podgy belly. “Uni okay? How are you finding the lectures?”

  Mel knew why he was asking and nodded. “Yeah. They gave me a laptop and I’m making sure to use my Dictaphone every lesson. When I get home, I listen back to it and amend anything I’ve missed or written down wrong.”

  “That’s good. So it’s not too much of a struggle?”

  “I have been to uni before, you know.” Mel glared at him and wiggled her head.

  “I know, I know. Just checking they’re supporting you enough.”

  “They are. Thank you.”

  Apparently appeased by this, James moved on. “So, what are you going to do with those tickets?”

  “I’ve no idea.” Mel tapped her fingertips against the arm of her own armchair and watched a sparrow flitting back and forth from her bird feeder in her garden. He’s probably trying to get fat for winter. Don’t worry, little guy, I’ll keep putting seed out. Epione watched the birds too. Mel grunted, realising her brain was avoiding the question. “Can’t you come with me?”

  “Can’t. It’s Jade’s birthday. You literally couldn’t have got theatre tickets for a worse day.”

  “Well, there’s no way I’m going by myself.” She wiggled her cast about on the footstool James had pulled over for her earlier. “Those steps would kill me, and you know my track record with falling over things.” She indicated her mangled leg. “Hence the cast.”

  “If you will go cycling into park benches.”

  “I swear, it sprang out of nowhere.” They grinned at one another, and James went back to his coffee.

  “So, what? Give them to someone else.” He raised his eyebrows. “You do have other friends, don’t you?”

  “You are my one and only,” Mel whined, pushing her bottom lip out.

  James chuckled. “Wouldn’t your dad like to go?”

  “Even if he could, he wouldn’t enjoy it.”

  “Why not?”

  “An all-female version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream?” She shook her head. “He’s accepting, but not that accepting.”

  “Shame.” James murmured his pleasure into his coffee again. “No lady friends on the horizon?”

  “Lady friends? What are you, my grandmother?” She poked her tongue out at him, and the cat purred noisily as Mel scratched her between the shoulders. “No. No one I’d take to the theatre.”

  “You don’t have any non-potentially-romantic friends you could take?”

  “Everyone’s busy.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s just little old me, all alone.”

  “Didums.”

  They snorted into their coffees and continued to relax in the October sun.

  Wednesday rolled around again, and Mel found herself alone on her journey from the taxi. She managed it, making sure she didn’t pull the door into her legs as she nearly had the week before. She limped through the sunshine into the university and made her way into her block.

  There were a few students in her class, and only one was older than her. She felt a bit of a connection with the man in his fifties—a nurse looking for a new set of skills before his rapidly approaching retirement. Mel thought he was fickle, spending so much money on a qualification he would only then use for a few years, but she supposed no one knew how long they had. The retirement age in the NHS was getting older: newly qualified staff members would be hitting seventy before they got their NHS pension.

  I’ll be battered and broken before then. She took her seat, and during the lesson everyone was helpful, handing her things and taking things back. But they still managed to treat her like one of them, not the old codger who needed a nursing home. Always good.

  She took her Dictaphone with her every week having explained to everyone why she needed it. She wore her glasses when she read, whether it was up close in a book or on the projector. She took her time writing notes and didn’t push herself too hard—she knew she’d have time later to rewrite or complete anything she’d missed.

  At lunchtime, Mel followed the rest of her class into the canteen, her lunchbox securely stowed in her backpack. She went to get a coffee and left the younger students to it, looking around for somewhere quieter to sit. Her brain nee
ded a break; the information was starting to whirl in her mind and give her a headache. The medications for her leg would help with that.

  When she spotted Ruby sitting alone by the window, she changed her mind. Perhaps a little company would be okay.

  Ruby saw her a few feet away and smiled, reinforcing the notion that she might be wanted.

  Mel sat and took her lunch out of her bag, setting it smartly on the table in front of her.

  “Hello.” Ruby peered into Mel’s lunchbox. “So your diet doesn’t entirely consist of burgers and chips.”

  “To be fair to me, you last saw me eating a toasted sandwich which contained tomatoes.” Mel took the sandwich out of her box and parted the bread slices to reveal the salad within. “Tomatoes are a super food.”

  “Is that what they are?” Ruby’s smile grew. “Listen.” She placed her fork down and watched as Mel took a bite of her sandwich. “I want to apologise for last week.” She nodded, once. “And back in the summer.”

  “Why? Because you were an idiot?” Mel spoke around a mouthful of lettuce and mayonnaise.

  Ruby’s face twisted. “Perhaps swallow before you speak?”

  Mel rolled her eyes and obediently closed her mouth.

  “I ought to say sorry for my behaviour.”

  Mel nodded.

  “I was, as you would say, an idiot.”

  “Mmhm.”

  “If we’re going to be friends, as I assume we are, due to our looming gardening adventure, we should perhaps agree to show full respect.”

  Mel finally swallowed and frowned at her. “‘We’?”

  “Okay, me… I should.” Ruby’s gaze held Mel’s steadily. “Would that be all right?”

  “No more gung-ho comments?”

  “Absolutely not.” Ruby held up three fingers in a Girl Guide salute.

  Mel waited for a few seconds, just to make Ruby squirm, before taking another bite of her sandwich and nodding. “Okay.”

  Ruby held her hand up over her eyes, blocking Mel’s salad-filled mouth from her vision.

  Mel put her hand over her lips and tried not to laugh. She swallowed and nodded. “Sorry.”

  Ruby continued with her salad, stabbing a piece of beetroot with her fork. “So, I suppose we should get to know one another. Make friends properly.”

  “Good idea.” Mel grinned. “What shoe size are you?”

  Ruby’s amused gaze caught her own. “You’re a joker, aren’t you?”

  “Just like making you smile,” Mel said, and then blinked, wondering where the flirtatiousness had come from. She shook her head in disbelief and went back to her sandwich. “So how’s the fundraising going?”

  “I have a plan. My daughter, Chloe, is going to help me with social-media advertising. Get the project out there. And then, I think, a garden party for the tombola and plant sale at the end of the season. Maybe some food.”

  “What about some live music, or something? Get a local musician to come play?”

  The skin by Ruby’s eyes crinkled. “Fantastic idea. I’ll do some detective work.”

  “And send letters to the shops close to uni. They’ll often donate items to be used as prizes for raffles and things.”

  “See, I knew you’d be perfect to help with this.”

  A few minutes of silence stretched between them as they ate.

  Ruby tapped her fork on her plastic container. “I was going to ask you how your course was going, but I suppose it’s early days.”

  “It’s tough,” Mel admitted, nodding. “So much information packed in, but the lecturers are great, and the way they teach is good. Easy to listen to. Lots of demonstrations and images.” She picked up a fallen piece of tomato and gestured with it to Ruby. “How are your classes going?”

  “They’re okay so far. I have one student I’m a bit wary of, seems to enjoy playing me up.” Ruby furrowed her eyebrows, and then shook her head. “I’m sure they’ll settle down.”

  “What do you like to do?” Mel asked. “In your spare time, I mean.”

  “I walk my dog; housework…”

  “They’re jobs. I mean what do you really enjoy?” Mel popped the tomato slice in her mouth and chewed. “I like watching old films. I like hanging out with my ECA, James. You’d think we’d see enough of each other in our job, but apparently not.”

  “How long have you been together?”

  “Since I qualified. I’ve done bank shifts with other ECAs but no one quite lives up to his impeccable skills.” Mel touched the side of her neck. “He arrives with equipment before I’ve even asked for it, even going as far as to get me the correct sized cannula.”

  “He sounds perfect.”

  “We’re like an old married couple. Without the bickering.” Mel drank a large mouthful of coffee. “So come on: hobbies.”

  “Well, whatever you say, I do like to walk my dog. Especially if we go to the beach, which rarely happens as I live in town.” Tapping her chin, Ruby hummed a bit in thought. “I like going to art galleries. The theatre. Cinema.” She chuckled. “Usual things, I suppose.”

  “Watching anything good on TV?”

  “I like crime dramas and things like that. Things that make you think.”

  “Medical dramas?”

  “God no, are you kidding? The things they get wrong.”

  Mel laughed. “Yeah. Tell me about it. The number of times I’ve watched someone shock asystole.”

  “Why stop an already motionless heart?” Ruby countered, her face alight.

  “Exactly.” They exchanged a smile.

  “Nice to see we have something in common.”

  “It is.” Mel tongued the inside of her bottom lip. “Um, did you say you like the theatre?”

  “I do.” Ruby looked at her curiously. “Why?”

  Mel hesitated. Should she ask? They barely knew each other, but at least she’d be in good hands if she struggled getting in and out of the ancient building. Ruby had already shown herself to be adept in assisting broken people, and she did it once a month when she worked a shift. But perhaps Ruby wasn’t the kind of person who liked all-female productions of Shakespeare. “There’s this play I have tickets for,” she began, throwing caution to the wind, having no one else to ask. “It’s at the Royal. Shakespeare.”

  “I do like Shakespeare,” Ruby replied.

  Mel nodded. “Well, it’s a feminist take on… on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

  Ruby’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Mel found she was holding her breath. Would this be something Ruby would like? Would it be a concept that would shock her, and perhaps put her off being friends with Mel?

  I do like her, despite her flaws. Mel decided she cared how Ruby felt.

  “Sounds interesting,” Ruby said, and Mel exhaled, her shoulders dropping. “I saw an all-female Macbeth once. Very well done.”

  “Okay.” Mel nodded, and stared into her yogurt after peeling back the lid. “The thing is…”

  “Spit it out, Mel.”

  Mel took an entire spoonful of yogurt into her mouth and swallowed before continuing. “I have two tickets. And I was going to go alone after… well. But obviously now I can’t. The Royal has these big stone steps, and the seats are hell if you only have one leg to stand on…” She figured that was enough. If Ruby didn’t fancy it, she couldn’t do much more to convince her.

  “When is it?”

  “This Saturday.”

  “You’ve managed to get a Saturday off work?”

  “Just how the shifts have fallen.”

  “Your ECA?”

  “Out with his girlfriend.” Mel got the feeling she was about to be let down.

  There was another long pause. Ruby sipped from her water bottle, filled again with some kind of purple liquid. Mel wondered whether it was wine. That thought made her laugh inter
nally.

  “Would you like me to come with you?” Ruby asked, her voice making Mel jump after the previous silence.

  “Um…” Mel swirled her spoon in her yogurt and then looked up.

  Ruby’s face was open, her smile soft but genuine.

  “Yeah, that would be great, actually.”

  “When shall I pick you up?”

  Mel’s eyebrows rose. “Okay. Um. Seven? The play starts at seven-thirty.”

  “Shall we have dinner first?”

  “Oh, of course. I’ll buy you dinner, as a thank you for coming with me.”

  Ruby had her phone out in an instant and was flicking through something on the screen. “All right. Shall I book a table at Pizza Spice? It’s just up the road from the theatre. You won’t have to walk so far then.”

  Unused to having someone take control and decide things for her, Mel blinked at Ruby, until she looked up.

  “Earth to Mel? Dinner? Italian? Or would you prefer something else?”

  “No, that’s fine. I love pizza.” I’ll just get it all down myself, but hey, what’s new. She inwardly rolled her eyes.

  “Dinner for two at six? Gives us plenty of time to get to the theatre then.”

  “Okay.”

  Ruby put down her phone after apparently booking the table online and went back to her drink. Mel ate the rest of her yogurt, wondering what on earth she had agreed to.

  Dinner and the theatre. Isn’t that a first date kind of a thing?

  Ruby was bouncing on her feet by Friday. I’ve not been to the theatre in months, and not with someone else to keep me company. How lovely. As she taught her last class of the week—a seminar with a small group of first years—she rubbed her palms together, the anticipation of the night out making her restless.

  “If everyone could open their text books to page sixteen and take a look at the diagrams there, that would be lovely.”

  Everyone did as they were told, apart from a young pupil with dark hair and dark eyes who seemed to think looking out of the window rather than focussing on the aforementioned diagram was the way to go.