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The Lonely Heart Attack Club - One of the funniest, feel-good books you'll read this year! You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll love it!

Page 11

by J C Williams


  “Well, it wasn’t really speed dating, was it? More like leisurely shuffling dating,” said Jack.

  Emma looked knowingly. “It certainly didn’t slow Grandad down, did it? He was at more tables than a blackjack pro. He seemed to be getting fairly cosy with Hayley’s grandmother.”

  “He did,” nodded Jack. “I don’t think the bingo girls were particularly happy, though.”

  “We might get our first wedding. Wouldn’t that be wonderful,” said Emma.

  “She’s a bit too elegant for him, and besides, at that age do you think they still, you know?” asked Jack. “Maybe I could ask Derek,” he whispered.

  “You bloody do, and I’ll smash this plate on your head!” They both looked at Derek like proud parents as he worked the room attending to his customers. “It’s pretty amazing what we’ve done here,” said Emma. “We’ve not done anything earth-shattering, but it is making such a difference. Look at Ray, he’s lost nearly a stone and looks like he is ten years younger. Derek has a job and an excuse to get out of the house, and we now have fifty older people signed up to our social club and you’re a fitness coach for the Silver Sprinters.”

  “And I’m looking pretty fit, too!” said Jack approvingly. “I meant to say, that inspector chap — I forget his name — popped in earlier. Since our first social club and radio appearance, they’ve had thirteen calls from people who think they’ve been scammed previously or are currently in the process of being scammed. They knew it was common but even they were shocked by how many people were coming forward. They’re going to set up a stall in the shopping centre, Tesco’s, and a few other places and keep a couple of police in attendance to highlight scams. I’ve asked them to come along to the record attempt as well. They can keep an eye on that Kelvin Reed while he’s here!”

  Jack paused, clearly in deep thought. He was flustered and looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was within earshot. He was trying to build up the courage to speak, and Emma was amused to see him squirming. “Emma,” he said, struggling to look her in the eye. “When I was going to take you out for a steak, it was as friends. I know we’ve not really spoken about it, but after we nearly… you know.”

  “Know what?” asked Emma, enjoying the moment.

  Jack blushed like a nervous schoolboy. “You know! Well, the thing is, if we were going for a meal, purely as friends, I’d be relaxed and, well, me. But now that things may have taken a slightly different path, I’m almost… almost, a little nervous?”

  “Nervous!” laughed Emma. “It’s me, you tool, why would you be nervous?”

  He took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Whenever I meet a girl, I overthink things. My brain goes into overdrive and, sadly, that’s when things go tits-up. With you as a friend I relax but with something more I start to think about what to say, act, wear, and do.”

  “So are you saying you just want to stay friends?” asked Emma.

  “No,” Jack assured her. “Not in the slightest. What I’m trying to say to you is, don’t be surprised if I act a little… well, weird. When I go into dating mode, I’m hopeless, even more than usual. When I’m in dating mode I’m what you would consider a disappointment.”

  Emma looked at him sympathetically and leaned slowly forward, placing a tender kiss on his cheek. “Jack,” she whispered. “Don’t be such a bloody big tart. Honestly, just be you! There’s no need to try and be something you’re not. I know Jack Tate. I’ve known him most of my adult life, and, god knows why, but I like what I see. I really like the way you’ve embraced the work with older people. I like how you’ve become so compassionate and so wonderful, truly, a role model to society.”

  Jack groaned.” Aww, what now?”

  Emma tried to protest her innocence and feigned a look of shock whilst playfully pointing to herself.

  “You,” continued Jack. “l liked where you were going with that little speech. What are you buttering me up for?”

  She didn’t speak, but turned towards Derek, who was still diligently wiping the surfaces with impressive effort.

  Jack rolled his eyes. “I’ve just got enough for a deposit on my new scooter.”

  Emma looked at him with puppy-dog eyes.

  “It’s silver, it’s shiny, and it’s got a horn that works. The bike starts first time, every time. It really is nice, and it’s going to be mine. Ah, shit who am I kidding? I thought it myself, and was going to mention it to you.”

  Emma jumped up and down and continued to do the small girly clap thing she did. “You mean, we can…”

  “Yes!” said Jack. “You can tell Derek that we want to buy his flights to go to the christening.”

  “Yay!” shrilled Emma, giving him a lingering warm embrace.

  “What’s happening to me, Emma?”

  “You, Jack Tate, you’re turning into a selfless person, who does nice things for other people.”

  “What’s he done now?” asked Postman Pete. “And you’ve got a customer waiting while you two canoodle!”

  Jack looked lightheaded, and it was apparent that the cuddle had more of an effect than just gratitude — a bulging point in his apron that Pete was very willing to point out. “You never do that when I give you a cuddle!” he said.

  Jack wasn’t fazed as he moved closer to the counter to seek cover. “Pete, it’s been that long that I think even one of your cuddles would have set this thing off.”

  Pete looked confused, unsure whether to take it as a compliment, but he did attempt to arch his neck to gain another glimpse. He took an exceptionally small pile of envelopes and handed them to Jack. One advantage of the increase in trade was the decrease in needy mail, with people chasing you for outstanding payments.

  “Why are you looking like that?” asked Jack.

  Pete motioned towards the post, and there was a white envelope with a resplendent crest for The Guinness Book of World Records proudly on the front.

  “Ooh, Emma, come here,” he said, waving the envelope.

  He took a moment to read the contents. “It’s our confirmation that the assessors will be here on Saturday, twenty-third August to validate our world record claim for the world’s largest flower wall. We need to get to two-hundred-ten feet long with a height of no smaller than eight feet. Shit, that sounds a lot when you read it. A week on Saturday and we could be world record holders.”

  Dazed by the sheer magnitude of the task before him, he opened the other envelope. He glanced through its contents, and his overwhelmed-yet-hopeful demeanour was quickly replaced with one of disbelief.

  Emma looked concerned. “What is it?”

  Jack took a moment to digest the contents. “It’s the bloody town hall. They’ve refused our permit to have the event in the Sunken Gardens.”

  “No. They can’t, can they?” protested Emma.

  Jack looked frustrated. “They have done! Ah, well. That’s it, then, isn’t it?”

  “We can’t give up now,” said Emma. “We’ve put too much into it and we’ve raised thousands of pounds.”

  Jack looked slightly offended. “Don’t be daft, I’m not giving up. We’ll just find somewhere else to do it. Anyway, I’m more worried about where to take you on our date!”

  Pete looked like his head was about to explode. “What? A date?” He did that girly clap that Emma insisted on doing, and he produced an equally feminine squeal. “Oh, it’s so exciting! We could do a double date!”

  “Who are you bringing?” asked Emma. “And are you sunburnt?” she said, referring to his bright red forehead.

  Pete was slightly hurt. “You don’t need to sound so surprised.”

  Jack had tuned out, returning to serve an elderly lady looking for a cup of Earl Grey tea. He didn’t pay much attention to his own love life so the prospect of discussing Pete’s was not overly appealing.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” said Emma. “I just didn’t realise you were seeing anyone?”

  Desperate to share his news, he quickly forgot the slight on his d
ating abilities. “Well… I’m not, technically. I’ve been seeing quite a bit of this man who is absolutely beautiful — tanned and very muscled.”

  “Ohh, who, and does he have a brother?” said Emma.

  “You’re spoken for! His name is Eric, and he runs the tanning salon next to the harbour. I drop his post in and he’s totally been giving me the signals.”

  Jack heard the name Eric and tuned in. “Eric?” he said, as he passed over the Earl Grey. “Blond-haired and well-stacked?”

  Pete’s eyes widened. “Yes, but I haven’t found out about the stacked department… yet.”

  “Sorry, Pete,” continued Jack. “You need to buy yourself a new gaydar device. I know Eric from the gym, and trust me, he’s not gay. I’ve seen his girlfriend, and she’s absolutely smoking hot.”

  Emma looked a little hurt but, owing to the infancy of their relationship, thought it a little premature to chastise him at this stage. She would, however, store that comment for a later date.

  Pete’s shoulders dropped. “He can’t be straight. I mean, he’s immaculately dressed and looks after himself. Oh, I’m gutted. Emma, he’s gorgeous as well. I’ve been in using his sunbeds every night this week. I’ve risked skin cancer for a bloody straight man.”

  Emma placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. “At least you technically got into his bed, if that’s any consolation?”

  “That’s right,” said Pete. “I don’t need to tell people it was a sunbed! Anyway, I must continue, and I want to hear all about this date. In every detail!” he said, loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear.

  “Well, that’s one job we don’t need to do,” said Jack.

  Emma looked blankly. “What job?”

  “Telling the Isle of Man that we’re dating. Because the sunburnt mouthpiece will tell the whole of Douglas by the end of the day.”

  “So, we’re officially dating, are we? Can I tell all my girlfriends that my boyfriend is really dreamy?”

  Jack smiled and threw his tea towel in her direction. He’d been racking his brains about where to take her on their first date, assuming she’d agree to the suggestion. He was still no further forward and now he had to figure out an alternate venue for the record attempt. It didn’t need much, just space for a 210-foot wall and room for potentially hundreds of spectators and volunteers to hang up their flowers and potentially the worlds press desperate to get their first glimpse of the green-fingered deviant Kelvin Reed. What could possibly go wrong? he thought.

  Nothing could disconcert him at the moment. He was probably the happiest he’d been at any stage in his life. The tables in their shop were full, and as he looked at Emma, he struggled to conceive that anyone so beautiful — both inside and out — would want to go on a date with him. He’d grown up, and knew what a fantastic opportunity this was for him. The next two weeks could shape his future and he was determined he wouldn’t cock it up.

  .

  Chapter Ten

  E mma had never had a car sent for her before. She climbed into the taxi with the destination unknown and it felt exhilarating. She’d no desire to be a call girl, but for a fleeting moment it felt like she was a high-class hooker being collected on behalf of a billionaire oil baron. The questionable personal hygiene of the driver soon brought her back to reality like she’d been hit with smelling salts. He was pleasant enough, but Emma was abnormally quiet. She was nervous; not only was it her first date in months, it was a date with Jack. She’d spent the afternoon desperately searching for a clue of their destination, if only to know how to dress, but Jack had given nothing away other than telling her to dress warmly. This had thrown her, as she’d had a skimpy but elegant dress singled out for their first date. But she had to err on the side of caution, instead opting for jeans and comfortable boots, and fortunately it was a relatively mild evening, as it turned out. As for Jack, he was hopeless at keeping secrets, so the fact she had no idea where she was going impressed her, and every time the car should happen to slow, she wondered if they’d reached their destination.

  In addition to the TT races, the Isle of Man is also famous for its railways — both steam and electric — and Emma smiled as the taxi eventually pulled up to the electric tram terminal, a railway that had connected the Island’s capital, Douglas, with Laxey in the east and Ramsey in the north of the Island. The tramcars were the epitome of Victorian workmanship, with some closed to the elements and others open for the adventurous to enjoy the bracing Manx breeze. She’d loved travelling on the trams as a child, but like many things on your doorstep, it’d been years since her last trip.

  Jack emerged from a bus shelter as the taxi came to halt. Like a gentleman, he opened the door for her, and the smell of the driver caused him to recoil.

  “That’s not me,” she whispered, discreetly pointing in the general direction of the driver.

  Ordinarily, Jack would have made a quip about Emma not wearing enough deodorant, but he resisted. He paid the taxi driver and closed the door as soon as possible.

  “You look lovely,” said Jack.

  “No, I don’t,” protested Emma. “I’m dressed warm, as instructed. So... where are we going?”

  “All will be revealed, but I hope you’re hungry,” said Jack, ushering her to climb aboard the rear carriage, which fortunately for ‘it’s freezing in here’ Emma, was a closed one.

  Jack was dressed in a pair of smart dark denim jeans with a light blue hoody, and took a seat at the rear of the carriage. He looked towards the ticket inspector, and as soon as the fellow’s back was turned, Jack produced two miniature bottles of champagne and two plastic flutes which he’d smuggled down his top.

  As the signal was given to leave the station, the inspector gave a final peep on his whistle. Jack used the flurry of activity to pop the corks. “Cheers!” he said, filling the glasses.

  He thought they had the carriage to themselves until the final moment when an excitable couple jumped aboard. They were fairly old and judging by the accents, were visitors to the Isle of Man. They took separate seats at the front of the carriage so they could each have a window seat, and by their attire and binoculars, they were clearly train aficionados. The tram burst into life and pulled up the slight gradient out of Douglas and towards the next stop in Laxey, where they would alight to join the mountain railway — another electric tram — that concluded at the Isle of Man’s highest point: Snaefell Mountain. The tram gave a window into the stunning countryside on one side and magnificent sea views on the other. It wasn’t difficult to understand how Victorian tourists would have been captivated by both the technical brilliance to build the railway and by the scenery, which it framed so well.

  “I love this,” said Emma, with a beaming smile. “Champagne and that view. I always feel nostalgic when I come on this. I’d love to have seen the Island in its heyday.”

  The motion of the tram was hypnotic and without notice, Emma removed one hand from her glass and placed it on top of Jack’s as they continued to absorb the sea views.

  “It doesn’t feel weird?” said Jack.

  Emma looked puzzled. “What doesn’t?”

  “This… us… It doesn’t feel weird. I was worried that I’d feel like we were uncomfortable, but I don’t, I feel at ease.”

  Emma smiled and increased the grip she had on his hand. “It feels nice!”

  Jack paused, clearly building up to another question. “Emma,” he said sheepishly. “Do you think it would be weird to see each other… naked?”

  She nearly spat her champagne over the seat in front. “Naked! You’re being a bit presumptuous, aren’t you?”

  “No… sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I wondered if you thought it would be weird to see me naked, or if it would feel like you were looking at your best mate, in the buff.”

  “Jack, I’ve seen you naked dozens of times. Are you forgetting the dressing room incident?”

  “True,” said Jack. “But what about seeing the ‘old chap,’ as it were? Do you think th
at would be strange?”

  “Seeing it?” laughed Emma. “I felt it prodding into me when I gave you a cuddle in the shop.”

  Jack blushed. “Oh, I thought I’d got away with that. It’s been a while, so it doesn’t take a lot to kick it into action.”

  “Oh, thanks!” said Emma. “And if I’m being honest, I wasn’t that impressed. In fact I nearly didn’t come tonight!”

  “I told you I was a disappointment!” laughed Jack. “But at least you now know what you’re getting, I suppose.”

  “Again, somewhat presumptuous! Besides, you were looking at Pete at the time?”

  Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it’s that postman uniform, it really does it for me.”

  The champagne bottles were soon emptied under the nose of the inspector. They felt like wayward schoolchildren at the back of the bus. “Do you think we’ll end up like them?” asked Emma. “All old and cute, happy in each other’s company?”

  Jack was surprised, but the thought was a pleasant one for him. He smiled at Emma and then at the elderly couple now attached to their binoculars like wartime observers. “it wouldn’t be the worst thing, would it? We’ll be retired with a string of coffee shops and you’ll still be disappointed by the size of my appendage.”

  “But, hopefully not your bank balance!” said Emma.

  The tram soon pulled into the Laxey station, where they alighted to join their next tram. As they pulled out of the quaint mining village, with views of the famous Great Laxey Wheel, the lush glens and valleys were replaced with the vast hills and views towards the Island’s only mountain, Snaefell. The scenery was sublime, to Ramsey in the North and back towards Douglas from where their journey had commenced. Emma was pleased she chose a warm layer, as the temperature dropped noticeably the higher they climbed. Their elderly travelling companions had joined them for the final leg of the journey and looked agape as they absorbed the rolling Manx countryside. The lights flashed to bring vehicles crossing the mountain road to a halt and as they crossed at the Bungalow section of the TT course, Emma waved to the passengers whose journey had come to a temporary halt. It was a highlight for children to see the tram passing by and the tradition of waving was one instilled in her as a child and one she was pleased to continue. She nudged Jack in the ribs to ensure his participation.

 

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