The Promise of Summer

by Bella Osborne

  ‘Who knows their own number anyway?’ Ruby waved her hands about.

  ‘Most people,’ said Curtis.

  ‘No, they don’t. Normal people get the other person’s number and then give it a quick call. They don’t remember all those digits.’

  ‘A friend’s phone number then? Perhaps we can call them and ask them for your number.’ Curtis returned his eyes to his phone screen, his thumbs poised.

  Ruby bit her lip. She had no idea of anyone’s number. ‘They’re all in my phone.’

  ‘Parents?’

  ‘She …’ Her pause made him look up. ‘She died.’ The statement took the wind out of her sails. Every time she had to tell someone it took her by surprise. The renewed shock that her mother was actually gone was like a physical slap.

  Curtis put his phone away. His expression softening. ‘I see. And this happened recently, did it?’

  ‘Eight months ago.’ She felt the familiar lurch of her gut at the thought of her mum dying. Grief was her constant companion. A sneaky little bugger who she sometimes thought had disappeared but popped up unexpectedly.

  ‘And, you were close?’ he asked, whilst guiding her to sit on a nearby bench.

  ‘Very.’ It had always been just Ruby and her mum. As a single mother, she’d played the role of both parents and, to Ruby’s mind, had done an exceptional job. She was biased, of course, and it hadn’t been easy financially but she’d always felt they could face anything together. Although, it seemed, death had other ideas.

  ‘My mother died before her time too,’ said Curtis, and something passed between them – a shared sense of understanding. ‘I am very sorry for your loss,’ he added.

  ‘Thank you. You too.’

  There was an awkward silence thankfully broken by the sound of the approaching train.

  The trip back to Derby was quiet and uneventful. They were sitting across the aisle from each other because Curtis had to face the direction of travel. She felt a bit exposed having told Curtis about her mum’s death. But it had just tumbled out. Her friends had been hugely supportive at the time and Kim had been a life-saver, but the world had slowly moved on. People had stopped asking her how she was. Maybe they didn’t want to hear that she was sad every day, but that was the truth. But today was the start of her looking to the future. About her taking control and she was sure it was for the best.

  Derby station was announced and they both got up ready. Curtis had his finger poised over the exit button as if to reassure other passengers that he was prepared for the responsibility bestowed on him as the person nearest the door.

  Ruby craned her neck to look out of the window in all directions to see if she could catch a glimpse of Lewis. They left the train and Ruby darted about, not knowing where to look first, until a cough halted her.

  ‘I suggest we try lost property,’ said Curtis and he headed off towards the exit.

  The person at the counter said nothing had been handed in at all that day – they were back to square one.

  ‘But he could be anywhere,’ said Ruby, twirling her arms about and making Curtis take a step away from her. ‘The platform where he got off. The coffee shop. Another train.’

  This made Curtis stop walking. ‘Those are all possibilities. He could also have got on the next train. We could be chasing each other in circles. Perhaps we should have continued to London and waited for him there?’

  ‘Don’t say that now we’ve done this.’ She threw up her arms in despair.

  ‘Okay. Let’s at least search this station and make certain he isn’t here. You cover that side; I’ll do this. Meet back here in ten minutes.’

  ‘Okay.’ Ruby dashed off and began shouting Lewis’s name. She got some odd looks but she didn’t care. She was used to odd looks – her vintage outfits frequently prompted them. Her initial energy soon waned as there was no sign of Lewis anywhere. She decided to pop to the loo. When she came out Curtis was nearby.

  ‘Was he in there?’ asked Curtis, twitching an eyebrow.

  ‘I was being thorough,’ she said. ‘What’s the plan now?’

  ‘I need to get the next train to London. I suggest we discuss options on the way, assuming we can find seats together.’

  ‘If not, we can come up with a plan at the other end.’ Ruby was quite into the adventure. It felt a bit like the books she used to read as a child. They were only missing a couple of other people and a dog.

  ‘Actually, we can’t. I’ll be cutting it fine to make my meeting. So, I’ll have to head straight off.’

  ‘Hang on, I’ve got an appointment too. You can’t just dash off and take the ring. Lewis needs it.’

  ‘But I have a meeting.’

  ‘My appointment might be more important than your meeting.’ This was a pivotal point in Ruby’s life. It didn’t get much more important than that. Ruby folded her arms across her chest and stared him down.

  ‘I somehow doubt it. I am presenting the final analysis and recommendations for a multimillion-pound technical infrastructure replacement for a large financial institution.’ He nodded emphatically as if to say, ‘Beat that’.

  Ruby raised one eyebrow. ‘I’m getting a baby.’

  Chapter Four

  Kim concentrated hard on the excited bride-to-be explaining her vision for the perfect wedding while her young daughter viciously pulled the petals off a peony.

  ‘The theme for the flowers is natural woodland with accents of indigo and magenta,’ explained the woman.

  ‘When you say indigo, are you thinking blue like an iris or purple like those tulips over there?’ She pointed behind her customer. ‘Ooh,’ said Kim, spotting what the small child was doing. ‘I don’t think eating those petals is a good idea.’

  The mother spun around. ‘Are they poisonous?’

  ‘No, but I shouldn’t think they’ll do her much good.’

  ‘Oh, that’s fine. I believe in freedom of expression.’ She smiled at Kim, making her unsure how to respond. It appeared that ‘freedom of expression’ translated to doing whatever the heck she liked.

  ‘Do you think she’d prefer a biscuit?’

  The child dropped the petals and ran to Kim at the mention of the word ‘biscuit’, which was a reaction Kim could relate to. Recently, thanks to the menopause, biscuits were making up her main food group. Kim retrieved the biscuit barrel from the back room and offered the open tin to the little girl. She promptly snatched the tin from Kim and began sifting through the contents while her mother watched on with pride.

  ‘Anyway …’ began Kim, making a mental note to buy more. ‘What sort of colour are you picturing when you say indigo?’

  ‘Well, indigo,’ said the woman, scrunching up her features as if Kim had asked the most stupid question ever in the history of stupid questions.

  Kim wobbled her head to buy her some time to phrase her reply. As she got older she found she had to give herself a moment to avoid blurting out what she was thinking, which wasn’t always very customer-friendly. ‘Indigo is open to interpretation, so I want to be sure to get it right. Let me show you the sort of thing I mean.’

  Kim gathered some samples of flowers she had in: cornflower, forget-me-nots and irises, as well as showing her some example bouquet photos from her binder.

  The bride-to-be ummed and ahhed her way through them all before finally shaking her head. ‘No, none of those are indigo.’

  ‘Right. We can look at dyed flowers – that way you can get a near perfect colour match.’

  ‘Near perfect?’ She didn’t appear convinced.

  An hour later and Kim was wondering if it might be her who was losing the plot – she was pretty sure one of them was.

  ‘Let’s recap the bridesmaids,’ said Kim. ‘Eight trailing bouquets that each need to end just above the hem of their respective dress and are therefore bespoke to each bridesmaid. Although none of them should be on a par with or greater than the size of your bouquet. Four flower girls each with baskets of real petals in shades of indig
o and magenta with alternating flowers of those colours entwined around the handle.’ The bride-to-be nodded along while her daughter drew on the carpet with the last of Kim’s custard creams. ‘And finally, two doggy-maids with flower collars, one in indigo and one in magenta. Is that everything?’

  ‘Confetti. I want you to make confetti from tiny, weeny chopped-up real petals in shades of—’

  ‘Indigo and magenta?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the woman clapping her hands together.

  Save me, thought Kim. And to think she’d missed a cut and colour for this. Where was Ruby when she needed her?

  Curtis had been very quiet for the rest of the journey, so much for planning out their next steps – her baby announcement seemed to have killed conversation.

  ‘When you say you’re getting a baby, I’m assuming not an actual baby?’ he asked with a puckered brow.

  ‘Not an actual baby. No … but—’

  Curtis brightened. ‘That’s good then.’ He opened his laptop and she went back to her novel although her mind was somewhere else.

  He was quick to get to his feet a moment before the announcement came that they were arriving into St Pancras station.

  ‘Shall we spread out and search the station?’ asked Ruby, following his lead and packing her things away.

  ‘I’ve no time for that I’m afraid. But you feel free to check.’ They filed off the train.

  ‘What about getting the ring to Lewis at the London Eye before four o’clock? That’s when he said he was proposing.’

  ‘I think it would be best to hand it in to lost property.’

  ‘No!’ She said it louder than she’d intended, making a few passers-by give her a wider berth. ‘No. This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard of. And trust me I’ve read all the best romance novels. We absolutely have to get the ring to Lewis on time. Don’t he and his girlfriend deserve their happy ever after?’

  Curtis appeared confused by the question. ‘I believe there will be endless opportunities for Lewis to suggest marriage to this woman. It doesn’t have to be at four o’clock today.’

  ‘Yes, it does. We don’t want to be the people who wreck his plans. We want to help. Don’t we?’ She knew she was pleading but she wanted this to work out for Lewis. He’d seemed so nice and genuine. And if it had been her, she’d hope someone else would put themselves out to save the day.

  Curtis checked his watch. He pulled in a deep breath. ‘Where and what time are you getting … the um … baby? More importantly, what time will you be finished?’

  She did some rough calculations. ‘Done by three-ish and it’s in Newham.’ She almost sounded like she knew where she was going.

  ‘Newham is a huge area. Can you be more specific? What’s the nearest Tube station?’

  Ruby pulled the printed-off email from her bag and quickly scanned it. ‘West Ham.’

  Curtis stared at his watch. ‘Nearest Tube for the London Eye is Waterloo. It’s tight but West Ham and Waterloo are both on the Jubilee line, which makes it doable.’

  Ruby didn’t want to be, but she was impressed by his underground knowledge. ‘Hang on,’ said Ruby realising something. ‘You’re not coming with me for my … my … appointment.’

  ‘Are you prepared to go our separate ways and meet me at the London Eye?’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid you are going to have to come to my meeting and I am coming to your … appointment.’ His expression conveyed that he could barely believe what he was suggesting.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, and for no apparent reason she held out her hand for him to shake, which he cautiously did.

  ‘Right. Follow me.’

  She followed Curtis across St Pancras station. A sign flashed up to say which lines were closed due to essential maintenance. She was secretly pleased that she was with someone who knew where they were going. He instructed her on how to use her contactless debit card to get through the ticket barrier – it had been an extremely long time since she’d been on the Tube.

  A couple of escalators conveyed them to the depths of the underground. Curtis suddenly broke into a run. ‘Quick.’

  She didn’t have time to question him. He was already leaping onto a train. Ruby followed close behind as a now familiar beeping noise surrounded her. The doors closed with the speed of a guillotine but she was inside. However, when she went to move, she realised she was pinned to the door. It had managed to shut with her on the inside and her bag on the outside. She began frantically tugging on the bag handles but it wouldn’t budge. She started to panic. If she lost her bag her appointment would be off. She’d already lost a phone today; she couldn’t lose anything else. She tugged harder.

  Curtis appeared at her side, gripped the door firmly and forced it back open and, just like that, her bag was freed.

  ‘Thank heavens for that,’ she said. Curtis looked at his black-stained hands with dismay. ‘And thank you,’ she added.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Curtis pulling some hand gel and a pack of tissues from his bag. They moved further along the carriage where others were sitting but there was enough space for them to stand.

  ‘How many stops?’ asked Ruby, peering at the very long map on the wall.

  ‘Hold on tight,’ said Curtis and on cue the train took off, making Ruby lurch forward. She managed to grab the support post, but her weight continued travelling and the momentum swung her right around the pole. She lost her balance and couldn’t stop herself from falling. She landed with a bump.

  She wasn’t sure who was more surprised: her or the poor woman whose lap she landed on. Ruby burst into hysterical laughter. The woman’s face was stony. Ruby used the pole to pull herself to her feet. ‘I am so sorry,’ she said through the giggles. ‘Are you okay?’ The woman nodded but it was clear she didn’t want to discuss the matter and neither did she find it remotely amusing.

  Two stops later Ruby was still chuckling. It was the funniest thing she’d done in ages. Every time the woman glanced up Ruby mouthed another apology. As the train pulled into a station the poor woman made good her escape. Ruby apologised again and took her seat.

  ‘Don’t sit down – there’s only two more stops,’ said Curtis.

  ‘Did you do that without looking at the map?’

  It appeared his underground knowledge extended far beyond the Jubilee line. Ruby was soon entertaining herself by testing Curtis.

  ‘Liverpool Street to Mayfair,’ she said.

  ‘Mayfair isn’t a Tube station. Are you just citing places off the Monopoly board?’

  She was but she wasn’t going to admit it. ‘How about Liverpool Street to Wimbledon?’

  ‘Central line to Notting Hill Gate then District line,’ he replied. She loved how he pronounced all the words properly. His voice had a deep timbre and she thought how fabulous he’d be at narrating audio books.

  ‘Okay, what about Paddington to Covent Garden?’

  ‘Bakerloo to Piccadilly Circus, then Piccadilly line to Covent Garden.’ He puckered up his features. ‘I think we’ve established I have a good working knowledge of the Tube map.’

  ‘I’d love to go to Covent Garden,’ she said. It was one of those places that always seemed to be on people’s lists when they went to London and she wanted to see for herself what all the fuss was about.

  ‘What’s stopping you?’ asked Curtis.

  ‘I don’t often come to London.’ She’d been three times: once with school to see the crown jewels, once with her mum to see the Christmas lights, and the last time was on a hen weekend that ended very messily when they got kicked out of their B and B after too much tequila.

  ‘Really?’ he asked. Was he being sarcastic? She wasn’t sure.

  ‘Covent Garden’s not somewhere you go on your own though, is it?’

  ‘There’s no reason why you couldn’t go alone. It’s well lit and there are usually quite a few people. It’s relatively safe for a woman on her own.’

  He’d kind of
missed the point.

  The carriage flooded with light as they came into Bank Tube station. It was busy and she had to walk like a race walker to keep up with Curtis. He had long legs and an enviable stride. He did keep checking over his shoulder, every so often, which reassured her that he wasn’t trying to give her the slip. They seemed to walk a long way before popping out at another platform.

  ‘For crying out loud. How much further?’ asked Ruby, feeling a stitch in her side and a throbbing in her feet.

  ‘DLR,’ said Curtis.

  ‘PMT,’ said Ruby. They both looked equally confused.

  ‘DLR is Docklands Light Railway.’

  ‘Ahh. There was a sign at St Pancras saying there was essential maintenance being carried out on DLR and the something and city line.’

  ‘Neither of those relate to the section we need,’ he said.

  ‘I thought DLR was some text speak I wasn’t up on.’ Curtis gave her an odd look. ‘You know, like NVM.’

  Curtis appeared interested. ‘Do you mean Node Version Manager?’ he asked.

  ‘No. Never mind.’

  A train pulled in and Curtis ushered Ruby into the front carriage. There weren’t as many people on this one and they sat down at the front. It wasn’t until the train pulled away that Ruby let out a squeak of alarm. ‘There’s no driver.’ She was sitting at the very front of the train with a large glass screen in front of her and it was bombing along with no visible person driving it.

  ‘Relax. It’s a driverless train.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ She loosened her grip on the seat.

  Once her heart rate had returned to normal, she quite liked the view at the front, especially when it went above ground and then back under again. They arrived at Canary Wharf and Curtis set off on another march. Ruby felt like her head was spinning as they walked through what appeared to be a shopping centre. They passed a sandwich shop and her stomach growled.

  ‘Can we grab something to eat?’ she asked.

  ‘There will be coffee and food at the meeting.’

  ‘But I’m guessing that doesn’t include me.’