Million Love Songs

by Carole Matthews

  Charlie gives me a sideways glance. It looks as if she wants to tell me.

  ‘You know about my tacky threesome,’ I remind her with a nudge. ‘It can’t be any worse than that.’

  She tries a laugh. ‘Nothing’s worse than that!’

  ‘There you go then.’

  She sighs at me. ‘He was a nightmare, Ruby. A proper nightmare. Abusive in every way that you could think – emotionally, physically.’ I feel sick that she hasn’t been able to confide in me until now. ‘I didn’t mean to keep it a secret. I just never tell anyone.’

  ‘He sounds like a total shit.’ At least with all our troubles, Simon never threatened me. I don’t know how I would have coped with that. ‘He’s gone now though.’

  ‘Yeah. At least I hope so. Knob.’ She tries to make light of it, but I can tell that it still hurts her. ‘Even though the bruises had long gone and I had new locks on my door, it still felt as if he was in my life. He’d ground me down for so long that I struggled to manage without him.’

  ‘Oh, Charlie.’

  ‘Seems a stupid thing to say, right?’ I look at the tears welling in her eyes and want to brush them away. ‘It’s OK. Everything’s fine now. His job took him to another part of the country – thank God – and slowly my life returned to normal. More or less.’ Charlie studies the floor. ‘There are still times when some small thing reminds me of him and I’m right back there. I feel sick just thinking about him. Unless it’s happened to you, you don’t know how it feels. How it saps your confidence, drains every ounce of joy out of life. It took me so long to recover, I couldn’t return to that.’

  ‘I don’t blame you.’

  ‘So that’s why I stick to Gary. He’s never going to hurt me or let me down. He’s never going to break my ribs or knock out my teeth or pull out chunks of my hair. Gary sings me to sleep every night and I don’t have to do a single thing in return. I don’t have to worry about what mood he’s going to come home in because he’s never going to do that.’

  ‘You’ve got so much to offer though. It makes for a lonely life keeping everyone at arm’s length. Don’t you want to settle down, to have children?’

  ‘The only saving grace of our relationship was that we never had kids, otherwise I’d never have been entirely rid of him. I’ve got a friend in a similar situation and she has a son. Every week she has to take him to a supervised visit to play happy families with the man who tried to choke the life out of her. At least I don’t have to do that.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Charlie. I had no idea.’

  She shrugs. ‘Like I said, I don’t talk about it if I can help it. That’s the other thing, they make it feel like it’s all your fault. If only you were funnier, prettier, better in some way then this wouldn’t be happening. It took me years to come to terms with the fact that he was an out-and-out shit and there was nothing more complicated than that about it.’

  ‘So Nice Paul’s on a hiding to nothing? He’s not the same man, you know. Wouldn’t you even give him a chance?’

  ‘I can’t risk it again,’ she says, sadly. ‘Perhaps I’m just not over it yet. Maybe I never will be. It leaves scars, stuff like that. Some you can see, some you can’t. The false front teeth are a permanent reminder of the damage that rushing into a relationship can cause.’ She taps a finger to them. ‘Paul’s a great mate. I like him a lot, but …’

  She doesn’t need to say any more. I won’t talk about it any longer or even tease her. If it’s not to be, that’s Charlie’s choice. I just want her to be happy and if even it means that she’s most contented by herself, then so be it. I’ll always be there for her, as she is for me. I put my hand on her arm. ‘Thanks for telling me.’

  ‘Thanks for being a mate,’ she says in return.

  Then, before I can say anything else, Nice Paul comes back, still smiling affably, balancing three teas on a tray, and my heart goes out to him.

  ‘The queues!’ he exclaims as he sits down beside us and hands out the tea.

  I don’t think Nice Paul has it in his heart to hurt anyone, but then what do I know about men? I currently have too many of them or none at all.

  ‘I have a gift for you both,’ I say and I delve in my bag to find the ‘Keep Calm and listen to Gary Barlow’ mugs I bought. ‘This has been a lovely day. Thanks for including me.’

  I hand them over and they both go into throes of ecstasy.

  ‘This is so cool,’ Charlie says and kisses me. ‘You’re not to borrow it when you come to my house.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.

  ‘The perfect mantra to live your life by,’ Paul says with a grin as he admires his present.

  They both kiss me again and I think it’s such a shame that they’ll never get together as they’re so well matched.

  I think of Mason Soames and Joe Edwards. Both nice guys. Both with complications. I should be like Charlie and be content on my own. I don’t need a man. Of that, I’m sure. The tribute act starts up again and we kick back to enjoy the set. Gary Barlow’s going to be the only one for me too.

  As Alan Banks from Barnsley croons ‘It Only Takes a Minute’ I think, sadly, that it’s going to take Charlie a hell of a lot longer than a minute to fall in love.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Despite my affirmation that Gary Barlow is going to be the only man for me from now on, I still find myself rushing to my scuba-diving lesson, heart a-flutter, stomach in knots – something that last happened when I was about fifteen – only to be disappointed that I’ve got Bob again. Three weeks in a row. Joe, on the other hand, is nowhere to be seen.

  To be honest with you, there’s nothing wrong with Bob. He’s a good, solid instructor with the patience of a saint. It’s fair to say that I am not one of scuba-diving’s naturals. I can’t remember what to do with what thing and I wonder if I’m ever going to be good enough to let loose in open water. Yet I’m probably learning more about scuba-diving with Bob than I would with Joe as I don’t have the unbridled urge to stare at him wistfully or long to see his naked bottom. I keep telling myself that I’m much better off with an instructor who has a pot-belly and a comb-over. I go to the pub with them all afterwards but, frankly, it’s just not the same.

  I miss Joe. That’s the truth of the matter. I think about him a lot. When I’m in bed – even though cardboard cut-out Gary Barlow is available – when I’m in the bath, when I’m serving in the pub. Which means that a lot of diners are inadvertently getting someone else’s chips by mistake. My bad.

  Before work, Charlie and I sit on what we lovingly call ‘our bench’ and discuss the situation. It’s pushing on towards summer with a vengeance and Jay has put out a load of new hanging baskets all round which look a bit pathetic now, but I’m sure will soon be heavy with the type of flowers you put in hanging baskets. Gardening isn’t among my skill set either, in case you were wondering. He bought one too many, so had a spare which he’s put round by the bins to cheer up our ‘office’, as he calls it.

  ‘You’re as miserable as sin,’ Charlie remarks as she vapes. ‘Look at you. Just because I’m sworn off men, it doesn’t mean that you still can’t dabble.’

  ‘I dabbled with Mason Soames and look where that got me.’

  ‘Ben behind the bar says he’s been doing the Grand Prix season. I don’t even know if that’s a thing. Apparently, he’s jetting off here, there and everywhere to watch the racing.’ She looks at me bewildered. ‘Why do that when you can watch it on telly?’

  ‘Atmosphere,’ I say knowingly when, in reality, I know nothing at all.

  Charlie rolls her eyes.

  ‘Besides, it’s not Mason that I miss.’ Though I do wonder how Ben behind the bar knows his every move when I, who have recently shared his bed, don’t. ‘I like him and we have a great laugh together, but he’s not relationship material. Joe on the other hand …’ I take the opportunity to go all dreamy.

  ‘Is a family man with a whole heap of commitments,’ Charlie chips in.

  Trust re
ality to intrude.

  ‘You’ve not met these mythical kids yet?’

  ‘We haven’t even really had a proper date. It’s far too soon to be thinking of all that.’

  ‘You might hate them. They could be little shits. The kind of kids who run around restaurants and cough with their mouths open.’

  ‘They’re teenagers. Wouldn’t they be past that?’

  ‘Teenagers?’ Charlie shudders as if I’ve said ‘axe murderers’. ‘They might have even worse habits.’

  ‘I like kids,’ I tell her, even though I’m not really sure that I do. ‘At my age, I’m not going to find that many men without them.’

  ‘Except the Shagger Soameses of the world.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘So you like Joe. Make the first move. He might just need a little persuasion if he’s been out of the dating game since the time when the dinosaurs roamed the earth. It’s pants out there. If you wait for him to come to you, it might never happen.’

  ‘That thought is too depressing.’ I pull a leaf off the hanging basket and set about tearing it into pieces. ‘He said he’d phone me for coffee, but weeks have gone by and he hasn’t.’

  ‘Maybe he’s got cold feet? Maybe he needs a little persuasion? It shows you that he was up for it, if he said that.’

  Charlie could be right. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Then grasp the whatsit by the horns. We’re modern women,’ she states, ‘we should take the initiative. Bake him some cakes. They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’

  ‘Yeah, perhaps I should have knocked up a Victoria sponge for Mason rather than have a threesome with him.’

  ‘Thank goodness it wasn’t a threesome and Victoria sponge. That would have been too weird.’ Charlie laughs and it lifts my mood.

  ‘I’m no domestic goddess,’ I confess. ‘I can’t bake to save my life. I don’t think I’ve actually switched on the oven since I moved into the granny annexe. I’m a microwave kinda gal.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, woman, use your imagination,’ Charlie says. ‘Buy some cake from Sainsbury’s. Take them to that place where he works as a pressie for the residents. Show him your sharing, caring side rather than your pants.’

  I hate to admit it, but that sounds like a damn fine idea and I wonder why I didn’t think of it myself.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  So the next day, before I’m due on shift, I find myself buying nice cakes in Sainsbury’s. Not the ones in boxes down the aisles, but proper ones from the bakery – cupcakes with little fiddles and twiddles on them – squares of fudge, drizzles of sweet sauce, chocolate flakes and mini marshmallows.

  As I turn up at the Sunshine Woods community campus, I can see that Joe is helping a group of the younger residents to tidy up the raised flowerbeds in the garden. Armed with my supermarket-bought cakes, I feel nervous as I walk towards him. Yet when he glances up and sees me, he smiles widely – and looks more than a little surprised.

  ‘Hi,’ I say. ‘I come bearing gifts.’

  ‘Anyone with cake is welcome,’ Joe says and leans on his fork. ‘I’m just showing the guys some gardening skills. We’re currently struggling to differentiate between a weed and a flower.’

  ‘You too!’ one of the young men says, affronted.

  ‘Yeah,’ Joe agrees pleasantly. ‘Me most of all.’ He strips off his gardening gloves. ‘Gardening is not my forte. Guys, can you spare me for five minutes to take a pretty lady for coffee?’

  Much enthusiastic nodding from all three of them.

  ‘Come to the café. We can have some coffee to go with the cakes.’

  Damn. I hadn’t thought it through that there was a café already here. I have, in fact, brought coals to Newcastle.

  ‘How about you pick a bunch of flowers for our guest, Richie,’ Joe suggests to one of the young men. ‘Just a few flowers. Not all of them. Some of these.’ Joe points to some orange flowers which, if I knew my flowers, I’d be able to name.

  ‘OK,’ he says and picks up a pair of secateurs.

  ‘Careful with those,’ Joe reminds him. ‘They’re sharp.’

  ‘OK, Joe.’

  ‘Shall I wait while you cut them?’

  ‘No.’ A toothy grin. ‘I’m OK.’

  ‘Well, just shout if you need my help. I’ll only be over there.’

  So we head towards the café, me clutching my cakes and trailing in Joe’s wake.

  ‘Let’s sit here,’ he says, pointing to a shaded table on the patio. ‘I can keep my eye on them from here. What can I get you?’

  ‘Skinny cappuccino?’

  ‘The perfect accompaniment to cake,’ he teases and I give him a wry smile. He has a point.

  He walks to the counter and I can’t help but take in an eyeful. He is one fine-looking man. Where Mason is slender and angular, Joe is muscular, well built. He wears jeans and a tight T-shirt very well. Even with muddy handprints on the bottom, I’d be tempted follow that to the ends of the earth. Though I do wonder exactly what I’m doing here. When I don’t see him it’s hard to remember that he’s too complicated for me right now and that I actually don’t need this in my life. He hasn’t called me and I should have just let it go. I watch him queue at the counter. I can hardly leg it now.

  While he’s being served Charlie texts me. How’s it going? xx.

  No idea what I’m doing here! I text back.

  Is he still HOT? There’s a row of many emoticons – sunshine, sunglasses, beach, barbeque, flames.

  I send her one back – a smiley face with hearts for eyes.

  That’s why you’re there! xx

  Joe comes back with the coffee and turns to face the guys who are still concentrating on their gardening. I open the cakes and Joe takes a chocolate thing covered in marshmallows. I go for the one that I think was salted caramel. It’s lush whatever it is. Nice one, Sainsbury’s.

  ‘I’ve missed you at diving.’ No point beating about the bush. An appropriate moment for a gardening pun, no?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Busy. I’ve been covering extra shifts at work and the kids always seem to have something on. I’m on permanent taxi duty. Is Bob looking after you well?’

  ‘Brilliantly. I’ve learned the knack of making my ears go pop on demand.’

  He grins at me. ‘Good for you. It’s one of the most important skills.’

  He’s patronising me, of course, but I don’t care.

  Then he takes a glug of his coffee and looks thoughtful. ‘I’m thinking that I might have to give up taking the lessons. I vowed that I’d keep my diving time as “me time”. That’s the modern thing, right? My daughter seems to need it every time there’s homework looming.’

  So, essentially what he’s saying is that I’m stuck with Bob for the foreseeable future.

  ‘I’m hoping that I can keep up going out with the club on weekend dives, but that depends on Gina.’

  ‘Still not around much?’

  ‘No.’ He looks at me over the top of his sunglasses, his voice tight. ‘She and her new boyfriend haven’t yet exhausted the romantic capital cities of Europe. Though they have done quite a few of them now.’

  ‘Oh.’ It makes me think of my weekend with Mason. I wonder how much Joe’s ex is actually seeing of the sights at all. Probably best not to mention that.

  ‘The kids are way down on the list of her priorities, which is why I’m trying to be Superdad. I don’t want them to suffer.’

  ‘I understand that. I just wanted to make sure that I hadn’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘Seriously, it’s not you, it’s me.’ Then we both laugh. ‘That sounded pathetic.’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  Joe takes a deep breath. ‘You’re a lovely woman, Ruby. At any other time …’ He looks off into the distance. ‘What I’m trying to say – very badly – is that I can’t get into a relationship now. I’m not in the right place. All this with Gina has left me raw. It’s always there under the surface. I’m not ready to
get involved with anyone else. It really isn’t you.’

  ‘I get that.’ It’s a shame, but he can’t be fairer than that. ‘We can be friends. If you ever find yourself with a free night and at a loose end, call me. We can go for a drink or a curry. No strings.’ And I know that it would be a very different ‘no strings’ to Mason’s idea of ‘no strings’.

  ‘Thanks, Ruby. That’s very kind. I just don’t want you waiting for something that I can’t offer.’

  Now all I want to do is leave as I feel a bit stupid.

  Perhaps sensing the change of mood, Joe says, ‘Let’s go and get you those flowers.’

  I follow him back towards the young lads who are snipping away. One of them hands me a big bunch of the orange flowers, some greenery which is very pretty and the whole thing is set off with a sprinkling of dandelions.

  ‘Well done, Richie.’

  He blushes as he hands them over to me.

  ‘Thank you. They’re lovely.’

  ‘Thanks for the cakes.’ He pulls on his gardening gloves and picks up his fork. He hesitates before he gives me a peck on the cheek. ‘I’ll see you around, Ruby. Good luck with the diving.’

  ‘Yes, sure. I’ll let you know if I ever make it to open water.’

  Then I walk back to my car muttering ‘Damn-damn-damn,’ under my breath. And I know in my heart that both my interest in diving and my chances with Joe have just died.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  So, it was all over with Joe before it had even begun. Dust yourself off, Ruby Brown, paint on a smile, move right along, nothing to see here. I don’t go back to my diving lessons and I don’t miss them. I only miss my instructor and you can gather here that I’m not talking about Bob.

  Two weeks have gone by and my life is a wilderness filled only with disappointment and shifts at the Butcher’s Arms. Eat, sleep, work. That’s all I do. Dramatic, I know, but I do feel down and that’s not really like me. Even cardboard cut-out Gary is failing to cheer me up. I know that he’s all Charlie needs to be happy, but I am finding him wanting in the boyfriend and companion stakes.