by J Thompson
He climbed into the shower and groaned out loud as the water hit his bare skin. Steam soon filled the room and leaked out into the hall from the open door, but Mike didn’t care. He wished he could spend longer under the heated water but he knew Gary would be arriving any time now, and the last thing he needed was his best mate walking in on him in the shower. It had happened before and was horrific enough that a repeat was to be avoided. He could still remember the awkward silence and avoided eye contact that occurred in the weeks after.
Making quick work of cleaning up, he turned the water off and quickly hopped out and grabbed a towel from the rail. Wrapping it around his hips, he ignored the wet marks he left on the wood flooring and returned back to his room. His eyes caught sight of his phone on the floor, left from where he had thrown it the night before. Knowing it would be dead he plugged it in then continued to grab his gear for the day, making sure to pack a change of clothes for after the match. Because the weather had been wet of late, he added an extra towel. Luckily, he still had a bin bag in there from last time. Rugby was a messy game after all, and he may be a male but he wasn’t completely useless.
Once Mike was dressed in some comfy joggers and a loose jumper, he pushed his hands through his hair in an effort to control the locks. He knew he was overdue a cut but he just couldn’t be bothered to get it done.
“MIKE!!” a voice called from downstairs. Gary had arrived and, of course, had made himself at home. The smell of bacon and coffee had him throwing his stuff into his bag quicker than usual. Hoisting it over his shoulder, he headed down the stairs, forgetting his phone in the process.
“I brought the essentials as you are driving,” Gary called out as Mike walked down the stairs and dumped his bag by the door, next to Gary’s. “I got bacon and egg baguettes with tommy K, two large coffees from Costa and a collection of tasty pastries for the journey from Tesco.” He grinned as he waved an arm over the goodies on the table.
“Nice one man, I’m starving,” Mike answered, reaching for his baguette. If he didn’t eat soon he was convinced his stomach would rebel and start eating itself. That was his own fault for not eating at all before he had starting drinking the night before.
“You hungry then dude?” Gary asked, and was gifted with an energetic nod, followed by a wince. Mike would need painkillers before the match. It would help in case anyone clocked him in the head during the match.
“You feeling rough? Coz you bloody look it dude. I thought you didn’t drink before a match.”
Mike shrugged then answered, “The lads from work wanted to go out and I thought, what the hell.”
Gary sat and started to devour his own breakfast. They sat in silence as they both chewed before Gary asked, “She never replied, did she?”
Mike glared over at Gary but never answered his question. He didn’t want to talk about the fact Gary knew he’d had a crush on Belinda for a long time and had put off asking her out due to the very reason he got drunk. Mike had never handled rejection well and he hated talking about it even more. After finishing his food, he tossed the rubbish into the bin and walked out of the kitchen, grabbing his jacket from the bannister.
“Come on or else we will be late,” he called to Gary as he picked up his bag from the floor. “Bring the coffee and munchies,” he finished as he walked out the door and onto the pavement. He stopped short as he watched Belinda, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a warm jacket, climb into her Beetle. He continued to watch as she pulled away from the curb and drove up the road.
For fuck sake, what was it about her that had him entranced even when she had made it obvious that she wasn’t interested?
“You have it bad dude.”
“Fuck off and give me a pastry,” Mike growled out as he walked towards his truck.
Belinda buzzed with excitement as she jostled her way into the packed building of Carter’s. Because it was classed as an antiques festival, hundreds of people had rocked up, along with lots of new stalls. This excited Belinda, she had been disappointed last weekend when she had found nothing and she hoped with the new stalls she would at least find a few pieces to add to her collection.
She stopped to let an old woman wobble past and felt her phone vibrate within her pocket. Ever since she had sent the message to Mike she had been on edge, waiting for a reply. She hadn’t expected one right away, but the longer it was left the more she was convinced that she had completely blown it.
Her hands shook as she took her phone from her pocket and unlocked the screen, bringing up the recent messages. Her shoulders sagged as she read the message from Veronica, one of the trio of ladies that you could call her friends.
* * *
Bel honey
Have a fab day at the fair. Have signed you up to EHarmony!!!
Could you feed Bubbles tonight? I’m off out to the bingo and Clark will be there.
Looks like I’m in.
Much love
Ronnie
* * *
Belinda frowned and replied back that she would indeed feed Bubbles and to have a good night. She would not get into a row about being signed up to a dating site, well not yet anyway. She would broach that subject of dating websites when she next went over and saw the trio. She knew all three of them had done it, and no matter how many times she protested she was positive it went in one ear and out the other. She read back through Veronica’s message and she could swear that woman had been taking lessons from the teenagers that worked at the bingo house. She sounded younger every time she sent a message.
With a sigh Belinda put her phone back into her pocket and tried to forget the dating site and focus on the here and now. She smiled openly to all the sellers and started to slowly walk around the stalls. She began at the ones that had been at Carter’s for years, scared she might actually miss a piece from them, before she would tackle the new sellers.
The atmosphere was amazing and Belinda felt so at home routing through boxes, looking for any piece of glass that was hidden in the hopes of finding that special bottle.
The temperature had picked up, which was why it had been so wet recently, but it also meant that it was slightly warmer in the building, that meant most of the sellers didn’t have their funky little gloves on and the heaters weren’t needed as much. Besides, the amount of bodies inside the building meant that the body heat alone brought up the temperature, as well as increased the sales.
Having exhausted the existing sellers, Belinda headed over to the new ones in the alcove near the entrance, where the new stall called “Amor Glass” had been advertised. She half expected it to either be not yet set up or to be full of modern day glass ware, but instead it was filled with the most beautiful glass and crystal ware she had ever seen; wine glasses, decanters, bowls and plates sparkled like new and there, like the Holy Grail for Belinda, was a cabinet filled with perfume bottles.
She was still ten feet away, as she was unable to move through the crowd, but she could see the rainbow colours glisten from the lights. Her heart rate picked up and her palms became clammy. This was the feeling she loved, for her it was the same type of feeling adrenaline junkies got when they jumped off a cliff or out of a plane.
“Excuse me, can I squeeze past?” she called out to two men as they stood discussing a piece of porcelain on another stall, but they had managed to block the walk way. She stood and smiled sweetly, but that soon changed to a frown when they ignored her and continued to stand in the way.
With a louder voice she called again and tapped one of the men on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, can I get past please?”
She watched as he turned and looked down at her and sneered. “Go the other bloody way love, I’m busy.” He turned his back on her and continued his conversation about the antique charger plate he had in his meaty hands.
Belinda’s eyes widened at his blatant rudeness and she clenched a fist. With a few deep breaths she calmly tapped him on the shoulder again and waited.
“Wh
at the fuck do you want now? I told you to go the other way.”
Belinda smiled and stepped forward. “That’s a fake,” she said, and pointed to the plate and then to the seller, who she knew was a complete jackass. “He has them made in China and shipped over.”
The potential buyer turned in anger to the seller, whose eyes nearly bulged from his head as he noticed the now furious man slowly stalk towards him. Belinda took the chance to squeeze past the gap that had opened up and headed for the Amor stall. Yes, that had been a bit nasty, but that guy had been an arse and so was the seller. In the past, he had been so rude to her when she had visited his stall, so she saw that as kiss from karma. Plus, if that hadn’t of worked she would have resorted to violence, i.e. her slamming her foot down on his own, and that would have most likely got her kicked out.
With a peek behind, she grinned as she saw the potential buyer had the seller by his collar and had backed him into a bookcase. She could almost see the steam rise from the top of his bald head.
Oh yes, karma was definitely happening.
†
The glass glistened and sparkled and called to Belinda as she approached the new stall. Her gaze was glued to the tall cabinet that stood to the left of the stall. There were tables and shelves filled with crystal glasses and bowls and even a stand that held just Swarovski crystal. If she hadn’t of been so entranced by the perfume bottles, she would have headed for the Swarovski. That was the other thing she loved, there was just something about the sparkling crystal that made her fingers curl in delight.
The seller, a tall man that stood a good two foot above her own height, smiled as she approached. He had grey hair that she could see peek out from under a flat cap and a matching goatee. His eyes were so blue, Belinda was positive that they were contact lenses, as having eyes that shade was surely impossible. He had straight white teeth, which had to be either false or those posh veneers she had seen advertised on the TV. Judgemental, she knew, but she had been around a lot of antiques sellers in her life and as much as they all liked to act like they were the dog’s bollocks, the last thing they would sort out would be their teeth.
Belinda frowned and turned a little, pretending to look at a stunning piece of black carnival glass. Why did her mind do this? It chose the most inopportune moments to go off on a tangent about matters that were not important to the moment. She had found that when she was nervous or excited it happened, and had once done it with Mike. Her thoughts had wandered off about the fact his biceps had nearly burst from his overalls when he had been telling her what her car needed. She had missed the entire conversation and had to nod and pretend like she had heard it all. That had been embarrassing, but she had managed to get away with it; she couldn’t do that now. Not when there was a possibility that she would buy a new bottle.
She took a long, deep breath then released it just as slow and turned. She smiled brightly when the seller noticed her as she approached the glass case. Every single bottle inside was different and the colours were spectacular and matched nothing she currently owned.
“You like the bottles, yes?” the old gentleman asked, and walked towards her as she stood and stared into the case. His slight accent sounded so exotic, but also friendly and calming
“Yes, yes I do, they are so beautiful,” Belinda answered. She smiled briefly at the man before she continued to look at the bottles. One stood out at the back of the case, it was tall and thin, with slight etchings on the glass. It had a subtle blue colour and its small stopper curved in a spiral. Belinda pointed to the bottle.
“Can I see that one please?” she asked, and stepped back to allow the gentleman to access the case, only he didn’t move. He just smiled down at her, before he tilted his head to the side.
“You do not want that one.” He shook his head and turned on his heel towards his counter. Belinda blinked and stayed where she was. What did he mean, she didn’t want that one? Yes, she did.
“Miss, come, I show you something special,” the gentleman called out from behind the counter. All she could see of him was his backside as he had bent over at the waist to fetch something from the bottom cupboard. For an older man, he certainly had a nice arse, she thought, as she looked at the said body part cupped in denim. Sweet Jesus. Since when was her mind always in the gutter?
“Here we go,” he said, as he stood and placed a small box upon the table before he sat on his stool and waited. His eyes held a hint of excitement and the turquoise almost gleamed. Belinda reached out tentatively to touch the worn wood, but she stopped just short and looked up to the gentleman.
“May I?” she asked. Belinda was not one to touch any antique without permission. She knew the rule you break it you buy it, well, after a few disasters in the past, and she didn’t want to make that mistake now.
“Of course, Miss. Touch. Feel. Very special piece indeed, very old as well.”
Belinda nodded and her fingertips touched the wood. Inside, her stomach did a flip, she could tell the box itself was old by the wear on the surface, but that meant he would want a small fortune to own this. Slowly, she took the box with both hands and lifted the lid. Regardless of its age, it lifted easily, revealing an interior lined with velvet and there, nestled within, was a small bottle.
Only three inches in height, it shimmered in the light. Its colour was an iridescent purple that changed to pale pinks when moved. It reminded her of the kind of things you would find if you went into the cave of wonders from the film Aladdin. Exotic and tiny. She gently picked the glass up; there was still liquid inside, which would again push the price up, but she knew she didn’t care. She cupped it gently in her palm and ran her thumb across the raised words that were scrolled across the centre.
Cupid’s Essence
Those simple words pulled at her soul and she had to force herself to put the bottle back into its nest of velvet. She wanted this piece and she knew the gentleman knew it. For some reason he had known she would be interested in something like this.
She wanted to take it home and look at the box and bottle further, take her time to delve into the past and imagine who had owned such a beautiful, mysterious token from the past.
Belinda looked up. “How much?”
She attempted to keep her face devoid of emotion, but she couldn’t help the hint of excitement that seemed to bubble up and escape in a huge grin. She waited as the gentleman watched her and once again tilted his head in thought.
“For you, Miss, £500.”
Belinda blinked and nearly had to manually close her mouth. “How much?” she answered, her voice squeaking at the end. “I’m sorry, thank you for showing me but I won’t be paying that.” She pointed once again to the cabinet and back to the blue bottle. “How much is that one?”
“£20,” he answered quickly, but made no move to put the one labelled with Cupid’s name away, he seemed to watch her carefully and in turn, it made her squirm.
Belinda looked from the cabinet with the blue bottle in, back to the counter with the rosewood box. She was truly conflicted, a part of her the moment she had touched the small unique bottle had become attached to it. She wanted it, but she was not prepared to pay £500 for it.
“Why so much?” she asked, “For such a small bottle that’s not even made of crystal.” She folded her arms and waited for a reply.
“Well Miss, you had best take a seat for this a magical tale.”
Belinda fought a battle to stop herself rolling her eyes; now even the gentleman was sounding like he belonged in Aladdin. He nodded towards the spare stool and smiled, it reminded her of one of her old teachers when they were ready to sit for story time, but they could easily blow their fuse if pushed. She unfolded her arms and slid onto the seat and eyed the gentleman warily, she placed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and waited. She wanted to keep her hands out of the way because she had the urge to touch the small, wooden box again, and the bottle that resided within.
“Many years ago Miss, Cupid himself came
to earth. He wanted to bring love to the world.”
Belinda was struggling to hold back the retort that threatened to burst from her lips. She loved stories like the next girl, but bullshit made up to make her pay the full amount was going to piss her off. He continued on, unaware of Belinda’s struggle.
“Cupid wanted everyone to be able to get love and so, he created Cupid’s Essence.” The gentleman tapped the box, his hand smoothed over the wood, almost like a caress.
“Cupid’s Essence was created out of the tears of Cupid, caught into the small bottle the moment he thought he had lost his own love, Psyche. The tears, once collected, were the purest physical form of love and if used correctly, could help the wearer find their heart’s desire.
“So…” Belinda stopped him, even though his voice had started to lull her into a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in a long time. “You are telling me this bottle right here holds tears from the mythical creature, Cupid?”
“Yes Miss.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
His answer was to shrug but his eyes held a sparkle of humour. Belinda jumped off the stool and pulled her purse from her bag. It was time she tried this haggling lark.
“Ok, I will give you £100 for both bottles, in cash, right now.” She smiled and placed five £20 notes on the counter.
The gentleman clutched his heart and looked on in horror. “So little Miss, you wound me. No, £500 for Cupid’s bottle and £20 for the other.”
Belinda sighed and looked though her purse. The need to own the mythical bottle, whether the story was bullshit or not, had created a pressure in her chest and she knew that annoying twitch of hers would start to kick in soon.
“£150,” she countered, she refused to jump in at a high price.
“No,” was his only answer. Only this time, he made to put Cupid’s bottle back in its box. Belinda panicked.