Sooo Not Looking For a Man: A witty, heart-warming and poignant, feel-good journey.

by CJ Morrow

  I’m quite enjoying this alternate walk, it sates the nosy people-watcher in me, not that Shadow seems very enthusiastic. I haven’t had to rein her in or let the extending lead out at all, though I have had to scoop her poop twice and am now carrying two poo bags at arm’s length. We’re just going down the last road before we turn back when I notice the large house on the corner; I’m sure it used to be a pub. I think it’s one of those houses of multiple occupancy now judging by the Rooms to Rent, Ensuite and Wi-Fi signs outside. Someone, in the past, has obviously spent a lot of money on converting it as the windows and front door look smart and expensive and the rendering looks new. But, sadly, it has an air of neglect, rubbish strewn around the small courtyard front garden and the inevitable wheelie bins, lined up like soldiers in adjacent gardens, are hurled into the far corner.

  Just as I get up close the curtains in the front room open and there, topless, is Spice man. I look away quickly. Did he see me? I hope not.

  He is so thin. And pale.

  I urge Shadow on and we pick up pace so I can get as far away as fast as possible, just in case he comes after me.

  Don’t be stupid, why would he?

  At least I now know he isn’t homeless.

  Back home and Shadow looks forlorn and I find myself promising to take her out properly when I get back from work. Her eyes peer up at me from under a furrowed brow then she turns away. I think she’s sulking. I feel guilty as hell as I lock the front door behind me and leave for work.

  ∞∞∞

  I’ve been at work an hour and am delighted to learn, during the handover, that no one has died in my absence. I always worry when I have time off that someone will pass away; logically I know that even if I’d been here it’s unlikely I could have saved them, but even so, it’s always a concern.

  Maybe it’s the time of year but all the residents seem to be in good health and other than doling out their regular medications I’m in for a quiet day. I do need to visit Elsie on the dementia floor because she needs her diabetic ulcer seeing to, but other than that, it looks like a slow ease into the working week.

  ‘Good morning,’ an unfamiliar voice says as I walk past the day room.

  I stop in my tracks and turn back, then go inside the room. A very dapper gent dressed in immaculate clothes is sitting by the window. His shirt is the whitest I’ve ever seen; his trousers are cream with knife-sharp creases. He wears a snakeskin belt, a neat cream pork-pie hat, and carries a wooden cane with an elaborate carved, bone handle. But it’s his shoes that intrigue me, I’ve never seen the like before: cream patent leather.

  ‘Hello,’ I say, smiling. ‘Who are you visiting? Perhaps I can…’

  ‘No, no,’ he interrupts, ‘I’m here for the whole cruise. All the way round. Home port to home port.’

  ‘Ah. I see.’ So, he’s a new resident. ‘You look very smart,’ I venture.

  ‘Important to dress appropriately for the tropics,’ he says, smiling. ‘Do you know when they’ll be bringing that cup of tea I ordered?’

  ‘No, no. I’ll chase that up for you.’

  ‘Thank you, steward, most appreciated. And what lovely weather we’re having today.’ He turns back to the window and I wonder what he sees, certainly not the dull day I do.

  I scuttle along to the kitchenette and ask about his tea.

  ‘Oops, completely forgot,’ one of the carers says. ‘I’ll do it now.’

  ‘What’s his name?’ I ask, realising I hadn’t asked him.

  ‘Albert Evans, but we’re to call him Mr Evans,’ she gives me a sly smile.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘He thinks he’s on a cruise,’ she says, setting up a cup and saucer.

  ‘Better than being in a prison,’ I muse. ‘He looks very smart, really lovely. Don’t suppose it’ll last once his clothes have been through our laundry.’ I feel sorry for Mr Evans, his clothes are obviously important to him.

  ‘Oh no, we’re not to wash them. His family will see to his clothes. They come every day. Four daughters and three sons and numerous grandchildren. There’s someone here every day.’

  ‘That’s, um, good.’

  ∞∞∞

  Two things happen just before lunchtime; I get a message from Ken asking which day he should come for dinner – I didn’t think I said dinner, I was thinking more tea; and a request to work late tonight.

  I think of poor Shadow all on her own; I really don’t want to work late.

  ‘It’s only an hour,’ Clare the home manager says. ‘It’s just to cover Cheryl taking her daughter to the dentist.’ She looks at me with pleading eyes, they remind me of Shadow’s.

  ‘But,’ I start, ‘I have to…’ How can I suggest that my dog’s walk trumps Cheryl’s daughter’s dentist visit? But to me, it does.

  ‘Tell you what, why don’t you take two hours for lunch? Would that make it easier?’

  ‘Um, yes,’ I ponder. ‘That could work.’

  Before I leave, I message Ken and invite him for tea tomorrow. He replies with a smiley face and several thumbs up. Now I have one day to work on my letting Ken down gently plan. Talk about putting myself under pressure.

  ∞∞∞

  Judging by her reaction Shadow is ecstatic when I arrive home in the middle of the day. She jumps all over me, yelping with excitement.

  Outside it has warmed and brightened up, so rather than keep her waiting any longer I grab her lead and we head out to the park. I still have my lunch in my bag and I think an impromptu picnic might be rather nice.

  Shadow is full of energy and I have to let the lead out a lot so that she can use that energy up. We’ve been around the park twice and I’m relieved to see that there is no sign of Spice man and his grubby dog. We’re just on our third circuit of the park when I spot an exit I haven’t noticed before; it’s on the opposite side of the park to my house. This is the direction which Leeward and Thor usually head in. Before I know what I’m doing I’ve reeled in Shadow’s lead and we’re heading out of the exit. I don’t really know what I hope to achieve.

  Or why.

  We march down a street similar to mine, then turn into another, then another. Then I see it. A new development, only half a dozen or so houses, bright and shiny in the sunlight. They’re not big, but they are beautiful, with ample parking, wrought iron railings around neat little front gardens and discreet solar panels on the roofs. I just know that one of these detached beauties is Leeward’s; I just don’t know which one and because he must be at work, there’s no sign of his car. Unless he has a new one. I spot the name of the road and it sounds familiar; didn’t Leeward mention it?

  I saunter past the row as nonchalantly as I can all the way to the end of the street before I cross over and walk all the way back on the other side. I can actually get a better look from here, especially if I walk Shadow on the kerb side and keep looking at her.

  I’m barely halfway down the row when a front door bursts open and Thor steps out with Daenerys tucked under his arm.

  Oh shit.

  I yank on Shadow’s lead and attempt to hasten our escape before he spots us. I just hope he’s getting into his car and not heading to the park.

  I’m walking as fast as I can without actually running and I daren’t look back in case he sees me; the end of the street is in sight and soon I will be able to turn the corner.

  ‘Hey, Lauren,’ Thor’s voice is so close but I’m still shocked when I turn and come face to chest with him. ‘How lovely to see you.’

  ‘I’m in a rush now,’ I snap back. Does that sound as untrue as it feels. And, I now know exactly which house is theirs.

  ‘That’s us over there.’ He points. ‘The one with the blue door. Hey, fancy popping in for a cuppa?’

  Cuppa? He said cuppa. Bless him. ‘Oh, I can’t. Like I said, I’m in a rush. I’m on my lunch break from work, and I’ve already been around the park twice, just veered off the path for a change of scenery before I take Shadow home and head back to work.’

&
nbsp; ‘Oh shame. Next time. In fact, next time you’re passing, pop in.’

  Oh God. ‘Okay. Thank you.’ I smile while at the same time promising myself that there will never be a next time. Never.

  ‘Better get on,’ Thor says, turning to cross back over the road. ‘Got to pop to the shops before I go to work.’ He rolls his eyes in a theatrical way and it makes me laugh.

  ‘You can take your dog to work?’ What sort of job is that?

  ‘Yes, the girls in reception take her while I’m running a class. She’s no trouble, are you, Daenerys?’

  ‘I wish I could take my dog to work. Where do you work?’

  ‘The gym, in town. You know, Sparks.’

  ‘Oh right. I’ve heard of it.’ I try to keep the emotion from my voice; it’s the gym Leeward went to every day in the run up to our wedding. I already knew that the gym was where they met, just having it confirmed from the god’s mouth hurts a little.

  ‘Bye, Lauren,’ he says, suddenly bending down and kissing my cheek.

  ‘Bye, Th... Alfie,’ I correct before making a fool of myself.

  ‘You were going to call me Thor there, weren’t you?’ He laughs and he’s still laughing as he walks across the road. ‘Don’t worry,’ he shouts back, ‘A lot of people do it. But I looked like this long before that Hemsworth actor.’

  ‘Come on, Shadow,’ I say, scurrying away with my dog, who has been sitting and watching and waiting.

  Back in the park we finish our half circuit and head towards our own exit. The bench where Spice man usually sits is empty and in the sun. I still have my lunch in my bag and decide that here and now would be a good place to have my picnic. As I sit down, Shadow settles herself at my feet and closes her eyes, soon she’s dozing. I let go of the lead, now full retracted, put it on the ground and put my foot on it.

  I check my phone and see that I have almost an hour before I need to be back at work. I close my eyes. Bliss. I can hear the birds singing and smell the grass and I congratulate myself for enjoying a bit of nature. I’m glad Alfie didn’t follow me into the park; he’s nice, too nice, but I need to distance myself from him. I know that in different circumstances we could probably be friends; as he’s already pointed out, we have so much in common. Mostly Leeward. Not that Alfie knows that.

  Shadow’s lead jerks beneath my foot. She stands up and her snout is up.

  ‘Hey,’ Spice man’s voice says as he sits down on the end of the bench.

  ‘Err, hi.’ Oh shit. Just when I was enjoying a bit of peace and quiet. I finger the lid of my lunchbox, debating whether to stay or go home. I think go home is winning.

  ‘What have you got in there?’

  ‘Um, sandwiches.’

  ‘What flavour?’ He looks at me and smiles, he looks almost pleasant. Almost.

  ‘Cheese and pickle.’

  ‘Cool.’

  Is he hinting, does he want one? He certainly looks as though he could do with a good meal. At least I now know he’s not homeless but maybe Social Services have placed him in there and are paying directly for it and he doesn’t have enough money for food. No, they wouldn’t keep him so short he couldn’t feed himself. Maybe he just wastes his food money on other things.

  Spice.

  Nasty judgemental cow.

  ‘Would you like one?’ I say, lifting the lid and offering the box over.

  He looks at me, eye to eye, his are still bloodshot but there’s something there, maybe a remnant of what he used to be before the drugs took hold.

  ‘Can you spare it?’

  ‘Sure. Go on,’ I urge. It’s true there are plenty because I used up the last of the bread, so I’ve made three when I would normally only eat two.

  ‘Thanks.’ He reaches over with his bony, and clean, hand and takes one.

  I pick up mine and we eat in silence while Shadow and Betty, now less ebullient than usual, watch us. I’m still only halfway through mine when he finishes his.

  ‘That was good. Thank you.’

  ‘Have another,’ I say, pushing my lunchbox at him.

  ‘It’s your last one.’

  ‘Please. I haven’t even managed to eat this one yet,’ I say, half laughing and feeling both generous and patronising.

  He takes the sandwich and finishes it just as I finish mine. He pulls a bottle of water, unopened, from his pocket.

  ‘You first,’ he says. When he smiles his teeth look clean, and neat and even. Not at all how I imagine a drug addict’s teeth should look, all blackened and rotten like they do in those posters you see.

  Stop it.

  ‘Thank you.’ I reach for the bottle. How can I not? I am grateful it’s a new one. Unless he fills it up. But, no, I have to break the seal. I take a drink then pass it back.

  He takes a swig then leans back on the back of the bench. ‘I didn’t realise I was so hungry,’ he says.

  ‘Would you like a Kit Kat?’ I offer the lunchbox again.

  He glances inside, sees that there are two and reaches in.

  ‘You’re very kind.’ There’s an edge to his voice.

  He stuffs the Kit Kat in record time and takes another swig of the water. He offers it to me again.

  ‘No, thanks. I’m fine.’ I’m not, I’d love a drink to wash down that chocolate covered wafer which I know is sticking to my teeth – I’d normally have a cup of tea at work with my lunch – but I don’t want to drink out of that bottle again.

  ‘By the way, I’m Phillip,’ he says. ‘I think since you shared your lunch, we should share our names.’

  ‘Yeah. Okay.’ I don’t want to tell him my name, I don’t want a lunch friend. ‘Lauren.’ I smile as I say my name.

  ‘Hello, Lauren. Was that you I saw this morning, walking Sheba, Shadow,’ he corrects, shaking his head.

  ‘Shadow,’ I confirm. ‘She answers to Shadow now.’ At her name Shadow puts her front paws on my knees and I rub her ears.

  ‘Cool.’ He leans over and pats her and the little traitor drops down and trots over to him and rests her head on his lap. His own dog then does the same. ‘It’s okay Betty, you’re not being usurped.’ He pats both dogs’ backs.

  Usurped. That’s a big word for a Spice addict.

  Stop it.

  ‘So that was you?’ He returns to his question. ‘This morning. Holding your dog’s dirt bag in front of you.’ He mimes my hand held out as it had been this morning.

  ‘Yes. Two poo bags actually. I had to take a different route; the park wasn’t open.’ I feel the need to explain, I don’t want him thinking I was looking for him. Why would he think that?

  ‘Well, you saw where I live, now you know why I spend so much time here.’ As he speaks he looks into the distance.

  ‘Didn’t look that bad.’ Patronising.

  ‘Not that bad. Just one room with my own shower room. But small. The kitchen is shared. Not nice.’

  ‘You don’t look like you bother much with a kitchen.’ Shut up.

  ‘No. Sort of lost my appetite lately.’ He glances at my empty lunchbox on the bench between us. ‘Getting it back a bit now, maybe.’

  I smile and nod and feel stupid. He looks at me with expectation in his eyes. Say something, say something that isn’t patronising.

  ‘Have you been ill?’

  He studies me for a long time. Too long. I never mentioned drugs, I never implied anything. Did I?

  ‘I remember where I know you from.’

  I brace myself, waiting for him to comment on the Facebook video.

  ‘You work at that care home in town.’

  ‘Nursing home,’ I correct, although the difference is too subtle for most people to know or care. I smile my relief that he hasn’t mentioned Facebook.

  ‘Yes. Sorry.’ He smiles. Is he patronising me now? Serves me right. ‘My grandad’s in there.’

  ‘Really. Who? I probably know him.’ Of course, I know him.

  ‘Archie Porter.’

  ‘I know Archie. Really, you’re his grandson? I can hard
ly believe it.’ I really can’t.

  ‘Yeah.’ He looks away. He looks as though he might start to cry and I don’t want to witness that. I can see him gulping back his emotion, his Adam’s apple going up and down as he swallows.

  ‘He’s lovely, your grandad, such a nice man. It’s so nice he has such a big family to visit him,’ I gabble.

  ‘Not so big now,’ Phillip says, standing up.

  Oh God, someone has died. I’ve put my foot in it.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, stuffing my lunchbox back into my bag, picking up Shadow’s lead and standing up.

  Phillip looks at me and half smiles. ‘Don’t worry, no one’s died. Quite the opposite really.’ There’s a look of defiance in his face, a dare almost. I’m not going to ask. It’s none of my business.

  ‘Better get back to work.’ I let Shadow’s lead out a little.

  ‘Yeah. Me too.’ He gives a bitter little laugh.

  ‘Oh, you work?’ It’s out of my judgemental mouth before I can stop it.

  ‘Off sick.’ Another bitter laugh. ‘Until I can sort myself out.’ He shrugs.

  ‘Oh. Right.’ I nod as though I know what he’s talking about and I’m on his side. I am, of course I am, he’s coming off drugs, he should be commended. ‘Good for you.’

  He frowns. Then smiles.

  I turn to walk away. ‘Hey, Phillip,’ I call back. ‘I have a friend round tomorrow for dinner, nothing special. Why don’t you join us?’ What am I doing?

  He stares at me for a while before he answers. ‘Okay. Thank you. What time?’

  ‘Six.’

  He nods.

  I give him my address before I scuttle away as fast as I can.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Fourteen

  Ken arrives early, my hair is still wet from the hasty shower I took when I came home from work. He glances at it, but wisely chooses not to comment. He leans in and kisses me on each cheek; he smells divine, he looks divine too. I wonder if I am being hasty in my decision to push him away.

  He holds another bouquet of flowers and a bottle of white wine. I accept his gifts with grace and wonder if he will take them back after this evening is over, though I still haven’t quite worked out what I’m going to say, never mind how.