by Paul Kelly
Jenny rolled her eyes and looked about her.
“I thought you might help,” she said between sobs and Freya knew or guessed that Mr. Haggerstone hadn’t told Jenny that she had resigned.
“I can’t, Jenny. I told old Haggerstone yesterday that I would have to give up the job as I was having too much time off to be with ...” she stopped suddenly, afraid to mention the name, but Jenny was too absorbed in her own trouble to have even remembered anyone like Robert Peterson.
“I’ve been rather stupid, Freya. You know how I am with men ... and how careful I am at all times, even though I fancy the pants off most of them.”
Freya touched Jenny’s hand and tried to comfort her.
“Are you telling me that you’ve found the right one now, Jenny?” Freya asked
but Jenny started to cry again.
“If only it was that simple. I thought this guy was different. I thought he was a gentleman, but ...” Freya waited for what was to come and she guessed it wasn’t pleasant from the way Jenny kept crying.
“Are you telling me that ...”
“Yes, I’m telling you just that. I let him have his wicked way with me, as they say and I arranged to meet him again last night, but ... I should have bloody guessed, he never turned up.”
“But Jenny, last night was last night and tonight is another night,” said Freya trying to sound as comfortable as she could. “He might turn up again, you never know and if you liked him as you say you did, well ... there’s always a good chance that he liked you too.”
Jenny shook her head.
“No Freya. You don’t understand. This guy asked me to marry him and I agreed.”
“What? You wanted to marry him, Jenny? How long have you known him?”
Jenny sighed and raised her eyes to the ceiling.
“A week,” she replied in a weak voice, “No, I tell a lie. It was two weeks, but I’ve met him three times.”
Freya could not believe what she was hearing and then she remembered that she had only met Robert a few times before she knew that she loved him. Less than a few times actually. Freya knew that night when Robert spilt his coffee on the cafe floor and she bent down to dry up the mess, that he was someone special when she looked at his face, so how could she lecture or remonstrate with her friend for what she had done?
“How did you meet him and where?” enquired Freya and Jenny hung her head and blushed.
“Do you remember coming into the cafe and asking me if I had ever met a guy that you thought might have fancied you?” she asked, but Freya scratched her forehead as she thought of the incident which had slipped her mind and then she remembered that it was the time when she asked Jenny if she had seen anyone resembling Robert.
“Well, I seem to remember asking you if you remembered anyone, but you said you didn’t, as I remember,” said Freya getting confused with the number of ‘rememberings’ she had made.
“Yea,” replied Jenny, still blushing, “A guy did come in asking for you and I thought that would be the one you spoke about and ...”
Jenny hadn’t finished her sentence before Freya had fears that the person in Jenny’s life might be none other than Robert.
“But you said you didn’t remember anyone resembling the person I spoke about, Jenny.”
“Yea, I know that and I feel very guilty now, Freya. When the guy came into the cafe and asked if you were there, I decided I was gonna get him first. I know that’s selfish Freya, but that’s how I’m made, I’m afraid. I always want what somebody else has.”
Freya didn’t know how to react when she heard what Jenny had to say, but her heart was sore. The thought of Robert being with Jenny, if it was him, made Freya feel sick. She had no dislike of Jenny ... she was her friend, but they had a different aspect on life and love and Freya didn’t want to be involved in the thoughts that Jenny dwelt upon.
“When ... when this man asked you to marry him ... didn’t you have any doubts when you’d only known him such a short while?”
“Well,” replied Jenny perkily, coming out of her sombre mood, “It’s not every day a guy proposes to you, is it? I mean, most of them only want one thing and that doesn’t include marriage, so when this guy came out with this ... very passionate proposal, of course I jumped at the chance. Freya, I’m no chicken, you know and if I don’t grab a chance now, I might reach ninety four and still have regrets.”
Freya decided there and then she would phone Robert to arrange a meet and then she would discuss this matter with him. At all costs she had to know what was happening, but she still felt sure that Robert would never do such a thing to her ... or to any woman for that matter. He didn’t want to get involved with anyone, he had told her that and so many times ... so why would he change his mind now ... and if he did, why did he chose Jenny, who nice though she was, could hardly be described as a ‘debutante’ ... and her heavy make-up would surely send someone like Robert Peterson heading in the opposite direction ... unless, Jenny was just the type that Robert was looking for. Maybe the ‘proposal’ was only so that he could find some ‘relief’ if he was frustrated in a sexual way and didn’t want to commit to someone who might seem more serious than Jenny. The thoughts confused Freya, but she continued to talk to Jenny as if her mind was clear and she would listen to anything more her friend had to say.
“Did this man make any arrangements for the wedding, Jenny,” Freya asked, “Or did he leave all that to you?”
“I don’t know. Oh! I don’t bloody well remember. I was just so happy when he spoke about marriage and I naturally thought, as anyone would, that he would see me again and soon ...”
“Isn’t there anyway that you can get in touch with him again? I mean, did he take you to his flat or anything.?”
Jenny rubbed her left eye and stared at Freya.
“He didn’t take me to his flat. He came to mine. We did everything at my place ... God, I never thought about that. Why wouldn’t he give me his address, Freya, if he meant what he said he did?”
Freya did not answer, but by the look on her face, Jenny knew immediately what she was thinking.
“You think that bastard’s been having me on, don’t you Freya?” she barked and stood up to her full height of five foot two inches. “If ... or WHEN I see him in the cafe, I’ll have his guts for bloody garters. I swear I will.”
With that Jenny left Freya’s flat, leaving Freya with a greater headache than she had known for a very long time.
Chapter Eleven
Freya sat quietly, looking out of the window of her flat and wondering what she should do next. She stared at the telephone with mixed feelings, but her mind was blank. She could not think clearly at all and gradually she broke into a fit of tears where she thought she might go mad if she didn’t do something quick.
She picked up the phone and dialed Robert’s number, but there was no answer, then she dialed the hospital in desperation.
“Oh! I’m so sorry to trouble you, but I have a difficulty at home and I desperately need to speak to Mr. Peterson. His son Cameron is a patient with you. Can you contact him for me please.?”
“I’ll see what I can do for you madam. Mr. Peterson, you say. Just hold for a moment please.” Freya waited for what seemed an eternity to her before the hospital receptionist came back. “Are you still there caller?”
“Yes, I was enquiring about Mr. Peterson.”
“Yes dear, Mr. Peterson left the hospital about ten minutes ago.”
“Thank you, you’re very kind.”
When Freya put the phone down, she had no idea what to do next. Should she go to Robert’s flat and confront him with what she knew. . . or should she wait until he got in touch with her and show him the cold shoulder? No, she knew she could never do that, but the more she reflected on the matter of Jenny and her predicament, the more convinced
she was that Robert had something to do with it, but that thought didn’t make her any happier. Two agonizing days later when she was out job hunting, she bumped into him.
“Nice to see you again, Freya,” he said, “I hope you are keeping well?”
Freya stood in silence when he spoke and Robert sensed there was something on her mind.
“You look tense,” he said, “Is anything the matter?” Freya thought for a moment, but she could find nothing to say. “Something is worrying you.” he said, “I can tell by the look in your eyes. Please tell me what it is and perhaps I can help you this time.”
Freya shrugged her shoulders. How could she tell him what was on her mind?
“I have a friend who is in some kind of trouble and I am unable to help her,” she said and Robert stood a little way from her as if to assess the situation.
“A friend?” he asked and she nodded.
“Maternal trouble?” he asked, feeling that he may have hit the nail on the head, but Freya, shook her head.
“Not exactly,” she replied, “But heading that way, I suppose.” Robert raised his eyebrows and waited.
“My friend is in love with someone ... Well, she thinks she is in love with this person and she feels that perhaps her feelings are not being reciprocated.”
“History has a habit of repeating itself, or so I am told,” Robert answered, “ I don’t suppose I could help as I am rather a novice in that field myself, don’t you think? ... Do I know this person?”
Freya normally would never discuss the name of the person she would want to help in any circumstance, but in this case she thought it might be best to do so, as Robert already knew Jenny and if he knew her as she thought he did, he would be better able to find a solution ... if there was one to be had.
“It’s my friend from the cafe, Jenny. I think you have met?”
Freya watched Robert’s eyes as she spoke, but he looked steadily back at her without a flinch.
“Jenny from the cafe. Yes, I have met her. She seems a very nice lady and who may I ask is trifling with her heart?” Freya wet her lips and swallowed hard.
“We ... I mean SHE doesn’t know his name,” she replied and Robert stifled a laugh with his fist to his mouth.
“Doesn’t know who she is in love with? How can that be . . . It’s not a ghost, is it?”
“No ... I think she has trusted someone too far and the person she trusted has let her down.”
Robert shook his head and frowned.
“History again, I am afraid,” he said, “but how can I help?”
“There is nothing anyone can do at the moment. I just hope this person that she loves, will learn to appreciate her and respond accordingly because as you say, Jenny is a very nice lady.”
Robert nodded his agreement and was about to go on his way when Freya put her hand on his arm.
“If Jenny could perhaps speak to you herself, it might help better than me trying to explain,” she said, “Perhaps if she could come to your flat to talk. That would be more private than talking at the cafe, don’t you think?”
`Robert paused for a little while before he spoke again.
“I hardly think that would help, Freya, since Jenny is YOUR friend, not mine and she may think I would have a cheek to be interfering, don’t you think?”
“But if I told her that I had spoken to you and I think that you may be the right person to help her, could she come and see you then?” Robert sighed and heaved a mighty groan.
“If she wants to come and see me, I will do what I can for her, but I can’t promise anything, you understand. My address is ...” Freya wanted to tell ROBERT that she knew his address because of her enquiries at the hospital, but she put her hand to her lips, knowing that she should not let him know that she had that information.
“Can you write it down for me,” she asked and Robert gave another heavy sigh as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket to produce a small notebook. “and perhaps I could come to visit you and Cameron sometime myself,” she added hopefully with a glint in her eye.
“That could be arranged,” he said, “but not yet, as I don’t expect Cameron to be out of hospital before the end of the week.”
Freya returned to her flat full of jubilation, even if there was a note of sorrow somewhere at the bottom of her heart. This would prove the mystery for both she and Jenny, but if Jenny found that Robert was her unrequited love, the fat was in the fire ...after all, Jenny had told Freya that her ‘lover’ hadn’t told her where he lived, had he?
Chapter Twelve
Freya battled with her thoughts, not knowing if she should tell Jenny about her find or not. After all, it was quite a gamble and if Robert turned out to be Jenny’s lover, that would be the end of herself and Robert ... nevertheless she had to be sure. She felt ashamed that she should think as she did about Robert. Nothing seemed to fit, but when she reflected again on Jenny’s grief, she decided she would give her the address but that she would wait for another few weeks before she did so.
Later that day, after she had again been job hunting, she went to the cafe to see Jenny.
Old Buggerlugs was on duty that morning and she had forgotten how he always did the early shift. Apparently his wife didn’t like him to be out late in the evenings and he never could find a waitress who liked to start work at 6.30 in the morning when they had to open the shop and arrange the chairs and tables that had been left unattended the night before.
“Hello Sir,” she said as she saw that Mr. Haggerstone was laying some table cloths out for the start of the day’s work. “I wanted to see Jenny, can you tell me which shift she will be on?” she asked and old Buggerlugs turned towards her with a wide smile on his face.
“Why Freya ... how lovely to see you again. Yes, Jenny will be in about twelve today. She’s been doing a double shift since you left. You wouldn’t ... No, I don’t suppose you would ... would you?”
“Would I what?” asked Freya with a wry smile on her face.
“Come back and work for me, dear. I can’t get a good waitress for love nor money. Not that I could offer any woman love or my wife wouldn’t be very pleased, would she, but I can offer you a rise, if you come back.”
Freya was happy that Mr. Haggerstone had asked her to come back to the cafe but she suddenly remembered how she would still like to have time off if she was allowed to visit Cameron at his home.
“I still have the same difficulties in my personal life,” she said, without elaborating, “and it may mean that I would have to have time off occasionally, but I could always change shifts with Jenny, if that’s alright with you.”
“That would be fine, Freya. When can you start? Now?”
Freya laughed as she went into the familiar dressing room where the staff kept their aprons and other working clothes. She was indeed happy to be working again and even happier to realize that she knew the job so well, that there was no difficulty in learning a new trade.
It took no time at all for Jenny to come on duty, surprised and happy that her friend was with her again.
“I’m glad old Buggerlugs has taken you on again, Freya. He hasn’t stopped moaning since you left. I hope you are O.K.?”
“I’m fine, but you. How are you . . . that’s the burning question? Have you got over that problem we discussed when we last met?”
Jenny’s smile left her face when Freya spoke.
“I hope I’m O.K,” she said in a quiet voice as she looked around her, “But I haven’t had a ‘you-know-what’ since that bastard left me.”
Freya was about to ask what Jenny meant by her reference to ‘you-know-what,’ when the penny dropped.
“You mean?”
“Yes, of course that’s what I mean and I’m worried about it too.”
“How long has it been since ...?”
“Just over six weeks now ... What do you think?”
“Well, I have heard of some folk who miss one for a few months and then find they are O.K. after it.” said Freya, but she was more than a little worried for her friend and she quickly tried to change the subject.
“Old Buggerlugs has told me that you might be able to change shifts with me if I need to be off as I was before I left. Is that O.K?” said Freya and Jenny grinned her agreement.
“No need to ask,” she said, “It’s great to have you back and just let me know if you need to go for anything. I’m not in any hurry and I don’t have a fella waiting round the corner for me ... At least I didn’t have the last time I looked.”
Freya left the cafe and made her way back to her flat, where she found the telephone ringing just as she got through the front door.
“Hi Freya?”
“Yes, is that you Robert?,” she murmured joyfully into the phone, having recognized the voice immediately.
“Yes, it’s me and I’ve just brought Cameron home with me from the hospital. He is a lot better, but looking a little pale.”
“That’s wonderful. When can I come and see him?”
Freya waited for an answer, but the phone was suddenly disconnected and all she was left listening to was a purring noise.
“Robert, Robert are you there?” she screamed and after a few seconds before she could dial Robert’s number, his voice came through again.
“Sorry, we were disconnected there. What was it you were saying?” he asked and Freya grinned with joy as she made her request again to see Cameron at the flat.
“Give us a week and that should do it. He’s talking and eating alright, so there’s a great improvement to what he was when you last saw him, but he’s still a little weak and I’d rather he built himself up a little more before he has any visitors. Is that alright?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Just give him my love ... if he remembers me,”
Freya replaced the phone with a wide grin on her face. She had got her job back again and she had been speaking to the man who meant such a lot in her life, whose little boy was recovering from a serious illness, so what more could she want, but at the back of her mind, she was concerned again for Jenny and wished her friend was a little more sensible and choosy about her paramours.