The Trouble With Words: a heart-warming romantic comedy

by Suzie Tullett

  A little voice told her she was on dangerous ground, but looking him in the eye again, there seemed to be something about this man. He certainly had the ability to bring out the worst in her. Or could that be the best? Annabel wasn’t sure anymore.

  Bugger it, she thought. Why not?

  Annabel kicked off her slippers and swapped them with a pair of trainers, she smiled. ‘So where to?’ she asked. After stepping outside, she shut the door behind her.

  ‘We don’t have to go anywhere,’ said Dan. ‘We have the perfect practice road here.’

  Much to Annabel’s horror, he indicated to her front street. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me?’

  ‘No, of course not. I mean look at it. It’s sloping without being too severe, just right for someone who’s never had the pleasure before.’

  Annabel looked around at the surrounding houses, pleasure not being quite the word she’d have chosen. ‘In front of the neighbours, you mean?’ Knowing them, she’d have been surprised if the curtains weren’t twitching already.

  Dan ignored her concerns and just laughed. ‘Do you want me to show you how it’s done? Or would you prefer to dive straight in?’

  She looked at the skateboard; the mere prospect of getting on that thing was enough to make her feel anxious. And thanks to their location, she knew she was about to show herself up; something she thought best delayed for as long as possible. ‘After you,’ she said, easily handing it over.

  Annabel watched him head up the road and, ready for action, put one foot on the board before pushing off. She couldn’t help but giggle as he slowly rolled towards her. Arms outstretched, he did nothing but wobble. Despite making it clear that he hadn’t done this in a while, Annabel had still assumed he’d be a bit more capable than this. Compared to her, he was meant to be the expert.

  ‘How cool is that?’ said Dan, suddenly jumping off the board.

  The man clearly didn’t know what he looked like.

  ‘Your turn,’ he said.

  Having just seen Dan’s efforts, Annabel told herself that she couldn’t be any worse and, took up her position in the road. With one foot on the skateboard she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It reminded her of the first time she’d ridden a bike. Having never been a physical child that had filled her with fear too. Until she realised how easy it was. Using her other foot, she propelled herself forward, before instinctively placing it flat behind the other. Using her arms for balance, she seemed to get the hang of it and her face, at last, relaxed into a smile.

  ‘I’m doing it! I’m doing it!’ she excitedly called out.

  While gradually making her way down the road, she dared to turn her head towards a cheering Dan as she passed him by. This had to be the most fun she’d had in years.

  Annabel felt freer than she’d felt in a long time; even more so when the board began to pick up pace thanks to a sudden incline. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins and Annabel wondered if this was how those adrenaline junkies felt.

  As she began to go even faster, Annabel thought she’d better slow down. ‘What do I do now?’ she shouted to Dan, after realising that she didn’t know how to. Her adrenaline reverted to downright nervousness, as he shouted something back. But the noise of the wheels on the road’s surface drowned him out, leaving Annabel no choice but to just keep going. The skateboard continued to gather momentum, she told herself not to panic. Advice she couldn’t help but ignore when a car suddenly turned the corner, only to head in her direction. ‘Shit!’ she screamed. ‘Dan! Dan!’

  As the vehicle got nearer and nearer, everything seemed to move in slow motion and Annabel realised if she didn’t want to hit it head on she had to jump. With her heart racing and no time to think, she spotted an up and coming garden hedge. ‘That’ll do,’ she told herself. With one eye on the car and one on the greenery, she desperately held her nerve until just the right second and suddenly leapt off of the board, eyes tight shut. As she flew through the air, all she could hear was the sound of screeching brakes, then nothing as she suddenly landed face down in the foliage.

  Confused and dazed, she felt someone suddenly upon her.

  ‘Annabel! Annabel! Are you alright?’ asked a frantic Dan. ‘Annabel, talk to me.’

  Flat out in the shrubbery, and with Dan’s help, she managed to roll onto her back. Her eyes locked onto his for a moment, as it began to dawn on her what had just happened. She began to smile. ‘That’s the most fun I’ve had in years,’ she said.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Dan, slumping down beside her. ‘Thank God you’re alright.’

  A vehicle door opened and slammed shut. ‘Of all the stupid things,’ said the female car driver.

  Annabel listened as footsteps angrily marched over.

  ‘Do you want to get yourself killed?’

  ‘Oh, fuck,’ said Annabel. Now she was in for it.

  ‘Annabel?’ said Rebecca, the car driver.

  12

  ‘It’s only me,’ Dan called out as he let himself into the house. He took off his jacket and hung it on the bannister. ‘Mum,’ he called out again. Dan couldn’t imagine where she’d got to. She hadn’t mentioned going anywhere. In fact, apart from the necessary doctor and hospital appointments, she hadn’t left the house since getting back from Amsterdam.

  He recalled the morning’s events. She had been acting pretty strange when he last saw her. Despite him paring jobs down to be around more, she’d certainly seemed keener than usual to pack him off to work, a sign that she could be up to something. Something she didn’t want him knowing about. At the time, he’d simply put it down to his mum being Mum; after all, ‘strange’ could be her middle name. But that was at around eight- thirty and it was now almost two. He furrowed his brow. If she had planned on leaving the house soon after him, surely she should have been back before now.

  Unless she hadn’t gone out at all, he thought to himself. It would be just like her to want to get on with yet more cleaning. ‘Shit!’ he said, as he suddenly remembered the step ladder.

  Dan pictured his ailing mother, unconscious and in need of medical attention, he raced down the hall to the kitchen, only to find she wasn’t there. His panic levels rose; he re-traced his footsteps and ran upstairs to his mother’s bedroom. ‘Mum, are you in here?’ he said. When he burst through the door there was still no sign of her. Back on the landing, he hastily checked the bathroom, his heart pounding as he wondered where she could be, if she was alright, and what he’d do if she wasn’t. Dan quickly made his way down stairs again and re-entered the kitchen. There had to be a clue as to her whereabouts somewhere?

  He scanned the room once more and spotted a note by the kettle. It simply read Back Soon. This didn’t tell him when the note was actually written, he realised, and he cursed himself for not checking in with his mum at some point during the day. If he had, he’d have a better idea as to when she’d actually left the house and, therefore, whether ‘soon’ really did mean ‘soon’. He usually called, but it was just his luck that today he’d had to deal with one crisis after another and hadn’t found the time to. Not that he could excuse himself. Would it really have been so difficult to just pick up the phone?

  He still felt uneasy, but insisted that if something serious had happened he’d have heard by now, somebody would have contacted him. Plus, for all he knew, the note could have been written in the last half an hour, rendering his panic completely unnecessary. ‘Yes, that’s it,’ he said, in an attempt at self-reassurance. ‘You’re worrying over nothing.’

  Rather than just wait for her return, Dan decided to try and calm down by making himself useful. He considered getting on with preparing dinner, but one look inside the fridge told him there wasn’t much to choose from. A couple of eggs, some milk, and a ropey looking tomato clearly passed its best; he had to admit that he was hardly surprised. The household shopping had taken a back seat lately, neither he nor his mother having much of an appetite these days.

  ‘Maybe she had the same idea,’
said Dan. ‘And she’s nipped to the shop?’

  He sighed. Who was he kidding, she could be anywhere.

  He checked the water level in the kettle and clicked it on ready to make a cuppa. If she wasn’t back by the time he’d drank it, he’d start to ring around. He felt glad of the noise as the water began to boil. Silence gave him the opportunity to think, something he tried not to do of late – about his mum, about what was happening to her.

  He realised that they were as bad as each other on that score. She wasn’t ready to discuss her actual cancer and he wasn’t really ready to listen. Yes, he’d tried to push her on the matter, but he could have easily contacted the doctor, the nurse, or even a cancer charity for information, none of which he’d done. And, up until now, he fooled himself into thinking this was out of respect for his mother. In reality, he supposed they were both just burying their heads in the sand; a situation that Dan knew needed to change.

  He headed over to the table, and his mother’s laptop. Switching it on, he watched it fire up into life, determined to find out all he could about his mother’s illness. He clicked onto the Internet and typed oesophageal cancer into the search bar, an endless list of sites from all sorts of organisations suddenly appeared in front of him. With articles from the NHS, Cancer Research, Medicine.net, and Macmillan staring back at him, he geared himself up ready to start reading, feeling almost irritated when his mobile began to ring, breaking his concentration.

  Dan pulled his phone out of his pocket, he didn’t recognise the number. Oh God, he thought. Mum.

  He cautiously answered the call, dreading what he might be about to hear. ‘Hello,’ he said.

  Dan listened to the voice on the other end, his eyes narrowed. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and told himself that this had to be a joke. ‘What?’ he asked. ‘When? Why?’

  Disbelief turned to horror as the caller continued to talk. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll be right there.’

  After he ended the call, Dan rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall. He grabbed his keys from his jacket and ran out the door, before quickly making his way to his car. Once inside, he couldn’t seem to make the key fit the ignition. ‘Come on! Come on!’ he said, before finally managing to slot it into the keyhole. He started up the engine; he quickly shoved the gearstick into first and, with a hasty look over his shoulder, raced off down the street. His mind swirled in confusion. ‘There must be some mistake,’ he insisted. ‘This can’t be happening.’

  Dan overtook one vehicle after another, every set of traffic lights he neared seemed against him. He thought he’d never reach his destination. Not that he could say he was relieved when he finally did. He knew he should find a space, but at first glance he couldn’t see one and, rather than drive around in circles, he stopped his car on the spot. Dan didn’t care if he’d blocked someone in, he got out and hurried towards the building, he told himself that a disgruntled motorist was the least of his problems. Dan charged up the steps and, once inside, headed straight for the reception.

  ‘I’m here about my mother,’ he said, trying to catch his breath.

  ‘Name,’ said the woman behind the desk.

  Much to Dan’s annoyance, she didn’t even have the decency to look up.

  ‘Gerry,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Geraldine. Geraldine Palmer.’

  The woman slowly tapped the keys on her computer, while Dan impatiently willed her to get on with it. He absorbed his surroundings; the inside of a police station was the last place he expected to find himself.

  ‘Oh yes, Geraldine Palmer,’ the receptionist eventually said. At last giving him her full attention, she fixed him with a mocking stare. ‘It says here she was arrested during a drug raid.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ said Dan. ‘There’s obviously been a misunderstanding.’

  ‘They all say that, Sir,’ she replied.

  ‘No, you don’t understand. My mum, she’s sick.’

  ‘Yes, that’s something else they all say too.’ Her condescending attitude continued as she indicated to the waiting area. ‘Now if you could take a seat over there please. I’ll go and find out what’s happening.’

  As she reluctantly rose to her feet and disappeared out back, Dan didn’t know what to think. He began to pace up and down, desperate for someone to come and tell him what the hell was going on. His mother, a drug bust, there had to have been a mix up somewhere along the line. His mum was the most anti-drug individual he’d ever known. He imagined her stuck in some dank, dark police cell, insisting she must be terrified by now. In her condition, he dreaded to think what that was doing to any health she had left.

  He finally took a seat and dropped his head in his hands for a moment. He looked up again and glanced around at his surroundings. With wanted posters showing video stills of shoplifters, burglars, and pickpockets, he knew his mum didn’t belong here. Something these police officers had to have realised by now.

  The sound of voices, at last, began to filter through from out back and Dan strained to hear. Convinced one of them belonged to his mother, he struggled to make out her words. Everything sounded cordial enough. Although in her shoes, he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t screaming and shouting. That’s what he’d be doing after a wrongful arrest.

  The door at the side of the reception desk suddenly opened. ‘Mum,’ he said. Relieved to see her, he jumped up from his seat. ‘Are you okay?’

  She smiled. ‘I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?’

  As she turned to the big, burly officer accompanying her, Dan couldn’t believe his mother’s response. He couldn’t believe her relaxed demeanour. This had to be a dream, or more to the point, a nightmare.

  ‘Thank- you,’ she said. ‘You’ve been very kind.’

  ‘Just doing my job, Madam,’ the police officer replied.

  ‘Kind,’ said Dan, doing his utmost to keep calm. ‘Mum, these people arrested you.’

  ‘And it won’t be happening again,’ said the officer. ‘Will it, Mrs. Palmer?’

  ‘It certainly will not,’ she replied.

  ‘Now you take good care of yourself,’ he added.

  ‘I will,’ said his mum. ‘And it was lovely meeting you.’

  Watching their exchange, it was all way too civilised for Dan’s liking. He felt powerless, as if he was the only one who could see what was wrong with this scene.

  ‘You ready, Dan?’ she simply asked, moving towards the exit.

  Dan looked from her, to the police officer and back again, waiting for someone to tell him what was going on. Surely he deserved an explanation as to why his mother had been rounded up with a bunch of drug-dealing, drug-taking thugs?

  The police officer remained silent as he stared back at him.

  Obviously not.

  Lost for words, Dan realised he’d no choice but to follow his mum out.

  ‘Well that was an adventure,’ she said, once he’d caught her up.

  ‘An adventure?’ said Dan. ‘An adventure? Is that all you can say? Do you know what you’ve just put me through? I’ve been worried sick in there. Not that anyone seems to care.’

  His mum laughed. ‘Oh, don’t be such a drama queen.’

  ‘A drama queen. Mum, this is serious stuff. You’ve just been locked up. I mean do you plan on telling me why?’

  ‘Of course, I do. I just thought it would be nice to get home first. It’s been a long day.’

  She could say that again.

  ‘Now where are we parked?’

  Dan felt at a loss over the whole thing, he indicated to his car. As they began making their way over he told himself he was going mad, he’d inadvertently crossed over into the twilight zone. None of this was really happening and he just had to go with it.

  ‘What’s that?’ his mum suddenly asked. She pointed to the windscreen.

  Dan’s stomach sank as he spotted the parking ticket. In hindsight, illegally parking on police property probably wasn’t the wisest of decisions. He snatched the yellow packet from under the wipe
r and, without a word, turned back towards the police station.

  ‘Where are you going?’ his mum called out.

  ‘To try and sort this,’ he replied. ‘One criminal in the family is enough, don’t you think?’

  Dan handed his mum a glass of whiskey before taking the seat opposite with a glass of his own. He knew alcohol wasn’t really the answer, for either of them. But after the day’s excitement he told himself one drink wouldn’t hurt.

  ‘So, about today?’ he said.

  He felt like this should be the other way round and waited for his mother to speak. He watched her twirl her glass backwards and forwards between the palms of her hands as she gathered her thoughts. She looked tired. In fact, more than that, she looked weary.

  ‘There are over fifty museums in Amsterdam,’ his mum began. ‘Did you know that?’

  ‘No,’ Dan replied. ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘It would take days to get around them. Then there are all the art galleries and historical sites like Dam Square and Oude Kerk to take in. That’s a church in the Red Light District.’ She paused for a second. ‘You should go one day. It’s interesting.’

  Dan insisted she was advocating he visit the place of worship and not the brothels.

  ‘I can imagine,’ he said.

  ‘That’s where Missy and I were when we decided it was time for a break.’ She sipped on her whiskey. ‘We went into this coffee shop. You know the kind I mean. Brown cafes, I think they call them.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ said Dan.

  ‘Well you can’t go to Amsterdam without having a look, can you? And we fancied a sit down anyway, so we thought we’d kill two birds with one stone. That’s when Missy told me about this research she’d come across.’

  Dan threw himself back in his seat. ‘Missy,’ he said. ‘Why am I not surprised?’ He didn’t want to think badly of his mother’s friend, but the more he heard about this woman, the more he struggled to think anything but.