The Bow Wow Club

by May, Nicola

  ‘Oh right. How are you doing anyway?’

  ‘I’ve realised that being single is where it’s at - at the moment anyway. Loving the ladies, like in the old days. Talking of which…’

  Two blondes walked in, clocked them and made for the bar.

  ‘The one with long hair is well fit.’

  Michael shook his head. ‘I should have known it wouldn’t have lasted long with you and Emily. There is a word commitment in the dictionary, which I don’t think you’ve found yet.’

  ‘Hah! And how’re you doing, now you’ve got over your best mate being a complete dick?’

  ‘I’m good actually. Work has picked up and I started writing that novel I always harped on about.’

  ‘Blimey. What’s it about?’

  ‘It’s a love story.’

  ‘What! Look at you. Micky Bell, romantic author.’

  ‘Don’t take the piss. It’s good. I’m enjoying it.’

  ‘So, who are you basing your heroine on then? Please don’t say Madam Want It All.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. The only person she ever loved was herself. No. I’ve met someone. But I’m not telling you about her in case you steal her.’

  ‘Don’t be like that. I was just beginning to feel better.’

  ‘She’s called Ruby. A bloody decent girl. Good laugh. Sexy too.’

  ‘I’m really pleased for you, mate. How long have you been seeing her then?’

  ‘Well, that’s the point. I’m not. Her husband died a couple of years ago and it’s been hard graft. There were times when we were so close but I knew she was still thinking about him and not me, and it was tough. I said we should have a break and now she hasn’t come back. I stupidly thought absence would make the heart grow fonder.’

  ‘Bloody women!’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘So what you are going to do?’

  ‘I’ve written her a letter.’

  ‘You’re so soft.’

  ‘No, I’m a writer and if I can’t convey how I feel on paper then there’s no hope. I love her, mate.’

  ‘Well, I hope it works out.’

  ‘If it doesn’t, I’m tempted to go away for a bit. I can do my writing anywhere and I’m sick of that shit-hole of a flat. It’s not good for Barney anyway.’

  ‘Well, let me know where you go if you do. I’ve missed you, mate.’

  ‘Justin Thompson, you’re going all soft on me, now there’s a thing.’

  ‘Fuck off. Now come on, they’re showing a cup game at the Blandford this afternoon if you fancy watching it? Oi, oi. Or, maybe not. Budge up mate, looks like we’ve got company.’

  The two blondes from the bar were walking towards them. They looked and sounded a little rough around the edges.

  ‘Do you mind if we share your table? It’s packed in here today.’ The short-haired one of the two squeezed up close to Michael. ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you? Tall, I mean.’ She rubbed her hand right up his thigh.

  Justin laughed. ‘Small feet he’s got though.’

  The girls seemed quite drunk and giggled. They noticed the boys’ empty glasses. ‘Going to the bar, are you?’ the long haired blonde enquired. ‘If I give you the money, can you get us a couple of large Chardonnays?’

  Justin stood up. ‘Don’t be silly - I’ll get them.’

  ‘I thought we were going to watch the football?’ Michael wasn’t in the mood for this. Justin made a face that Michael understood very well.

  ‘OK. One more it is. Let me come to the bar and help you.’

  With a drink in each hand the boys headed back towards their table. It had now been occupied by a group of lads and the girls were nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Cheeky bitches, they’ve gone.’ Justin was not amused.

  Michael put his hand to his now empty left pocket. ‘Thieving bitches more like. So has my phone.’ He put his hand to his head. ‘Can I use yours to call the police?’

  ‘You’ll never get it back, mate.’

  Michael sighed at Justin’s negativity. Yes, momentarily it had been good to see him. But a sad realisation had suddenly dawned on him: that the person in front of him was effectively a stranger now. He had brought nothing but trouble to his door before, and here he was doing it again.

  The experience of being betrayed had no doubt helped Michael to grow as a person. And he knew now, for sure, that he didn’t want someone he couldn’t trust or rely on in his life any more.

  He headed for the door and glanced back.

  ‘You’re right, mate. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back.’

  – Chapter Eighty –

  Ruby sang along to the radio as she hung her washing on the clothes rack. She had so enjoyed her time at Daffodils, and now that she understood it was Michael she wanted, a certain calmness had overtaken her.

  If he was back with Emily then he still had to know how she felt. He had said he loved her. Surely he hadn’t got over her that quickly? He would have gone back to his horrible ex on a whim, and Ruby was sure that she could win him over. No, Mr Strong Hands was not getting away from her that easily. She was ready for him and felt excited at the prospect of sleeping with him again.

  She had no regrets about what had happened between her and Nick. In fact, it had been a good thing: it had helped her to understand just how much she did want Michael.

  Her night with Nick had felt right though. It had made her see that a fling with the likes of Harry was just a short-term gratification, and that if she was honest with herself, it had made her feel awful afterwards.

  She had thought it best to text Michael in case Emily was around when she rang. She had drafted it and redrafted it at least fifteen times. She had one chance to get this right and she didn’t want to blow it. She finished up simply stating…

  I so want to see you. I’ve missed you a lot! I await your call. Love R Xx

  That had been two days ago. She went through scenarios in her head. It had definitely been delivered. Maybe he was waiting to be alone if Emily was on the scene? Or maybe he had given up on her? I mean, if he was all loved up with her now, then what could he say in reply? She would give it another day and then would have to send another one. It was annoying he didn’t have a set office as she didn’t dare just turn up at his flat in case she answered the door.

  She switched the kettle on and opened the fridge.

  ‘Damn!’ She had run out of milk. She slipped on her flip-flops and headed to the corner shop. Margaret was scrubbing her step as she walked past.

  ‘Hello, duck,’ called the old lady. ‘Long time no see. Did you have a good time in the Lakes? Phew, that’s that job done. I’m just about to make a cuppa; will you come in and have one with your old neighbour?’

  ‘I was just going off to get milk to make one, so I will do. Thank you.’

  Ruby followed Margaret into the kitchen. Bert was out in the back garden weeding.

  Ruby noticed the familiar-looking glasses case perched on top of the microwave. ‘You’ve got the same glasses case as Michael.’

  Margaret raised her eyebrows. ‘They are Michael’s. Bugger! I forgot all about him coming round.’

  ‘He came here?’

  ‘Well, he actually came to see you. Literally the day you went off to the Lakes with The Fireman.’

  ‘You didn’t tell him I was with someone, did you?’

  ‘Ruby! Of course I bloody didn’t.’ The old lady looked contrite. ‘I had too much sherry, as usual, and I conked out. He must have got up and left whilst I was sparko. Oh no, it’s all coming back to me now!’

  ‘What? That sounds serious.’

  ‘No, it’s not. I just suggested that he wrote you a letter.’

  ‘A letter, you say?’ Bert echoed as he came through the back door to wash his filthy hands.

  ‘Yes, you know - when Michael came round the other day? You were asleep, and then I fell asleep. He said he was going to write a letter.’

  ‘I don’t even remember him coming roun
d.’ Bert poured some washing up liquid onto his hands, then looked up. ‘Shit, I do recall something now. I needed a bit of paper so I wrote my horses on the back of an envelope I found against the kettle. I took it to the bookies.’

  ‘Oh Bert, you silly old sod. Please don’t say you threw it away?’

  ‘Hmm, now what did I do with it?’ He scratched his head.

  ‘You are useless!’ Margaret said crossly.

  ‘Don’t you go on at me, Maggie. You were the one in a Bristol Cream coma.’

  Ruby tried to remain calm. ‘OK, Bert, think back if you can.’

  ‘Ha. I remember now. I saw your name on it, Rubes, so I took the letter out.’ A wry smile crossed his face. ‘The bloke was pouring his heart out.’

  ‘So where did you put it then?’ Margaret was frosty.

  ‘Have you got a usual place you put paperwork, maybe?’ Ruby’s voice was getting slightly higher.

  ‘This drawer here.’ Bert rifled through it. ‘It was on that blue smart paper she uses.’

  ‘Out of the way, let me.’ Margaret began to flick through every piece of paper carefully, but nothing came to light.

  ‘Maybe you did take it to the betting shop?’ Ruby had a slight panic in her voice now.

  ‘No, love. It’ll be here somewhere, I’m sure,’ Margaret soothed.

  Ruby gulped. Bert put his hand to his white scruffy hair and shut his eyes. He began mumbling and pacing around the kitchen.

  ‘Woke up. Newspaper on knees. Couldn’t find paper. Walked to kitchen. Found envelope.’ He moved into the front room and began pacing around again. Then, suddenly he punched the air.

  ‘Bloody eureka.’ He pointed to the shelf on the fireplace and to the wedding photo in which Ruby and George smiled sweetly back at him. ‘It’s behind there, sweetheart. Makes total sense now. That husband of yours is taking care of it.’

  Tears pricked Ruby’s eyes at the whole emotion of the scenario. She hurriedly pulled out the now crumpled sheets of paper.

  ‘I have to go home and read it, right now.’

  ‘Yes, go on, duck,’ Margaret said excitedly. ‘And then tell me exactly what he says.’

  ‘A funny little squeaking noise, eh?’ Bert chipped in.

  ***

  Ruby threw herself down on her bed and began to read hungrily.

  I love you, Ruby Stevens. I cannot get you out of my head. I’ve tried, oh how I’ve tried. I think sometimes I wish I had never met you, as never before has someone affected me like you have. Every waking moment it is you on my mind. Silly things I think about daily. Like the way you bite your thumbnails when you’re anxious, or throw your head back and laugh in that infectious way. The little squeaking noise you make as you are about to come. There is nothing about you that I don’t like. Well, apart from the stupid piece of you that doesn’t realise how much I do care about you.

  ‘I can’t believe it.’ Ruby shouted, completely overwhelmed that her Magnificent Michael felt the same way. She had got completely the wrong end of the stick re. Emily. He loved her. Wanted to be with her. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She had to go to him. She quickly dialled his number. It went straight to answerphone.

  She rang for a taxi, pulled on her favourite summer dress and smudged her lips with gloss.

  ***

  On reaching the ugly Clapham block of flats her brain froze. What number was it again? Thirteen, that’s right, unlucky for some but her favourite number. She pressed the button for the lift. It was taking an age. She headed for the stairs and began to run up them two at a time.

  Puffing heavily, she rattled the knocker as hard as she could. A girl with lank black hair and smoking a roll-up was putting her key in the door next to Michael’s.

  ‘He’s not here, sister. Saw him go off with a holdall and that dog of his a few days ago.’

  ‘Oh. He didn’t happen to say where he was going, did he?’

  ‘Said that if I heard anyone knocking and asked where he was, just to say FBI to them and they would understand. Goodness knows what he meant. Maybe he’s joined them or summink. I bloody hope not.’

  Ruby kissed the dirty-looking girl on the cheek.

  ‘Thank you! Thank you SO much.’

  – Chapter Eighty-One –

  ‘Nick, I owe you big time,’ Ruby shouted out of the window of his campervan as she sped away from the fire station Devon bound.

  Once she had reached the M5 she started to feel slightly panicky. She wondered why exactly Michael gone to the Ferry Boat Inn, especially if he had been so intent on seeing her. It seemed strange. She remembered back to a conversation they had had months ago when he had said that if ever he was in trouble then that is where he would go. She recalled saying they should have the same pact.

  She really hoped that Michael wasn’t in trouble and suddenly began to doubt if she was doing the right thing. I mean, she was travelling for hours to see him. What if he had a secret lover down there? Or if he was in some sort of scrape that he didn’t want her to know about?

  No, she was being ridiculous now. He had written the letter to her just days ago and he had completely spelled out his love for her. Maybe she should call him? She pulled over on to the hard shoulder and did just that. The call went straight through to voicemail. Well, there was a chance he was in the FBI then, as you weren’t allowed to use phones in there. Saying that, he hadn’t answered his phone for days. She imagined all sorts of terrible scenarios and began to feel slightly sick.

  It had been such a journey to get this far with him and she just hoped that now everything would be all right, that they could work it out once and for all. Their relationship over just the space of a few months had been a catalogue of disasters really. With getting her bag stolen, then falling over in the street on New Year’s Eve and then Michael getting the wrong end of the stick - well, sort of - about her and Harry.

  But in all of this Michael hadn’t really put a foot wrong - apart from screaming at her in the churchyard, but he had every reason to do so. She had been seen kissing someone who was the spitting image of her husband in broad daylight, after all. Poor, sweet Michael, she couldn’t wait to make it up to him.

  She began to think about how quickly life can change. Six months ago, she hadn’t made a dress for over a year and since then she had fulfilled the dreams of at least ten brides. She hadn’t even heard of The Bow Wow Club and the wonderful characters she had met through it. Simon would be a friend for life, and as for Nick, he was such a beautiful man and they had been in the right place at the right time for each other. Something which doesn’t happen often enough.

  Finding love, she acknowledged, was all about timing. Her mother had said that to her once and Laura had been so right. It actually made Ruby wonder how anyone actually got together with regards to age, compatibility, wanting children at the same time, where to live and so many other things that came into the equation of life.

  But Michael was so right for her. She fancied the pants off him, but most importantly she loved him and he loved her. They were good for each other. Wanted the best for each other. She was so proud that he was writing his novel and he was so supportive of her in every single way imaginable.

  Thankfully, it was still light as she turned right at the Sportsman’s Bar and headed down the long winding road to Dittisham. She would just park up, head to the Ferry Boat Inn and pray he was there. If he wasn’t, she would just wait for him to arrive. It was so close-knit down here that someone would have seen a six foot four man and his black Labrador and know where they were staying, she was sure.

  She locked Nick’s campervan and began to walk down the very steep hill to the pub. It was a beautiful summer evening and the sound of gulls and the boats filled her heart with hope. She smiled as she heard children squeal as they caught crabs down on the pontoon and the bell ring for the ferry, and she thought back to the special time they had spent in Dartmouth before she had ruined it all by having a strop.

  She crept past the pub door and tried t
o see in, but couldn’t. She really needed a drink anyway, and was sure they would make her feel welcome.

  Tentatively walking in, she noticed Slugger the bespectacled barman in his usual position. He recognised Ruby from Valentine’s Day and smiled broadly. She put her finger to her lips to ssh his greeting.

  Her heart did a massive leap when she saw her handsome big man sitting in the window seat that housed her favourite water view in the world. Barney was asleep under the table.

  She very quietly took a seat opposite her lover, then cleared her throat lightly to get his attention. Barney opened one eye, then went back to sleep. Michael looked up.

  ‘Oh, hello there.’ Ruby’s voice slightly faltered.

  Michael swallowed hard. He bit the inside of his mouth then exhaled deeply as the love of his life continued.

  ‘My name’s Ruby.’ His eyes filled with tears as his pretty table companion went on, ‘You’re very tall.’

  ‘And you’re very ginger.’

  ‘I’ve had a terrible year.’

  ‘What’s made it so awful? Tell me, Ruby.’

  ‘There was this man, see. I met him outside a tube station. I’d been mugged. He was really kind. Had really strong hands. But he did something terribly wrong.’

  ‘Ah, right. What exactly did he do wrong then?’ Michael reached over and took both her hands.

  ‘He told me that he loved me. Told me far too soon.’

  ‘How unthinkable is that?’

  ‘I know, I mean - how dare do something so rash? But this man, this man…’ Ruby started to get choked ‘… he is the most beautiful person in the world. He pulled me out of a serious darkness and made it light again. He made me feel loved and safe and wanted. And I feel terrible that I have treated him so badly when he didn’t deserve it at all.’

  ‘So, if you saw this man again, what would you say to him now?’

  ‘I would say that I love him. I love him with all my heart. And I would quite happily spend the rest of my life with him.’

  ‘OK – well, I think if you said that to him, then he really would quite like it.’

  ‘Really?’ Tears slowly ran down Ruby’s cheeks.