If Only

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If Only Page 6

by Yvonne Beattie


  Nothing.

  I have wi-fi here in the Macdonald Resort where the swimming pool is, so I know it’s not a case of ‘no signal silence’.

  I drop my used towel into the wash basket on my way out and stop instantly as the smell of bacon wafts greedily past my nose.

  I need to follow that smell.

  As I round the corner I find I come face to sign with a little café and I look down as I feel my stomach rumble noisily, I didn’t even have breakfast this morning which is very unlike me. I see an empty table so I grab it quickly and snatch up the menu. I order a bacon and egg roll and a large glass of milk. Just as the waitress turns to walk away I catch a glimpse of the tray bakes, so I quickly shout her back and order a millionaires shortbread too. I reason with myself that it’s ok, I just swam it off. And, I am on holiday.

  I try to call Joel, but there is no answer, so I pick up a newspaper from another empty table and settle into my seat, enjoying the bustling atmosphere and the time to myself. The tabloid front page is covered in snow facts and they have a big article on what to do and what not to do when there is heavy snow, another article about driving in snow, how to build the perfect snowman, and how to make ice lanterns. I really want to try that one. I continue to flick after the waitress returns with my order.

  “Looks like you’re enjoying that,” I look up, mid bite, to find the ogler smiling down at me.

  “O, yesh, itsh deshishous,” I feel my eyes smiling as I stupidly try to answer him back with my full mouth.

  He laughs and asks if the other seat at my table is taken.

  I try and chew quickly, but shake my head and gesture for him to sit down.

  When I eventually manage to swallow the Bigfoot sized bite I’d shoveled into my mouth, I smile but frown at him, “So what’s the story this time?”

  “I swear to God, I am not following you,” he laughs again easily, shaking his head. “I use the gym here, look, here’s my membership card,” he throws it on the table and it lands an inch from my hand.

  I pick it up, “Martin Fuller, huh?”

  “Uh, Marty…” he corrects me.

  “Right, Smarty Marty,” I smirk at him.

  “You should be a comedian,” he smirks back.

  “I know, I am incredibly funny, aren’t I? Nice hair,” I hand his card back to him and can’t help a small shiver from running through me as our hands touch for a moment.

  He looks at his card himself, “It’s old,” he smiles coyly. “Long hair was the ‘in’ thing.”

  “I prefer it how it is now,” I compliment him.

  “Thanks,” he says and runs his hand through his cropped wet hair. He must be right out of the shower.

  “Here you go, Marty,” the waitress appears from behind him and leans over him to place his plate on the table. As she pulls back up, she puts her hand firmly on his shoulder and leans down to his other side and says, “Enjoy!”

  “Uh, thanks,” he replies to her nervously but is more than obviously uncomfortable by her over familiar gesture.

  “You’re welcome,” she purrs with another shoulder squeeze.

  I watch on as his eyes meet mine and I see him visibly squirm, then somewhat relax as she walks away again.

  “So, you know each other?” I ask him.

  “Uh, yeah, sort of,” he replies.

  “Mmm, hmm,” I say as I bite into my roll again.

  He opens his roll and douses ketchup all over his sausages.

  “It’s not like that. She won’t take no for an answer. I seldom come into the café anymore as she’s usually here hounding me. I only came in to give my mate over there his computer game I’d borrowed.”

  I look to where he indicated with a head nod and see a couple with a tiny baby chatting away.

  “He doesn’t have much time for playing games these days,” he smiles fondly at them. “That’s Paul, we’ve been best mates since we were kids, and his wife Paula. They got married last year and little Kade came along last month.”

  “Wait, their names are Paul and Paula?” I ask carefully.

  He laughs, “Yeah, hysterical isn’t it. You should’ve heard their wedding speeches.”

  I find myself giggling at the expression on his face, “I can imagine. I bet that causes a lot of confusion.”

  He smiles, “They’re great. They asked me to be the little guys Godfather,” he continues to smile proudly.

  “Aww, that’s lovely,” I feel proud for him.

  “I know, God help the little tike,” he shakes his head. “It really made my year,” he openly admits.

  “It’s a lovely thing to be asked, I’ll bet it did,” I reassure him.

  I pick up the knife lying beside my tray bake, “You want to split this with me?”

  “Don’t need to ask me twice,” he nods greedily at it. “The baker in the village makes these, they are immense.”

  I nod and dive head first into my slice. He is right, it is amaze-balls.

  “So who is it that you are up here with?” he asks.

  “Just my friends, Bex and her boyfriend Simon, and Joel who is Bex’s older brother,” I reply quickly before taking another bite.

  “So are you and Joel…” he wiggles his eyebrows, “You know…”

  I look at him bemused, “Know what?” I ask.

  “You know? Together? Going out? An item?” his cheeks go a little bit red as he looks at me.

  I smile again, “No. No, we are just friends.”

  He exhales slowly, “That’s great,” he nods.

  “It is?” I study him.

  “Yeah, means your fair play,” he looks me straight in the eye.

  “Oh really?” I ask taken aback by his bluntness.

  “Really, well, unless you’re seeing someone else?” he back tracks.

  I stifle an embarrassed giggle, “No, I’m not seeing anyone else.” I feel my cheeks starting to ache from smiling so much. He is really cute and extremely charming.

  “That’s great news,” he looks as happy as he sounds. “You got any plans for this afternoon?”

  I’m surprised by this question for some reason, “Uh, no. I actually do not. I’ve been trying to get hold of Joel, but he’s not answering his phone. Bex and Simon apparently got up and left early to spend the day together, just the two of them.”

  “Have you been up the funicular railway yet?” he asks.

  “No. I haven’t, it’s on my bucket list,” I watch him as he wipes his mouth after devouring his slice of tray bake.

  “I’d love to see what else is on your bucket list. You want to go up with me this afternoon?” he asks.

  “Are you, like, asking me out on a date?” I obviously flirt with him and he smiles coyly.

  “Why, yes, I guess I am asking you out on a date, even though I don’t even know your name yet,” he prompts me to share.

  “Hmm, well why don’t we see how our ‘date’ goes, and if it goes well, I’ll tell you my name?” I play with him.

  He laughs, humouring me, and shakes his head, “You know what? Whatever works, I’m down with that!”

  “I borrowed Joel’s car, so I’ll need to take it back to him. Is that ok?” I ask, still smiling and hoping he has a car with him.

  “Of course. My car is parked out front, are you in the main car park?” I nod. “Cool, I’ll grab my car and meet you there in a few minutes, then I can follow you.”

  “OK, sounds like a plan,” I fish my keys out of my bag, quickly settle my bill, and we make our separate ways out.

  Today just got a whole lot better.

  Chapter 10

  “Wow,” I gasp as I look out and over the mountain across at the spectacular view.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” Marty states proudly.

  “Yeah. I haven’t been to Aviemore since I was a kid and we definitely did the funicular railway, but I can’t really remember it,” I answer him while absorbing the peaceful scenery firmly to memory.

  There is a hard frost coverin
g the ground at the height we are at, but looking across the valley, I can see there is some snow sitting on the tops of all the hills. It’s so picturesque, but I doubt a photograph using my phone would do it any justice.

  We wonder around the tourist exhibits, read some of the data provided about the mountain, and I buy some over priced coasters from the gift shop that I really don’t need, but somehow can’t live without, then we head through to the restaurant area following the ‘exit’ signs.

  “You hungry? Or thirsty?” Marty asks me.

  “Not really,” I reply while skimming the menu that’s conveniently hung above the bar.

  “Me either,” he shrugs. “Want to head back down the mountain and maybe go for a drink or something in town?”

  I look at him, pleasantly surprised, “Don’t you have things to do?”

  “Uh, not really,” he smiles confidently. “I’d love to take you for a drink though, if you’re not fed-up of me that is.”

  “Surprisingly, I’m not,” I tease him.

  “Oh, thanks,” he rolls his eyes.

  “I’m only joking,” I nudge him gently and he puts his arm easily around my shoulder giving me a squeeze. “You’re not half as annoying as I thought you’d be when we met you in the bar the other night.”

  “I’m glad I give out such good vibes,” he replies, and it occurs to me that I have possibly hurt his feelings.

  “I didn’t mean that to sound as harsh as it maybe did,” I turn to look at him, but find him smirking and not at all put out by my honesty. “Why did you kiss me that night?”

  I can’t believe I just asked him that outright, what was I thinking? It was out of my mouth before I got the chance to think about what I was saying. I cover my mouth with my hand in embarrassment and look down.

  He shrugs, “I’d been dying to all night.”

  “Right,” I shrug back at him. Like that’s a reasonable explanation, just on a whim.

  “You’re a really good pool player, by the way,” he compliments me.

  “Thanks, you’re pretty good yourself,” I reply.

  “Thanks,” he says and pulls my hand away from my mouth.

  I look up at him and he tucks a stray piece of my hair behind my ear, it must look such a mess, I quickly dried it after swimming and threw it up in a loose ponytail.

  Before I get the chance to think of anything else to say, I see his eyes dart downward to my mouth, then in an instant they flash back up to meet my line of vision again. He then quickly leans down and kisses me firmly, but gently on the mouth and it feels better than good. The other night, I’d had a few drinks and all week I’ve been thinking about what a good kisser he was, but something just feels so right about this. I wasn’t sure if my mind was playing with me and building up an inebriated kiss. I feel his tongue touch mine and my heart flutters instantly, I open my mouth wider and go to stand on my tip toes to make it easier, when, “Oi, oi, oi, you two. There’s a time and a place for all that malarkey!”

  I immediately pull away as Marty grabs my waist and starts stifling a laugh with his head dipped down. I turn, red in the face, to find I’m face to face with a smug expression attached to a middle-aged woman.

  “Mum, what are you doing up here?” Marty turns obviously in denial, towards the woman, who is apparently his mother.

  “Well, I could ask you the same thing, son. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your pretty friend then?” She asks blatantly and I now know where Marty gets it from.

  I look at her tentatively and smile shyly, “Hi, I’m Rachel. Um, Marty’s… friend.”

  “I can see that,” she says taking my hand and winking at me cheekily. “I’m Deb, his mum.”

  I relax my stance slightly, she knows she’s embarrassed me and I can tell she’s done it on purpose.

  “OK, Mum. Intro’s are done, you can go now,” Marty ushers her to go away.

  “No rush on my part, dear. Maggie is in the ladies, I’m just waiting for her, though you know with her women’s troubles she might be ages yet,” she turns back to me and points downwards, toward her lady bits. “She suffers from awful bouts of recurring cystitis, the poor thing,” she adds in a hushed, but not in any way quieter, voice.

  “For goodness sake, Mother. Leave the woman with some dignity,” Marty tries to shut her up while going extremely red in the face.

  She barely stops for air, glimpses at Marty with a slight frown then simply carries on, “Maggie and I thought we’d pretend to be tourists today, before the rush starts tomorrow. We’re going to have a bite to eat up here and a wee glass of fizz,” she rubs her hands together excitedly. “It’s just lovely up here, isn’t Rachel?”

  I find myself smiling openly at her, she is a cracker, “Yes, it really is. I was just saying that to Marty.”

  “Right, mum. We need to go. I’ll speak to you later on, ok?” Marty takes my hand and pulls me toward him, evidentially getting no success in ushering his mum to go away, he’s decided we will leave.

  “You’re welcome to join us?” She suggests eagerly. “Rachel, Maggie is such a hoot, you’ll have a blast with us!”

  Just as Marty inadvertently shouts, “NO!”

  At the same time, I find I’m saying, “That would be lovely!”

  Marty drops my hand and looks at me with what could only be described as a death stare, “What?”

  I shrug at him, “What? That would be nice, isn’t that ok?”

  He looks at the ceiling while taking a steady breath, then at his mum, and me again, “OK, OK,” he concedes, through gritted teeth. “We will stay for one drink, ok?”

  “Fabulous!” she says, happily. “Quick look, those folks are leaving that window table with the perfect view.”

  I watch as she runs over to the table nearly knocking another couple out of the way as they try to get the table too.

  “Sorry, Marty,” I turn to look up at him but realise he is already studying me.

  “It’s fine, Rachel,” he gives me a small smile emphasising my name, now that he knows it. “She’s great, really, but prepare yourself, she’s from another universe.”

  “I highly doubt that,” I pat him on the back reassuringly and then walk over to the table that his mum is now making ours, taking my jacket off as I go.

  “In my day, girls were either a secretary, a housewife or a prostitute,” Maggie declares seriously, and elegantly sips her glass of bubbly with her pinky up in the air.

  My cheeks hurt from giggling, but I’ve no idea where this one is going and I just can’t stop laughing at her.

  “Oh geez, here we go,” Marty squirms further into his seat.

  “And frankly, looking back, I can’t see the difference between any of them,” Maggie shrugs and nudges me with her elbow.

  His mum snorts with laughter and the tears are streaming down my face as I try to stop giggling. Just as well that I’ve next to no make-up on, it must be all gone by now. Marty appears to have gone into denial and has flagged a waitress down and ordered himself a beer.

  “You can’t say things like that!” I lay my hand on Maggie’s arm and she gently pats her aged, paper-like hand on it.

  “’Course I can,” she says. “I’m eighty five, it’s changed days since I was a popper.”

  Deb and Marty failed to inform me that Maggie was quite a bit older, and an absolute hoot to the root. I’ve never met anyone quite like her in my life, and I’m not sure I’ll ever meet another.

  “So the thing is, you young ones should take life as it comes, go with the flow, test the water and enjoy yourself, if you catch my drift. You wouldn’t buy a car without test driving it first, would you?” she leans over and pats Marty on the knee and he visibly cringes. “In my day, you had to be married before any of that hanky panky, so I married the first man to show me any sort of affection and you know what? Do you know how long we were married for?”

  I shake my head eagerly awaiting her to tell me more.

  “Three months,” she nods and sips her
drink thoughtfully.

  “What? Why?” I ask, feeling a sudden sadness for her. I thought she was going to say about fifty years, not a measly three months.

  “Och, I’m not sad about it, honey, I’m relieved. He was gay!” She says, shaking her head. “Gay! And he married me as a cover! Oh, my heart at the time was shattered, I’ll tell you, but as I’ve gotten older I can see why he did it. It was illegal you see, in my day. Nowadays, they let people be who they want to be, it’s a much more forgiving society and I think people are happier being themselves. Crying shame, of course, he was a right looker, Rachel,” she pats my arm again. “A right looker, alright. He had these dark chocolate brown coloured eyes, like pools of melted Fry’s chocolate, the delicious one with the cream in the middle, and I couldn’t wait to eat him right up. You know what I mean, right? But that obviously never happened,” she nudges me with her elbow suggestively and I steady my glass trying not to spill all over myself.

  Marty chokes on his beer and we all turn to look at him, “I… think we should go… now.” He coughs noisily but rights himself quickly.

  “Aww, Marty, I’m having a great time with these girls! Stop being such a prude,” I turn and beam over at his mum as I know she is watching me intently and actually seems a bit more serious now.

  “He’s right, Rachel. It’s been great to spend time with you, I think my son has done incredibly well sharing you with us for this long, but before he does himself an injustice off you young things go and have some fun,” Deb smiles and chinks her glass against mine. “I’ll let Maggie look after me for the rest of the afternoon,” she smiles at me wickedly.

  I look at Marty as he stands, wasting no time on zipping up his jacket for going outside again.

  I smile reluctantly, “OK, I guess we better be heading anyway. I really enjoyed myself ladies. Thank you for asking us to join you.”

  They both stand and give me hearty hugs goodbye, like I’ve known them for years, not just for the afternoon.

  “Likewise, my dear. We must do this again, young Rachel. What a doll you are. A little firecracker is just what Marty here needs,” Maggie says, knowing full well he can hear her. “Either that, or a kick up the bum! He ain’t no spring chicken nowadays, you know.”

 

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