by Nicola May
‘What, you mean you’re going to let the mobile ring twice before answering?’
Katie sniggered.
‘You are a tosser, Katie Cook, and I’m going back to sleep to try and forget any of this has happened.’
Right on cue, Penelope appeared in the doorway. He could sense my mood. He jumped up on the bed and began purring, settled down on my stomach and sweetly put his paw on my cheek.
‘There you go, Ames, at least sex-change cat loves you!’ Katie said putting her head round the door.
I had to smile. ‘Your new landlady is in dire need of a bacon sarnie! So stop your cheek and get down to that kitchen.’
The day continued with me eating my bodyweight in carbohydrates, plus several dozes on the sofa. Just as I was in the middle of a lovely dream about me and Kieran getting married my mobile rang.
‘Heh, babe.’ I really wasn’t in the mood for talking to anyone and sighed out loud. ‘Look, I am really sorry about last night. Let me come over later and make it up to you.’
‘I’m not sure. I’m feeling really tired,’ I said rather snottily and yawned. ‘Last night was really heavy and I could do with a night in.’
Carl, however, was not deterred. ‘I tell you what, Ms Bass-ey,’ he said cosily.
‘I let you down last night and feel so bad. How about I bring some ingredients round to yours and cook you a nice dinner? We can just chill and watch telly if you like.’
That sounded quite a good plan. I softened somewhat. Carl was so sweet. I would give him a chance. After all, I had really enjoyed myself with him at his cousin’s wedding.
‘The show commences at seven,’ I told him.
He laughed. ‘Will Katie need feeding as well?
‘Oh, bless you. No, she’s staying with a friend of hers in Winchester tonight.’
‘Cool. OK. See you then, babe.’
I continued to doze on and off on the sofa until Carl arrived. As I went to the door to let him in I took a peek in the mirror. God, I looked like a bag of fleas. My hair was sticking up all over the place, my eye make-up had smudged and my clothes were all creased.
‘Go in and grab yourself a drink. I need to have a quick wash and brush up.’ I shouted as I ran up the stairs to the bathroom. Penelope smirked at me as I passed him stretched out on the bed. ‘I know, Pen, he’s not The One or I would have made more of an effort,’ I whispered.
When I eventually came downstairs twenty minutes later, there were amazing cooking smells wafting from the kitchen. Carl had found his way round my house with ease. He had even laid the dining-room table, complete with flower (yellow rose, of course) and a candle. I suddenly started to feel all ‘mushy’ towards him. How many other men would make such an effort? He was indeed worthy of his Piscean badge.
‘Dinner is served ma chérie!’
Within one hour or thereabouts, Carl had conjured up the most amazing chicken curry with all the works, fantastic fluffy rice and my favourite Peshwari Nan. It was just what I needed to feed the hangover that was still lingering from the night before like smog in my head.
‘You are such an angel. Thanks so much, Carl.’ I looked straight into his big brown eyes and suddenly thought of False Declan again. Tonight had confirmed my harlot status. There I was, shagging last night, not just any man but a groom hot from the altar. And now here I was, already thinking about shagging yet another man. I was a serial shagger!
‘Amy?’ Carl said softly. ‘About last night…’
A feeling of panic went through me. Maybe Carl had been there after all, watching in the wings. Maybe he had followed us up to the Bridal Suite and realised what I had been doing.
‘I’m really sorry that I let you down. I go to these meetings quite regularly, you see, and we were all chatting at the end and time just ran away and-’
I interrupted. ‘Carl, it really wasn’t a problem. It wasn’t as if I was alone, was it? Anyway, what sort of meeting was it?’
‘It was a church meeting actually.’
‘Oh,’ I replied, almost choking on my chutney. Religion isn’t really my bag. In fact, the mere sight of a ‘Christian fish’ on the back of anyone’s car evokes hysterical laughter in me and Anna. The main reason for this is that a girl I used to work with actually stole one from the church and gave it to her mother as a gift! What a Christian act!
One day we saw a particularly shiny one on a Robin Reliant.
‘I wonder if they ever have a crash with all that godly protection?’ Anna piped up just as the old boy driving the Robin Reliant swerved violently and took off our front bumper. Despite the impact, we were laughing so much that Anna actually did wet herself. From that day forward we agreed to keep a wide berth from ‘Christian fish’ adorned vehicles.
‘I attend church once a week plus weekly meetings,’ Carl went on.
‘Oh right.’ I slurped another glass of wine down in one.
He must have noticed my expression. ‘Do you have a problem with that, Amy?’
‘Problem? God, no, it takes all sorts and if you are a churchgoer then that’s fine by me,’ I lied. I was now feeling a bit drunk and began to see the funny side. ‘Nun or none?’ I shrieked hysterically. ‘Pope or poke?’
But Carl wasn’t laughing. We finished our curry in silence. He then let out a long yawn. Trying to lighten the situation, I moved round the table and gave him a big hug and kiss on the cheek.
‘Thanks so much for cooking for me, it really was the most delicious curry,’ I murmured.
‘I’m really tired, Amy, I’d better go. Work tomorrow and all that.’
My serial shagger status resumed as I began to urge Carl to stay. ‘I promise not to snore. Come on, come up to bed with me.’
‘Amy, I have something else to tell you.’
I put on my best Irish accent. ‘Forgive me Father ’cos I have-’
‘Amy, that really isn’t funny. Just listen for a second. What I have to tell you is that I don’t believe in sex before marriage. Do you think you could cope with that?’
I didn’t even have to think about it. ‘To be honest Carl, I don’t actually think I could.’
Carl looked quite disappointed as he got up from the table. Instead of feeling let down my humour got the better of me.
‘I suppose a blow job before you go is out of the question then?’
I pulled back the front curtain and watched my real life Christian fish walk down the path. I started to laugh out loud. I had been dumped for a few things in my time but never before for God!
– Seventeen –
Pisces: No more rain! The solar set-up is offering you a glimpse of something interesting, which is closer to hand than you think. Keep your feet on the ground. Money doesn’t always bring happiness.
I awoke to the rain beating against my window on this particular Saturday morning. I hadn’t had a very good night as Penelope had jumped on to my bed at 1 a.m. He was soaking wet and had decided to sit on my face to warm himself. I had also heard a lot of noise coming from Jed’s at 2 a.m., which was very rare. Normally, every night on the dot after the ten o’clock news I heard the familiar sound of his slow walk to bed on his creaky stairs.
Maybe he had been taken ill in the night. Or worse still, what if burglars had got in? It was weird that although we barely conversed I felt strangely close to him. I then suddenly felt guilty about the smell of the pond. Jed was a good, unassuming neighbour and all I had to do to make him happy was clean out the pond to make him happy, and yet could never be bothered.
I went downstairs to make myself a cup of tea and give Penelope his breakfast to shut up his squeaking. I looked out at the soaking wet garden and thought I’d make a quick ‘pond dash’ to check on frog progress and stench levels. The sight of me might encourage Jed to come out and do his ‘Morning Gloria’ sequence so I could check if he was OK.
Good – the rain had subsided. Looking particularly gorgeous in pink fluffy dressing – gown, trainers and a pair of grey knickers holding my hair up, I
sped down to the pond.
‘Morning, Gloria!’
Jed wasn’t sounding as gruff as usual. I didn’t glance up, as the ritual didn’t actually involve this.
‘Morning, Jed.’
Laughing to myself firstly as I was strangely thankful that he was OK and secondly that he couldn’t say ‘Looks like rain’ as it was now pissing it down again, I was amazed when Jed continued, ‘Gloria, sorry to catch you unawares in your garden.’
It wasn’t Jed’s voice I was hearing. Standing rigid with shock, I listened while the youthful voice continued. ‘I’m afraid that my grandfather was taken ill and passed away last night and I thought you should know.’
I looked up. Over the fence was a vision of complete six-foot loveliness. He had cropped brown hair and beautiful blue eyes, with Carl ‘to die for’ lashes. Water was now dripping off the lovely lashes down on to his nobly shaped nose to his friendly, kissable mouth.
I was suddenly overcome with emotion. I didn’t know if this was due to the sadness of losing the lovely Jed, the presence of the heart-stopping sex god in front of me or the severe embarrassment of standing in front of said sex god in dressing-gown and pant head-dress. I burst into tears.
‘Oh Gloria, please don’t cry,’ grandson Jed said softly. ‘He was an old man and he just died peacefully in his sleep.’
I then managed to come out with one of my usual nervous blurts. ‘My name’s Amy, not Gloria. I’m very sorry about your grandad. I’m very sorry about the pond as well and I really must go inside because I’m soaking wet and I’m semi-naked. The pond smells and not one frog poked his head up to say hello.’
‘Amy, calm down, it’s OK,’ Grandson Jed soothed.
I managed to compose myself as much as a girl could wearing a pair of grey knickers on her head.
‘Will you let me know when the funeral is?’
‘Of course I will. I’ll be staying here for a couple of weeks to sort everything out. Oh, and Amy?’ He stopped and smiled. ‘Grey suits you, by the way!’
I walked back inside and started to cry again. Without realising it Jed had been a really important part of my life at Layston Gardens and I would genuinely miss him.
‘Wonder what it is Grandson Jed wants to talk to you about?’ Brad enquired in the car on the way back from the funeral a week later. Despite his rudeness about my poor old neighbour, Brad had also become attached to him in a funny sort of way.
‘No idea. Maybe he realises that he’s met the woman of his dreams,’ I joked.
‘Doubt it, babe, especially not with that blonde bombshell by his side.’
‘Thanks a lot, mate! We’ll see later. He said to pop next door when he gets back from the wake.’
For some reason, because of Jed’s unkempt appearance I had imagined his house to be messy and dirty. When Grandson Jed opened the door I was amazed. As with my house, the front door opened straight on to the sitting room. It was full of beautiful antiques, including a magnificent grandfather clock in the corner. Everything was spotless and there were loads of framed photographs adorning every possible surface.
‘Come in, come in.’
I could smell fresh coffee and could hear clattering coming from the kitchen.
‘It was a really lovely service. Are you feeling OK?’ I enquired.
Grandson Jed chose to lighten things up. ‘I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on.’ he teased gently.
I went bright red. He was obviously feeling all right.
‘Coffee, Amy?’ A female voice piped up from the kitchen. Blonde Bombshell, I guessed.
‘Sit down and make yourself comfortable,’ said my host. ‘I’ll just give Jackie a hand.’
There was a side table next to me and on it was a wedding photo in a silver frame. The groom was an instantly recognisable Jed; large pointed nose, thick eyebrows and a mop of black curly hair. I had always known my neighbour with his unruly mop of white hair and miserable face, so it made me smile to see him looking so dashing and happy. I then looked at his wife and my eyes widened. She looked amazingly like me! Same hair, same nose, even the same smile. It was spooky. I picked up the photo to have a closer look, when Jackie walked into the room. Grandson Jed followed, carrying a tray with coffee and biscuits.
Jackie’s long blonde hair was accompanied by blue eyes and she had a figure to die for. Her smart black dress accentuated every curve.
‘Ah, the infamous Amy,’ she greeted me. ‘How good to meet you at last. From how Grandpa used to describe you I thought you’d be taller – slimmer somehow.’ Not only did I detest her from that moment on, I was also intrigued that Grandpa Jed had even brought me up in conversation at all.
‘I guess you take sugar?’ She then said unkindly.
‘Sweet enough, thanks,’ I replied through gritted teeth.
‘Jon, hadn’t you better just get on with the job in hand, then Amy can go home. Maybe she can even consider cleaning out that stinking pond of hers. Poor Grandpa, that vile pond of yours used to annoy him so terribly.’
I wondered what an earth this awful creature was on about. I looked at Jon questioning. ‘Oh, so you do have a name?’ I smiled at him. ‘I’ve been referring to you as Grandson Jed since our first meeting.’
Jon smiled back. He almost seemed flirty – or was I imagining it? Probably imagining it. I guessed any company other than Bitch from Hell was light relief.
‘Yes, sorry – Jonathan McDonald, that’s me, but everyone calls me Jon. I see you were looking at Grandpa’s wedding photo,’ he went on. From what my mum tells me, he used to be a bit of a lad in his youth. He never really got over my gran dying, to be honest. She died of a heart attack at sixty-four and it knocked him for six. From what I remember of her she was full of life and always very kind.’
He then said quietly as if it was almost a secret. ‘Her name was Gloria, you know.’
His beautiful blue eyes suddenly filled with tears and I had an urge to give him a big hug.
‘Yes, yes, now get on with it, Jon,’ Bitch from Hell nagged. ‘Show her what the silly old bugger wrote.’
Jon looked at Bitch from Hell then looked at me – in fact, he stared at me.
‘Grandpa was right,’ he said. ‘It is uncanny. You look very much like my gran when she was young. This explains so much – why he called you Gloria and also the contents of this letter.’ He handed me a yellowed scrumpled bit of paper. ‘Here, read this. We found it yesterday when we were clearing out Grandpa’s things.’
The piece of paper was entitled When my time comes. It was written in a shaky hand and the contents left me speechless.
I have always believed in fate and I always believed in my beautiful Gloria and knew one day I would meet her again. Her silky brown hair and sparkly blue eyes, her fun-loving nature and loud uncontrollable laugh, her ability to make me smile with just the jaunty way she said good morning. Yes, Gloria had come back to me and was living next door!
I read on, completely bemused. To this end, for making me so happy in my last days at Layston Gardens, in giving me the will to live when at times I was a very sad old man, I bequeath the money I have saved in the blue and white teapot under the kitchen sink to this beautiful being. The beautiful being who I was blessed enough to have met and spoken to almost every day since she moved into number 21.
I never wanted to trouble her free, young spirit, therefore please ensure she gets this letter and this gift with all of my thanks. Maybe she can put it towards cleaning out that blooming pond of hers!
I didn’t know how to react. Jed had said nicer things in this letter than any man had said to me in the whole of my whole life. I was deeply touched. He thought that I was his beloved Gloria. I was also completely touched by the honesty of the lovely Jon. He didn’t have to show me this letter. He could have just thrown it away and I would never have known. From the tone of Blonde Bombshell I could imagine that this would have been her suggestion.
Jon then handed me a brown sealed envelope. ‘This is for
you. I’ve checked with the solicitor and it’s OK for you to have it now.’
I had a massive urge to rip open the envelope there and then but didn’t want to look greedy.
‘I am completely overwhelmed,’ I told him sincerely. ‘I had no idea. Jon, I feel like a fraud. I never constructively set out to make your grandfather happy.’
‘Don’t be so silly. If you made Grandpa happy in his last years just by being there, then that’s enough for me. We live in Scotland so have never spent enough time with him. I’m glad you made such an impact on him.’ He smiled again. ‘Just enjoy his gift Amy.’
Just then the grandfather clock chimed six.
‘I’m sorry to rush off but I must go home and get ready,’ I announced.
‘Going somewhere nice?’ enquired Jon.
I blushed again. The mere presence of this man made me wobbly. I didn’t want to answer his question as I didn’t want him to know I had a date – even though he was obviously with this awful woman Jackie and it would make no difference whatsoever.
‘Oh just out for a drink.’
But Jon wouldn’t let up. ‘With someone nice, I hope?’
‘He’s OK,’ I said shyly, not wanting him to think that I had had to resort to a dating agency in my search for Mr Right.
‘Have fun then, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ He winked.
Bombshell grimaced and I hot-footed it back next door to spill the news in Penelope’s furry ears.
I couldn’t wait to open the envelope, which in shaky scrawl on the front just said For Gloria and her cat, No 21. It had obviously been opened and resealed. I bet Jackie just had to know what ‘gift’ I was getting. It certainly didn’t feel like it was bulging with cash. It probably contained a £20 note to buy a pump for the pond and some cat food for Penelope I thought. At that moment, my cat was seated at the far side of the room, assuming the ‘playing the cello’ position as he surreptitiously washed his bits. I was now getting that wonderful feeling I always get when opening my birthday cards.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang, jerking me back into reality. A folded cheque fell to the floor.