“...well you should just ring first...” she snapped at her lover that night, when he had turned up unannounced, as he preferred.
“I enjoy doing things on impulse, you used to enjoy that too,” he whispered as he kissed the back of her neck.
“Mmmm, yeah well...just ring me...mmm...” she sighed as he led her into the bedroom.
Several months later, at the end of an evening together he’d showered then left Jessica alone, as usual, in a doze in her king-size bed. Unusually she didn’t fall into a deep content sleep whilst listening to the romantic playlist on her i-pod dock, instead the longer she lay there the more agitated she became. Finally she sat up, switched on the main lights and walked to her en-suite shower room. Fifteen minutes later she pulled on an old music festival sweatshirt, grabbed her lap top from the side table and climbed back on her bed. She decisively logged on her laptop, and clicked onto a job search. It might have been because he left the toilet seat up, again, or maybe because he dropped his wet towel on her cream bedroom carpet but something had changed and she was thinking differently about her future.
Just a few work packed weeks later she found herself in a new city for an interview. She sat opposite the large modern desk, watching her interviewer straighten his monogrammed silk shirt cuffs decisively:
“Jessica, we need someone who is available to travel to our overseas developments at short notice, this isn’t a problem is it?” the Head of Marketing had asked, it was obvious from his tone this aspect was non-negotiable.
“I have no family commitments, I can start almost immediately and the travel is a bonus certainly not a problem,” Jessica advised her potential future employer.
As she convinced the interviewer she had also reminded herself that she could do anything she put her mind too.
“Thank you for your excellent presentation, a real eye opener. We’ll be in touch Jessica, before the end of the day. I’ll call you myself...” her prospective employer assured her as he escorted her to the lift at the end of the floor.
She left the building feeling happy and optimistic; following the local signs for the shopping precinct she looked for a coffee shop to wait for the call. She switched her mobile phone back from silent mode and checked missed calls. Her lover had said he’d call; he hadn’t. She wandered through most of the shopping centre checking out the various coffee shop options, but stopped outside a shoe shop that wasn’t the usual generic high street stores. Its window display caught her eye, she was impressed. It was high quality marketing for what she had assumed was just a local store; she did love shoes. Jessica had enjoyed her interview, if she got the job it would be a bonus, so a bit of retail celebration seemed an ideal way to complete her afternoon. As she entered the shop, it occurred to her that her lover always insisted she wear flats when she was with him; she surprised herself by heading straight for the high heels.
Billy didn’t blame his parents for his situation despite being lumbered with his name, after all his twin sister Elly got it a lot worse; she was now Elly Elliott, that still made him laugh! His mum didn’t know when they were born that she would end up falling out of love with their truck driver Dad Frank Harper, and then remarry the teacher Steve Elliott. He didn’t remember any of it, they were only two years old at the time; it made sense to give them their Stepdad’s name he agreed with that but sometimes, just sometimes, he wished his mum could have married someone called Smith.
Generally Billy was quite happy with his lot. He knew his family loved him; he enjoyed school, he had his mates who would fight his corner with him even though most of them were even smaller than he was. They sometimes wanted to fight for his honour a little bit too often, especially when Bradley Hardacre was the opposition, but the thought was there. Billy had just one problem, to him it was a very big one; it tormented him every Saturday, no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t play football. If he had been called Smithy or Hardacre or some other name this wouldn’t have been a problem, but being called Billy Elliott the little boy famed for his accurate footwork and balletic athleticism this did not help in the school bullying stakes.
“Come on Billy, you should have danced round that one!” his best mate Matty laughed.
“Sorry...” Billy couldn’t even try to justify how his feet never did what he asked them to, never.
“Ask your Elly for lessons eh Billy?” Matty helpfully continued.
“Yeah right, as if!” Billy rebuffed, although privately he reluctantly agreed that might be a plan. She did seem to have the knack for sports that he’d missed out on.
Olwen’s first customer had been and gone within the first ten minutes; she had a constant stream of sales all morning. She now watched Jessica as she stood outside gazing in absent-mindedly. She had been rummaging deeply into a huge red handbag and checking her mobile phone, just quickly and surreptitiously, as if she was expecting a call. Olwen liked Jessica’s style, she watched her enter decisively, strong footed, her kitten heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor, presence duly announced with authority and confidence.
“Hello, lovely day!” Olwen called from the back of the shop “Feel free to browse, just let me know if I can help at all” Her soft Northern Irish accent just recognisable, as if she had lived elsewhere and it had become diluted by that travel.
“OK thanks…I love your window...” Jessica replied as she walked past the children’s eye catching display towards the designer heels.
They were gorgeous shoes, she picked up two or three different styles before being drawn to a high silver stiletto; it was reminiscent of a classic but as she turned it round she didn’t recognise the designer.
“Do you have a seven in this one?” She called to Olwen.
Olwen picked up the box from the counter containing the chosen shoe in the required size. Jessica didn’t notice at the time, but later did ponder the mystery of how Olwen managed to have her specific request to hand without doing the usual shoe shop assistant’s routine of ten minutes in the back searching.
“Beautiful aren’t they? They’re by a new designer from Ireland, one to watch I’m sure” Olwen explained as she passed just one to Jessica.
“I love that lettering on the heel JJ they’re my initials. I love that, personalised shoes by default rather than design!” Jessica enthused as she tried them on.
“It’s a lovely detail isn’t it, just for you...” Olwen responded with a tinkly laugh and smile which seemed to illuminate her emerald green eyes.
“I don’t recognise the designer, but I don’t care! I’m holding the thought that they were made for me!” Laughed Jessica, the sound of her own laughter surprised her; it was an unfamiliar feeling and she enjoyed it.
It took just ten minutes from Jessica walking in, to the final click of the credit card machine as the payment went through. Olwen carefully placed the silver shoes in an intricate embossed shoebox, before placing them in an equally aesthetically pleasing hard paper carrier bag with Walk a Mile written on the side.
Jessica congratulated herself as her day just got better and better. As she left the store she glanced into the bag with her beloved silver shoes; at that very moment she very nearly fell flat on her face. She wasn’t quite sure where he came from but a small freckled faced boy had sprung up in her path making her lose her balance. Luckily she managed to remain upright but as she only just held on to her dignity.
Billy was sitting in a burger bar with his Step Dad but he wasn’t really sure why. They had been dispatched to the shops by a rather irate wife and mother:
“Go on, the pair of yer, out from under me feet. Don’t come back without new shoes”
Billy noticed her wink at Steve; it was obviously a blatant plot to get them both out from under her feet whilst she got some me time, as she called it. Billy was told it’s for school shoes, he’d got second hand ones from his mate Matty, they looked fine to him but his mum had said they were disgusting, so off they’d been sent to find new ones. Billy was in no
doubt that they’d be fit for Bradley Hardacre’s usual attention and subsequent disposal. Steve and Billy’s Mum had ideas unbeknown to Billy; they wanted Billy to finally have some half decent footie boots. Billy’s mum had maternal pride and wanted her son to have the best she could afford; however this was tempered by her more realistic private thoughts.
“My son is rubbish at football but I can’t let him know I think that,” she had confided in Steve one evening.
“I’m rubbish at football, even my Mam knows that!” Billy had also confessed to Steve, whilst watching Match of the Day the previous week.
Steve wanted a coffee and Billy was as ever starving; he looked for a table as Steve bought him a cheeseburger and fries:
“No salt thanks...” he heard Steve ask the assistant.
“Oh god Dad...god you’re right embarrassin’...” Billy muttered, he loved salty chips and the school healthy eating plan had affected his family’s diet in a way he didn’t fully appreciate.
Steve and Billy filled up as they chatted about the planned school football team challenge.
“Billy, why don’t you go for it, you never know,” Steve suggested, honestly wishing his step son would have a go at getting on the team.
“I would but...I don’t have boots...anyway I’m rubbish. Everyone knows that,” Billy mumbled
“Why am I not convinced? You know you’d love it,” Steve pressed, Billy looked out of the window he didn’t feel convinced either.
Once they’d finished their fast food, slurped down the fizzy pop and cleared their own table they walked out into the precinct. Billy assumed they’d end up in that huge discount store his mum always picked out but he spotted a small bright window display of a small shoe shop he hadn’t seen before. He turned round to shout to Steve who had been distracted as usual by a bookshop window display. Billy turned back and approached the shoe shop door; a woman in a smart suit came out and almost fell straight over him. He was small. She looked quite distracted, but grinned down at him as she sleekly avoided dropping her huge red bag, and successfully sidestepped Steve who had arrived behind him.
Jessica had waited two hours for her lover to call; he knew she had been for the interview; he knew it was important. He had let her down before but this time was different. As she sat playing with the cord on the shoe bag, it wasn’t quite as dramatic as the proverbial bolt of lightning but Jessica suddenly just knew she would get the job.
“Goodbye! It’s over. Please don’t contact me again” She left the simple message on his voicemail.
Jessica was proud of herself and as an added bonus had her first pair of heels in years, a symbol of her first steps towards her new independent life. As she clicked to disconnect the last call to her lover, her phone buzzed in her hand. She smiled as she pressed the accept call option:
“Hello...yes...hello again...thank you, yes...Definitely, yes I would love to...a pleasure...thanks again...I won’t let you down...bye.” She heard herself accept her dream job. She calmly locked her mobile phone and dropped it in her bag. Then looked up, and almost jumped and kicked her heels; she enthusiastically swung her Walk a Mile carrier bag laughing out loud.
“YES! Bring it on!” She shouted, much to the consternation and amusement of passers-by.
Billy felt a bit out of place in the white interior of the shoe shop, until the owner smiled at him with her bright green eyes and a genuine friendly smile. She didn’t tell him not to touch, or be careful either:
“Enjoy yourself, have a good look round boys...”
“Thanks...er... off you go Billy” Responded Steve slightly flushed at them being called boys. Billy liked Olwen, and he liked her shop, not that he’d admit that to his mates.
“I’ll let you have a walk around...” Olwen offered.
Billy spent time gazing across the shelves; he saw shows his mum would love, and his sister. At first he didn’t think he’d find any shoes, but then Steve held up some football boots.
“Yes Steve, I like ‘em but mam wants me to get school shoes...” Billy replied.
“Go on Billy, just try ‘em on, go on...” Steve coaxed, holding them up like an icon to be admired.
“OK, don’t know why though, I can’t ‘ave ‘em...” Billy reluctantly accepted.
They fitted perfectly, and looked good. Plain black with no obvious logo’s so that met the team requirements, and they’d be less desirable to the Hardacre treatment. He’d spotted the price, maybe he could save up for them.
“Dad, I like ‘em but need to find school shoes...” Billy muttered under his breath.
“Nah! Let’s not bother, we’ll get them! My treat!” Steve’s offer was a bit too generous and Billy found himself blushing.
“You sure Dad? Really?” Billy responded with a fragile smile, as he passed the boot to Steve. Steve took it, and laughed as he spotted WE embossed on the blue lining:
“See Billy, they’re made for you...we have to get them now.”
One week later
Jessica nipped into town to pick up some last minute necessities for her trip. She had spent the week preparing for her new life; she’d sold her car, given notice to the landlord and put some furniture in storage at her mother’s. Her lover had rung every day; she had ignored every call and had now come to the phone shop to change her number, and change her account to one more suitable for travel overseas. She glanced at her watch and saw she had fifteen minutes to kill, so called in for a coffee. The burger bar was busy, but no queue so she approached as a counter:
“Hi! How can I help you today?” Chirped the blond blue eyed man from behind the counter.
She made eye contact him and was pleased to see he was smiling and friendly. She liked that, he looked happy and it rubbed off.
“Thanks, I would love an espresso please,” Jessica made her order with a smile. She was optimistic about her new life and impatient to get started.
“Thank you, anything else...OK! Enjoy your day!” He passed her the drink with a huge smile in return.
As she carried her small paper cup to the table, she saw the next table was full of six young budding footballers; shirts matching, boots and bags strewn around them. She thought one of them looked familiar. Their table was strewn with debris from the various variations on the theme of a burger meal and drinks; they were loud and boisterous, as boys should be. She took her seat and relaxed to drink her last espresso in the UK for sometime; she was happy and felt confident with her life ahead.
“Billy, can’t believe you got picked for the team at last.” One of the boys behind her shouted at his mate, the rest of the young footballers laughed loudly.
She glanced around.
“I know! Must be them new boots eh?” The young spiky ginger haired youngster responded with a punch to the arm of his mate, and the biggest smile she had ever seen.
Further down the precinct Olwen smiled as she locked up and slid the shutters down, business was good; she thought maybe it was time to recruit an apprentice. The young girl who called in asking about a Saturday job really loved the shoes. As she had watched her browsing she noticed how her fingers traced the monograms that others had overlooked; she liked that attention to detail, she thought she might ring her and invite her back for a chat. She could do so much more with a bit of help.
She rattled the shutters to check the lock, dropped the keys into her bag and turned her back on the shop, just for now. Slowly, but purposely walked away in her very high, very shiny, very gorgeous green stilettos towards the coffee shop that stocked her favourite vanilla syrup.
###
References:
Burgess, Melvin: Billy Elliot (Novelisation of the screenplay by Lee Hall). (New York, New York), Scholastic Inc., April 2001
Hall, L (2000) Billy Elliott, screenplay
About the Authors
Steel City Writers
For more information about the Steel City Writers visit their group blog: https://steelcitywriters.wordpress.com
; Christie Adams
Christie recently completed her BA Hons in Literature, and is now building her literary portfolio. She writes short stories and poems as well as flash fiction, whilst working towards her first novel. She is keen to further embrace her dark side, and have the guts to write how she feels despite potential embarrassment caused if folk recognise themselves in her work.
She enjoys her writing, can never read enough and is busily embracing new technology and social media so her grandchildren will ask for help instead of laughing at her inability to work a remote control.
Pete Denton
Pete rekindled his desire to write again after many years in the wilderness. He signed up for a Start Writing Fiction course, which brought his creative juices flowing. He studied and passed the Open University’s Diploma in Creative Writing where he discovered a love for writing screenplays (a dislike for writing poetry) and developed his skills for writing shorter stories and Flash Fiction.
Pete dusted down the last novel he wrote back in 2006 and is working through the 2nd draft of the currently untitled British Crime novel. You can track his progress on his personal blog at https://petedenton.wordpress.com and follow him on Twitter at @1PeteDenton
Craig Hallam
By day, Craig Hallam is a Nurse, but by night he writes works of Speculative Fiction. Tackling short stories since late 2008, his tales have graced the pages of the British Fantasy Society, Misanthrope Press, Pill Hill Press, and Murky Depths.
His debut novel, Greaveburn, a Gothic Steampunk tale, is arriving shortly from Inspired Quill. Watch for it on shelves both virtual and corporeal in Summer 2012.
He hopes to see you hovering above one of his pages in the near future. And that one day he will stop referring to himself in the third person.