REFLECTIONS
A Short Story Collection
by
Kate Loveday
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PUBLISHED BY:
Reflections:
Copyright © 2012 by Kate Loveday
Thank you for respecting the author's work.
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For Isabella and Beatrix
Contents
A Valentine’s Day
Janie’s Triumph
Undercurrent
Small Town Blues
Where’s there a Will…
The Shed
Buster
A Valentine’s Date
Stephen brushed a speck from his jacket and turned this way and that in front of the bathroom mirror, liking what he saw. He smoothed his hand over his freshly washed and dried blond hair and noted how the summer sun had turned his skin golden brown. His blue eyes looked clear and, as he inspected his teeth, he saw they gleamed white. All in all, he was ready for his special Valentine’s date.
He’d first seen Michelle when he went to the coffee bar near the office for his morning cappuccino, three months ago. Normally the office boy brought it up for him, but he’d called in sick that day, so Stephen had to fetch his own coffee. She was new since the last time he’d been there, and her long dark hair, brown eyes and perfect features quite took his breath away.
Deciding to drink his coffee there, instead of taking it back to the office, he gave her his order and took a seat. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she manipulated the hissing machine, filling a cup with the strong black liquid then frothing the milk to top it up.
When she brought it to the table he thanked her with a smile. ‘You’re new here, aren’t you,’ he asked.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she replied as she walked away.
Stephen took to going out for coffee each day, making an excuse that he wanted to stretch his legs. Each day he tried to engage Michelle in conversation and each day she gave him a polite reply and walked away. He became determined to break her reserve. It became a challenge. He meant to get to know her, and more.
One morning, a week or so later, David, from the office next to his, joined him for coffee.
On noticing Stephen’s eyes following the object of his desire, he shook his head. ‘You won’t have much luck there, mate. Others’ve tried. She’s an ice maiden.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Absolutely!’
‘How do you know? Do you know her?’
‘No, but I hear things.’
‘Well, I’m determined. I’ll wear her down.’
David grinned. ‘Want to bet?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ll bet you a hundred dollars you can’t get a date with her by, say, Valentine’s Day.’
‘You’re on.’
From then on Stephen redoubled his efforts and finally Michelle seemed to recognise him as a regular and smiled as she took his order and passed a quick word with him when she brought his coffee to the table. But Valentine’s Day was looming, and he still hadn’t made much progress.
One day he brought her a bunch of violets and asked her if she would come to dinner with him, but she shook her head and hurried away to resume her place behind the counter.
By the 13th of February he was desperate. It looked as if he would lose his bet. He bought the best Valentine’s Day card he could find and made sure it would reach her next morning.
When he came in for his coffee she greeted him with a smile and didn’t rush away as usual when she placed his coffee in front of him. Stephen was sure she guessed the card was from him. This was his last chance.
Michelle, I hope you won’t be offended when I tell you I think you’re wonderful,’ he said.
‘And I’d be honoured if you’d come to dinner with me tonight.’
‘I’m not at all offended,’ she told him. “And yes, I’ll come to dinner with you.’
After making arrangements to meet her at a leading restaurant at 7.30pm, he made his way back to the office, whistling jauntily. He went straight to David’s office and told him of their arrangements. “So it looks like I’ve won the bet, old mate. Where’s my hundred dollars?’
‘You don’t get it until tomorrow, until we know for sure that she’s going through with it.’
‘Okay, I’ll fill you in then on how the night goes. And I’ll have great pleasure in relieving you of one hundred dollars.’
~~~
So here he was now in his bathroom, showered, shaved and dressed, ready for a big night out. He looked at his watch. Six thirty; time to go. Taking one last look in the mirror, he turned and walked to the door and turned the knob to open it. But it didn’t open. It seemed to be stuck. He tugged at the knob but the door wouldn’t budge. He tugged again, harder this time, and the knob came away in his hand. Bloody Hell! Now what was he going to do?
He threw the knob across the room. Useless thing! But how was he to get out. He looked at the window, but remembered he was three storeys up. He looked around for something to prise the door open. He needed a screwdriver or something similar. But he didn’t keep tools in his bathroom!
Opening the cupboard door he spied the dust pan his mother left in the bottom for when she came to do some cleaning for him. He took it out and pushed the corner into the crack between the door and the jamb, but as soon as he put pressure on it, it broke. Cursing, he tossed it aside. He had nothing else he could use. What was he going to do? His watch showed him he’d already lost ten minutes. If he didn’t get out soon he’d be late.
It needed someone on the other side of the door to give it a good shove. But there was no-one else in the flat.
Suddenly he remembered the mobile phone in his pocket. Taking it out, he punched in the numbers for his parents’ phone. They had a key to his flat; his father could come over and open the door from the other side.
‘Hullo, Mum. Look, I haven’t got time to talk but I need Dad to come over right away. The handle’s come off the bathroom door and I’m locked inside.’ Stephen’s eyebrows shot up at his mother’s unexpected response.
It’s not funny. Stop laughing and send Dad over right away. I’m running late for an appointment.’ He frowned. ‘What! He’s gone down to the shop. Oh no! Well, send him over the second he gets back.’ He grimaced as he remembered his father’s habit of taking forever when he went to the shop. Who knows how long he’d be. ‘Yeah. Well thanks Mum. Bye.’
Stephen paced back and forwards in the small space, checking his watch every few minutes, until finally he heard his father call to him through the door. The next minute there was a mighty thud on the door and it flew open and his father staggered into the room.
Rushing out he called a quick ‘thanks Dad’ then raced downstairs and into his car.
By the time he walked into the restaurant he was nearly an hour late. Thank God, there was Michelle sitting at the table waiting for him. But who was that sitting opposite her? As he reached the table he saw it was David.
“Sorry I’m late, Michelle but I was unavoidably detained.’ He turned to David “I’m surprised to see you here, mate, but thanks for looking after Michelle for me till I arrived. I can take over now.” He motioned for David to get up from his chair.
Michelle looked up at him with shining eyes. “Oh, I can’t possibly have dinner with you now, Stephen. I’ve just agreed to marry David.’
Suddenly Stephen noticed the glasses of champagne on the table. He glared at David.
‘But you told me you didn’t know Michelle,’ he accused.
David shrugged. ‘Well, you see, afternoon coffee time’s not nearly so busy as the morning, and we’ve got to know each other real well in the last few weeks.’
&
nbsp; Then he winked at Michelle before turning back to Stephen and saying, ‘When Michelle told me you’d asked her out to dinner for Valentine’s Day, we thought we’d surprise you - together.’
He paused. ‘And by the way, old mate, you owe me a hundred dollars.’
THE END
Janie’s Triumph
Janie was skating mad, and her heroes were Torvill & Dean. Glued to the television, she watched their beautifully choreographed moves over the ice, the twirls and pirouettes, the twists and slides.
As their skates sent up a shower of ice at each sharp turn her mind flashed forward to what would be her own triumph.
Gliding out on to the ice, she was aware that her trim figure in its short blue costume, the tight bodice spangled with sequins, drew every eye. Turning to her partner, a tall, blonde, handsome young man, she took his hand and they skated smoothly across the ice to thunderous applause. Round they twirled, pirouetting, gliding, swooping, and moving in unison.
When they finished their routine they bowed low. The crowd went wild. Surely they would gain first place?
With bated breath, Janie waited to hear the voice over the loudspeaker announcing the result.
‘Janie, turn off that TV. Get off the couch and come and help me with dinner. You can start by setting the table.’
THE END
Undercurrent
Abby spread her towel on the sand at Kurrimine Beach and settled in the shade of a palm tree. The beach was deserted so she undid the lead on Suzie, her silky terrier, and let her run free. Away she went, chasing seagulls at the edge of the water.
Opening her diary, Abby started writing. She was recording the day to day details of her big adventure; driving around Australia in her motor-home. She enjoyed life on the road; the camaraderie of caravan park life and the casual and relaxed atmosphere. If only she had a friend to share it with, it would be perfect! People were friendly, but most people travelled as couples or in groups, so she spent much of her time alone with Suzie.
Pausing in her writing, she looked up to find Suzie’s game had taken her way down the beach; she was now sniffing intently at something on the sand. Probably a dead fish! Dropping the diary, Abby stood up and started to walk along the sand, calling Suzie to come back. But she was too far away to hear. Abby suddenly noticed that circling slowly above the small dog were two very large birds. Sea eagles! One of them could easily pick her up in its cruel claws and carry her away. She called again, louder. The breeze whipped her voice away. She started to run but Suzie was a long way away and the birds were circling lower now, in ever decreasing circles.
Abby stumbled in the sand, picked herself up, her heart pounding and her breath rasping. A terrified howl was torn from her. She was not going to make it in time! The eagles were now only a metre or so above the unsuspecting dog.
All of a sudden a small black and white body hurled itself across the sand towards Suzie, followed by a man, running, waving his arms and shouting. Suzie looked up at their approach and barked, then raced towards the other dog. It all happened in seconds; the eagles lifted up in the air and headed out to sea, while Abby sat down on the sand, trying to calm her racing heart.
When she recovered enough to look at the rescuers she saw Suzie and a fox terrier sniffing each other in welcome, and walking towards her was Harry Brown, whom she had met him with his dog Ollie when they had over-nighted next to each other in the caravan park at Ballina. As he reached her he held out his hands to help her up.
‘That was a close thing,’ he said, pulling her to her feet. ‘It could have turned quite nasty for Suzie. She probably looked like an overgrown rabbit to them.’
‘Thank God you came along.’ Abby’s voice shook. ‘I couldn’t have reached her in time.’
‘Just lucky Ollie and I came down for our walk at the right time.’ He stood smiling down at her and Abby became aware she was gripping his hands. She let go of them and burst into tears. ‘They…they would have carried her away…,’ sob, ‘and…and…’
‘There, there, now.’ He put his arms around her and she rested her head against him, trying to stifle the tears. ‘It’s all over, she’s safe now,’ he soothed.
Abby realised her head rested against a very bare, very manly chest, for Harry was clad in swimming trunks. Whatever would he think of her? Looking up at him, she could see only concern on his face, he gave no sign that he didn’t have women in skimpy bathing suits crying in his arms every day. Feeling foolish, she stepped back, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her fingers.
‘I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to go to pieces like that.’
Harry smiled. ‘That’s okay. Sorry I don’t have a handkerchief to offer you to dry the tears. That’s what always happens in books.’
Abby laughed, her embarrassment overcome. ‘Life rarely turns out like it does in books, I’ve found. Anyway, thank you so much for what you did. You saved Suzie’s life.’
‘Well, Ollie was the fastest on his feet; he’s probably the one who saved the day.’
Abby looked down at the two dogs, now happily jostling and pushing one another. ‘Then I’ll have to see if I can find a bone in the fridge to thank Ollie.’
‘I think he’s just happy to have found a friend. Not so easy to do when you travel alone like we do.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Do you find that too?’
Abby’s heart fluttered. ‘Well…yes. I know what you mean.’
‘Ollie and I just arrived a short time ago. We’re staying in the caravan park closest to the beach. I thought I saw your motor-home in there as I drove in. Am I right?’
She was surprised he recognised it from all the other motor-homes around. ‘Yes, you are.’
‘Then perhaps you’ll join me for a cup of coffee at the café? Maybe it’ll help to settle the nerves.’
‘Thank you, I’d love to. I’ll just go and collect my things.’
~~~
Harry stood watching as Abby walked back along the beach with Suzie trotting behind. Abby looked as good from the back as she did from the front; she had a nice little bum.
But it was Suzie who made him smile with satisfaction.
Yes, she would make an ideal specimen for medical research; his friend in the laboratory was crying out for more dogs. He paid handsomely, no questions asked. If he could lure Suzie away from Abby it would make four he had been able to send him this month; it made a nice supplement to his income, one that helped to keep him on the road.
THE END
Small Town Blues
‘I wonder what your new friends like to eat,’ Gail asked her husband as she peered into the refrigerator. ‘Do you think they’re likely to prefer steak or chicken kebabs?’
‘I have no idea,’ Ray replied. ‘They’re not really friends. I only met Bob at the Rotary meeting and I thought it’d be neighbourly to ask him and his wife to a barbecue, as they don’t know anyone in town.’
‘Have you met his wife?’
‘No, but I know her name’s Jenny.’
‘You said they haven’t been in town long. Do you know where they come from?’
‘Yes. Bob told me they’ve moved up here from Sydney.’
‘Oh! From Sydney? I wonder what brought them to a small town like this?’
Bob shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Oh. Well, if they come from the city they probably prefer steak.’
As Gail busied herself in the kitchen she wondered what they would be like. Newcomers to the district were more common these days, with all the tree-changers moving up from Sydney. Well, today would be a good chance to get to know them.
By midday all was ready. Ray poured them both a glass of wine and they were standing on the terrace at the back of the house, drinks in hand, when their guests arrived. They went to meet them with welcoming smiles.
‘Glad you could make it,’ Ray boomed, shaking Bob’s hand.
‘We’ve been looking forward to coming,’ Bob replied, then turned to his companion, ‘
and this is my wife Jenny.’
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Gail told her.
‘It’s good of you to ask us,’ Jenny said. ‘We don’t really know anyone here yet.’
Gail tried to put her at ease. ‘It’s always hard settling in to a new place, isn’t it? You’re from Sydney, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, we are. When Bob was offered a transfer to Newcastle we thought it was a good opportunity to get out of the rat race. And Newcastle is so big now we decided to look for somewhere smaller and friendlier to live. So here we are.’
‘Good to have you. Now come and sit over here with me while Ray gets you a drink. It’s a bit much meeting new people, I know, but I’m sure you’ll find everyone’s friendly in this town.’
The men moved across to stand by the barbecue and Gail and Jenny seated themselves by the table, which Gail had already set for lunch. Their conversation was general for a while, and then turned to current television programmes.
‘Do you ever watch the ‘Antiques Roadshow’?’ Gail asked.
Jenny’s face lit up. ‘Oh yes, I love it! I never miss it when I’m home. I collect antiques, so I find it interesting seeing all the different items that people bring along. I’ve heard it might be coming to Sydney soon. If it does I’ll go down and have a look.’
Gail was excited. ‘Oh, if it does come, I’d love to go. I’d take my great-grand mother’s brooch for them to have a look at. I’ve always thought it might be worth a bit. It must be fairly old.’
Jenny seemed impressed. ‘Your great-grandmother’s brooch. Oh, I wonder if it’s nineteenth century.’
‘Would you know?’
‘Well, I’m not an expert, but I might.’
‘Would you like to see it?’ Gail jumped up. “I’ll go and get it.’
Rummaging through her jewellery box, she found the brooch beneath a tangled pile of beads. It was gold filigree, heart-shaped and set with small turquoise stones around the edges and a large turquoise in the centre. Then she went into the lounge room and took a photo from amongst several on a table. Marching outside she placed both items in front of Jenny.
‘What do you think? I’ve always thought the brooch must be at least a hundred years old. Here’s a photo of my great-grandmother nursing my grandmother when she was two, and she was wearing it then, pinned to her dress. It shows up quite plainly. See?’