Page 14 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

“New car?” Jayne pointed a remote at her own car, a six-year-old Mini with immaculate paintwork, and then opened the driver’s door.

She’d caught him by surprise and he had no conversation prepared. Suddenly he was a teenager again. He smiled and tried to look casually indifferent. Then he realised she was waiting for an answer.

“No.” Stuart hesitated. There was going to be no way of keeping Florence a secret. “It belongs to my new lodger.”

“Oh.”

There was an awkward silence that Stuart felt he should fill. “It seemed a waste having empty rooms when other people have nothing.”

He didn’t want to admit he needed the money, although Lillian had probably told her daughter everything. He wished Jayne would get in her own car. Her expression was wavering from friendly to blank and back again. He thought about her phone number lodged under the change jar waiting for him to feel confident enough to rival Audi man. That time was unlikely to come.

“You’re making money out of the house while you still can. A good move — that’s one in the eye for your ungrateful brothers.” She smiled broadly at him.

Suddenly everything was all right again and she was on his side. A sudden rush of kinship between them made him consider asking her out right now, face to face. Dinner. Tomorrow. At the Italian down the road. Nice and convenient so they could walk and both have a glass of wine. Or two. The memories of meandering home together as teenagers flashed through his mind. Kissing and whispering in the passageway just before they reached their houses. Leaving it until the very last minute to let go of each other, so Jayne could rush up to her front door before her 11 p.m. curfew. His toes curled and his body warmed as he remembered.

“Jayne?” he began.

“Yes?” Her smile was still bright, hopeful. This was his opportunity.

“Hi!” Florence walked between them, right up to the small fence that marked the border between the two properties. “I’m Florence. I just moved in today.”

Jayne made no effort to hide her surprise. Stuart wanted to dematerialise. Florence was still wearing the purple leggings and tight yellow top from the previous day. On her feet she had huge slippers with dogs’ heads on the front. For some reason she’d clamped her artificially blonde hair in place with plastic pink hair-slides that looked as though they belonged to a toddler.

Jayne straightened her black jacket and put a hand on the neckline of her silky blouse. Even though it was Sunday, she looked like a legal secretary.

“I’m Jayne.”

It was the first time that Stuart had seen Jayne looking even a little flustered.

“Pleased to meet you, Jayne.” Florence held out her hand. “Are you and Stuart . . . an item?” Florence inclined her head towards him.

Stuart wished for an earthquake, a bolt of lightning, or even a sudden rainstorm.

Jayne caught his eye. Her conspiratorial expression warmed his cheeks and increased the feeling of connection between them. She spoke slowly. “No. We’re not.”

“Shame — you’d be good together. Anyone could tell that, just by looking at the way you communicate. There’s a sort of body language between you.”

“I have to be off.” Jayne stepped neatly into her car and shut the door.

She gave him a wave and a grin as she pulled off the drive.

Stuart tried nonchalantly to return her smile and hand gesture while struggling to suppress his frustration and anger at Florence.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I only stated the obvious. Can I have the car key, please? I think I left my lady shaver in the boot.”

Back inside, Florence warmed to the topic of Jayne. “It’s obvious you both fancy each other. And you’ve got her phone number safe.” She pointed to the change jar.

The benefits of a lodger were rapidly diminishing. “It’s private,” was all he could manage in his own defence.

“Private or not, don’t let life pass you by. Move in on her.”

I agree with our colourful new friend. We rarely regret what we did do, only what we didn’t.

Chapter Ten

The next morning, Stuart was up before Florence for his early morning call to Mr Rutherford. It was a few minutes before seven when he went out to the car. From the corner of his eye, he caught a movement near the hedge on the far side of Lillian’s garden. He leaned over the fence to get a better look. It was probably a cat choosing its toilet or a fox scavenging for food. The shape was difficult to see in the shadow of the high hedge but as it shuffled backwards onto the lawn, Stuart saw that it was no animal. It was Lillian. In her crouched position she wobbled, lost her balance and then sat down hard on the lawn.

“Lillian!” Stuart hurried down his drive and up the next one.

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