Page 28 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

It was a relief to busy himself with the teapot and mugs while his heart hammered and he tamed the expression of joy that was being reflected back at him by the kitchen window.

“It’s her birthday next month. You should do something special.”

“Right.” He paused. “What should I get her?”

“I can’t tell you. It has to be something that could only come from you.”

Stuart frowned. “You mean not chocolates and not flowers.”

“Exactly. Anybody can buy those. You need something much more personal.”

Oh dear. How good at original thinking are you, bro?

They drank tea and got sticky fingers from the moist lemon drizzle. A frown developed on Lillian’s face. “I should buy something too. But the money’s in the computer.”

“In the computer?”

“Instead of a bank book. Jayne put it in the computer. It’s only thin.” Lillian made a gap between her thumb and forefinger to illustrate the depth of a laptop. “I’m not rich but I don’t know how it all fits in there. Would it be one-hundred-pound notes?”

It took an act of will to control the curve of his lips.

“Can you get it out for me?”

“I can’t do that but I can ask Jayne and then take you shopping.”

“Don’t say it’s for her birthday!”

“No. That will be our secret.”

Lillian left smiling and Stuart panicked about what to buy for Jayne. It took nerve to walk into any sort of ladies’ shop and to buy online he needed to know exactly what he wanted. And the size. And decent presents cost decent money.

Originality is key, bro. Get her something no one else will think of.

“Perhaps Florence will help. She must know what women like.”

No. This has to be all your own work. An idea will come to you if you let your subconscious do the work.

To busy his conscious mind, Stuart found his old OS maps of the area and started planning his first route as a ride leader. He’d be leading the slowest group and had been given the name of the café at which all the groups would converge. The route there and back was up to him. It was still months away but every time he thought of taking charge, he got a rush of nerves. It felt like a rite of passage he had to go through in order to properly belong. Thorough preparation was the only way to reduce his anxiety. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail. He’d learned that lesson in front of thirty fifteen-year-olds who’d had no interest in learning geography.

As he studied the network of lanes and contours, his worry over the birthday present subsided and he was left with only positive thoughts about the previous evening and the future.

Florence called him from the station in the afternoon to ask for a lift home. It was drizzling and murky, but Stuart whistled as he loaded her suitcase into the boot and she settled beside him. His mind was luxuriating in the memories of the evening before. It was like having his own internal sun that made the raindrops sparkle and the traffic jam became precious extra time to dwell on his good fortune.

“Have you had a personality transplant while I’ve been away?”

“What?” Stuart flashed his lights and let a couple of cars into the queue in front of him.

“Somebody’s extracted all your boring old fart juices and replaced them with an overdose of the joys of spring.”

“I’m just feeling happy.”

“Jayne?”

“Yes, Jayne.” There was no point in trying to hide it. He wanted the whole world to be happy with him.

“I like it when I’m right. The love of a good woman always increases a man’s confidence. Have you . . . you know, yet?”

“We’ve only had three dates. I’m not a dirty old man.” Stuart kept silent about his nerves in that area. The last time he and Jayne had had a physical relationship was as fumbling teenagers. Since then she’d had a lifetime of sex with one of the studs of the sixth form. Stuart had had virtually none. He didn’t count the Dutch girl in Paris.

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