Here is an excerpt from Chapter 6 of Have a Nice Weekend. I hope you enjoy.
Three Months Later
Will held the front door open to let Abi go through, and managed to turn left instead of right out of the bank. Every day for as long as he could remember, he had turned right out of the door to make the short walk to the Railway Tavern, a scruffy looking, pre-fab pub where he spent every lunch hour, as well as an hour or two after work. It was dirty, smelled of stale beer and ashtrays, and was always thick with smoke – just the way a pub should be.
But today he turned left. Two doors down from the bank was a baker’s that sold rolls and sandwiches. They had decided to buy some lunch and walk to the park, about five minutes away.
Will ordered first. “I’ll have two tuna rolls, a cheese and onion pasty and a jam doughnut, please.” What he really wanted was a beef sandwich and a sausage roll, but he thought he would try and give the impression that he could eat things other than red meat.
What he hadn’t considered was the quantity. “I’ll just have a cheese salad roll and an apple please,” Abi told the lady who served her. Oh bollocks. Now I really look like a fat bastard, he thought. There’s a great impression to make. Doesn’t need red meat, but eats like an elephant.
It was a lovely sunny day, warm but not too hot. Perfect shirt-sleeve weather. So why were they both wearing jackets? It was only a five minute walk, but by the time they got to the park and found an empty bench to sit on, Will was at the stage where he really needed to sniff his armpits, but couldn’t do it without her noticing. He took off his jacket, and made out he was scratching himself under the arm, and then found he had “an itchy nose”. No, that’s fine. Just a faint smell of deodorant. He held his arms slightly away from his body, in a discreet effort to get some air under his arms. It didn’t really help – it just made the damp patches feel cold.
“Well this is nice,” said Will as he looked out across the grass in front of them, and realised what he had been missing by going to the pub every day. There were girls all around, in various stages of exposing their flesh to the sun (and his gaze). Some had just pulled their skirts above their knees, some had pulled their tops up to just under their bra, and one had even taken her shirt off – he could see underwear!
Well, I know where I’ll be spending my lunch hours in future.
Abi didn’t say anything; she just took her sandwich out of its bag and started to eat.
Great. I’ve bought a mountain of food, and I’ve got to keep the conversation going as well. The last thing she’ll want is me spitting crumbs all over her.
He took a large bite of his first tuna roll, and thought of something to say.
“Where do you live?”
“Alderham.”
“Oh, right.” He knew it by name, but had never been there. It was the kind of village where even the council houses had a double garage and a sweeping driveway.
“Have you lived there long?”
“All my life.”
“Ahh. So you live with your parents?”
“Yes, I do. It beats having to cook my own food and do my own laundry. Although my mum keeps trying to teach me to iron.”
“I moved out recently. Just bought a flat. As you can see, I didn’t learn to iron before I left home.” His shirt, while not creased, was certainly not as crisply ironed as it would have been a few months ago.
Will had finished his first roll, and was debating whether to start the second, or move on to the pasty. He decided to go for the pasty. Not a good idea. The pastry was very flaky, and not only covered his lap, but also fell on the floor, which meant the ever-hungry pigeons who had been circling since they had got there started to move even closer. He took a second bite, and started to break small bits off to feed to them.
Maybe she’ll think I’m a real animal lover.
The conversation drifted along for a few minutes – holidays, music, pubs, night clubs, the bank.
“So, what about a boyfriend?”
“No thanks, I’ve got one already,” she joked.
“Oh, right.” He realised too late that he probably sounded more disappointed than he intended.
“Well, when I say boyfriend, that might be stretching the truth a little. In the three months we’ve been going out, I’ve only seen him on one Saturday night. He spends every weekend racing cars with his dad and his brother.”
“Really? That sounds great. Why don’t you go with them?”
“I could say because I find car racing as exciting as worming the cat, but the truth is he has never asked me. It’s never been brought up as an option.”
Will felt an itch on his cheek. He put his hand up to scratch it, and a large flake of pastry fell onto his lap. Oh shit. How long has that been there? He rubbed his hand around his mouth to make sure it was clear of any debris.
“So, what do you do at weekends?” he asked.
“Go out with my friends, to the pub, a club, or the cinema if we’re feeling cheap. Nothing exciting, really.”
The pigeons were still hanging around. He broke up the remains of his pasty, and threw the pieces as far as he could, much to the annoyance of a couple of groups of people who were sitting on the grass in front of them. It dawned on him, as he watched the birds hop over to get the crumbs, that he had been so engrossed in conversation with Abi, that he had not noticed until that moment that there was a young lady who had her knees bent up in front of her, and he could see she was wearing white knickers. Wow. That is not like me to miss a sight like that.
“How about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No. I’m between relationships at the moment.”
This wasn’t a complete lie. He had had a girlfriend once: Sarah Harris, when they were both five and had just started school. He seemed to remember that they were supposed to have got married when they were older. He definitely remembered her coming round to play, and how she had been the only girl he had ever had a positive response from the statement, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”. It was in the shed at the bottom of his garden.
He figured he probably shouldn’t make the same remark to Abi. Not just yet, anyway.
“So what do you do at weekends?”
He had decided not to eat the other roll, nor the doughnut. Instead, he lit up his third Marlboro of the lunchtime, and replied, “Pretty much the same as you really. Jazz clubs more than night clubs, though. If you fancy it, we’re going up to London Saturday to see Bob Kerr’s Whoopee Band.”
“Who the hell is Bob Kerr?”
“Hard to describe, really, unless you are familiar with the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band.” She looked blank. “They are very funny. You might enjoy it.”
“And who is ‘we’?”
“Three old school friends, Andy, Pete and Keith.”
Shit. I’ve just asked a girl out. Not on a date, as such, and my sad bastard friends are going to be there, but I JUST ASKED A GIRL OUT. Calm down. She hasn’t said yes yet. And even if she does, it’s not a date. It’s just going out with my mates, and her coming along as well. Why would she want to do that? And why would I think she would want to do that? She has her friends. She won’t want to go all the way up to London to watch a comedy jazz band with four sad bastards who can’t get girlfriends. Now she’ll say no, and you’ll have to work with her all afternoon in an awkward atmosphere, because you’ll feel embarrassed, and she’ll think you’re lame.
As happens in these situations, a lot went through his mind in less than a second, because she replied almost immediately, “Yeah, why not. Sounds like fun. Can I bring a friend?”
* * *
The Following Sunday
Will opened his eyes slowly, and turned his head to see the clock radio. 11:37.
Not bad. He’d got home around 4am, and it had taken him a while to get to sleep. His ears had been ringing slightly from the music, and his head had been swimming slightly from the beer, vodka and too many cigarettes.
But most of all, his brain had been spinning from the fact that she had come, as agreed, and he had, as far as he could remember, not made a complete tit of himself.
He had got a mixed reaction from his friends. Keith, who loved all forms of music, so long as it was pretentious, challenging and lasted more than ten minutes per track, felt the intrusion into their Saturday night was rude and unnecessary.
Andy, who didn’t like jazz much, but liked the beer and the atmosphere, was like Will; he had never had a girlfriend, and any chance to talk to someone of the opposite sex that wasn’t forced to converse with him due to the coincidence of working together was a bonus for him.
Pete was the most normal of the four – he had had several girlfriends, and didn’t feel the need to make smutty innuendoes at every opportunity, in the belief that girls would be somehow attracted to the juvenile banter and want to jump into bed, or even do it there and then in the back alley.
Oo, err, up the back passage, eh.
She had even been brave enough to go on her own. Her friend couldn’t make it, but she still came along without her.
After she had sat with him on Monday, Abi spent the rest of the week in different sections of the branch, including a morning with Paul, who tried his best but did not get anywhere. She and Will had spent every lunch time together in the park – he made sure he didn’t buy so much food the rest of the week. Somehow, the thought of going back to the pub Monday lunchtime didn't seem as appealing as it would have in the past. There again, he wasn't sure if he would want to sit in the park on his own; it just wouldn't feel the same without Abi. Maybe after all these years, he might spend a lunchtime in the staff room. It would certainly save him some money.
He lay in bed, trying to understand the situation he had found himself in. He really hadn’t expected to see her last night, but there she was, walking up to the station, to spend an evening with him – voluntarily.
She had completed her week’s training, and on Monday would be back at Head Office. But no matter – she had given him her phone number, with instructions to call her next week. Maybe he’d like to take her out on his own next weekend?
FUCKING HELL, I’VE GOT A GIRLFRIEND.
OK, calm down. You haven’t had a proper date yet, and you don’t even know if that is her real phone number. But there again, she had seemed to really enjoy herself, and she did seem genuine when she said she wanted to see him next weekend. Now then, when should I call? I’d love to call her today, but I don’t want to seem desperate. Tuesday? Or did she say she did something Tuesdays? Fuck, I’d better remember what it is before next weekend. Swimming, aerobics, squash? I’d better just say “How was Tuesday?” and work it out from her answer.
Actually, maybe I should call today, to make sure she got home OK. If I don’t it might look like I don’t care. I’ll call her after I’ve had a shower. It might be too early for her yet.
As far as he was concerned, for the next few minutes at least, until he made that call, he HAD A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND.
* * *
Abi had been up for a couple of hours. She was not one for lying in bed any later than 9 o’clock. Her mum and dad had gone to church as they always did, but since she had turned eighteen she had not been forced to attend anymore.
She’d showered, had some breakfast, and was trying to read the Sunday Times. Her mind wasn’t on it, though. Last night had been great. Will’s friends had been a mixed bunch, but he had been the perfect gentleman, making sure she was OK, but not smothering her. She had never been a big drinker, and after the fourth glass of wine, she’d had to go outside for some fresh air. The mixture of the alcohol and thick cigarette smoke had made her feel quite ill.
She hadn’t told him where she was going, but after five minutes he was outside with her, stroking her back and making sure she was alright. Her past had not been filled with boyfriends, but she’d had a few, and not one of them would have given her a second thought if she’d been ill. They’d have been oblivious, and would have just carried on drinking with their mates. She couldn’t really comment on her current “boyfriend”, because they seldom went out.
At the end of the evening, Will had waited with her for her taxi, to make sure she got home OK. His comments had become increasingly rude over the evening, but nothing threatening, and sometimes quite funny.
Two things had been clear. First, he had not had many girlfriends. The way he and his friends had been talking, it didn’t seem like any of them had vast experience with the opposite sex. Secondly, although he seemed interested, he hadn’t tried anything on. Apart from when he'd had his arm around her shoulder when she was feeling ill, there had been very little physical contact. She had wanted to give him a kiss goodnight, just a peck on the cheek, but he hadn’t offered, and she didn’t want to force the issue, so they had just said goodnight, and he had promised to call her. Somehow, she didn’t have any doubt that he would, although it might take him a while to summon up the courage.
* * *
Three Months Later
Will went into a cold sweat. Oh my God, what should I do now? He had never been in this position before. He had never even thought about the possibility. Sure, he had felt things for her, but he really didn’t think she felt anything for him. They had just been having fun, both with his friends and on their own. He had never asked her why she hadn’t introduced him to any of her friends. She had never offered, and it didn’t come up in conversation. He still saw his other three friends, just not so often, and usually with Abi. They didn’t seem to mind, not even Keith, who had actually smartened himself up when he knew Abi was going out with them.
OK. Time to grow up. After three months, time to make that leap.
He steadied himself, looked her in the eyes, and said truthfully “I love you, too.”
