Part 1 out of today's double update :)
Love,
K. xx
***
"Good evening, Rhys," Jackie greeted the man, and then took a double take. "You called me Jackie."
"Shouldn't I have?" He rubbed the back of his neck with his spade-like hand. "Sorry. I think Vi calls you Jackie, so I started to as well."
He wasn't wrong. Jackie had given this name to Viola Holyoake without thinking, when they'd switched to first names. Stephen and Alexander had called her Jackie it from the start; and the more she thought, the more residents of Fleckney she could recall using it too.
"Jackie is good," she said and grinned. "I reckon it's a Fleckney thing."
"Just like mis-delivered post," Rhys joked with a wink. "Mr. Wigglehorn once again left them in our box by mistake."
Fleckney had a eighty-three-year old postman, who, by Jackie's estimation, lowered the efficiency of mail delivery into negative integers. According to Ulla Svensson's sarcastic remarks, having Mr. Wigglehorn bring one's letters and parcels to a wrong cottage was more of a local attraction than a legitimate utility; and 'served to strengthen the bonds in the community.'
"I was driving through Fields later today," Rhys continued, "so Vi told me to drop them off at your place. I've got them in my car. Just give me a jiffy. You aren't in a rush, are you?"
He looked her over.
"I can wait," she said, blushing, fighting the urge to hide the bouquet behind her back.
"The truck is in Mr. Tate's car park. I was sent for a spot of supper." Rhys waved towards the grocer's. "Will your flowers be alright? It's brass monkey's."
Jackie hadn't even noticed how cold the evening was. She must have been that fired up, all puns intended.
"Yeah, they'll be fine," Jackie said. "I just bought them."
Jackie awkwardly lingered on the pavement. Rhys was back pretty quickly, and he handed her a stack of several envelopes, tied with an elastic.
"I didn't snoop, cross my heart," he joked.
Jackie flipped the top envelope, which had been turned face up; and she stared at the address of the fertility clinic. Those were the results of her ovarian reserve test. She'd already discussed them with her doctor in the clinic; and Viola had received a copy. But of course, Jackie appreciated the GP's consideration.
"Thank you." Jackie tried to stuff the post into her bag; balancing the bouquet.
"Let me help you," Rhys said and took the flowers out of her hands. "These are nice. Special occasion?"
The evening seemed to test Jackie's determination time and time again.
"Yeah, I bought them for Alexander," Jackie said, putting the letters away, and stretching her hands to her bouquet. "Fergusson. I'm going to ask him on a date. We're... dating."
Rhys threw her a sharp glance and passed the flowers back to her. Knowing the man's character, Jackie doubted he'd pry; but his scrutiny was making her jittery.
"At Mrs. Tomlin's, right? What are they called? I like the puffy ones."
A shaky laugh escaped Jackie. "These are dahlias."
He nodded, probably taking a mental note. "And do they smell? Vi still has got the whole scent thing: there are some smells she can't stand since her pregnancy. Plus we still don't know if Archie might have allergies."
"No, nothing in this bouquet has any smell. I specifically asked for no scent."
"Ace." Rhys nodded. "It's been a while since I got Vi any. Thank you for the idea."
He shot her a toothy grin, said his goodbyes, and headed towards his gargantuan black car.
Jackie took a deep breath of crispy air and turned towards the ice cream parlour. It was time to woman up and face the music; and by music she meant a potentially humiliating situation where Alexander wasn't in Sugar Cloud and she'd pop up there with an overpriced heap of flowers - plus hadn't he told her he didn't want to see her until Saturday?
She blew air out through her rounded lips - and marched towards the doors to the ice cream shop.
***
Despite the late hour, the shop had quite a few customers; among whom - just Jackie's luck! - she saw a small group of her pupils. If Jackie wanted to start rumours and announce to everyone in the school, or even in the whole county, that she fancied the ice cream maker; she couldn't have planned a more dramatic declaration. She could feel several pairs of eyes on her as she approached the counter.
A couple of the shop assistants were familiar; Jackie had met them before, when she'd stop by the parlour during her three weeks of the almost-domestic-bliss with Alexander. She didn't think that he'd given his employees any explanation; but after the first time, everyone on the staff knew that she was allowed to the back, to his office, and even to the kitchen. Either way, they definitely knew enough. Alexander and Jackie hadn't been walked on any of the times when they'd 'misbehaved' all over the place; but they hadn't been particularly discreet either. Alexander was fond of picking her up under her arms and plopping her on any desk, table, or counter nearby, for easy access to her lips and neck.
"Good evening, Ms. Burns," one of the staff greeted her.
"Evening," she answered and glanced around. "Is Alexander in today?"
"No, he hasn't been in all day," the young woman answered. "Should I open the door for you?"
Jackie felt acutely nauseous, and started backing away, mumbling, "Well, no, no, it's OK. If he's not in, then I'll just–"
"He's working from home today," the shop assistant called to her. "Not on the floor. So, I can let you to the back."
Jackie had crawfished to the door by then; and she sputtered, 'Ta! It's OK, I'll use the back door!' and bolted outside.
***
Said back door was in the alley, and Jackie had used it many times. She knew exactly where his camera lock would pick up her presence; and she stalled a few steps away.
One thing was to stop by his place of work; step away with him, if he was available; give him flowers as an apology; express her ardent love; and ask him out. Showing up at his place late at night uninvited was a much more stalker-ish move.
Jackie retreated a tad and shook her head. He'd said 'not until Saturday.' That had been a 'no.' She needed to respect it and leave.
"So, what did you decide?" Alexander asked behind her.
Jackie gave out a shriek and spun around. He stood just a few metres away, a bag with several take-away boxes in his hand, his nose buried in a long scarf around his neck. He was seemingly studying the wall above her right shoulder.
"Um..." Jackie's mind thrashed in panic. "Um– Hi."
"Hi. Were you ringing the bell, or you're leaving?" he asked.
"I– I was going to stop by, just for a moment; but they told me you weren't in the shop today. And I sort of walked here on autopilot, but then I remembered that you said you didn't want to see me– I mean, that we were going to meet up on Saturday," she corrected herself. "So, I assumed you were busy, and– So yeah, I wasn't– wasn't going to ring the bell, but not because I didn't want to see you. I was just being considerate." Her mumbling died out, and she groaned. "I feel properly stupid now."
She peeked, just in time to see him give out a long mournful sigh.
"You better come up," he said, walked by her, and opened the door.
"I really don't have to, if you're–" Jackie stumbled over her pathetic bleating. "–busy. Or if you didn't want to–"
He'd already disappeared up the stairs, and she had nothing to do but to drag herself after him.
His sitting room and the cooking area were consolidated in a large open space; so, while Jackie indecisively tarried near his charcoal modular, she could see him wash his hands in the kitchenette sink.
"How much time do you have?" he asked.
Jackie threw him a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"You're going somewhere." He pointed at the flowers. He still hadn't met her eyes. "And you said that you wanted to 'stop by just for a moment," he reminded her. His tone was as flat as ever. "If you have time, we can share the food. There's enough."
"But I wasn't going–"
Jackie stopped herself. The whole evening - not just this conversation - had been one big mess. She just needed to put one foot in front of the other, as they say.
"I'd love some food, thank you," she said and put the bouquet on his counter. "I'll wash my hands."
When she was back from the bathroom, he was standing near the table, his arms passively hanging along his torso.
"I'm sorry I just sprung this visit on you," Jackie started, after they ate the first few bites of Willy's fish and chips. "I haven't thought it through. And you did tell me that you wouldn't be able to meet up with me before Saturday."
"It's OK," he answered levelly and picked up another piece of haddock from the box.
"Right... Well, good, thank you for understanding."
Jackie waited until he finished the piece and stretched his hand to the next one; hoping he'd be in a more generous mood once he had more deep-fried goodness in him.
"I wasn't going anywhere," Jackie started carefully. "What I mean to say, here was the only place I was going to– visit tonight. So I've got plenty of time. But also I can leave any time you want. If you want me to. Whenever you want me to. Need me to–"
"What's with the flowers then?" he asked.
"They are for you."
That was when his face flew up - and their gazes met for the first time in the evening. Just as always, it was hard to read any emotion in his dark irises; but the direct contact still made her skin - most noticeably, on her neck and the cleavage - flush.
"You bought me a bouquet before," she said. "Which was lovely. So, I decided to return the gesture. I thought I owed you an apology," Jackie watched his face, but no reaction followed. "So I was going to stop by, to say that I was sorry; and then, if you forgave me, I was planning to give you the flowers and ask you out on a date. And obviously, only if you had time and wanted to talk to me." She nervously tugged at the collar of her jumper. "Instead, I barged in, and I'm now eating your food. Tonight has been a rollercoaster, if I'm honest."
He wiped his hands and his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair. Him avoiding her eyes had been unsetting; but his intense direct stare was no better. His beard had once again grown out in the last few days. She could clearly imagine how thick and coarse it would feel if she ran her palms over it. Jackie poked a chip on her plate, to avoid leering at him.
"Thank you for the flowers," he deadpanned.
"Were you angry with me because I was indecisive about Stephen and Eddie?" she whispered.
"I am angry," he answered pointedly.
"You have every right to!" she cut in.
"–but not with you," he said at the same time.
They both were silent, peering at each other; and then she dropped her eyes down to her plate again.
"You go first," she whispered.