Nuance
The table was littered with glasses and a few beer bottles. A half empty bag of nuts lay on its side with nuts spilling onto the tabletop. John had told me to wait while he went to the toilet. The pub was emptying and a chill fell on the room as the body heat left. There was an open fire but it was just displaying glowing embers. A guard would be put over the front when the pub closed and some poor soul would empty the ashes out in the morning.
John came back into the lounge and picked up his knapsack off the floor by our table.
“Suppose we better move out,” he said as the pub front door banged shut. A cold breeze had blown in when the door was opened and I knew that winter was just round the corner.
Outside the pub was empty of cars and John and I made our way towards the car park gates. The wind was beginning to strengthen and I wrapped my scarf tightly round my neck.
“Brrrrrrrr!” John hissed as he did up the buttons on his coat. “Bloody baltic tonight.”
The walk back to the flat sobered us up and I was beginning to feel a bit tired as we approached our door. A note was stuck on the outside. I reached over and pulling it off, moved to below one of the street lamps to read it.
“Tomorrow, remember the cakes!!” read the note. It was from Lucy.
Typical isn’t it,” said John. “Did she think we would forget?”
We looked at one another, laughed and said together:
“We did!!”
*
I rose early the next morning. As I went through to the bathroom I filled the kettle and switched it on. The water from the tap took an age to run hot and the kettle had boiled and switched off by the time I had finished washing and cleaning my teeth.
“John!” I shouted as I passed his bedroom door. “Come on you lazy sod. Get up!”
I returned to my bedroom and dressed. It had to be lots of layers today. The bedroom window was covered with ‘frost ferns’ and I could see my breath. I tied the laces on my boots before going back through to the kitchen.
I toasted some bread and made my coffee but John did not appear, so, I knocked on his door and pushed the door open.
He wasn’t there and his bed had not been slept in or else he had got up early and made it before going out. John was untidy by nature and preferred just to leave the sheets and blankets folded down to ‘air’ the bed. Much healthier he said.
I ate my breakfast and wondered why John had not even left a note for me. We had planned to buy some cakes for Lucy’s stall at the local Church’s Market Stalls. I wondered if he had got up early to help her set the stall up. John fancied Lucy like mad. Perhaps he had thought ‘two’s company, three’s a crowd’.
By the time I arrived with a bag of cakes, the coffee morning was in full swing. The vicar, a Mr. Walter Whyte, was beaming over the gathered throng. There were children running around chasing each other, groups of people chatting and customers buying things from the brightly coloured stalls.
Lucy’s was the Cake and Candy stall. There were cakes of all sizes and colours on display. As I handed my bag of cakes over, I looked about for John, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.
“Lucy,” I said leaning over the stall front. “Have you seen John?”
“Just a minute, Dave,” replied Lucy as she handed a bag of sweets to a little girl. The child fumbled with her purse eventually pulling some coins out and presenting them to Lucy.
The air was full of voices, music and laughter. The sun was shining down from an azure sky with puffy white clouds. A perfect autumn day, but I knew that as soon as the sun went down, it would get cold.
“No Dave, I don’t know where John is,” Lucy said. “I thought he was coming with you.”
“Ah, Mr Brailey,” a voice came from behind me and upon turning I saw it was Rev. Whyte. “Not had a go on our Hoop-la yet?”
*
The morning passed quickly but there was no sign of my friend. The crowds thinned and soon some of the stall holders were taking down the stalls. I helped Lucy to pack up and as she handed out the remaining cakes to the other church members I began to dismantle her stall.
“Come on, Dave,” said Lucy. “Let me buy you a coffee.”
The tea/ coffee tent was half full when we arrived and the hot drink was welcome as the day had turned cold, a sure sign that the rain was on the way.
“Have you got holidays booked for this year? Lucy asked as she sipped her drink. “I fancy somewhere hot……..”
The rest was lost on me as my mind had switched to trying to puzzle out where John had gone. He hadn’t rung and of course, his bed hadn’t been slept in.
“Dave? Dave, are you listening to me?” Laura laughed. “You look as if you’re half asleep.”
“Sorry Laura, I can’t figure out where John has gone to. My brain is elsewhere!” I finished my coffee and stood up. “I think I will go on down to Caroline’s and see if he’s there. See you later.”
Caroline Carter was John’s on and off girlfriend. She was well off, attractive and – a bitch! I really could not see what John saw in her. The number of times that she had arranged to meet John and then let him down was legendary, but John just kept coming back for more.
The problem was that John was a really nice guy and just couldn’t see any bad in anyone. One of Nature’s abused.
I arrived at Caroline’s house. It was a Georgian building which had been renovated and had a conservatory attached to it. I had heard that no expense had been spared with the interior as well with designer furniture and wall hangings.
I rang the bell and waited. Eventually I heard footsteps approaching and the door swung open. Caroline stood there with a strange look on her face.
“Hi Caroline, I came by to see if John was here……” The strange look was replaced by something more scary.
“Haven’t you heard?” she asked.
*
John had arrived at Caroline’s the previous evening.
They had a very ‘easy’ relationship, he dropped in when he was in the neighbourhood; if she was in, she was in and if it happened that she was out, he came back later. This time though Caroline had been in, but had not been alone.
His name was Gerard, a veritable mountain of a man and with an equivalent intellect. A man of few words and even less manners, but Caroline had been ‘knocked over’ by him. They had met a the ‘Sobriquet’ a night club of ill repute located in the lower town. He had spilled her drink and with an ostentatious flourish with a wad of fifty pound notes and a “I’ve nothing smaller” ( Yeh, right……!) he generously replaced her gin and tonic.
John sat in Caroline’s lounge feeling a lot like a ‘fifth wheel’ while Caroline fawned round Gerard, who sat like a Buddha and smoked black Russian cigarettes.
Eventually in frustration, he had followed Caroline into the kitchen while she was making tea and had confronted her. John had asked if his friendship meant anything to her, considering she had started seeing other people.
“He began to shake me, Dave,” she whined. “He wanted to know if it was the end of our relationship.”
The inquisition came to a sudden end, when, upon hearing Caroline’s entreaties, Gerard had decided to intervene. He had grabbed John, dragged him across the lounge and unceremoniously had thrown him out and slammed the door shut.
John had begun ringing Caroline’s doorbell and banging on the door until Gerard had opened it and swinging a meaty fist had knocked John onto the floor. Caroline had stood behind her champion, ineffectively trying to stop the mayhem.
“I told John that he had better leave as I was with Gerard now,” said Caroline looking furtively at the floor. “He had blood all over his face and I felt really sorry for him as he left.”
By all accounts John had staggered out from Caroline’s house and was witnessed lurching out into the road where he was hit by at least two cars. An ambulance had been called but all they were able to do was confirm that he was dead.
I felt sickened. My best friend and I hadn’t been there for him.
“Where is this Gerard?” I asked angrily. “There was no need for him to hit John; he wouldn’t have hurt a fly!”
“He’s not here just now,” she said. “He’s gone home to his flat. I’m not expecting him back before the weekend.”
It was a wet and miserable on the day of John’s funeral. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds and a steady rain fell wetting the mourners as they stood around the open grave. The minister intoned a prayer before he signalled for John to be lowered into the ground. I stood with the other pallbearers and released my denoted cord which ran like water over my palms as my friend began his eternal sleep.
I stood silently in front of John’s grave. The rain rolled down my coat soaking me. A thin mist hung about the burying ground giving it and everything around a surrealistic atmosphere. The wind was soughing round the trees and adding its own touch of melancholia.
“Hi Dave,” came a voice from behind me.
I turned and there stood Caroline, dressed in black from head to toe. She even wore a small hat sporting a veil which draped over her eyes.
She shivered slightly as I planted a kiss on her cheek.
“I really miss him you know,” she whispered. “I was just annoyed with his complacency. He never committed himself. He was always so airy fairy.”
“I think he loved you in his own way,” I retorted, a little abruptly. “He just thought of everyone but himself …..and suffered for it in the end.”
The gravediggers, two elderly men arrived and stood around impatiently, waiting for us to leave. To get the job done. The end of a life. Let’s just shove it under the carpet shall we? I thought angrily.
“How have you been?” Caroline asked tentatively. “I heard that you had got a new job.”
“Yes, it is in one of the banks in London
“Dave, we mustn’t part enemies,” she said. “John was important to both of us.”
“Then why did you treat him so badly,” I blurted out. “I can’t imagine how he must have felt when he left your house. Betrayed; let down by you.”
“Oh don’t, please Dave,” she was crying now and although I felt a heel, I knew it had to be said.
“Why did you bring this Gerard into the scene? Was it to punish John?”
“No of course not. It was just that Gerard was so…..manly, I just fell for him.”
I reached over and took her arm. She gave a slight wince as I touched her sleeve.
“What’s wrong Caroline?” I asked, as a gust of wind lifted the edge of her veil displaying a multicoloured black eye.
“Did he do this? Did he hit you?” I shouted
“No, of course not,” she mumbled, pulling the erring bit of material back over her eyes. “I tripped and bumped into the door.”
“Excuse me sir, madam,” came a voice from behind us. I turned and saw that it was one of the gravediggers. “It’s just that we need to get finished with filling in the grave.”
“Sorry…..” I muttered, stepping away. Caroline had turned and was walking slowly off. The end of an era, I thought as I caught up with her and we walked together towards the gates.
I was sent to visit some of the bank’s branches in the outlaying districts and did not return home for a few months. The year was gradually moving towards autumn and the nights were often chilly. I was owed some weeks’ holiday and I decided to take the time off to tidy the garden and do various chores before King Winter swept in.
One evening I called up one of my lady friends and asked her out for a meal at a local bistro.
Hazel was one of my colleagues from the bank whom I had befriended after obtaining the new post. We had similar interests and enjoyed each others company.
“Hi Hazel,” I said over the phone. “How about I take you out for a meal tonight at the ‘Almond Blossom’?”
She readily agreed and we decided to meet outside of the restaurant at eight o’clock that evening. I rang the ‘Almond Blossom’ and made a reservation for the time agreed.
The lighting in the restaurant was subdued and lit candles sat on the tables giving a restful ambience to the area. A few of the other tables were occupied and waiters moved gracefully between the kitchen and the patrons, carrying trays of sweet smelling dishes.
“You’re looking tired tonight, Dave,” said Hazel with a smile. “You’ll need another holiday to get over your holiday!”
I had been overdoing it with the garden. It was just that I had left a lot of jobs pending and now they had all come back to roost!
“Nah, I’ll be ok. It’s all the good fresh air that I’m getting in my lungs that’s to blame…….” I replied but was cut off when the door of the restaurant was thrown open and banged into the counter.
There stood Gerard holding a worried looking Caroline by the arm.
“You got any free tables?” grunted Gerard at one of the waiters.
“Yes sir,” the man said. “Please come in.”
Gerard half dragged Caroline to a table at the far side of the room. She looked unhappy and I could see the remnant of her black eye was still visible. She sunk into a chair and watched as Gerard ordered a drink for her.
“Someone you know?” asked Hazel tentatively.
“What? Oh yes, she was my best friend’s girlfriend,” I replied.
“Was…..?” Hazel said questioningly.
“He died,” I said simply. A silence hung between us. The evening was heading for ruin. I could feel it in my bones.
“No you stupid bastard!” boomed Gerard’s voice from across the room. “I want my steak blue, do you understand? Blue!” The waiter scuttled of with a plate of rejected steak.
“Dave,” said Hazel trying to get my attention. “Do you want to forget about this evening? I can easy get a cab home.”
“No,” I began to say just at the time I heard Caroline cry out and put her hand to her face. She jumped up from her chair and ran across the restaurant with Gerard in pursuit.
“No bitch runs out on me!” he screamed as he shoved chairs out of his way. He was behaving like a bull in a china shop, upsetting the other patrons with his shouts and bad behaviour.
I waited until he was a table away from me and I kicked a chair into his path.
To describe Gerard’s flight as a perfect arc would be to imagine a perfectly executed ballet move, his was more of a ‘cannonball in flight’. He crashed into the wall and sank ignominiously out of sight behind a vacant table. A hush fell over the restaurant as everyone awaited Gerard’s wrath, but it was not forthcoming. The man was out cold. A dozen people reached for their mobiles to ring for an ambulance and one winner got through and gave the details.
“I saw you kick that chair in front of him,” said Hazel accusingly. “What did you do that for?”
“I couldn’t let a bully hurt a defenceless woman,” I said too quickly.
“You couldn’t let a bully hurt that defenceless woman,” she corrected.
“Look Hazel, I’m sorry if this has ruined our evening, but I do feel a slight moral responsibility for Caroline,” I said covering her hand with mine.
The rest of the evening went down hill from there. The ambulance arrived and Gerard was placed on a stretcher and carried out. I heard the phrase ‘slight concussion’ used, so I felt slightly less guilty. None of the other patrons had seen my shifty shuffle with the chair, so an hour later we left without any further ado. Hazel did not say much.
I dropped Hazel at her house and after arranging a trip to the cinema for the following week, we kissed and I drove off. The nonsense in the restaurant had annoyed me and my head was buzzing. I was glad I had not seriously injured Gerard but the brute needed to be taught a lesson.
The light was on in Caroline’s bedroom when I arrived at her door. I sat in the car for a while undecided as how to proceed. Finally I decided that I would just ascertain that she was alright and then come away.
I rang the doorbell and waited patiently. I could hear a door opening , then closing and footsteps approaching the door.
“Oh Dave, it’s you,” Caroline said as she saw who stood on her doorstep. “Won’t you come in?”
“No, Caroline,” I replied. “It’s late and I have an early start in the morning. I only called to see if you were OK. I saw you in the ‘Almond Blossom’ tonight and I wanted to make sure you got home alright.”
Caroline lowered her head slightly. “I wish you hadn’t seen that, Dave. Gerard was uptight and it was my fault that he lost his temper.”
“Caroline the man is a brute. What can you possibly see in him?”
“Dave, it is my business whom I see, not yours. Gerard is a positive person not like….,” she started to say.
“John.” I finished for her.
I turned from the door and began to walk to my car. There was a slight drizzle and the wind was rising. I unlocked my car door and was about to get in when I heard Caroline shout:
“I love Gerard, Dave. He is more of a man than either you or John ever was!” The door slammed as if to punctuate the cry.
I had to go off on a business trip overseas, but each time my head hit the pillow, I was beset with images of her and that brute. Caroline deserved better, she had had better when she and John were together but his indecisiveness had put her off him.
One night in the Bangkok Hilton where I had been staying, I had just put my bedside light out. It had been a particularly hard day with several meetings and demonstrations of the equipment my company sold, when the phone by my bed rang. I switched on the light and grabbing the receiver grunted a hello into the mouthpiece.
For a second I thought there was no one on the other end of the line. I could hear what sounded like a wind blowing and the inevitable sound of the sea, like heard in a seashell.
“Dave,” a little voice croaked. “Dave, it’s me.”
“Caroline? Is that you?” I asked. “The line’s not very good. Are you OK?”
“He dumped me Dave,” she wailed. “The rotten bastard dumped me.”
“Who?” I asked idiotically. “Gerard?”
“He was so lovely Dave. I loved him and he told me that he loved me.”
“Well……..” I began to remind her of my warning to her, when she
Interrupted.
"I just called to say goodbye, Dave,” she whispered. “Night night.”
“Caroline! Caroline!” I shouted, but it was to a dead line.
By the time I had flown back to the UK Caroline was dead. The doctor said it was a huge overdose of sleeping pills hence her ‘night night’ to me on the phone as she prepared for the endless night.
The funeral was a small gathering. The weather atrocious with high winds and driving rain. We went for a drink and sandwiches to a nearby hostelry called of all things, the Hare and the Tortoise, contrasts again.
The interior was painted a garish yellow but the food and ale were very good.
Gerard never showed up, not that I expected him to, but I suppose it was preferable as I would only have caused a scene and come out worst for wear.
The summer is here now and I have found a little coffee shop where Hazel and I meet frequently. I don’t think we will ever marry, but at least we will eventually move in together.
I often think of Caroline during my reflective periods. She had everything to live for but life had endowed her with a high degree of selectivity in choosing her mates. Unfortunately her chosen partner obviously had his own selectivity and exercised it with grim consequences.
………………………………………+………………………………………….
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