Chapter 23
It was another lively Saturday night at the Rose & Crown. Fruit machines buzzed, amber twinkled in the glassware, cheeks shone and the air shook with laughter. Dan and Jeremy were in their usual booth – Dan had got here early to snag it. He wanted to experience their boozer at its best tonight, its swansong as their local.
“I can’t believe this’ll be our last time here,” Jeremy said to him.
“Definitely not our last,” said Dan. “We’ll come back here now and then for old time’s sake.”
“Of course we will,” said Jeremy. “It’s not like it’s disappearing or anything.”
Dan was keeping an eye out for Elaine. It was only just past eight o’clock, and she’d been twenty minutes late when she visited his flat, so he wasn’t unduly worried yet. She definitely knew where the place was if she’d been offered a job here. When he’d invited her to meet them here tonight, he’d forgotten to ask her what happened about that job, and oddly she hadn’t mentioned it either. She was probably distracted, as he was, by that crazy reverse poker game they’d played .
What an imbecile he’d been, forcing her to declare her feelings for him when they barely knew each other, and what a fool for telling her straight out that he loved her. Who does that? The fact that it was the truth was neither here nor there. That wasn’t how the game was played. You were supposed to act cool for at least a month before letting on about your feelings. After nine years with one woman, and virtually no experience before that, he was hopelessly naive. She rescued the situation brilliantly by what she’d said after that, but his cheeks still burned at the memory of his idiocy. He hoped she hadn’t had second thoughts about tonight and decided she didn’t want to go out with a muttonhead who declared his undying love to every passing woman.
“Stop checking your watch,” said Jeremy. “She’s going to show up, don’t worry.”
“I’m not sure about that,” said Dan. “I screwed up this afternoon. Told her I loved her.”
“You didn’t!” laughed Jeremy. “Not even I’m that stupid, not after just two dates.”
“Sometimes, when people are under stress, they don’t think, but that’s the time when they most need to think.”
“Bill Clinton?”
“Yeah.”
“So when exactly did you tell her this? Was it during your private chat, when you both got a bit teary-eyed?”
Dan nodded .
“Then I wouldn’t worry about it. I saw how she hugged you afterwards. That wasn’t the sort of hug someone gives if they’re about to dump you.”
“Wasn’t it? Maybe that’s exactly what it was.”
“I still can’t get over how similar she looked to the Elaine I met that day at the library.”
“Yeah, well, like she said, it must have been that other Elaine you met, the one she went to school with.”
“I suppose so,” said Jeremy thoughtfully. “It’s odd though, don’t you think, with the dates?”
“What dates?”
“The same week I talk to her about Kay, her double enrols with you. Don’t you find that odd? I mean what are the chances?”
“Off the scale, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. The chances of us being born were also off the scale – if you think about all the things that had to happen in order for Mum and Dad to meet, and then just one out of millions of Dad’s sperm had to win a massive race to fertilize Mum’s egg. Everything that happens only happens as a result of an astronomical number of incalculably unlikely events. You’d go mad if you start thinking about it too deeply.”
“I suppose so,” said Jeremy.
“Quarter past eight,” said Dan.
“Stop looking at your watch!”
A man and woman seated themselves at a table close to their booth. To distract himself from his fears about Elaine, Dan studied them. The guy had neatly combed, jet black hair and wore a pale grey suit, and looked at least twenty years older than his companion. Dad and daughter, Dan assumed, until he saw how the guy was gently stroking her hand in a way that did not strike him as paternal. He was talking to her, leaning forward so his mouth was quite close to her ear, but she was barely responding, and didn’t seem to be enjoying his attentions. He had a dry Martini, and she had a tomato juice, which reminded Dan of that idea he once had to make tomato juice his afternoon pub drink. He wondered if this one was a Bloody or a Virgin Mary. To look at the woman, he guessed it was a Virgin. She was over-dressed for the occasion in a blue, puffy-sleeved dress with lace showing beneath the hem, and she wore too much make-up. He guessed her to be in her mid-twenties, but she had the demeanour of someone ten years younger – shy, nervous, darting eyes with a motionless, upright body, as if she was unsure how to behave. It was definitely their first date, and quite possibly their last.
“Why are you looking at that couple?” Jeremy asked. “You know it’s rude to stare.”
“I know,” said Dan. “But they intrigue me. They seem so badly suited.”
Jeremy turned to look. For a long time – a minute or more – he kept on looking. Eventually, Dan felt obliged to point out, “Hey Jerry, you know it’s rude to stare.”
Jeremy blinked a few times, as if to shake himself out of a trance, and turned back to his drink. “You’re right, I’m sorry, I just got distracted.”
“By what?”
“By that woman. She is absolutely the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re kidding me!” Dan studied her again, mentally removing the layers of make-up. He squinted, tilting his head at different angles, but which ever way he looked, she seemed pretty ordinary.
He turned back to his pint, then checked his watch again. Twenty past. Where was she?
Suddenly, they heard a short, high gasp from the table where the couple were seated, and both whirled around to see the man’s hand had disappeared beneath the hem of his date’s blue dress. Her eyes had grown huge and were filled with outraged tears, and the man seemed to be laughing at her distress. Dan watched her reach for her glass of tomato juice and he quickly guessed her intentions. Still, actually seeing her hurl the glass’s contents straight into the man’s face was a shock. The juice washed over his eyes and cheeks and splashed into his open mouth. It cascaded down his suit, turning the pale grey fabric dark pink.
The man uttered a coughing, choking yell of horror and leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over. He whipped out a handkerchief and mopped the juice from his face. “Look what you’ve done, you fucking bitch!” he screamed. “You stupid librarian whore! I’m sending you the dry-cleaning bill!”
“Good!” shouted the woman, as he stormed off to the Gents.
For a second or two she seemed to glow with what looked like triumph. But then she became aware of everyone in the pub staring at her, and the reality of what she’d done set in. Her shoulders hunched and her hands went to her face and she closed in on herself like a blue-petalled flower. Only when the clapping started from the booth next door did she glance up from between her fingers.
Jeremy and Dan were beaming at her as they applauded.
“What have I done?” she groaned.
“You gave him exactly what he deserved, that’s what you did!” said Jeremy.
She stood up. “I should go.”
“Nonsense,” said Dan. “We want to buy you a drink. That was the best thing I’ve seen in this pub in years.”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I feel so stupid.”
“Please stay,” said Jeremy. “You’ll be doing us a real honour. I’m Jeremy, and this is my brother Dan. What’s your name?”
“Sondra.”
“Come and join us Sondra,” said Dan, “and if that guy gives you any more trouble, he’ll have to deal with us. We’ll even pay his stupid dry- cleaning bill.”
Sondra smiled hesitantly. “No, I’ll pay it. But if you’re absolutely sure you don’t mind me joining you, then thank you, I will.”
“What can I get you? Another tomato juice?”
“That’s very kind. Yes please.”
Dan stood up to make way for her. Before she took his place on the seat, she took what looked like an antibacterial wipe from her bag and began rubbing it down. “No offence,” she said, “and I hope you don’t mind. I’m a bit of a germophobe.”
Dan went to the bar, still shaking his head at the craziness he’d just witnessed. She was a strange one that Sondra and no mistake, but she’d done brilliantly. He kept an eye on the Gents, waiting for her date to emerge. He’d be ready to intervene if he gave her any more trouble.
There was a big crowd at the bar and it took him ages to get served. As he waited, he began to fret once again about Elaine. It was twenty-five past eight now – time to get legitimately worried. He WhatsApped her with a quick You on your way? xx
Finally, he found his way clear to the bar and caught a server’s eye. He ordered himself and Jeremy another pint of Doom Bar, along with Sondra’s tomato juice. On his return journey to the booth, he spotted Sondra’s date emerging from the Gents, his jacket still mostly stained a deep salmon colour, not dissimilar to his angry complexion. The guy drilled a furious stare at the table where he and Sondra had been seated and saw it was now empty. He failed to spot his former date just a few feet beyond, now seated opposite Jeremy, and must have assumed she’d left. With an angry harumph, he stormed out of the pub.
Dan navigated his way back to the booth and placed the drinks on the table.
“Your friend has left,” he told Sondra, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you both of you,” she said as they clinked glasses. “I don’t know what to say. You’ve been so kind. I thought this evening was going to be a complete washout.”
“Well, it has been for your friend,” said Jeremy. “A complete pink-out in fact!” He laughed, and Dan groaned at the terrible attempt at humour. To his surprise, Sondra joined in with Jeremy’s laughter, so much so that she had to wipe tears from her eyes.
“Poor Reggie,” she said. “I’ll never forget his expression when he saw what a mess I’d made of his suit. I don’t know how I’ll face him again at the library, assuming he ever comes back.”
Dan and Jeremy exchanged a quick look. “So you work at a library do you?” asked Dan.
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“I had a girlfriend who worked at a library, but sadly she died,” said Jeremy.
“I’m so sorry,” said Sondra. “What happened to her, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Jeremy breathed a shaky sigh. “She was killed in a hit and run accident.”
Sondra put her hands to her cheeks in shock. “Oh my goodness, that’s awful!”
Jeremy nodded. “I know. But I should explain, we didn’t have, you know, a physical relationship. What I mean is, we never actually met up in the flesh. It was an online thing, but we exchanged a great number of messages, and you can get very close to someone through messages and pictures.”
“Of course, I understand completely,” said Sondra, nodding. “I’m very sorry for you.”
“Thanks.”
“How long ago did this happen?”
“I suppose it happened about seven weeks ago.”
“Oh, not long ago then.”
“No, I’m still getting over it.”
Sondra sipped her tomato juice. “Do you mind me asking, was the library where she worked somewhere in this borough?”
“Yes, it was actually.”
“Oh,” she said, taking another sip.
“You look surprised,” said Dan.
“Yes, well it is quite strange because I’d have expected to hear about the death of a colleague, especially a sudden, violent death like that. There’s quite an efficient grapevine among Enfield librarians, and that sort of news tends to spread very quickly. Which library was she at?”
“St Luke’s Road Community Library.”
Sondra went completely still – so much so that Dan began to worry something had happened to her. Perhaps Reggie had taken diabolical revenge by spiking her drink with a paralysing toxin. The glass of tomato juice was poised halfway between the table and her lips. He could see the whiteness of her fingers as she tightly squeezed it. He was about to prise it from her grasp, fearful of a second tomato juice accident in one evening, when she began to move again, gently lowering it to the table.
“What was your girlfriend’s name?” she asked in an oddly flat voice.
“Kay,” said Jeremy. “Are you alright, Sondra?”
Ignoring the question, she said, “So you had an online relationship with a librarian called Kay, who worked at St Luke’s Road Community Library, and then she died?”
“That’s right. You know, you’ve gone quite pale. Do you want a brandy or something?”
“I’m fine,” said Sondra. “I’m just trying to establish the facts. You’re Jeremy, aren’t you?”
“Yes, as I said.”
She nodded and licked her lips. “And how did you find out that Kay had died?”
“Well, after she ghosted me, I went to the library where she worked to try and talk to her, and a woman there called Elaine told me.”
“A woman called Elaine told you she’d died.”
“Yes.”
“Can you describe this Elaine?”
“She had brown hair, which she kept in a ponytail, and she had big glasses, and sort of full lips. Quite pretty. Look, what’s this all about?”
“It’s just as I thought,” said Sondra, staring into space.
“What’s just as you thought?” asked Jeremy.
Sondra gave him a look of such compassion that Dan grew scared.
“There is no woman called Elaine working at that library,” she said. “The woman you spoke to was in fact your girlfriend, Kay.”