Chapter 11 #2
A pang of sadness hit Rick for a moment when he remembered the pain of his own marriage ending.
He’d felt more like howling to the moon than dancing.
Then it occurred to him that this wasn’t how the memory affected him nowadays.
He was settled in his new home and supporting his estranged sons as best he could at a distance, even though they were living in Germany.
There was no need to look back over his shoulder any more.
Unless… unless Vee’s arrival meant he would have to do just that and delve a lot further into the past.
The two men carried on eating. Finally, both sat back and finished their beer.
‘That was immense,’ said Sam. ‘I was hungry after all. How was yours?’
‘It was great, actually. Oh, and here’s her highness, the queen of Fiddler’s Row.’ Rick turned as the outer door swung open and Beryl sashayed in.
‘I love Beryl. Are you being sarcastic?’ asked Sam.
‘No, not at all. So do I. It’s just that she looks very regal tonight, and I kind of feel as if she has a lot of power in Willowbrook, don’t you? Along with the other two, of course, but Beryl’s in charge, even if they don’t know it.’
Beryl and Frank made their way to the Saga Louts’ usual table and then Frank went back to the bar to order drinks, just as two more customers entered the room.
‘The full set,’ said Sam. ‘Here are our missing links.’
The two elderly men who had just walked in looked as dashing as Frank tonight.
Sid Potter, who Rick had known since childhood, wore a hand-knitted fair isle sweater in gentle, muted shades over a navy shirt with smart jeans and Maurice Fortesque, another old friend, was his usual dapper self in a vintage smoking-jacket edged with gold braid, teamed with burgundy velvet trousers.
They both ordered a large glass of red wine and brought their drinks over to Rick and Sam’s table.
‘Good grief, you two have put me and Rick to shame,’ said Sam, pretending to swoon. ‘I know Maurice always makes an effort, but even he’s gone the extra mile tonight and I’ve never seen you looking so magnificent, Sid. What’s brought this on?’
‘Wait and see,’ said Maurice, tapping the side of his nose mysteriously.
‘Ready for us to wipe the floor with you?’ asked Sid, setting his glass down and pulling up a chair.
‘As if,’ said Rick. ‘We’re on a winning streak since Ned got this new beer of the month in, remember? It makes our brain cells work twice as well.’
‘Ha!’ Sid took a sip of his wine and shook his head. ‘You’ve no chance. Get the cowries out, Maurice. Let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got the cards.’
The two packs were soon on the table along with the ornate wooden box that held Maurice’s collection of tiny cowrie shells.
When Ned had introduced games night, he’d laid down a couple of basic rules: no cheating and no gambling with money.
Rick was disappointed to begin with. He’d had hopes of putting his giant whisky bottle that was almost full of coins to good use, but now he’d grown fond of the little shells, used as betting currency.
They’d been in Maurice’s family for years and he was the last man standing so he’d inherited them.
‘And don’t do your usual trick of picking out the shiniest ones for yourselves,’ said Maurice, as Sam started to count the cowries out, fifty for each player to start with and five for the initial kitty.
Rick laughed. ‘The grubbier ones don’t seem worth as much somehow,’ he said, helping his friend with the job. ‘There you go, are we ready for off? Cut for dealer.’
The serious business of the evening began, as all around similar groups were setting out their stalls too.
Beryl had fetched the box containing Cluedo before anyone else could snaffle it, and a group over at the far side of the room were already in their first argument as they played Monopoly.
A game of Uno was absorbing a younger crowd who had separated into two tables and were making more noise than the rest of Ned’s customers put together.
Rick caught the landlord’s eye as he pulled more pints for a group of newcomers.
They gave each other a thumbs-up sign. Rick had been instrumental in publicising the games night, and both were delighted with its success.
‘That was a daft mistake, partner,’ said Sid, after he’d dealt again, and they’d started a second round. ‘You must know I had no hearts left. It’s not like you to mess up. What’s the problem?’
‘Everybody drops a clanger sometimes,’ said Maurice. ‘You need to wind your neck in.’
This was so unlike Maurice’s usual genial approach to playing cards that Rick and Sam both stared. ‘Are you okay, Maurice?’ asked Sam, concern all over his face. ‘Have you had a bad day, or something?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ snapped Maurice. ‘I’m just a bit preoccupied…
I… oh, I might as well tell you what’s on my mind.
’ He lowered his voice, and the others leaned in to catch his next words.
‘I’ve decided to ask Anthea to marry me.
I’ve got a ring in my pocket.’ He patted the side of his coat as his three companions’ mouths dropped open in unison.
‘Whaaat?’ Rick couldn’t hold the exclamation in, and several people turned to see what the fuss was about, including Beryl’s team.
‘Ssshh. Keep your voice down. I’m waiting for the right moment. I’m going to propose as soon as I get my courage up. And don’t all look so horrified. She’s a wonderful woman. Any man would be lucky to have her hand in marriage.’
There was a moment or two of silence, and then Sam said, ‘But I think that’s the whole point. Quite a few men already have. Had her hand in marriage, I mean.’
‘Yes, he’s right. You’d be… let’s see…’ Rick counted on his fingers. ‘One, two, three, four… you’d be number five on her list of husbands, Maurice. Doesn’t that bother you?’
Maurice thought about this briefly. Then he smiled. ‘I think she’s just never found the right person so far,’ he said. ‘Let me ask you something. What would you all be looking for in your ideal woman? Or man,’ he added hastily when he saw Sam open his mouth to protest.
Sid smiled. ‘That’s easy. A companion for life. A happy smile and a hug to greet you when you come home. Someone who laughs at the same things. If they were a cracking cook too, that would be the icing on the cake. Literally. I could go on.’
‘And you’ve had that already,’ said Maurice. ‘You’re lucky. Would you do it again though?’
‘I might. I just might. I miss it all, you know.’
Rick noticed that Sid’s eyes automatically strayed to the table where Beryl and co were having a very loud discussion on one of the finer points of their game of Cluedo.
Interesting. Was Sid about to make a play for Anthea too?
Surely he wouldn’t step on Maurice’s toes.
Or was he planning to home in on one of the other two ladies?
Beryl was pink-cheeked, giggling at something that Frank had said, and then there was Winnie, magnificently arrayed in a brightly patterned red and blue gown with a matching head wrap.
She was a glorious sight, and she was laughing too, her whole body shaking.
He heard his own name and was jolted out of his musings.
‘What about you, Rick? What’s your ideal woman like?’ Maurice said. ‘And Sam? Or have you already found your perfect person?’
Sam shrugged. ‘I thought I had, but Luka, gorgeous though he is, seems to be having a bit too much fun at uni. I’m trying to give him some space, but it’s not easy. Rick? What do you have to say about this?’
Rick wasn’t sure where to go with his answer.
When his marriage had imploded, he’d been devastated, especially when his boys were taken away from him.
He’d fought hard for access and won, to some extent, but visiting them and having them to stay was complicated.
What if he had someone to share his life with?
Would the partings each time be less painful?
But you couldn’t start a relationship just to use it like a sticking plaster on old wounds.
‘Okay, I can see you’re struggling. Forget the past for a moment. Imagine your dream partner,’ Sam said, putting his cards face down on the table and leaning back in his chair.
This was even trickier. With the best will in the world, these words only conjured up a vision of one woman.
Venetia Prescott. Close proximity to Vee over the last couple of days had definitely stirred up something deep in Rick, an undercurrent of heat that his almost-relationship with Rev Bev had never touched.
But that scenario didn’t involve forgetting the past. If ever there was to be anything between Rick and Vee, the past would be an all-too-vital part of it.
In the time it took Rick to think of a reply, Maurice had been getting more and more agitated. Finally, tired of waiting, he got to his feet and drank the remaining wine in his glass in one gulp.
‘It’s no good shilly-shallying. I’m going to ask her and I’m going to do it right now,’ he declared, squaring his shoulders and turning to march across the short distance that separated their tables.
‘Should we grab him?’ murmured Sam. ‘Or I could rugby tackle him to stop this happening?’
‘No, you might break him,’ said Sid. ‘Hold your peace, lad. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, as they say in all the best films. We’ll just need to be on hand to pick up the pieces if it all goes badly wrong. I’m not convinced he’s doing the right thing, I’ll tell you that for nothing.’