Charity Begins at Home, Chapter 4 – Once More with Feeling
Richard looked at himself in the mirror.
Thank goodness his military style haircut had grown out a bit and he looked less like a conscript. He thought back to his supper out with Lorna and groaned – just what had he been thinking about? Best jacket, shiny shoes, severe haircut, far too much aftershave and, in his nervousness, he had talked far too much about Eleanor, even though Lorna had smiled and nodded throughout. He had been really upset with her asking him to wash off his aftershave and then had got a bit shirty with her when she insisted on paying her share of the bill, so their “date” had ended with a chaste peck on the cheek and both of them driving to their respective homes without any other plans being made. In the 3 weeks since then, he hadn’t visited the charity shop again and they hadn’t exchange phone numbers or addresses, so it had been left in limbo.
It was obviously up to him to make the next move but did he want to bother? Where was it going to go? The problem was that he had no friends, only old acquaintances from the banking days, and a few cousins scattered around the country, although he hadn’t seen any of them for years, not even at Eleanor’s funeral. All of the friends they had were her friends and he had been rather short with some of them, coming round with casseroles or scones, simpering at him and offering condolences. No way was he letting them into his house and his life; they struck him as rather predatory and scared him witless. Let’s face it, Richard, he mused to himself, you are just not a people person – give you rows of figures and a computer and you’re happy, but social chit-chat and personal relationships – no!
However, he was lonely and the last months with Eleanor had shown him what a caring relationship could be like when he put in some effort. Perhaps he could find that again with someone new, but was it too soon? He had really liked Lorna the first time he met her and felt that they could be friends at least. Yes, he decided that he would go into town and see if he could contact her again.
Lorna looked out of her sitting room window on to the wintry seascape and wondered why she have ever thought that retiring to live on the coast would be the ideal! Yes, it was lovely on bright, sunny, days but on days like this it was sheer hell. A steel-grey sky full of threatening clouds, grey seas with high rolling waves thundering against the rocks below; not really tempting her to go out for her usual walk along the cliff path and down into the village. She was warm and cosy in the cottage and intended to stay that way; she had plenty of food in the fridge and freezer, books to read, CDs to listen to, DVDs to watch, but she was restless and wanted to stretch her limbs – perhaps she should put on her Rosemary Conley DVD and get some exercise that way! Smiling ruefully at herself, she made a cup of coffee and sat down in front of the open fire – one of the reasons for buying this cottage in the first place.
“Why didn’t I get Richard’s phone number when we met?” She felt frustrated at not being able to get in touch with him, just to have a friendly chat and smooth over the irritation they had both felt at their evening out. The Hospice had contacted her to change her shifts since that day and she now only did Tuesday mornings, where before he had come in on a Thursday afternoon. If he had tried to get in touch with her, she wasn’t aware of it and she felt a little guilty about how acerbic she had been with him. It wasn’t his fault that she hated strong aftershave! And he was perfectly entitled to talk about his late wife after only six months of being a widower. She knew that she could be very sharp at times and did try to control it but living alone made one very selfish and self-centred and forgetful of social graces at times.
“Right!,”, she decided, ”on Thursday afternoon I shall go into town and pop into the shop, just in case he has been in and left a message. If I time it for about 4 p.m., there’s a chance he will have been in – if not, I can go along to the tea rooms and treat myself to a scone and a cream cake to compensate.” Decision made, she settled down happily with her current book.
Thursday afternoon, the day that Lorna usually worked in the charity shop, the rain was coming down in heavy, cold, bursts and Richard debated about whether or not to go into town at all. After pacing round the living room a few times, he laughed at himself, got into his foul-weather clothing and ran out to the car. Parking in town was easy, as only a few hardy souls seems to have ventured out in the appalling weather. His heart flipped when he saw Lorna’s car in the car park and he walked to the charity shop with a lighter heart, only to be dashed down again when he could not see her inside the shop. He took a deep breath and went into the shop to ask the elderly lady there if Lorna was around. “Oh, yes”, she said, “She was in about half an hour ago and has gone up to the tea rooms.” Richard beamed at her, said thank you and made his way up to the old fashioned tea rooms at the end of the High Street.
Lorna was sitting a small table for two, half way through a scone and with a large slice of a delicious-looking cream cake in front of her. She looked up as Richard entered the tea rooms, shaking off the rain like a dog. “He came!”, she thought happily, and waved at him as he tried to shuck off the large waterproof jacket. He grinned at her, managed to hang up his dripping coat and came over to join her. The atmosphere between them was much better than it had been the last time they met and he was determined to do or say nothing to threaten it this time.
“That cake looks delicious – do you recommend it?”, he asked. “Certainly do”, she responded, “my friend, Mariah, makes all of the cakes and scones in here and they are good for the soul, if not too good for the arteries!”. Richard asked the waitress for the same again and a fresh pot of tea and settled down happily to chat with Lorna. This was more like it; two friends sharing an afternoon tea and catching up with events.
They both started to talk at the same time – “No, you first”, said Richard. “I just wanted to apologise for the way I treated you the last time we met”, she said, “I know that I can be very blunt at times and a lot of people don’t like me on first meeting me, but believe me, my bark is a lot worse than my bite!”. Disarmed, Richard said “Please don’t mention it; I was out of order with boring you to death talking about Eleanor all of the time and asphyxiating you with my aftershave. Shall we start again?”. They both laughed and settled down to enjoy their afternoon tea.
Written by Laura Wickham
Laura Wickham
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