Charity Begins at Home, Chapter 3 – First date

Lorna looked at herself in the mirror.

She was getting ready for her afternoon shift at the charity shop and, whilst she normally made sure that she was clean and smart, she had made an extra effort again, just in case he came back into the shop. She laughed at herself – acting like a teenager, tarting herself up just in case the boy of her dreams passed by!

It had been three weeks since Richard had called into the shop with his late wife’s beautiful clothing and had stayed to help her unpack it, share a cup of coffee and a chat. She had thought about him constantly since then and hoped that he had felt the same way and would find a reason to call back in. Not that she was looking for a relationship, of course, but it would be lovely to have a personable male friend to share the occasional theatre or cinema trip, even a nice meal out.

A final coat of lipstick, a quick spritz of Yardley’s Lily of the Valley and she was as ready as she’d ever be. Let’s see what horrors were brought into the shop today; some people had no idea of what was liable to sell and what should be binned – they had even had used directoire knickers handed in to them. It was irrelevant that they were pure silk, binned immediately.

Richard put the bag of scarves and gloves into the car and hoped that he wasn’t making a fool of himself. He’d found the items in a suitcase he’d thought was empty, the day after he’d taken Eleanor’s clothes to the charity shop and was all for going straight back the day after. However, caution prevailed and he made himself wait for three weeks before he went back – didn’t want to appear too eager. Half way there, he suddenly wondered whether or not Lorna would actually be working today – he’d assumed that she would have the same shifts each week and hadn’t thought to check. Damn, he’d put on a smart jacket, polished his shoes and even had a haircut for this visit; didn’t want to waste it on some elderly lady!

Lorna arrived at the shop and took over from Susan, a regular like her, and Phyllis, an elderly lady she had not met before. They seemed to change constantly and she was never sure who would be handing over to her or taking over when she left. She thought herself lucky that her preferred shifts seemed to be kept in place or she would have to rethink volunteering. Nothing new in that morning and after Sue had gone, Phyllis spent ages telling her how she’d reorganised the CD collection into genres instead of alphabetically. Lorna listed patiently and commended her idea; she obviously needed some approval for what she had done and it was no hardship to give her that, as well as some of her time. After all, that’s why they all volunteered, wasn’t it?

Richard found a parking space at the top end of the town and nervously made his way down towards the charity shop. What would he do if Lorna wasn’t on duty today? He could always pretend to be just looking and take the bag of scarves and gloves home again if she wasn’t there. He laughed at himself, he was like a teenage boy on his first date!! It was surprising how good it felt and it was even better when he saw Lorna chatting to an elderly lady by the counter. He went in with his bag full of donations, Lorna greeted him with a smile and introduced him to Phyllis, who was just leaving.

For goodness sake, Lorna thought, he’s had a haircut – what her father used to call a “thrupenny all off” – she believed that the modern parlance was a number 1 cut! His remaining hair was still standing to attention in shock, despite the application of what looked like Brylcreem. He’s also splashed out a bit too much on the Brut, bless him. Hope that my discreet makeup and spritz of perfume don’t send out the same “trying a bit too hard” signals. “Why, Richard, how smart you look, in town for something special?” He flushed a little and looked uncomfortable, “It’s a lovely day and I thought that you might like to go somewhere for an early supper when you finished your work here”.

She was going to make an excuse, going to the pictures with a girlfriend perhaps, then stopped herself. Why was she playing hard to get at her age, for goodness sake. If she wanted to go out for supper with him, go out for supper. If she didn’t want to go, then just say so. Way past the time for childish games. “That would be lovely, Richard, but I won’t be finished here until 5 o’clock, then Frances and I will have to clear up and lock up, as you know. Do you have other things to do this afternoon?”

He mentally kicked himself; in his eagerness to get there, he hadn’t thought that she would only just be starting her shift and now he either had to go home and come back or spend four hours wandering round town. Frances came rushing in at that moment, full of excuses and apologies for being late (again), so he handed over his bag of goodies and said that he would meet Lorna outside at about 5.30. Now what to do? In the end he drove back home and tried to settle to reading the Telegraph and listening to Classic FM to calm him down, without a great deal of success. Had he always been like this on a first date? He couldn’t remember that far back but he had a vague memory that Eleanor had actually asked him to go to the pictures with her and he was too embarrassed to refuse!

So, at 5.30 on the dot, he was on the door step of the charity shop, waiting for Lorna and Frances when they emerged. He didn’t notice that both ladies wrinkled their nose and stepped away from him; he’d applied a little more Brut before he came out as he couldn’t smell it anymore and Eleanor had always liked him wearing it. He said good evening to Frances as she went off for her bus home, then turned to Lorna and offered to drive her the short distance to the restaurant he had chosen. “As it’s such a lovely evening, why don’t we walk?”, she said, not wishing to be shut up in the car with the miasma of Brut which surrounded him. “Then it will help us to shake down the meal by walking back to our cars later.”

They strolled up the High Street to the small Italian restaurant he had visited quite a few times, chatting about their day and the lovely weather and he relaxed at last. She looked just as lovely as he’d remembered her and he liked listening to her voice, quite deep for a woman and extremely well spoken without being “posh”. He was looking forward to his evening very much; a good meal, perhaps a glass of Pinot Grigio, a lovely companion and, hopefully, interesting conversation. It certainly beat sitting at home watching a rerun of a rerun on television.

Lorna wondered how she was going to taste the food at all with the over-powering smell of Brut in her nose and throat! One of the many things she remembered from her Open University Business Studies course was that one should never wear over-powering aftershave or perfume during a working day, as a lot of people would be allergic to, or intolerant of, the fragrance and they would not be receptive to your business conversation. It seemed that it would also apply to an evening out! As they arrived at Da Vinci’s she said, “I hope you don’t mind, Richard, but your aftershave is so powerful that it’s giving me a blinding headache. Would it be possible for you to go straight to the washroom and wash off a lot of it?” She felt awful for saying it, especially seeing how stricken he looked, but otherwise she would have to turn round and go home and she quite fancied a nice Italian meal with a personable man, rather than eat something microwaved out of the freezer!

Richard disappeared into the men’s washroom and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. How could he get it so wrong? And how dare she tell him to scrub off his aftershave? He wouldn’t tell her to scrub off her makeup if she wore too much, would he? Well, no, he wouldn’t, as he was too unsure of himself to do such a thing, but how dare she?! He looked at himself in the mirror, really saw the extreme haircut for the first time and groaned out loud. One of the waiters came in to ask if he was OK and was waved away, then he washed his face thoroughly, patted it dry with the horribly scratchy paper towels and went back into the restaurant.

Lorna gave him a pretty smile over the menu and said “Thank you, and forgive me if I came across as rude but I really cannot stand strong perfume or aftershave and would end up with a migraine, so I’ve learned to be upfront about it.”. “No problem”, he said, “I’m glad that you told me and I’ll remember that in future”. Oh no, now she’ll think that I’m assuming there will be future meetings!!

She chose to ignore that leading comment and concentrated on the menu. So many delicious choices – she always concentrated on the starters and mains, not being a pudding person, but her best friend Elsa always chose her pudding first, then worked backwards to the starter! She eventually decided on bruschetta, followed by pollo cacciatore, with a glass of Pinot Grigio Blush to help it all down. Richard selected a prawn cocktail and sea bream, with his own glass of Pinot Grigio as well. Pity that they were both driving, as a bottle would have been slightly cheaper, he remarked. Lorna forbore to say anything on this point; he was rapidly losing marks in her mental check list – awful haircut, too much aftershave, now showing signs of meanness (or was it just thrift and common sense?). On the plus side, he had made an effort in his dress and taken some thought in where to go for supper, so she would wait and see how the rest of the evening progressed.

The food was delicious, the wine was crisp and cold and the conversation was easy, once they got started. She had read somewhere that all that was needed was to ask the man about himself and let him talk, with the occasional sign of interest, faked or otherwise! He was an interesting man and obviously well educated, with a nice sense of humour at times but if she heard the name “Eleanor” one more time she was going to throw something. He seemed unaware that her smile was becoming fixed as he told her all about his marriage and how he had looked after Eleanor in her final months at home and how they had sorted out their differences and become friends again. It was so good to be able to talk to someone sympathetic and understanding about it all.

“Thank you for inviting me out this evening, Richard, it was a very enjoyable meal”, Lorna said as they left the restaurant. They had had a bit of a tussle when she had insisted on paying half of the bill but, as she quite reasonably pointed out, they were both living on their pensions and she would not go out unless she could afford to pay her way. He was “old school” and thought that he should pay for the meal as he’d invited her out, but was secretly relieved that he didn’t have to, but that was another black mark against her this evening. He also had his own inner check list, although he was unaware of his low score on hers! She had insisted on him washing off his favourite aftershave, which Eleanor bought him every Christmas and birthday; she had eaten lots of garlic during the meal and she’d been quite strident about paying her share of the meal – did she think that he was going to demand “payment in kind”?

They walked back to the car park side by side, quietly chatting about nothing much, each deep in their own thoughts. Was this the start of something or had it just been a pleasant evening meal between two new friends? At Lorna’s car, Richard shook her hand and pecked her cheek, ensured that she got into her car safely, then went over to his own car and sat in it for a while. They had not arranged to meet up again; did he want to see her again; did she want to see him again? Both of them drove back to their empty homes feeling pleasantly full and rather sad.

Written by Laura Wickham

Chapter 4