January 9th, 1990

January 9th, 1990

At home

I love days where you wake up with no expectation of how it will go, especially when that day finishes up being so much better than you could’ve imagined.

Against my better judgement, I rang Ben this morning and almost fainted when Mandy answered. She has a scratchy, whiny voice that I felt the need to torture myself listening to, before I heard Ben asking, “Who is it?” and swiftly hung up. I guess he “forgot” to mention she was coming to visit.

Went to see “Shirley Valentine,” which mum absolutely loved, as did I but nothing can compare to the stage version Frankie and I were fortunate enough to see in New York last summer.

When mum and I got home, the phone was ringing and I almost killed myself when, in my hasty attempt to answer it, I tripped on the scatter rug.

“Shit!” I shouted, getting up.

“Don’t swear!”

“Sorry, mum,” I said, reaching for the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello,” said the male voice.

“Oh, hello,” I said, with no idea who it was.

“Well, hello,” he said.

Rubbing my throbbing thumb, I asked, “Who the hell is this?”

Mum glared at me as she hung up her coat. “Sorry,” I mouthed.

“It’s me, Jack”, he laughed.

“Oh, Jack, hi.”

Mum rolled her eyes and I shooed her away.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Not at all,” I lied.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, fine thanks.” Except for my sprained ankle and dislocated thumb.

“And you?”

“Good, yeah” he said. “I was ringing to see what you’re up to tonight.”

The shooting pain in my ankle was worsening so I lifted my foot off the floor. “Tonight?”

“Yeah, you know, that time towards the end of the day, the one we usually refer to as night time?”

I laughed. “Sorry, I lost my train of thought there.”

“So, you busy tonight?”

“Yes, eh no, not tonight, I’m not. No.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” he laughed. “Maybe in a more straightforward way.”

“Oh, ok,” I said, balancing precariously on one foot.

“So, if you’re not busy, would you like to do something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well first I have a confession to make.”

So do I, I wanted to say. I may never walk again.

“Go on,” I said, feeling utterly confused.

“I’ve got a meeting at the crack of dawn in your neck of the woods and my boss just informed me that accounting authorized me to spend the night at the hotel.”

“Where?”

“Central Milton Keynes.”

“Oh, that’s really close to where I live.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “I’m aware of that.”

I gave up on the balancing act and gently placed my foot on the floor. “Hence the phone call.”

“Not quite. I rang you the other day and when you didn’t ring back I assumed…”

“Sorry, I’ve been away for a few days.”

“So you weren’t ignoring me then?”

I laughed, “No, not at all.”

“Well now we’ve established that, would you like to meet for a drink?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve heard The Point is decent.”

“It’s not the best but you can’t miss it.”

“How about eight?”

“Great, I’ll meet you there.”

 

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