Chapter 2-1
1114 Words
Chapter 2
Getting to the library at 8:30, I walked into the main office, signed in and generally went through the usual motions of starting the workday.
Mary breezed in just in time.
“You’ll be caught out one of these days,” I cautioned in my mock parental voice.
“I know, I know. I got chatting to the milkman and lost sight of the time.”
“Is he a dish?” I asked.
“About fifty, thinning hair and suffers from B.O.”
“My kind of man,” I joked.
“I’m sure you could do better than him. Anyway, he’s got a wife and three kids. He was telling me about his youngest, Amy I think. That was what almost made me late. She’s got herself in the club. Seems she and her boyfriend thought if they did it standing up, she wouldn’t get pregnant.”
I frowned. “She won’t, will she?”
Mary looked at me with astonishment written all over her face. I couldn’t hold my serious countenance any longer and began to grin at her.
“Bloody fool! It amazes me what they teach the kids at that comprehensive, it really does.”
“Kids today.” I croaked out in my grandfatherly voice.
“Absolutely!” Mary said, sweeping past me to change the date on the stamps that we used to indicate to the readers when their books were due back. That task accomplished, she announced, “Shall we open up then?”
“Yes, might as well let the madding crowds in.” I went to the doors and unlocked them, swinging them back with a dramatic flourish. Of course there was no one waiting to gain admittance.
“Bloody fool!” she repeated. “You seem pretty happy today.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it later,” I replied. “Though I’m not sure you’ll approve.”
She raised an eyebrow. I could quite easily predict what her reactions would be. First would come shock. Then she’d wonder at my boldness. Next would come a short period of silence as she processed the information. Then she’d worry I’d put myself in danger. Finally she’d ask if I was going to repeat the experience.
Patrons trickled in throughout the morning. The miserable weather no doubt encouraged some people to just come in for a bit just to shelter from the rain.
We had the usual crop of students doing that last minute bit of research, needing to look up a few references for the essay that would be due in that day. We also saw a couple of local historians who wanted to consult the microfiche records of the local paper. Two old age pensioners shuffled through the doors. The first wanted to find out what he could about a murder committed half a century ago. The second wanted to research his great uncle Frank, and whether or not he had won first prize for his onions in the county flower and produce show twenty-five years ago.
All pretty mundane stuff, but that was what I liked. Predictability, order and onions. The local historians knew what they were doing, so needed little help from me. The guy checking on the prize-winning onions wasn’t really sure what to do, so required more assistance. It seemed there was a long running family argument about whether Uncle Frank came in first or second. The things families argued about! I was able to find out he had actually got a ‘highly commended.’ No doubt this didn’t satisfy either of the warring factions, but there it was in print, and so at least that particular argument was laid to rest.
The day progressed pretty much as most days do in the glittering world of non-fiction. As Mary and I took different lunches we couldn’t talk then. I would have to wait till a lull in the rush.
It wasn’t until half past three that the section was empty enough for me to feel I could spill the beans about the previous evening without being overheard.
“Want to know what I did last night?” I said to Mary as I sidled up to her left side, using my best master spy voice.
“I’ve been wondering what has improved your mood today, and the bit about me not approving has me intrigued.”
“Well,” I coughed, looked around again to ensure I wasn’t going to be overheard and said rather too quickly, “I spent the evening with a male prostitute.”
She laughed. I looked sternly at her.
“You didn’t!” she said a bit too loudly.
“Not so loud! I did. Honestly.”
She was stunned. I didn’t think much would shut Mary up, but this did. She stared open mouthed at me for a few seconds. “Well, I’ll go to the foot of our stairs.”
Despite my nervousness, I had to smile at her old-fashioned turn of phrase.
“What was it like? You were safe weren’t you? Did he hurt you? Will you do it again?”
I gave another quick look around. No one was paying us any attention. “To take each of your questions in turn, it was pretty nice. In fact I felt good about it.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes I was perfectly safe. We went to my place. All we did was sit on the sofa and kiss and cuddle. No, Mark—his name was Mark—didn’t hurt me at all. I felt nice and warm and tingly inside.” I closed my eyes to try to recapture some of the pleasant feelings of the previous evening, but I couldn’t. I opened my eyes; the doubt was already beginning to settle in. “It’s a pity I had to pay for the experience though.” I sighed.
Mary gave me a hug.
“Thanks.” I returned her hug. “Even though we agreed on a couple of hours he stayed later, and didn’t want any extra money.”
“That’s, uh, good?”
I wanted to tell her more about Mark. Maybe talking about him would help recapture the good feelings. “I fed him. I don’t think he’d had a decent meal in a couple of days. He was wearing a thin T-shirt on top, so I gave him an old jumper of mine. It was raining, so I also made him take an old raincoat. Honestly, Mary, I don’t know where I got the courage to go out and do it, but I’m really glad I did.” I paused, then said, “But I didn’t give him my recipe for Yorkshire pudding.”
She looked at me strangely for a few seconds. Then the penny must have dropped and she tilted her head back and laughed.
After she quieted, she asked, “Will you see him again?”
I shrugged. Part of me thought I’d pushed my luck the first time and it would be impossible to recapture the magic of that night. Another part of me thought I was weird and sad and creepy to be willing to pay for my happiness. And a third part thought what the hell. Next time you can afford it, go for it!
“I’m surprised, I really am. But if it makes you happy, then I suppose that’s okay. Simon, you will be careful though, won’t you? If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“I promise I’ll be careful.” Silently I added, Careful with my heart, too.
We continued with our duties until closing time. Bidding each other goodbye at the main door, we went our separate ways home.
- Writer
