Second to None
by Ishbel McCormack
ishbelmcc1@btinternet.com
“Mark! You’ll never
guess what I found out.”
“Yeah?”
I was only half listening, the football was about to start and I’d turned the
volume up on the telly.
“You
know how Julie’s working in London.”
Despite
the ref’s whistle signalling the start of the game, I tore my eyes from the
screen to stare at Mum. She whirled into the lounge, grabbed the remote, and pressed
mute. A cloying smell of hairspray wafted around the room.
“Well
not anymore!” She turned to the mirror over the fireplace and patted her newly-
done hair, releasing more of the toxic gas. “And you’ll never guess.”
My
stomach did a back flip. Julie and I had been going out but then she’d moved
away. We’d drifted apart and although I hadn’t seen her for ages, she was often
on my mind.
“She’s
back?”
“Yes
but that’s not it.”
Mum paused
for dramatic effect. I could see she was enjoying building the tension, but I
really didn’t like the way the conversation was going. I had a bad feeling that
whatever it was I wasn’t going to like it. My insides tensed up as if anticipating
a punch to the guts and I uttered the dreaded words.
“She’s
getting married?”
“Knew
you’d never guess!”
If Mum
were a footballer she’d have celebrated by pulling her top over her head and running
around the room. Fortunately she settled for a triumphant finger pointing in my
face. Relief spread through me, relaxing my muscles – whatever it was it
couldn’t be as bad as Julie getting married to someone else. “Okay, tell me
then.”
“You
could at least have another guess.”
I
sensed Mum was determined to drag this out, so I thought I’d better play along
or I’d never get the remote back.
“She’s emigrating?”
She
shook her head looking pleased with herself.
“She’s
won the lottery, shaved her hair, run off with the circus, joined the foreign
legion. Is that enough guesses?” I grinned.
“Cheeky.
If you’re going to be like that...” She grabbed a cushion and threw it towards
me. I head flicked it onto the carpet.
“Goal!”
I punched the air and slid off the sofa to my knees. I figured the nearer I was
to the floor, the further away I was from the noxious hair fumes. “Okay, I give
up – please tell me so I can have the remote back and get on with the rest of my
life.”
“She’s
going to be a nun!”
I stared
at Mum’s smug expression. Of all the things it could have been that was not on
my list. “No, that can’t be right, you’ve got it wrong. Julie’s not religious.”
Mum
didn’t seem to notice I’d turned into a chanting monk and prattled on. “I heard
Julie’s mum’s neighbour talking in the hairdressers. She’s going to the convent
next week. Must be why she’s home, to see her mum before she takes her vows. Shame
really. I always thought you two would get back together. Such a lovely girl
but, if you’ve got a calling, well that’s it. Fancy a cuppa?” She handed over
the remote and the hurricane called Mum moved out the room, oblivious to the turmoil
she’d left behind.
I
turned the volume on but I’d lost interest in the game. My mind drifted to
Julie with her blonde hair and grey/green eyes. What colour they were depended on
the mood she was in or what she was wearing. I sighed and remembered the slinky
top and tight jeans she’d worn on our first date. That evening her eyes were
silvery green.
No
matter how I tried I couldn’t equate this image with my Julie in a nun’s habit,
but then she wasn’t my Julie anymore and that was the point. Nearly a year had
passed since we’d parted.
I
mulled over the devastating news. The more I thought about her becoming a nun
the worse I felt. My eyes were welling up, and I never cried– not even
when my football team lost. What was wrong with me? I had to get out, make
sense of it all. “I’m off down the pub,” I called to Mum.
The
weather matched my mood – grey and bleak – and as I meandered to my local I took
a detour through the park. I paused at the bench where we’d sat, making our
plans and talking about our future. If I closed my eyes I could picture us
there in a passionate clinch. She always was the best kisser.
Then
reality set in – Julie got a job in London – that’s when things went
pear-shaped and I discovered I couldn’t do long distance romance. Yet there’d
never been anyone to compare to Julie. If only I could have a second chance. I kicked
a stone and stubbed my toe.
Thoroughly
depressed, I limped into The Open Arms. A girl with long blonde hair stood at
the bar. She looked like Julie. My chest hammered. For goodness sake pull yourself
together man, I scolded, this obsessing has got to stop. Then the girl turned
around and I saw it really was Julie, her eyes were the colour of jade.
“Hi
Mark.”
“What
are you doing here?”
“Drinking,”
she said, lifting a glass to her perfect lips.
Julie
always did have a wicked sense of humour.
“Can I
buy you a pint?”
“Thanks.
Having a drink while you can?” I nodded towards the glass in her hand and
wondered if a ‘soon to be nun’ should be in a pub.
Her
brow creased. “What?”
“Thought
you’d want to break the habit before you wear the habit,” I joked while cringing
inside.
“Are
you drunk?”
“Sorry,
it’s just thrown me, this nun business.”
“I can
drink whatever I like.” She frowned and edged away. It was then I saw the
bottle of wine and glasses on the bar.
“You’re
expecting company.”
“Shona
and Carol. I bought the Blue Nun as a joke for the girls.”
“Good
one.” I tried to smile but my mouth was refusing to co-operate.
She
lifted the pint and passed it to me. As she leaned closer I caught a whiff of
sweet coconut shampoo. It took me right back to when I’d run my fingers through
her silky hair, when she was still my Julie. The sun chose that moment to peek
from behind the clouds and a sunbeam lit up her face. Her eyes turned silvery
green.
“I’ve
missed you,” I said.
“Me
too.”
“Really?
Then maybe it’s not too late for us?” I could hear the desperate tone in my voice
but garbled on. “Do you think we could give things another go? Please don’t go
off to be a nun.”
Julie stared
at me as if I was a crazy man which quite frankly I was – crazy to have let her
slip out of my life. Before she could answer, the door swung open, and her two
mates bounced through the doorway. They did that girly squealing thing and
hugged each other.
“Blue
Nun!” Carol shrieked when she spied the bottle.
“Remember
the time we drank it before the school disco?”said Shona.
“And you
puked over Gary Sharp,” laughed Julie as she poured them both a glass.
“Ah,
the end of a beautiful romance.” Shona sighed and clasped the wine bottle to
her bosom.
I
leaned against the bar clutching my pint feeling excluded from their female
jokiness. What was there to be happy about? Weren’t they going to miss her?
“Speaking
of romance,” Carol winked at Julie, “see you’ve not wasted any time.”
Carol
nodded towards me. “But why the glum face?”
“Apparently
I’ve found God,” said Julie. “I’m going to be a nun.”
There was
an explosion of noise as they burst out laughing. They were so loud I half
expected the dogs from the estate to join in with their howling.
I
stood, pint in hand, an embarrassed smile on my face, and wished they’d let me
in on the joke. It was at least five minutes before Julie could speak. “Whoever
told you that?”
“Mum heard
your mum’s neighbour talking in the hairdressers.”
“What
exactly did she say?”
“That you’re
going into a convent next week.”
Julie started
laughing again. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. The other two joined in, bent
over double, while I stood there all confused.
“You
idiot! Your mum heard it wrong. I’m not going into a convent – my office has
transferred me back here – I’m on secondment.”
The
girls started shrieking again.
“Secondment.”
I repeated, till my brain caught up with my mouth. “Not a convent – secondment!”
“No
wonder you were freaked out by the bottle of Blue Nun,” Julie giggled, then we were
all laughing.
I
couldn’t help it. I picked Julie up and twirled her around in the air.
“Do
you think I’d look sexy in a nun’s habit?” she whispered as I held her in my
arms.
I leaned
back and gazed into her eyes which had turned a deep emerald, and I knew what that meant. “I promise you, this is the only habit I want.”
And to
prove it I kissed her again and again, because – guess what – no one can kiss
like my Julie.
©2010 Ishbel McCormack
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