Some Day Days Read online

Mid-August, The Following Friday

  It was very iffy. I’d my reasons, my lines, my logic, but I was still far from confident. But I’d something to prove, at least to myself, after last Saturday. She was worth the risk. Still, it was iffy, iffy, iffy.

  I surveyed the busy London street. Unable to cover all the building’s exits, I decided she’d probably need to turn in her credentials at the main desk, so I loitered half a block down from the main entrance, watching the doors while people hurried by on one hand, and the traffic purred slowly by on the other.

  I’d set out from Canvey Island two hours earlier. Stopped at home for a quick shower and change before taking the tube to Whitehall, arriving with fifteen minutes to spare. I'll admit to finding those fifteen minutes a whole lot more stressful than I had envisioned them in my Canvey Island hotel room. I was tempted to give it all a miss, but I knew I'd bitterly regret it fifteen minutes after I did.

  So I stayed to watch the clerks and civil servants pour out of their offices at the end of their workweek. I'd expected she'd be near the end, but after waiting until the last of the stragglers seemed to have left, I was ready to give up – feeling both disappointed and relieved – when I saw her push through the doors. I smiled. She was wearing a mini skirt on her last day. She was with three other girls – they were all talking and laughing – no doubt her friends from the office. Damn, I thought. She could've made plans with her friends to celebrate her last day. I’d assumed she’d not want to make too much of a night of it since she'd be leaving in the morning for her holiday, and would be free for an early dinner with me.

  I watched as they reached the pavement and turned away from me, only to stop to talk out of the stream of pedestrians. When I saw Beri give one a hug, I guessed they were saying their goodbyes, so I pushed myself off the signpost I was holding up and made myself walk over to her.

  ‘...I know, but I have all my packing to do...’ Beri was saying as I slipped beside her.

  ‘But only after she has dinner with me,’ I said cutting into the conversation with an apologetic smile to her friends.

  ‘You!'

  'Who else?' I replied.

  'What are you doing here, Gallagher?’ she said, surprised, but not angry. Or not very angry.

  ‘Hello, Beri. You look quite stunning today. Nice legs,’ I added with an appreciative smile.

  ‘Knock it off, Gallagher,’ she replied smoothly. ‘Now, what are you doing here? I thought I’d seen the last of you for a while.’

  'Well, I was just down the street, and catching sight of you coming out of that office, I decided to take the opportunity to ask you – and your friends – out for dinner,' I added, hoping her friends kept their wits about them and declined the invitation. Still, as a project manager, I could afford it. I guess.

  'Are you stalking me now, Gallagher?'

  'Heavens, no. I've been working in Canvey Island all week. I just, well, I felt I needed to see you once more to celebrate the end of your meteoric Treasury career. Over dinner.'

  'I thought we reached an understanding.'

  'Yes. We do have an understanding. It's just that I discovered a little loophole and felt it was within our understanding to stand you to dinner tonight. Just tonight.’

  ‘Oh, you did, did you? I seemed to have missed the message warning me of this loophole,’ she said sarcastically, but without rancour.

  ‘Knowing how you hate phone calls, I decided to forego one. Besides you’d have said No. Couldn't risk that. Best make a surprise out of it. Plus, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to wrap up my Canvey Island project in time to get back to London to do anything. I didn’t want to risk standing you up. So you see, this was the only way. Now, these must be your friends, Sheri, Anne, Gloria,’ I said, turning to her friends who’d been watching us with amused interest. 'I'm delighted to have a chance to meet you. Selina has told me how wonderful you've been to her.'

  Beri sighed. ‘Hugh Gallagher,’ she said, with a shrug in my direction, and introduced her friends, putting their names with their faces. We shook hands with ‘How do you do? Nice to meet you.’ all around.

  ‘I’m glad to have the chance to thank you for making my friend,' this with a glance to my friend, 'so welcome at OBSA. She’s told me how much she appreciates all you did for her and how much she enjoys your friendship. And well, I should also thank you for all the work you put in last Friday. Can't tell you how sorry I am that I let the side down...’ Which earned me an elbow in my side from Beri, but grins from her friends.

  ‘We were, all, so very disappointed, Hugh. Still it’s never too late,’ Sheri assured me. ‘I’m sure Selina still has that list of hotels we came up with for her on her watson.’

  ‘I do not. And it is too late.’

  ‘She has so much packing to do,’ said Gloria sarcastically.

  ‘The Clover on Golders Green Road and the Heath Inn on Hampstead High Street,’ added Anne. ‘But I’m sure those sorts of hotels are a lot handier around here...’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t know,’ replied Beri archly, with mock cattiness.

  With a few more laughs, and a little more chatter, they made their excuses why they couldn't join us for dinner and then with more goodbyes and promises of keeping in touch (‘We expect all the juicy details, Selly.’) her friends went on their way. With one last wave to her friends, Beri turned to me.

  ‘Now, you. I’d thought we’d agreed to put you in a box on the shelf until further notice. Getting rather bold, are we?’

  ‘Perhaps. But I wasn’t bold enough on Saturday, and I regret that now. You’re worth taking a few risks. Besides, girls don’t care for boys they can just push around. They like bad boys...’

  ‘So you’re a bad boy now?’

  ‘More like a mischievous boy, I suppose. Or maybe a bad boy on his best behaviour?’

  She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t really upset, but I did want her to understand my reasoning. I’d put a lot of work on polishing them up.

  ‘As for escaping my box, if you think back, we were talking about it in the context of your studies in Cambridge. But you're not in Cambridge yet. I assure you I've every intention of honouring our agreement. You’ll not find me turning up in Cambridge like this. Truly Selina, I know how much it means to you... to us,’ I couldn’t help adding. 'But, well, a dinner, a walk home tonight, won't change anything, and, well, maybe I wasn't bold enough Saturday – not like I was kidding you, but by not emphasizing the fact that I agreed to step back out of your life because your friendship is worth the price you're asking.'

  She gave me a look. 'I really hadn't doubted the depths of your friendship, Gallagher.'

  'Best to make sure,' I replied lightly. 'Just double checking.'

  ‘You’d better not even think of showing up in Cambridge unannounced,’ she said, giving me a hard look over the tops of her glasses.

  ‘Oh, I’ll keep my word – I know it’s for the best,’ I assured her.

  And then she went on, ‘It seems you’re making a lot of unwarranted assumptions this afternoon. Why should I like bad boys? Why wouldn’t I like pushing you around? Isn’t that all I’ve done from the very beginning? As for our agreement, I think I made my intent quite clear when our agreement was starting. I seem to recall we said our goodbyes last weekend.’

  ‘Ah yes. That goodbye. You’re making me blush, Selina,’ I laughed. ‘But well as long as you brought it up, I’d like to clear up that cryptic text you sent last weekend. From it I gathered you felt we’d crossed over the line of being just friends a little last Saturday. I was thinking so at the time, but I didn’t want to upset you by mentioning it...’

  ‘Right,’ she said. But I don’t think she believed that last part.

  I smiled. ‘Oh, I knew even then it was just kindness on your part, and for that day only, so don’t worry on that account. However, I was thinking that by being just friends tonight we could undo any misunderstandings that may have arisen and set our new relationship up on just the right note.
..’

  She sighed. ‘How many hours did you spend coming up with all these lines?’

  ‘Not that many. Besides, after work there’s not much to do in Canvey Island except study in my hotel room, believe me.’ From the look she gave me, she didn’t believe that either. Clearly, she’s never been to Canvey Island.

  ‘anyway my dear, my last line is, where shall we dine tonight? That choice I’ll leave to you.’

  ‘What makes you think I haven’t a previous engagement?’

  ‘Oh, just a guess. I’m assuming you’d not care to make a night of it before a long trip. And, well, since I overheard you telling the girls you’d be going home to pack, I’ll ask again, where would you like to dine?’

  ‘I do have to pack for my holiday, so it can’t be a late night...’

  ‘We’ll dine early. I promise to have you home before something, other than me, turns into a pumpkin.’

  She sighed. ‘Oh, alright, Gallagher, why can’t I say “no” to you?’

  ‘Grand. And the reason you can’t say no is that I’m merely asking you, as a new but dear friend, to have a nice meal and quiet conversation. No harm in that. So, where shall we dine? The choice is yours.’

  She considered that for a moment and then said, ‘I’ll let you select the restaurant. Any ones I pick might have old memories, ones I’d rather not relive...’

  ‘Hmm. I was rather hoping that you help me out here. I know some pizza and Chinese places down Lambeth way... And two Sundays ago I had the best dim sum from a little place somewhere on Queenstown Road, but we probably don’t want to go that far afield... so that leaves only an Indian restaurant off Charlotte Street, the Jalandhar Raj. Omar Singe, who knows these things gives it his highest marks. Do you like Northern Indian cuisine? Otherwise, we can just stroll through Soho until we find one that looks interesting.’

  ‘Indian food is fine. I’ll trust Mr Singe’s recommendation, so we can settle on the Jalandhar Raj.’

  ‘Tube, bus, or walk?’

  ‘It’s early still, we can walk,’ she replied, as I’d half expected since she wasn’t wearing heels. But that was fine by me. Walking with Selina is always fine with me.

  And with that, we set out for the Jalandhar Raj, walking like good friends, no holding hands this evening or walking arm in arm. Bad boy or no, I was going to be on my best behaviour. I had to keep her trust. I kept my hands in my pockets.

  ‘How do you come by liking Indian cuisine? Mr Singe I suppose.’

  ‘Yes, Omar has sought to educate me in Indian cooking, along with a whole slew of other things for which he sees me lacking. As I may have mentioned, we prepare a meal most every Sunday, Indian cuisine being O’s specialty, my mother’s Italian cooking mine, for some of our friends each week. The custom has taught me not only to enjoy some Indian dishes, but how to prepare them as well... It’s all in the spices...’

  ‘So you cook... as well as sing and fix gadgets and who knows what other hidden talents?’

  ‘Well, unless I have missed something very important, I’m facing long, bleak years of bachelorhood. I have no intention of adding starving to that dismal prospect. Do you cook, Miss Beri?’

  ‘Like you sing.’

  ‘How delightful,’ I said, and glancing across to her, found her watching me with a rather serious expression.

  ‘I meant it is an acquired taste.’

  ‘I am looking forward to acquiring it,’ I replied.

  She shook her head. ‘Did you spend the hours waiting for me in some quiet pub, Gallagher?’

  ‘If I am intoxicated, it is merely from being close to you. All our serious talk is behind us so we can just enjoy ourselves. As I look at it, this evening we’re under the hill in Seelie Court, a time out of time. So tell me about your last day.’

  We talked as we wove our way through a purring, bustling London – the ozone smell of electric motors woven in the slanting sunlight and shadows. The Jalandhar Raj is located in a back water street south of Regents’ Park. It’s a basement restaurant, so we walked down the steps, pushed through the door and into fragrant darkness. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. We were early – the place was mostly empty. The owner, doing his bookwork at a table in the back, rose to greet us.

  ‘Greetings, Hugh,’ he said as he approached.

  I returned his greeting and turned to Beri. ‘May I introduce you to the owner, Mr Hamid Chaven. Ham, this is my friend Miss Selina Beri.”

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, Miss Beri,’ He looked at her a moment. ‘I count Richard and Sara Beri among my valued customers. Are you by chance, related to them?’ he asked, politely.

  She laughed. ‘They’re my parents.’ Then turning to me, ‘You’ll certainly score some points for bringing me here, Gallagher!’

  I gave her a puzzled look, while Hamid cast me a sly smile. ‘You’ve lost me,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll explain over dinner. However, that reminds me, I’d best call mother and let her know not to expect me for dinner.’

  ‘You must give them my regards,’ said Hamid as he led us to a booth near the back where we made our menu selection after some discussion between Hamid and Beri.

  Then, taking out her watson from her small purse, Beri tapped it on and called up a number. ‘Hello mother. I’m calling to let you know that a friend surprised me and is taking me out to dinner, I’ll be home later.... Yes, I know I have packing to do... I’ll be home before nine... I’ve plenty of time... Hugh Gallagher... yes, him...’ she cast me a wicked smile, her eyes twinkling. ‘Right, the one I spent the weekend in Cambridge with... Oh, by the way, Hamid Chaven sends along his regards... Actually, Hugh choose the restaurant. You’ve never taken me here, so I wasn’t aware that the Jalandhar Raj was one of your regular haunts... Well, I’ve got to go, mother, I will tell you all about it when I get home... Bye.’ She put away her watson with a merry smile. ‘That was fun, Hugh.’

  ‘I’m not sure what to make of all of that...’ I said with a wary smile.

  ‘Mother caught sight of our goodbye kiss last Saturday, and asked me who you were – or by implication, who you thought you were, kissing her daughter on the public street in front of our house... I had to tell her you were the friend I spent my weekend in Cambridge with. The one I don’t know anything about... She wasn’t pleased, with either you or me. Still, bringing me here might have been an unintended stroke of genius. It may raise your stock... or not. Mother’s such a snob. I get that from her... But oh, well, who I kiss on the pavement in front of our house is not really her business, is it?’ she rattled on merrily.

  ‘You seem to be enjoying giving your parents grey hairs,’ I said with a grin.

  ‘Oh, I am,’ she replied with a laugh. ‘You might want to take it as a warning... But then again, you know I like to tease. Say, how would you like to meet them tonight.... I’m sure they are just dying to meet you...’

  ‘You, my dear Selina, might be actively engaged in terrorizing your parents with me, but I think I’ll beg off of being an active co-conspirator.’ I said.

  And so we talked of this and that in the spicy, cool dimness of the Raj, of her night out last weekend, her week and upcoming holiday. I had little enough to talk about, but the conversation flowed.

  Our meal delicious, the company and conversation lively, concerning only the moment –indeed it was a time out of time... It was not yet seven when we climbed the steps into the still warm and glowing London evening. We were of one mind about it being too early to go directly home, so we turned north to just wander in the softly fading summer day along the wide avenues and leafy shadows of Regent’s Park until it was time to head to the Camden Town tube station and take it north to Golder’s Green.

  Two magic London evenings in as many weeks. Have I been blind to them all this while, or is it just what it’s like being in love?

  The rapidly deepening night found us beside that green hedge again in front of Beri’s home. We were standing close watching each other with a tend
er wariness.

  ‘Thank you, Hugh, for this evening. I've enjoyed it immensely. It was a very nice touch. I’m not as enamoured with bad boys as some girls claim to be, but still, on occasion... However, nothing has really changed and I’d really, really not be happy if you pushed your bad boy image any farther,’ she said. 'I'll be going up to Cambridge right after I get back from holiday.'

  ‘Yes, which is why this evening was my last chance. I’m sure Moss will keep me up to date on what’s going on in your life, so you’ll not be lost entirely to me. And we’ll have our studies to fill our hours, so it will all work out... Write or call when you’re settled and comfortable enough for us to see each other again.’

  Then we just stood watching each other, saying nothing, her face glowing warmly in the last ruddy glow of the western horizon.

  With an effort, she sought to lighten the mood. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come in and meet my parents? I'm sure they’d find you most interesting...’

  ‘Look behind you,’ I said quietly. I’d been watching a couple walking toward us over Beri’s shoulder, who seemed quite interested in us...

  ‘Why it’s Mother and Father!’ she said softly, and turned back to me. I could see the whiteness of her wide smile. ‘How did you guess?’

  I shrugged. ‘They seem to be staring daggers at me.... Is it too late to bolt?’

  ‘I should think so, but then again, it might make you all the more...interesting.’

  But it was too late to run, and she turned around and greeted her parents.

  ‘Hello, Mother, Father! Isn’t it just a lovely evening for a stroll? Hugh and I have been walking in Regent’s Park – such magical time!’

  ‘Good evening, Selina,’ her mother said, and looked at me, her face dim in the fading light, but light enough to see the cool distain. Her father nodded with a faint, amused smile.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve come along. I had invited Hugh in to meet you, but he was too shy... But now. Mother, Father, this is my friend, Hugh Gallagher. Hugh, my parents, Sara and Richard.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ I said, and shook Mr Beri’s offered hand. Mrs Beri just regarded me icily.

  Silence.

  ‘It is a delightful evening, isn’t it?’ I said just to fill it, the evening’s glibness gone, or so I thought. But my ancestors made me add, ‘Though you have such a lovely daughter, Mr and Mrs Beri, that it may well be Selina’s company, rather than the weather, that makes it so delightful... In fact, I’m sure it is.’

  That got right in amongst Mrs Beri, as I guess I intended it to, and she said sharply, ‘Yes she is. It is nice of you to say so, but Selina has a lot of packing to do, we’re off to the South of France tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, we were just saying our goodbyes. I have a long tube ride back to South Lambeth before me.’ Selina gave me a soft jab in the ribs with her elbow.

  ‘Then we won’t keep you. Nice meeting you, Mr Gallagher,’ she lied and turned up the path that led to their front door.

  Her father nodded and said, ‘Good night,’ and followed his wife into the rectangle of light of the open door.

  ‘What would she have done if I’d not taken you to the Jalandhar Raj and earned all those points?’ I wondered aloud.

  ‘Boggles the mind, doesn’t it?’ Selina laughed softly, turning toward me again. ‘I’m afraid you’re more than a few points in the red...’

  ‘Is it really that bad?’

  ‘Are you a loyal, lifelong Tory?’

  ‘Well, no...’

  ‘Do you have a trust fund? A title perhaps? Do your folks own a country house?’

  ‘No, no, not that I know of...’

  ‘Did you spend a weekend with me in Cambridge and were you seen kissing me last Saturday afternoon on the pavement in front of my house? Are you standing way too close to me now?’

  ‘Guilty on all counts! And it was worth any number of demerits.’ I said, reaching for her hand and pulling her even closer.

  ‘And don’t tell me you weren’t ruffling some feathers yourself a moment ago... That line about taking the tube back home to South Lambeth was particularly telling.’

  ‘Let their hair turn grey,’ I muttered, seeking her other hand.

  ‘And, by the way,’ she said, skipping back a step. ‘My mother’s certain to quiz me again about what your parents do for a living. Maybe I should tell them something, just to show them you’re not merely a casual friend?’

  ‘Somehow, I doubt they’re thinking we’re casual friends. But you can tell her that my father’s a wastewater technician for Thames Water and my mother’s a teacher, and they’re both union stewards as well...’

  ‘No! Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’ I said with a laugh.

  ‘Why you’re a gift from the gods! I’ll be surprised if their hair’s not grey by morning,’ she laughed. “I can hardly wait to tell them...’

  On the strength of being a gift from the gods, I slipped my arm about her and pulling her close, kissing her tenderly, like a really good friend, until she pushed me gently away, saying softly, ‘Knock it off, Gallagher.’

  Which broke me up. When we both stopped laughing she said, ‘I do have packing to do, Gallagher. Thanks for dinner, the evening, everything... I’ve had a wonderful time.’

  ‘And thank you for being so sweet and allowing me to cheat a little,’ I said and kissed her one last time and then gave her up.

  ‘Good night, Gallagher.’

  ‘Good night, Selina. Enjoy your holiday.’

  She disappeared into the shadows beyond the hedge to reappear briefly in the light of the opening doorway and was gone. I turned and walked away.

  P.S.

  And walked and walked the miles to South Lambeth and home, unwilling to let that sweet night go its way.

  Chapter 04 – Piece Four – Omar’s Visit