The Bow Wow Club (6 page)

– Chapter Twenty-Three –

‘You look stunning, Ruby.’ Michael kissed her on the cheek as she arrived at the Soho bar.

‘Thanks.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘It’s really good to see you.’

‘Well, that’s a good start, I guess.’ He smiled. ‘Now, what are you drinking, madam?’

‘Glass of French Sauvignon, please.’

‘Quick, go and get that free table in the corner and I’ll bring it over to you.’

Ruby took off her coat and put it on the chair behind her. She glanced over to Michael at the bar and noticed other women clocking him. He really was a good-looking man. Tall and broadset, very different to her pint-sized, dark haired George. She liked his trendy glasses and the little quiff at the front of his hair. George had never been a clothes horse, would have been quite happy just to wear his faded jeans and West Ham shirt every day if he could have got away with it.

‘So.’ Michael put her wine down in front of her and took off his coat to reveal a beautifully ironed black shirt. He smelled divine. ‘How you doing, Rubes?’

‘You know me, always all right.’

‘Well, if you’re not getting mugged or falling arse over tit in the street, that is.’

Ruby laughed. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult. It’s just, it’s so weird meeting you. I feel as if I’m being really naughty.’

‘I like naughty - and for God’s sake, if I didn’t understand I wouldn’t still be here, would I? I do have to say though I was just considering deleting your number, and then what happens, you go to Prague and text me.’

‘Really? Aw. That’s awful. Please don’t delete me.’

‘Well a man can only take so much of being ignored. I do have some pride, you know.’

‘Look, I feel like I’m ready now. I’ve been chatting to lots of my friends and they have helped me to realise that it is about time I moved on and I like you.’ She paused. ‘In fact, I like you a lot, Michael Bell.’

‘You’re not too shabby yourself, Ruby Stevens. Now, get that wine down you and we can move on to the restaurant.’

Conversation flowed freely over dinner, as did the wine.

‘You’re not wearing your wedding ring.’ Michael noticed.

Ruby shuffled in her seat. ‘No, it doesn’t quite fit.’

‘Oh.’ Michael looked disheartened.

‘Just to have it back is amazing though.’ Naively, not realising that her not wearing it made him so much happier.

‘And, anyway, if I’m going to start down this road to recovery I think the time is right now not to wear it. I mean, people might think we are married.’

It was Michael’s turn to shuffle in his seat. ‘Perish the thought, eh?’

They walked out into the freezing February air. Michael looked to the sky.

‘What are you looking at?’

‘Just checking it’s not going to snow.’

Ruby laughed. ‘Come here, you.’ She grabbed Michael round the waist. ‘I’ve been wanting to do this since New Year’s Eve.’

And on a busy Friday night on a Soho street she kissed him.

His mouth was so warm and inviting and a feeling of complete lust ran right through her. She could feel him getting hard against her and she didn’t want it to stop. It wasn’t until a car full of teenagers tooted and shouted, ‘Get a room,’ that they broke away from each other.

‘So shall we?’ Michael enquired.

‘Shall we what?’

‘Get a room, of course.’

‘I er…’

‘Don’t you be running away from me again, Ruby Stevens. And anyway, I’ve already booked a hotel.’

‘Fuck me, that’s presumptuous.’ Ruby was wide-eyed. ‘But brilliant! Come on then, let’s get naughty.’

***

Michael, despite being such a big man, was soft and gentle. He reassured her that she was beautiful, despite her being aware that she had lost her womanly curves. Their lovemaking was at first fast and furious, and then tender and loving. When they both lay back completely spent, Michael propped himself up on one elbow and pushed her fringe back off of her face.

‘Are you OK, angel?’

Ruby bit her lip. ‘Not really.’

He engulfed her in a huge warm and comforting hug as she sobbed.

‘The first time was always going to be difficult, we knew that.’

He could feel Ruby nodding beneath his strong arms.

‘That’s why I booked a hotel. Neutral ground.’

‘It’s not that it wasn’t beautiful, Michael, it was. You are bloody sex on a stick.’

‘Ssh, now.’ Michael rocked her gently in his arms and wondered what on earth he had taken on. This relationship wasn’t going to be like climbing a mountain; it was going to be like scaling the whole of the bloody Andes.

– Chapter Twenty-Four –

Michael pushed open the door to his flat. He was knackered, but so very happy. He wanted to have a siesta but knew if he wished to achieve his dream he just had to keep writing, especially with such emotion flowing through him.

My first novel – By Michael Bell - TITLE - TBD

Chapter 15:
Michael pushed open the front door quietly. Emily liked to have a lie-in on a Saturday, especially now she was pregnant. She was, however, already up.

‘Morning, darling, so how was your writing course?’

‘Really good, thanks. Feel I’m ready to finish that book I’ve always said I’ve had in me.’

‘Thank goodness for that, we might have some decent money if you can make it a bestseller. What was the hotel like?’

‘You know - nothing special. It’s not really about the luxury on these courses, more about the content. A few drinks in the bar and then bed - no more exciting than that.’

‘Well, I’m off shopping with Mother now. I’ll be back around six - thought we could get a take-out later. I’ve got a craving for spicy things at the moment.’

Michael turned on his computer. How could he be so blasé about the whole situation? His wife of two years was pregnant and here was he, spending the night with another woman. Another woman who made him feel so alive. More alive, in fact, than he had ever felt in his life. The sex had been amazing. Just kissing her in that Soho street had made him want to shag the arse off her there and then.

‘Hmm.’ Michael grunted, then sat back and stared at the computer screen. Was that too rude? He was sure he’d read that Stephen King said ‘don’t edit as you go along’. So he could worry about that later.

Loving that he had so much material now, he restarted typing.

He just wasn’t in love with Emily any more. Why had he procrastinated for so long? If he had got any balls he would have ended it six months ago, but now he was going to be a father and the responsibility of it all was suffocating.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and concentrated on something he had to deal with sooner rather than later. Valentine’s Day was coming and he had to make sure his plans were tight. Not to see Ruby just wasn’t an option.

Michael swivelled in his chair. Now what would his lady readers like to see him do? Romance didn’t always come easily to him and he knew this would have to be special.

– Chapter Twenty-Five –

Ruby pushed open the door to the church hall in trepidation. She felt as if she was embarking on a new adventure, just like when she had set herself her twelve jobs in twelve months mission a few years ago. (But that’s another story!)

However, this was even scarier. She was frightened as she knew she was about to face her own demons.

She had looked with interest on the internet last night.

The Bow Wow Club – from Struggle to Joy!

If you are the partner of a widow
or a widower, we understand.

Come along for support and advice on
how to help keep your new relationship on track.

‘Love. Love, love, love, love!’ A tall, well-built black man walked briskly towards her. Despite him being camp as Christmas, Ruby thought his wide nose and full lips made him handsome. He reminded her of the lovely dreadlocked Justice whom she had met while working at the home for retired actors, way back when she was on her twelve jobs in twelve months mission.

Since meeting Michael, she had been looking at taller men a lot more lately. Mr Bow Wow must have been in his early thirties and was dressed in a pair of trendy blue jeans, with a black round neck cashmere jumper and brown boots. She noticed how big his feet were and how the trendy tweed flat cap suited him. He whipped his hat off and threw it at a coat-stand, a perfect shot.

‘Thank God you’re here! You must be Susie?’ He had a faint Glaswegian accent. His close-cropped hair was coloured bright orange and Ruby had an urge to rub her hands through it.

‘Er… no. I’m Ruby. Called you yesterday.’

‘Ah, yes. That’s it, that’s it. Never good with names. Another kind soul to help me with all the lost ones I have to bloody deal with. We’ve been up and running for six months now and I haven’t managed to shift any of them. They all keep coming back week after week.’

Thinking,
So much for being charitable
, Ruby tried not to laugh.

‘We meet every Tuesday at eight.’ He paused. ‘And don’t be late. Ha ha ha, that gets them every time.’

Ruby had to laugh too.

‘Beautiful face, beautiful red hair. Sadness behind those eyes though. Don’t tell me you’ve lost one too?’

Ruby nodded. ‘My husband, over a year ago.’

‘Fab-u-lous. You can feel it all with them. The last volunteer was bloody useless. She was young. Spoiled, spoiled rotten. One of those silver-spooned lot, you know? I think the only thing that had ever died on her was her hair extensions. I doubt she’s even swatted a wasp in her life. My name’s Simon, by the way. Simon D.Y.E.’ He spelled it out. ‘Yes, yes, hilarious I know but that’s not why I chose to do this or my current vocation, honestly.’

Ruby wondered why, in that case, he had chosen to do this and what exactly his current vocation was. Simon took a deep exaggerated breath. Just listening to him was wearing her out. He carried on. ‘In fact, Ruby, talking of wasps…’

‘Er… were we?’

‘You have to see the gravestone that is under the old willow tree at the bottom of the graveyard. Laugh? I needed an incontinence pad! Right, let’s come to my office.’ He ushered her to the desk at the front of the hall. It didn’t really warrant the label of a hall really as it was no bigger than a larger-than-average lounge. It had windows down two sides, covered by cheap white plastic venetian blinds. She noticed a big cork board crammed with pictures she assumed had been drawn by the Sunday School kids. And, on the back of the main door there were scruffy notices of Mum and Baby Groups, Zumba classes and Stop Smoking clinics.

A picture of Jesus knocking on a door with the words
And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you
had been hung above the small kitchen area at the back of the room.

Ruby was quite taken aback when she spotted this, as she was sure Michael had used the ‘seek and find’ expression when talking about her wedding ring on a text before. She hadn’t questioned if he was religious or not. If he was, it wasn’t a problem. Everyone was entitled to have a faith. However, since George had died, it had intensified her feelings that if there was a real God He wouldn’t have ended her beautiful husband’s young life so abruptly…

Simon’s voice brought her back into the room.

‘Here is my office.’ He pointed to the messy table in front of him and sat down. ‘Now turn the heating up, Susie, honey - there’s a dial in the kitchen, back of the room. Bloody January, they are usually all more depressed than usual, what with Christmas just gone. Bugger! I forgot to bring the tissues. Expect we’ll get a few new ones too. A new year gives people a kick up the arse.’

‘Yes, it does,’ Ruby said far too quietly. And, then, without saying a word, Simon reached for Ruby’s hand and kissed it. She felt warm inside at his kindness.

‘But, aren’t they all in relationships here, or am I missing something?’ she asked. ‘I thought that this was a club to help people dating other people who had lost somebody?’

‘Just wait, Little Red Riding Whip, just wait. Right, heating on. Tea urn boiling. Custard Creams open. Yum! Seven-fifty-five, let’s rock ‘n’ roll. Oh, and I nearly forgot.’ He threw a scruffy piece of A4 lined paper at her. ‘I’ve summarised the regular miserable lot here for you. Well, more for me not to forget their bloody names and why they’re here really. So, I’ll have that back when you’re done, thanks, Susie. They hate it when I address them wrongly.’

Simon yawned and went on: ‘And, as for the relationship bit, half of them are just grieving. Just want the company. They read the bloody leaflet wrong. We are supposed to be helping people deal with relationships when they are dating someone who has lost a loved one, but we are not here to act as a lonely hearts club. However, we are almost under the Good Lord’s roof in this hall - and who am I to turn anyone away who needs His and our help.’

Despite her assumption that Simon Dye was gay, Ruby had already fallen a little bit in love with him. Not only for his madcap demeanor, but also for his shared love of her favourite biscuit. He was a hoot.

Goodness knows what would happen when people started arriving for their ‘therapy’!

Maybe laughing at death and all the sadness that it brought,
was the answer
?