Who Wants to Live Forever? (16 page)

BOOK: Who Wants to Live Forever?
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When Trish went to wash her hands just before we left, I took the opportunity to ask Debbie out again. “I was hoping you’d ask,” she said. “Same time, same place?” I agreed, quickly changing the subject as we saw Trish return; somehow, it now seemed as if we were doing something wrong, and I had to admit it made it all the more exciting, although I also felt a smidgeon of guilt for going behind Trish’s back.

As I was walking home Trish’s car drew alongside. She wound the window down and said, “We haven’t had a chance to talk tonight, not just the two of us. I wondered, would you like to meet again for a drink on Friday night?”

“Yes, I’d love to. I was hoping to be able to ask you, but you were right, we were never alone.”

I sauntered home, feeling like the proverbial cat who had not only got the cream, but found it to be double-strength. I didn’t feel guilty about double-dating, as it was still just two people going out as friends as far as I was concerned, albeit kissing friends. I had no trouble sleeping and, this week, no thoughts of murders impinged on my consciousness.

***

Friday night soon arrived, and I once again met Trish in the quiet town-centre pub. It wasn’t as empty as it had been a week earlier, but we were still almost in the position of being able to choose which half of the lounge bar we wanted exclusive use of.

After buying the drinks, we sat down and Trish said, “I thought on Tuesday night that you weren’t going to ask me out again. I wondered what I’d done wrong. I was so happy when you accepted my invite.”

“Of course I wanted to ask you out, but not while Louise was there. Once she’d left, I didn’t feel it was appropriate to ask you out in front of Debbie. I mean, I know we’re still all just friends, but…well, you know.”

“The kiss, you mean? Yes, Debbie might not have understood. Especially if something happened when you took her out on Saturday night.”

“No, nothing happened. All we seemed to talk about was the course, and I don’t think I know any more about her than I did before we went out.”

“Good, I’m glad.” Trish paused for a moment, before saying, “But I hope you don’t mind if
we
talk about the course a little?”

I was surprised, but tried not to show it. “No, not at all.”

“I want to ask you about something that Louise mentioned. I was intrigued by what you both said, in fact.”

“Go on, then, fire away.”

“Louise is obviously convinced that she has discovered something really important. To be honest, I was beginning to wonder if she did have some sort of problem. Call it OCD if you like, but it certainly seems like an obsession. And obsessions are
never
healthy. But then you said you believed she was really on to something. Were you just saying that to be kind?”

“No, I wasn’t. I can’t really explain it very well. It’s just that there’s something about all this that seems very odd. I know it sounds daft, yet in a way it seems that Louise is right if she thinks there’s something unnatural about all this. I know all about the arguments that it’s just a string of coincidences, but I think it’s more than that. And Louise is
so
passionate about it — yes, to the point of it becoming an obsession — that she’s beginning to make me feel there’s something to it.”

Trish looked down at her glass for a minute, obviously deep in thought. “Perhaps, perhaps not,” she said after musing on the matter. Then she smiled, and said, “Okay, that’s enough about the course. We know about our tastes in music after last week, but what about television? What sort of programmes do you like?”

“Television, eh? Now this is a tricky one. You see, I’m not one for soaps, or reality TV shows. Are you?”

Trish looked a little disappointed. “What, not at all? Not even one?”

“I used to enjoy
Brookside
, when it was the Trevor Jordache ‘body under the patio’ murder.”

“Yes, and I’ll bet you enjoyed the lesbian kiss scene there as well. Why do men get excited about things like that?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the thought of two gentle females being together, with nothing rough and unpleasant happening. After all, if there’s a sex scene in a film, blokes will only look at the woman. With a lesbian scene, they don’t have to avert their eyes at all.”

“Yeah, no doubt they refuse to watch out of envy. Most men seem to lose the ability to count in that area. Or perhaps they answer in centimetres instead of inches.”

“Quickly changing the subject. Yes, Anna Friel. I do remember
that
kiss. It was an iconic moment in television history.”

“What about reality TV, Ethan? Isn’t there
anything
about it that you like?”

“Not really. I hate
The
X Factor
and programmes like that.”

“How can you not like
The
X Factor?
” Trish went on to list a host of names that meant absolutely nothing to me, and I found my mind wandering as the evening progressed. I was almost relieved when it was time to go our separate ways, and, although the goodnight kiss was just as pleasant as our first kiss a week earlier, I felt as if something had been lost during the previous hour or so.

***

I was apprehensive before meeting Debbie at the coffee bar the following evening. Having looked forward to my date with Trish so much the night before, and then being ultimately disappointed at the outcome, I feared that tonight might go the same way; I needn’t have worried.

“We didn’t really get to know much about each other last week, did we?” I asked as we sat down with our drinks.

“No, we didn’t. That was my fault, sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I really am glad that you want to come out with me on a Saturday night. A lot of men prefer to stay in and watch football.”

“I like football, don’t get me wrong, but if it comes to the choice between watching a game on the box and having a drink with an attractive woman — well, it’s no contest.”

“Flatterer,” she said, but I could tell that she was pleased. “So, if you aren’t glued to
Match of the Day
all the time, what do you watch? I assume you do have a TV.”

This was the key moment, right at the beginning of the evening. Was I sitting with another reality-soap aficionado? “Yes, I do have a set, but I’m not an avid watcher. For a start, I’m not into soaps or reality programmes, although I did watch
Come Dine With Me
before I came out tonight.”

“Come dine with me? Are you asking me out? If I say
yes
do you promise not to take me to a tapas bar? I don’t think I’d feel comfortable there after what we’ve heard about this week.” I laughed, and relaxed a little. “I’m a bit like you, I suppose,” she continued. “Give me a good documentary any day of the week. I much prefer factual programmes to that stuff they put on that professes to be entertainment. I suppose I was one of the people who loved the old BBC2, when you could watch the Royal Ballet.” I smiled as she said this, causing her to respond, “Yes, I know, I don’t look like the sort who’d enjoy culture, do I?”

“No, that isn’t it at all. I was smiling because it reminded me of an old episode of
Steptoe and Son
.”

“Oh, I used to
love
that programme.”

“I don’t know if you remember the one, then, but Harold divided the house by installing wooden panels. He tried to make his half upmarket, and decided he wanted to watch the ballet on television, which was part in his half and part in Albert’s. But Albert had the controls on his side, and as he wanted to watch a horror movie, that’s what they ended up watching.”

“Oh, yes, I remember it. It isn’t that I’ve a great memory, but I watched the box set not too long ago. So comedy is your thing, is it?”

“I like to think so, but my daughter would probably disagree. She’d tell you that I’m a devotee of crime shows, and it’s true, I suppose. I do love detective programmes, and I watch everything from Sherlock Holmes through to
Castle
.”

“Sounds like she knows you well. After all, you’re proving yourself to be a bit of a sleuth now, aren’t you? You’re certainly taking what Louise says very seriously. By the way, what did you say your daughter was called? Julie Walton or something like that, was it?”

“You
do
have a good memory. I only think I mentioned her married name the once.”

“I’m just observant, that’s all. She sounds like a lovely girl, anyway, from what you said about her. It’s a shame she lives so far away.”

“Yes, it is. If she’d still been living in Lancashire, she’d have dragged me along kicking and screaming to the course that first night. I wasn’t really too sure about coming, if truth be known, and it was probably only because I’d promised her I’d come that I did.”

“It’s a pity she isn’t from round here. I would have loved to meet her.”

“She’s coming home for a few days at the end of the month. Perhaps,” I added, hesitatingly, “you could meet her then?”

“Taking me home to meet the family, are you? Interesting. The end of the month, did you say? Perhaps I will.”

We chatted some more about our interests and I was amazed at how much we seemed to have in common. It was fair to say that we conversed at an intellectual level that had been lacking the evening before. After finishing our coffee, Debbie suggested we go and have something stronger to drink, and we ended up in the same hostelry that I had frequented with Trish twenty-four hours earlier. I did notice the barmaid casting some strange glances in my direction, but I chose to ignore them; after all, what was wrong with going for a drink with people from my course?

My only disappointment from the evening came as we prepared to leave. Debbie’s eyes had glazed over once or twice while I was speaking. “I’m not boring you, am I?” I asked.

“No, of course not. I’m just a little tired. It’s nothing to be concerned about. It’s quite late for me, really. I’m very busy at work, and, as I don’t normally go out at night, I’ve been feeling like this ever since the course began. I’ll be fine once I get some rest.”

I felt that she was telling the truth, and it
was
much later than I had realised. Once she had again assured me that there was nothing for me to worry about, I took her arm and we left the bar. She turned to kiss me goodnight, but when, once again, she placed a soft peck on my cheek, it was far removed from the passion of Trish’s goodnight kisses. But, as I consoled myself while I drove home, there would be plenty more opportunities to meet and progress our relationship; somebody like Debbie was worth waiting patiently for, and I realised I had come to a decision about which of the two women I wanted to be with.

Chapter Thirteen

Debbie — Sunday 13
th
November 2011

Debbie flicked through the channels on the television looking for something that might interest her.
Such a shame
, she thought,
that I had to miss ‘Strictly’ last night
. But she hadn’t had much choice, not if she wanted to see Ethan. She knew he was interested in her, but he was also interested in Trish. It was a good job that he’d primed her by saying he didn’t like soaps and reality shows; at a guess, they were the sort of things that Trish
did
enjoy, and no doubt she had told him all about them on their date. Oh, yes, their date. Ethan thought he was being clever, but the tell-tale signs were there; not least the look on the barmaid’s face when they had entered that pub. Women stuck together at times like this, and the barmaid had been quite prepared to fill in all the details while Debbie was buying her round of drinks.

Still, that was only to be expected. For now, she had Ethan’s interest, thanks mainly to her invented love of culture rather than trash. She had a knack of knowing what to say and when to say it, and it came from years of experience of studying people. Knowing everything about those around you was a skill that took time to learn, but it was well worth putting the hours in. Hadn’t he been pleased when she remembered his daughter’s name? There’d been some interesting developments after that; things could have turned out very differently. A new craving rose in her breast, quite unlike the one that had plagued her over the last few weeks; this one was quite bearable.

Yes, she was very observant, as she’d told him. She had watched Ethan carefully, week by week, and knew how to play him. The demure goodbye peck on the cheek at the end of the evening, for instance.
Leave them wanting more
, that was the tactic; it would ensure Ethan would remain interested. And as long as she had his attention, she was in control.

And with that control, she could now take action to get
her
out of the scene. What she’d learnt this week meant that it was way past time to do something about her. She was going to enjoy doing that.

Chapter Fourteen

Week 8 — Accrington — Stabbing

Tuesday 15
th
November 2011

I was about to leave for the course when the phone rang. It was Julie.

“I’m just on my way out. Can I ring you later?”

“It won’t take a minute, Dad. I won’t be in when you get back home as I’m going to a works function with Dave. It’ll probably go on until the early hours. I just rang to let you know about Gary.”

“What about him?” I said, unable to keep the concern from my voice.

“It’s good news. He’ll be back for Christmas after all. He told me on Skype last night.”

I sighed with relief. “That
is
good news. I wasn’t expecting to see him again until Easter. I’m proud of what he does out there, but I’m always worried about what might happen when he’s on the other side of the world.”

“Me too. Oh, and I know the schedule for the conference now.”

“The conference…you mean the one in a couple of weeks?”

“Yes, that’s right. My advertising presentation, remember? I wasn’t sure which day I’d be involved, as it’s a three-day event, but the programme’s been confirmed now. I’m presenting my campaign on the opening day, Tuesday, so I’ll be travelling up after work on the Monday.”

“That means you’ll not be here till late on Monday, then. Tell you what, we’ll go out together on the Tuesday night.”

BOOK: Who Wants to Live Forever?
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