Tuesday Session – A third sneak peak at my short story.

Due to lots of people showing interest on Sunday, I am now putting the third part of ‘Scrubbing Up’ on here, from my ‘Short Dates’ book ( a collection of short dating stories).

‘Can I help you?’ I said politely as I emerged from the cabinet slowly, trying to avoid hitting my head.

‘Please don’t stop on my account. I do like the look of those eclairs, though,’ he said in a deep American accent.

I was impressed by his demeanour, his voice and especially the way that he dressed. So handsome, yet casual and stylish but without a try-hard look. His teeth looked as if they were perfectly formed and his chin was chiselled in such a way that I could not help envisaging him coming behind the counter and kissing me with such vigour that we ended up falling through the glass and rolling around in a puddle of squashed baked goods.

He was extremely pleasant when he ordered his food and drink. We chatted comfortably as I prepared his coffee, joking about the strange noises coming from the percolator. My passing fancy was soon over and he was sat, reading a magazine at the table by the door. I had tried to sneak a peak at what he was reading but wasn’t quite able to tell from where I stood. Walking over to clean the nearby table, I tried to show an interest in what turned out to be a movie magazine.

‘Oh a movie fan, huh?’ I nodded as he put down his Empire magazine and smiled at me sweetly.

‘Such a movie geek, aren’t I?’ he replied as I swept past, putting my hand out to lean on a table. To my horror, when I put my hand out, I had leaned too far and missed the edge of it altogether. In a whirling mess, I fell suddenly to the floor. Smash! Crash! The crockery in my hands fell with me dramatically.

The next thing I knew he was on the floor patting me down and offering me a hand up. The look of concern on his face told me that I had probably injured myself. It also suggested that he seemed to care. A smile, which was a combination of awkwardness and strange satisfaction spread across my cheeks as I got up slowly, then realising that I had cut my left hand on a broken plate. His arm around my shoulders, as he pulled up a chair, was enough to distract me from the pain, momentarily.

He grabbed a clean napkin and quickly wrapped it around my wound, insisting that I raised my hand up while he called out to Mark, the baker, to bring him a first aid kit. I felt so well looked after as he replaced the napkin gently with a sterile dressing and took time to check my arm for other injuries. I asked him how he knew what to do and he told me that he was a doctor who had just moved to Cambridge to work in the hospital.

This just made him seem more dreamy. He had come to my rescue and seemed to be perfect in every way. I was a little smitten as I sat there drooling over him, whilst nursing my bleeding hand and bruised ego. It was good to have an excuse to get to know him better on what apparently was his only day off this week.

Sunday Session – A second sneak peak at my short story.

Due to the success of yesterday’s segment, I decided to publish the next instalment of my ‘Scrubbing Up’ story which is from my book, ‘Short Dates.’

My boss was in this morning and she was always fun to be around. She had been doing a stock check and when the café became quiet she told me to pull up a pew and sit with her for a while, drinking latte. Glynis always spoke about dreams and ambitions. She had a master plan which ended up with her buying a quaint riverside café in Paris, in which she would enjoy the champagne culture and soak up the general Parisian way of life. I could easily see her with a glass in one hand, reading an erotic novel in the other and hiding behind sunglasses while secretly checking out the passing men.

‘So what do you really want to do with your life?’ she said suddenly.

‘Well I want to explore what I can make with my music,’ I replied honestly.

‘How can we make that happen?’

‘If I knew that then I would have tried it by now,’ I answered rapidly.

‘We have to go for those things we dream about. I reckon I have found a way to help you there.’

She went on to tell me about a new friend of hers who worked at a music venue in town. I was excited to hear that she had asked her friend if I could go for an audition there, to see if I may be able to perform some songs one night. I was taken aback as she had never mentioned anything like this before. It was lovely that she had noticed my interest in music and thought to find a way for me to try out my singing skills with a real live audience. I crossed my fingers and toes and returned to work as the customers began to roll in again.

The counter soon became a mess and I decided I was going to clean the smudges from the inside of the glass which housed the cakes. Preparing a cloth, I leaned into the counter and began to scrub. It was fairly dirty and I had to use some elbow grease to make an impact on it. Most of it cleared quickly and I was ready to finish the job off and do something else.

To my annoyance, one small mark would not disappear on that flaming glass. It began to test me. The more I rubbed it with my cloth, the more stubborn it seemed to become. I pressed hard with plenty of soap, yet still it would not budge. Before long I was on my haunches, giving it everything I had, working up a sweat and determined to not be defeated by some crusted blob of curdled lemon.

Making circles of smudge as I carried on, I found myself staring hard at the mark, wishing it gone. I blinked and suddenly it seemed to vanish. In its place was a pair of blue, radiant eyes, looking back at me curiously. The eyes belonged to a hot looking guy who looked to be about my age. I had never seen him before, though he seemed recognisable. Maybe I had met him in my dreams. I kicked myself for thinking such rubbish.