Page 5 of A Family Affair
Jesus. He’d seen more subtle face contouring on the drag queens in the gay village in Manchester. And those lashes. And what the hell was wrong with her lips? It looked like she was permanently blowing him a kiss.
‘My mate Steph just dropped me off. Been staying with her for a bit just down the road. In Marple. I’m between digs so it made sense to meet here. Now, shall we get the drinks in? My treat. What are you having?’
Levi had managed to mutter, ‘Coke please,’ then she was off up to the bar leaving him in shock.
He knew it was a mistake right there and then. He was the one that should’ve legged it but no, once again, soft lad was far too polite. Which waspreciselywhy he’d been pestered into the date with that… that prosecco-guzzling lush who, after scoffing a three-course meal, and draining her glass, had excused herself and buggered off to the ladies. And never came back.
Why hadn’t he realised what she was doing?
‘Just texting my friend to say it’s going great. It’s what we do, you know, when we’re on a date. Better safe than sorry. Not that I go on lots of dates, mind you. I’m very choosy, me.’
Levi should’ve known she was texting her friend, telling her to order a cab. And then Wendy (was that even really her name?) had the nerve, the bare faced cheek, to order a vodka and coke, presumably while she waited for her ride home to arrive. He remembered the ding, not fifteen minutes later, and Wendy looking at the screen and smiling. ‘Ah, bless her. She says to say hi and hopes we’re having a great time and she gets to meet you very soon.’
Yeah, right. More likely it was the Uber saying they were outside. He’d felt such a fool, sitting there waiting. Trying to be gentlemanly and not wondering if Wendy was doing a number two, and how they’d gloss over how long she’d been when she came back.
In the end, he’d asked the barmaid if she’d go and check on Wendy, just in case she wasn’t well. For all he knew she might have been chucking up her garlic king prawn starter, her fillet steak and triple-cooked chips main, with an extra side of onion rings and her double-choc brownie and Cornish ice cream dessert!
Levi wasn’t sure who looked more embarrassed. The barmaid or him. It was bad enough when she approached the table to say the toilets were empty, but when he had to pay the bill, she couldn’t even meet his eye. Not that he’d wanted to because he could feel her pity-rays from where he sat, as she held the machine and the ping of his contactless payment chimed out,loser.
In the relative shame-free zone of his car, Levi rested his head and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths in the hope it would calm his smouldering temper.
He was usually a mild-tempered man, prided himself on it in fact, but some things just did his head in. Like customers being rude to staff in any situation. Litterbugs. Freeloaders called Wendy.
In testing situations, Levi’s default was a tip he’d learned from listening to a radio interview with a motivational therapist. The woman had advised that in every negative you had to find a positive.
Like that morning when he’d run out of his favourite coffee and instead of it ruining his day, he’d said, ‘But on the upside, I have my emergency bag of sachets I’ve collected from all the motel rooms I’ve stayed in this year. Waste not want not.’
It was all going great until he opened the fridge and the milk had gone off.
Not giving in to the thought that someone was trying to tell him something, or that he should’ve stayed in bed, Levi attempted some positive thinking.
So the date was an utter disaster, and his debit card had taken a bashing. But at least the pub had been empty and the two early birds in the corner left before Wendy did. The fish pie had been very good, one of the best he’d had in a while actually. And, during his wait, he’d read all the posters on the noticeboard and one of them was advertising a car-boot sale the following month. Levi liked a rummage. And… and… nope. That was it. No more positives.
Tutting, Levi decided nothing was to be gained from sitting in the car park of the aptly named Lost Stag, trying to conjure positives from a shitty Wednesday, stuck in the middle of bloody nowhere. Inserting the key in the ignition, he started the car and as he did, one more positive popped up.
That if this experience was anything to go by, never mind all the other useless dates he’d wasted his time on, he might as well ditch his dating app and resign himself to the inevitable. Being undatable. And at least he’d save some money.
Without further thought, Levi took out his phone and jabbed the app and after less than thirty seconds of navigating the site, had deleted his profile and cancelled his subscription. ‘Bye-bye Wendy. Bye-bye pub on the hills. Bye-bye Levi the loser.’
Feeling proactive, he started the engine and decided to take the thirteen-mile scenic route back into the city. It was his week off and he had plenty of time on his hands. So, he’d wasted one day, but there were four more to enjoy before he went back to work and nothing was going to put a dampener on his well-earned break.
At the car park exit, seeing the sign for Marple to the right, Levi shuddered. No way was he going anywhere near Wendy-Ville. In the opposite direction was Valley Mills. It was a small, canal-side industrial town he’d heard of but never visited. Levi indicated left and headed there.
CHAPTER4
Ignoring the hoots from the van driver behind him, Levi had just about managed to steer his limping, almost powerless car into the side of the road and after a juddering, spluttering last-ditch surge, it gave up the ghost and conked out.
Resting his head on the steering wheel Levi groaned, ‘You havegotto be kidding me. Here, right now, seriously?’
Looking up, he knew there was nothing for it and that someone somewhere really did have it in for him. So once again, he pulled out his phone. Scrolling, he found the number of the breakdown service and took his place in a virtual queue.
Forty-five very long minutes later, Levi knew he was in for another wait. Two hours approximately, the lady on the other end advised. Been a busy day, she’d said.
Puffing out his cheeks, he disconnected and with nothing else to do, took in his surroundings. On his journey along the meandering peak roads, Levi had become familiar with the sandstone mill cottages that dotted the route and the hillside, and the Victorian mills that nestled in the valley below.
He was parked slap bang in the centre of the high street and the shops that lined either side were a higgledy-piggledy mismatched row of sturdy retailers and later additions. One in particular caught his eye. Honey’s Place. The exterior wood of the double-fronted café was painted sage green, the door a contrasting deep cream and hung in the upper glass pane, a sign.Welcome.
The little bell that tinkled above his head caused the woman wiping down a table to turn and smile, then wave her hand, indicating nowhere in particular, ‘Hello flower, ’fraid there’s only me on at the mo. I’ll come over and take your order when I’ve done this. Find yourself a seat and I’ll be with you in a tick.’ Her voice had a Derbyshire twang, and her name badge told him her name was Lizzy.
