Dinner For Two + One
‘James?
‘Yes, is that you Angela?’
‘You mean you don’t recognise my voice, James. I realise it’s been four years.’
‘What, since you let me down at the last moment on Christmas bloody day?’
‘Oh, come on James that was four years ago. Is this going to be held against me forever?
‘Tell me, dear girl when was the last time you ever cooked a Christmas dinner? I imagine that this is the reason for this call after all this time.’
‘Look how many times have I got to apologise for heaven’s sake.’
‘In number – a lot.’
In truth the last time she pulled out at the last minute worked out okay. I invited the old boy from next door instead. He’s been at my table every year since. In fact, I have invited him again this year. He’s a taxi driver in the city, never married and he has no family. I’ve always wondered if he was gay. You know - for no other reason than he lives on his own, (like me you might say). But he’s never given me any cause for concern.
I only invite him at Christmas. I refer to him as the old boy but I doubt if he is more that five years older than me. He’s a bit worn around the edges but he’s well-scrubbed up – well has to be working in the city I suppose. Since the second year he always brings me a bottle of Scotch. Doesn’t wrap it up. Do I care?
‘Well, dear girl, is this call to precipitate an invitation for Christmas dinner?’
‘No not entirely.’ She couldn’t help herself from an embarrassed giggle which I could have done without. ‘Please, pretty please James if you can find it in your heart after the last time, that is.’
‘The answer is yes. But you had not better let me down again. I don’t care if Rod Stewart or the Prince of Wales makes a counter offer. If you are not ringing my doorbell at one-thirty on Christmas Day I will hunt you down. Understood?’
Her giggle broke out into a full throated laugh.
‘Oh James, you are such drama queen, aren’t you?’
‘I’m deadly serious Angela. Oh, and by the way I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘What? You haven’t bought a dog, have you? I could just see you with a dog I really could.’
‘No.’
‘A cat then. I like cats.’
‘Honestly, I’m still petless and will die that way. Now get off the line and go and get your hair done. It looked a mess if memory serves me.’
‘You really can be so horrid at times. But I still look forward to spending Christmas day with you. You really are so kind. Bye James.’
With that she was gone. If she is good to her word she is in for a surprise. Her fellow diner will be a rather large taxi-driver from Jamaica.
About the author
Robin short stories have appeared in CafeLit both on line and in print on a regular basis. He has also entered various writing competitions but has yet to get past being short listed.
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