Nibbling Fortuna's Toes

"What are you going to do about your wet trousers?"

"I have a spare pair in the car. I'll nip into the gents' toilet and change."

"You could change in the car, I wouldn't mind," Laura said.

"I could, and have, but there isn't much room."

"What's that?" Laura said, pointing.

"That's Rye. An old walled town."

"Can we go there?"

"Of course. When?"

"Now? The beach is great but if I'm here I'd rather be swimming. What is there in Rye?"

"There's a castle tower, some of the walls, an old church and ancient streets."

"Come on then, I've had enough beach."

I changed my trousers and we drove the few miles to Rye. Laura loved it. We had lunch in an old pub and wandered around for hours.

The journey back to London was even slower than going. We were stationary in Tonbridge for about twenty minutes while commuters poured away from the station in their cars.

Back at my house we decided to eat at the Italian restaurant again because we were both too tired to consider cooking for ourselves.

I drove Laura back to the flat so she could be ready for early duty the next day. It had been a perfect introduction to each other.

+++

My relationship with Laura developed slowly over the next few months, partly because her shift work and studies didn't coincide with my free time. When we were together we enjoyed each other's company, but too often we couldn't meet. Towards the end of the year working on her studies became essential ahead of an examination just before Christmas.

Both of us were temporarily broke. Laura was spending on expensive medical books. I had been offered the bomb site next to my house for a bargain price. I had taken out a short term bank loan to finance that, and was trying to repay it as quickly as possible.

I was often in the women's flat either waiting for Laura to return from work or spending a few minutes before she went off for another shift. While there I had serviced all their sash windows so that they no longer rattled in a wind or let in draughts. I had done a few more maintenance tasks in the flat so that the three women were more comfortable.

During the autumn I helped Beatrice and Emily practise their driving. They had lessons with a professional driving instructor. I had put all three women as drivers on my car insurance. They were nervous about their driving abilities and worried about passing the driving test. They shouldn't have been. They were competent and careful. The two learner drivers had booked their tests for early January, scheduled within an hour of each other. Emily and I would wait while Beatrice took her test, and Beatrice and I would be in the test centre's waiting room while Emily took hers.

During December I was with Beatrice and Emily far more often than Laura. I didn't notice the disparity that much. I knew that Laura was busy, and I enjoyed the short times we had together. A few times I had collected her from the hospital. Twice in one week I had Laura crying in my arms as yet another patient had died on her shift. She was suffering from the strain of the impending examination and the increased workload as more patients were admitted.

It didn't help that the weather had been cold and wet. Laura and I couldn't go out for even half a day. We spent time on the settee of the flat with me holding her nursing text books and asking questions to test her for the examination. I also spent hours on that settee with Beatrice or Emily, sometimes both of them, testing them on the Highway Code.

Other times I might be sitting with any one of the three in Angelo's cafe. He always greeted Beatrice with enthusiasm, but Emily and Laura were also very welcome there.

I was being stretched at work. One of my colleagues had gone into hospital for an operation. I was trying, and failing, to cover his work as well.

All four of us were stressed, irritable and sensitive to any adverse incident. Laura wanted to spend Christmas with me at my house yet her parents wanted her to come home for a family Christmas because the whole family would be there.

+++

Unfortunately I had to work right up to Christmas Eve while many people were taking a longer break. The three women would have several days off. Laura would work her last shift on Saturday night.

The Sunday before Christmas was a disaster.

At 7 am that morning Bella from the cafe was knocking at my front door. I had just finished breakfast. I was due to see Laura at the flat at 11 am.

"Derek, please can you help us?" she said.

It was obvious she had been crying.

"What's wrong?"

Bella blurted it all out in a rush.

"It's Angelo's mother. She's had a heart attack. She's in hospital. She's asking for Angelo, her youngest bambino. The family don't think she'll live more than a couple of days. Angelo has booked a flight from Heathrow to Genoa but there's a transport strike. He can't get to the airport. Can you?"

"Of course I can, Bella. I'll have to telephone and leave a message for Laura. Can I do that from the cafe?"

"Yes. If we go now we should have plenty of time."

I grabbed a coat and started my car. I parked it outside Angelo's cafe. He was standing inside the door with a small suitcase.

"He needs the telephone," Bella said.

"Over there, Derek."

I rang the flat. Emily answered. I told her I was taking Angelo to Heathrow. I asked her to give my apologies to Laura. I'd be back as soon as I could but not before about one o'clock. Emily gave me, and Angelo, her love.

I loaded Angelo's suitcase on to the back seat and we set off for Heathrow. Even though it was a Sunday the traffic was heavy. We crawled along the A4. Angelo's flight check-in was at 12 noon. We ought to have enough time and to spare despite the congestion.

We arrived at Heathrow. By the time we walked into the concourse it was 11.15 am. But Angelo's flight, like many others, was delayed by fog over Europe. The incoming flights were two or more hours behind schedule, and the departures were being delayed as well. The estimated departure of his flight should have been 1 pm, with check-in at noon. It might be leaving at 3pm with check-in at 2.

Angelo was worried. His brother would be meeting him at Genoa airport. I told Angelo that his brother would know as much as we did, and would wait if necessary. After several cups of airport coffee Angelo was still worried. I told him to ring Bella to let her know what was happening, and if possible, for her to ring the flat to tell Laura I'd be very late.

When he came back he was less stressed. His brother had rung from Italy. Their mother was in less immediate danger, still poorly, but likely to survive for a week at least. Beyond that, the doctors weren't sure, depending on test results still being analysed. So Angelo wouldn't be too late despite the flight delays.

I suppose I should have rung the flat directly to talk to Laura. There was a simple explanation. I had intended to get cash from my bank on Monday. The car parking charges had taken most of my coins. I had a couple of pound notes.

Angelo's flight was ready for check-in earlier than we had feared. As soon as he had passed through to the departure lounge I went back to my car and started driving back to London, heading for the women's flat.

The traffic congestion was even worse on the way back. It took me a couple of hours to travel a few miles. I arrived at the flat at a quarter to seven. I rang the door bell. Beatrice answered the door.

"Derek! You can't come in. There's a crisis upstairs. Laura and Emily are in tears. I can't explain now. They need me. I'll see you at the cafe in an hour. Go!"

"But the cafe might be shut..."

"If it is, I'll come to your house. But go! Now! If they see you the shit will really hit the fan. Go!"

I went, wondering what had happened.

The cafe was open but not serving meals. Bella was coping on her own with teas and coffee.

"Thank you, Derek," she said. "Angelo has telephoned from Italy. He arrived safely and is on the way to see his mother. She's complaining about the hospital food. That sounds as if she's feeling better."

"Better? I hope she is. Beatrice is coming here. There's something amiss with Laura and Emily. I can't think what. They were OK when I last saw them on Wednesday evening."

"Beatrice is a sensible woman even if my Angelo likes her legs too much. I'm sure she'll sort it out. Coffee?"

By the time Beatrice arrived I was on my third cup of coffee and had eaten a piece of Bella's wonderful cakes.

Beatrice sat down beside me with a sigh. Bella was making the special tea that Beatrice likes.

"What's up?" I asked.

"What isn't?" Beatrice replied. "I'm glad I haven't got a boyfriend at present. Laura and Emily are arguing because Alan has dumped Emily."

"Why should..."

Beatrice pressed a finger to my lips.

"Shut up, and listen. I've had enough of arguing people today. Right. This is the situation. Alan thinks that Emily has been two-timing him with you..."

I started to protest. Beatrice's finger stopped me.

"...and they argued about it at lunchtime. I was out doing some training and came back to find both of my flatmates in tears and yelling at each other. Emily's denials hadn't satisfied Alan who had stormed out of the flat. Laura thought there must be some truth in Alan's accusations so she was very unhappy with you. Going off with Angelo to Heathrow was a 'betrayal' according to Laura. She's not thinking straight. This morning, despite being Sunday, was her last examination and it was harder than she thought it would be. She wanted to come back and cry all over you. But you weren't there, and Bella's message meant you wouldn't be for hours."

Bella brought Beatrice's tea.

"Thank you, Bella. How's Angelo's mother?"

"Improving, we think. Angelo will let me know when he's seen her. I'm expecting him to telephone in a couple of hours."

"Give him my love, please, Bella."

"I will, but not in those words, Beatrice. You know what he's like."

"I do, Bella, and I know he loves you. The flirting is just words because he tries to pretend he's an Italian stallion."

Bella laughed.

"You're right. It is a pretence. If you expected him to live up to his words he'd run a mile."

"Straight back to the woman he really loves -- you."

"I know he does, Beatrice. But you need to talk to Derek. If you want more tea, just tell me."

"Thank you, Bella."

"Where was I? Oh yes. As far as I can work out Laura made some passing comment earlier this week, while Alan was there, that Emily was seeing more of you than she was. That wouldn't have mattered if it hadn't been true, and that Alan and Emily were already arguing about some unimportant detail about Christmas.

It seems to have stuck in Alan's mind, and he accused Emily this morning of preferring you to him. If they had asked me, I would have said that I had been with Emily every time we were with you. But I was out. When I came back, it was too late. Alan had gone and Emily was in tears. Alan had met Laura on the doorstep and told her he had broken up with Emily because of you. Cue for arguments between Laura and Emily which had been going on for some time when I returned.

Neither of them was amenable to reason. I kept telling both of them that when you saw Emily it was Emily AND Beatrice and you had behaved as you usually do with friends. Alan's rejection had given Laura enough to accuse you.

Before you arrived, they had both decided to go home for Christmas. They were packing. Laura would run Emily home and then continue on to Hayes. Laura left a message for me to pass on to you when and if you arrived. But you arrived before they had gone. In the state they were in your presence might have started them off again, and Laura might have said something unforgiveable. So I told you to go away.

They've now left. Laura's message is "You have to choose between me and your friends". I think I know what your answer will be, but it's up to you. Whatever you respond, she won't get it until the New Year when she comes back. So? What would you answer?"

"Beatrice," I said slowly, "You know me too well. You know what my answer has to be. I will have to choose my friends, including you, Emily, Bella and Angelo. I hope Laura will find out that it's all a misunderstanding, and that Alan will too, but if not? I wouldn't be me if I let my friends down. I'm sad for Laura, sad for Emily and Alan, but maybe they'll find out the truth. A few days' break might be good for all of them."

"I knew you'd say that, Derek. Thank you. I am pleased to keep you as a friend, and no more than that."

"I still like your legs, Beatrice."

She giggled.

"So does Angelo."

"Back to reality, Beatrice. You and Emily have driving tests shortly after the New Year. I'll be there for both of you, whatever Laura and Alan might think. It's a shame that Emily has gone away. We could have practised in almost empty streets around Christmas."

"I think she'll manage. She's a good enough driver now."

"So are you. Both of you should pass easily as long as you don't make a silly mistake."

"That's always possible, but we have had good instructors, both the professional and the amateur."

Beatrice reached forward and stroked my cheek.

"Sometimes, sometimes, I wish we had more in common, Derek. But we don't have. We are still friends."

Bella arrived, bringing more coffee and tea, to hear Beatrice's last few words.

"And he is a good friend, Beatrice. I wish there were more people like him."

"I'm no saint," I protested.

Beatrice and Bella kissed my cheeks. I was embarrassed until I saw that the cafe was empty except for the three of us.

"You'll do as a substitute until I meet a real one," Beatrice said.

"You will," Bella said. "Someone who shares your interests as well as appreciates your legs."

Bella sat down with us. She looked quizzically at Beatrice. Beatrice took the hint and explained what had happened between me and Laura. I went to the cafe's toilet while they talked.

When I sat down again I was hugged by both of them. Bella broke off to answer the telephone. From her expressions I could tell it was Angelo. A few minutes later she came back to us.

"Angelo's mother is OK. She, and her family, have had a scare but it seems there was no permanent damage. She'll have a few more years yet. Angelo will be back on Wednesday evening..."

"I'll collect him from Heathrow," I said."

"Thank you, Derek. I gave him Beatrice's 'love'. I won't repeat exactly what he replied, but he thanks you, Beatrice. He is sorry he missed seeing your lovely long legs."

Beatrice stretched out her legs.

"I like them too," she said.

"So do I," I replied.

"Angelo would like to see them so much that he has invited you two to spend Christmas Day with us, for a traditional Italian Christmas meal. You will accept, won't you?"

I looked at Beatrice. She nodded slightly.

"Thank you, Bella. We accept with pleasure," I said.

"Apart from Angelo and me, there will be my daughter Gemma and her twin boys."

"Boys?" Beatrice sounded interested.

"Too young for you, Beatrice," Bella laughed. "They're eleven years old, football mad, and typical Italian boys. They think women are a nuisance."

"Football mad?" Beatrice turned to me. "Have you got a football, Derek?"

"Yes. Why?"

"If you bring it, we can take the boys to the park and I'll show them that women can play football."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Derek."

"That would help, Beatrice." Bella said. "The boys would be in the way while Gemma and I are cooking."

"Not Angelo?" I asked.

"No. He cooks for the cafe but a traditional Italian Christmas meal is best done by women." Bella replied.

Soon afterwards I drove Beatrice back to the empty flat. On the way she suggested that she should stay with me after the Christmas meal, if she could use the spare room? I would drive her to her parents' house on Boxing Day when public transport was sparse.

+++

The few days before Christmas were boring. I was working hard and failing to cover two people's work. It was nice that the bosses recognised my efforts with a larger than normal Christmas bonus, but I didn't like being unable to do everything promptly. The Christmas bonus meant that I would clear the bank loan as soon as I could get to the bank in January.

Beatrice and I had lunch together. She was feeling lonely in an empty flat. She hadn't had any contact with Emily or Laura. What depressed her most was the pile of presents under the Christmas Tree. There were presents from me to all three women; presents from Alan; presents to me, including a large one from Laura -- and they would sit there unopened to the New Year.

I collected Angelo from Heathrow on the Wednesday evening. His mother had gone home from hospital with strict instructions to let her daughter-in-law produce the Christmas meal. I felt sorry for that daughter-in-law. Angelo's mother prides herself on her cooking.

+++

I collected Beatrice from the flat on the morning of Christmas Day. She was wearing jeans and boots, but had her party wear in a suitcase with her overnight essentials. I parked my car, put her suitcase in my house, and we walked to the cafe. Beatrice had transferred her party wear to a carrier bag.

The twin boys, Julio and Augusto, weren't impressed with the idea of playing football with Beatrice and me, but their mother Gemma told them to get out of her way. Their names were because they were born either side of midnight on 31st July and 1st August.

In the park we set up a small goal of piled bags. Beatrice told the three of us to be goalkeepers. She would try to score past us.

She did. It was embarrassing. She seemed to produce the ball from impossible angles or above our heads.

She demonstrated dribbling as we tried to tackle her. We failed, again and again. By this time the twins were beginning to appreciate that Beatrice knew far more about football than they did. She turned the kick-about into proper coaching. By the time we had to go back to the cafe the twins thought Beatrice was the greatest woman they had ever met.

At the cafe she disappeared into the ladies toilet. A surprisingly short time later she emerged, high-heeled, in her shortest mini-dress with glossy tights on her long legs. Angelo couldn't take his eyes off Beatrice's legs. The three women laughed at him.

That meal was wonderful. We enjoyed ourselves, stuffed ourselves with great food washed down with Italian wine, and finished off with Italian ice-cream made by Gemma. In the early evening her husband Roberto joined us. He is a sous-chef in a West End hotel and had been cooking traditional Christmas lunches for the guests. Angelo and Bella were obviously proud of their son-in-law. The twins were competing to tell their father what a marvellous footballer Beatrice was, so much so that she was blushing.

When Beatrice and I left, there was a flurry of hugs and kisses. To their parents' surprise, the twins wanted to hug Beatrice too. As Bella showed us out, she said:

"The twins surprised me. Normally they keep well away from women, and don't like the Italian habit of kissing everyone."

"But this is Beatrice," I replied before she could. "She has wonderful legs -- for football."

Beatrice pretended to hit me.

"Thank you, Bella," Beatrice said. "We have enjoyed ourselves."

I added my thanks but was interrupted by a strong hug from Bella.

"That's what friends are for -- enjoying each others' company."

Beatrice and I walked back to my house holding hands. For the first time in days we felt happy. As we got to my front door, Beatrice lifted our entwined hands to look at them.

"This is a sign we are friends," she said. "We are nothing else."

"I know, Beatrice," I replied. "You're a great friend, and I need a friend now Laura seems to have dumped me. Come in, and find the spare bedroom. You can lock it on the inside, but you won't need to."