morning,” she said, revealing a brown
paper parcel. “As I was the only one around, I thought that I’d better
take it from the Postman. You also had a lovely big bunch of flowers
later, but I saw Charlie take those in.”
Bets nodded and smiled. “Oh well thank you…oh it’s
from South Africa. It must be from my aunt Beryl, you say Charlie has the
flowers then?” Charlie was the old man who lived opposite Bets, and
looked after Alfred during the day.
“Yes dear, very beautiful red roses, oh about a dozen I
would say,” Mrs Blair said, feigning disinterest.
She obviously had a good look then, nosey old devil, thought
Bets, smiley inanely.
“Well I’d better go and get them and rescue Charlie from
Alfred, bye and thanks again.”
Bets moved off quickly, anxious that Mrs Blair didn’t strike
up any further conversation. She rang Charlie’s bell and could instantly
hear Alfred barking on the other side of the door.
“Alright, young lad I’ll let her in…hello Elizabeth had a
good day?” Charlie gave the usual nightly greeting.
Alfred jumped up and tried to lick Bet’s face, but as he was
only short, a cross between a Bloodhound and Highland Terrier, he didn’t quite
make it and just looked like a sandy coloured piece of fluff on elastic, bouncing
up and down.
“Okay, calm down,” scolded Bets, gently pushing the dog
away. “I believe that you’ve got some flowers for me Charlie, what will
Edna say?” She smiled at the little man who always wore his flat cap
inside the house.
“Not a lot, she’s at her sister’s house until tomorrow,” he
tittered to himself as he shuffled into the overcrowded lounge. “Here you
are love, one bunch of red roses; they were left on your doorstep. I
noticed them when I took young lad out this morning, someone must have some
brass to buy those buggers.” He handed over the deepest shade of red
roses that Bets had ever seen.
“Gosh, they’re beautiful. Thanks Charlie, come on
Alfred let’s go home.” Bets turned towards her front door, and then
stopped. “Oh, by the way, I won’t be dropping him off until later
tomorrow, is that okay? I’m not going into work until lunchtime.”
“No problem, whenever you’re ready. Have a nice
evening then and I’ll see you tomorrow, tara now.” With that he closed
the door.
Bets let herself into the modern airy, slightly chaotic
apartment and looked around at the clothes scattered on the sofa; magazines
piled on the coffee table and paperwork spilling out of her desk drawer.
“You know Alfred, one of these days I’m going to get
Charlotte around here to organise us a little. Come on then let’s get you
fed and watered.”
Alfred followed her to the utility room, at the end of the
kitchen, where he ate and slept, ready for his supper and a nap. Once
Bets had seen to Alfred and washed up the morning’s breakfast dishes, she
realised that the roses were still not in water, but first of all, she needed
to find out whom they were from. The card just said:
“Have a lovely birthday, and hopefully an even better
evening!”
Bets was bemused by who could have sent them. The girls at
the salon had bought her perfume and a bottle of wine. Kerry would be
giving her theirs tonight, and Auntie Beryl had probably sent another
disgusting home knitted item of clothing. There was no one else that she
ever had gifts from; there wasn’t even a man in the picture who could have sent
them. She thought about it some more, as she lounged in a too hot bath,
as she put on her make up, and as she dressed in her new skinny jeans and
sleeveless shirt. By the time she was pulling on her knee-length boots,
she was right out of ideas, and Charlotte had arrived, announcing herself with
a very loud toot on her car horn. Bets grabbed her coat, kissed Alfred on
the nose and rushed out of the front door into the cold night air.
“Evening old girl; happy birthday sweetie.”
Sara Craven
Franklin W. Dixon
Marni Mann
Alyson Richman
Amanda Weaver
Stacey Espino
Elena Brown
Alan Dale Daniel
Mona Simpson
Stuart Woods