Annie Christie's That Long Hot Summer
Episode Three
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: Daniel receives some strange packages, but he finally asks the lovely Shelley for a date.
Swearwords: None.
Description: Daniel receives some strange packages, but he finally asks the lovely Shelley for a date.
One day, it was a Tuesday, Daniel came home and there it was. On his doorstep. A package so huge that he could hardly get to the front door to put his key in the lock. He was amazed. On so many levels. Firstly, that the parcel hadn’t been robbed. He had no evidence that he lived in a ‘bad’ area, but he had thought that if you left something big and moveable outside all day it wouldn’t be there long. He tried to pick up the package. Not that moveable then. What was it?
He struggled his way inside and laid it down in the ironing room. And read the label.
‘Congratulations, you have won third prize in our competition.’
He’d forgotten all about the competition. What the hell was the third prize?
He man-handled the package into the house and took it through to the back room where he began the mammoth task of unwrapping it.
A greenhouse.
He might have laughed. But it wasn’t funny, was it. A flipping 8x 10 greenhouse. He looked out into his back yard. 7 foot by 5 would be being charitable. Certainly no room to erect a greenhouse.
He thought about sending it back. How would he even go about that? How did you refuse a prize – even a third prize? No. He couldn’t do that. So what could he do?
And then it happened. He had a brainwave. Well, at least an idea. When he was a kid he’d really enjoyed playing with Meccano. And this was… well… just like a giant Meccano kit – with glass added. Daniel sat down on the floor with the instructions, which were both visual and in what seemed to be a variety of languages, but even the English appeared tinged with a level of Chinese, and started to build.
Two hours later he was standing inside his greenhouse which was standing inside his dining room/ironing room. The ironing board was standing inside the greenhouse – there was nowhere else to put it just now and he didn’t have the heart to take it down - and it was a job well done. In a strange way, it kind of suited the room.
‘Better than lights,’ he said to himself. And remembered the lights. And Shelley. He should at least tell her he won the competition. After all, she gave him the answer. Maybe he could pluck up the courage to invite her home – to see it. His palms began to sweat. Maybe not. He wasn’t ready for that yet. But he should be polite and tell her…
~~~
An hour later he stood at the checkout. The place was, mercifully, quite empty and Shelley was on the checkout. Before he could say anything she spoke.
‘They’ve come,’ she said.
‘What?’ he said. Confused.
‘The Lights,’ she said. ‘They’ve come.’ She took a box out from under the counter and handed it to him.
‘Is that what you came for?’ she asked.
‘Yes, no, uh…’ he said.
‘Peace,’ she said.
‘What?’ he answered.
‘Did you come to tell me how the peace lily and the euphorbia and all those other plants are doing? It must be some collection you have there now.’
He didn’t know what to say.
‘I love a plant lover,’ she said.
Now he really didn’t know what to say. But knew he couldn’t say nothing any longer.
‘No, uh, I came to say thanks. For the competition. I won third prize.’
‘Third Prize,’ she said. ‘Shame.’
‘Why?’ he said.
‘I was banking on a trip to Mauritius with you,’ she said.
‘Really?’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘I mean, I thought you might not have anyone else to go with and…’
‘Well it was third prize,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
‘No, no need to apologise,’ she said. ‘A greenhouse must be just what you needed with all those plants.’
‘It’s… yes… I…’
‘I’d love to see it one day,’ she said.
‘It’s not finished yet,’ he said.
‘No? Oh, well, you know. When it is,’ she said.
‘Yes. Okay,’ he said.
‘But don’t leave it too long,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘This is my last day working here,’ she said. ‘All good – and bad – things must come to an end.’
‘Oh.’
He was stumped. He really wanted to see her again. Even though seeing her scared him off the Richter Scale. But even he could see that this was the time for him to do something. DO. SOMETHING.
‘Can I see you again?’ he asked.
‘Only if you know where I am,’ she answered. She wasn’t making it easy for him. She was going to make him work. He pulled himself together.
‘So where will you be?’ he asked.
‘I’ll be at the Lowry Centre on Sunday afternoon at 3pm,’ she said. ‘On the steps.’
‘Okay,’ he said.
‘I’ll be waiting,’ she said.
‘I won’t make you wait,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there.’
‘It’s a date then,’ she said. ‘Daniel.’
‘Yes, it’s a date, Shelley,’ he replied. He was about to walk off and she called him back
‘Don’t forget the lights.’ She held out the box to him. He took it from her. Their hands brushed together.
‘See you Sunday, Daniel,’ she said. And smiled.
And his face tried to smile back.
‘See you,’ he said. He couldn’t get the words ‘look forward to it’ out because while on the one hand it was everything he ever wanted, on the other hand it was his greatest fear. But it was Sunday. This was Tuesday. He had time to prepare himself.
~~~
On his return home Daniel knew he had to get the house looking reasonable. In case Shelley came back. He didn’t think he’d have the courage to ask her, but from what he knew of her already he believed she was quite as capable as Mike of inviting herself back and he did want to make a good impression.
He tried moving all the plants into the greenhouse. It just looked odd. He moved them back again. He turned the heating down a bit. He was sweating beyond endurance. Something had to give. To give himself some time he opened the lighting box. Maybe the lights would hold the answer.
He got a surprise. They were the wrong lights. He’d ordered a couple of uplighters and this was a long string of a sort of fairy light – LED’s they were but they bore a strong resemblance to Christmas tree fairy lights. And it was only April. He should take them back. But he couldn’t go back to the shop tonight. And if he went tomorrow, Shelley wouldn’t be there any more. It would be so difficult to explain to someone else. So he was stuck with the lights. What to do with them?
Another brainwave. He draped them round the greenhouse and switched them on. It created something of an interesting ambience the way they reflected off the glass panes. He liked it. It gave him another idea. If he had a table in here, he could turn this into a sort of dining space. Quirky, but he reckoned Shelley might be into quirky. What else could he do? She would want to see the plants. She would want to see the greenhouse. She would think he was mad, wouldn’t she? Maybe, Daniel, he told himself, that is a risk you are just going to have to take.
~~~
On Wednesday he asked Mike for advice. Well, Mike was pushing him on the subject of a house-painting party and it kind of slipped out that he’d got a date with Shelley. Mike was over-joyed. And desperate to give good advice. Which was not really good advice in Daniel’s mind.
‘You’re meeting her at an art gallery?’ Mike asked in an incredulous tone.
‘Yes,’ Daniel replied.
‘Do people under 60 go to art galleries?’
‘It was her choice,’ Daniel said. ‘And it’s outside the Lowry Centre so we may not go in.’
‘Oh, I think you’ll be going in, bud,’ Mike said. ‘At least to the café. The theatre probably won’t be open on a Sunday..’
‘Theatre?’ Daniel asked. He hated theatre. Frankly the whole world of theatre scared him rigid. It was so unreal. Worse even than the cinema.
‘Yeah, they have a theatre and café and art gallery and…’ for someone who never went to art galleries, Mike seemed to know a lot about this one. Daniel felt he had some catching up to do.
‘Google it buddy and see what you’ve let yourself in for,’ Mike said.
Daniel did better than that. He went on a reconnaissance mission. After work on Wednesday.
He always felt more comfortable when he felt familiar. So he went and stood outside the Lowry Centre. It was busy but not that bad. It was a nice open space and he was sure he wouldn’t miss Shelley even in a crowd. That was a plus point. Of course if it was raining she might decide to wait inside… so he went inside to check that out as well. It was darker, but quite spacious and while it made him feel a bit more uncomfortable, he was glad he’d done it now so that it wouldn’t be so strange the next time. He made himself move around in the foyer even though there were throngs of people getting ready to go into the theatre. It wouldn’t be like that on a Sunday afternoon, he told himself. It would be lighter. It was only the art gallery. Or the café. And – it was Lowry. He realised that he knew something about Lowry. Matchstalk Men and Matchstalk Cats and Dogs. Something from his childhood. Comforting. Familiar. He could handle Lowry on Sunday. He knew he could. If that was what it took to spend time with Shelley. He just had to keep convincing himself it would all be all right.
~~~
He came home on Friday to discover yet another strange delivery on his doorstep. This time it wasn’t a prize and it definitely wasn’t something he had ordered. There was a note on it. It simply said – feel the grass beneath your feet.
It was five rolls of turf. Turf? What did he want with turf? Was it real – or astro-turf? It looked like some kind of weird hybrid stuff. He had no way of knowing. And there was no packaging receipt to send it back anywhere. He struggled into the house with it, planning to take it out to the back yard. But it came on to rain. He had another brainwave. And laid the turf. Where he could feel the grass beneath his feet. He assumed it was Mike playing a prank. But he’d have to wait till Monday to ask him about it. And he was focussed fully on Sunday and Shelley, so Mike and his jokes would have to wait.
He struggled his way inside and laid it down in the ironing room. And read the label.
‘Congratulations, you have won third prize in our competition.’
He’d forgotten all about the competition. What the hell was the third prize?
He man-handled the package into the house and took it through to the back room where he began the mammoth task of unwrapping it.
A greenhouse.
He might have laughed. But it wasn’t funny, was it. A flipping 8x 10 greenhouse. He looked out into his back yard. 7 foot by 5 would be being charitable. Certainly no room to erect a greenhouse.
He thought about sending it back. How would he even go about that? How did you refuse a prize – even a third prize? No. He couldn’t do that. So what could he do?
And then it happened. He had a brainwave. Well, at least an idea. When he was a kid he’d really enjoyed playing with Meccano. And this was… well… just like a giant Meccano kit – with glass added. Daniel sat down on the floor with the instructions, which were both visual and in what seemed to be a variety of languages, but even the English appeared tinged with a level of Chinese, and started to build.
Two hours later he was standing inside his greenhouse which was standing inside his dining room/ironing room. The ironing board was standing inside the greenhouse – there was nowhere else to put it just now and he didn’t have the heart to take it down - and it was a job well done. In a strange way, it kind of suited the room.
‘Better than lights,’ he said to himself. And remembered the lights. And Shelley. He should at least tell her he won the competition. After all, she gave him the answer. Maybe he could pluck up the courage to invite her home – to see it. His palms began to sweat. Maybe not. He wasn’t ready for that yet. But he should be polite and tell her…
~~~
An hour later he stood at the checkout. The place was, mercifully, quite empty and Shelley was on the checkout. Before he could say anything she spoke.
‘They’ve come,’ she said.
‘What?’ he said. Confused.
‘The Lights,’ she said. ‘They’ve come.’ She took a box out from under the counter and handed it to him.
‘Is that what you came for?’ she asked.
‘Yes, no, uh…’ he said.
‘Peace,’ she said.
‘What?’ he answered.
‘Did you come to tell me how the peace lily and the euphorbia and all those other plants are doing? It must be some collection you have there now.’
He didn’t know what to say.
‘I love a plant lover,’ she said.
Now he really didn’t know what to say. But knew he couldn’t say nothing any longer.
‘No, uh, I came to say thanks. For the competition. I won third prize.’
‘Third Prize,’ she said. ‘Shame.’
‘Why?’ he said.
‘I was banking on a trip to Mauritius with you,’ she said.
‘Really?’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘I mean, I thought you might not have anyone else to go with and…’
‘Well it was third prize,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
‘No, no need to apologise,’ she said. ‘A greenhouse must be just what you needed with all those plants.’
‘It’s… yes… I…’
‘I’d love to see it one day,’ she said.
‘It’s not finished yet,’ he said.
‘No? Oh, well, you know. When it is,’ she said.
‘Yes. Okay,’ he said.
‘But don’t leave it too long,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘This is my last day working here,’ she said. ‘All good – and bad – things must come to an end.’
‘Oh.’
He was stumped. He really wanted to see her again. Even though seeing her scared him off the Richter Scale. But even he could see that this was the time for him to do something. DO. SOMETHING.
‘Can I see you again?’ he asked.
‘Only if you know where I am,’ she answered. She wasn’t making it easy for him. She was going to make him work. He pulled himself together.
‘So where will you be?’ he asked.
‘I’ll be at the Lowry Centre on Sunday afternoon at 3pm,’ she said. ‘On the steps.’
‘Okay,’ he said.
‘I’ll be waiting,’ she said.
‘I won’t make you wait,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there.’
‘It’s a date then,’ she said. ‘Daniel.’
‘Yes, it’s a date, Shelley,’ he replied. He was about to walk off and she called him back
‘Don’t forget the lights.’ She held out the box to him. He took it from her. Their hands brushed together.
‘See you Sunday, Daniel,’ she said. And smiled.
And his face tried to smile back.
‘See you,’ he said. He couldn’t get the words ‘look forward to it’ out because while on the one hand it was everything he ever wanted, on the other hand it was his greatest fear. But it was Sunday. This was Tuesday. He had time to prepare himself.
~~~
On his return home Daniel knew he had to get the house looking reasonable. In case Shelley came back. He didn’t think he’d have the courage to ask her, but from what he knew of her already he believed she was quite as capable as Mike of inviting herself back and he did want to make a good impression.
He tried moving all the plants into the greenhouse. It just looked odd. He moved them back again. He turned the heating down a bit. He was sweating beyond endurance. Something had to give. To give himself some time he opened the lighting box. Maybe the lights would hold the answer.
He got a surprise. They were the wrong lights. He’d ordered a couple of uplighters and this was a long string of a sort of fairy light – LED’s they were but they bore a strong resemblance to Christmas tree fairy lights. And it was only April. He should take them back. But he couldn’t go back to the shop tonight. And if he went tomorrow, Shelley wouldn’t be there any more. It would be so difficult to explain to someone else. So he was stuck with the lights. What to do with them?
Another brainwave. He draped them round the greenhouse and switched them on. It created something of an interesting ambience the way they reflected off the glass panes. He liked it. It gave him another idea. If he had a table in here, he could turn this into a sort of dining space. Quirky, but he reckoned Shelley might be into quirky. What else could he do? She would want to see the plants. She would want to see the greenhouse. She would think he was mad, wouldn’t she? Maybe, Daniel, he told himself, that is a risk you are just going to have to take.
~~~
On Wednesday he asked Mike for advice. Well, Mike was pushing him on the subject of a house-painting party and it kind of slipped out that he’d got a date with Shelley. Mike was over-joyed. And desperate to give good advice. Which was not really good advice in Daniel’s mind.
‘You’re meeting her at an art gallery?’ Mike asked in an incredulous tone.
‘Yes,’ Daniel replied.
‘Do people under 60 go to art galleries?’
‘It was her choice,’ Daniel said. ‘And it’s outside the Lowry Centre so we may not go in.’
‘Oh, I think you’ll be going in, bud,’ Mike said. ‘At least to the café. The theatre probably won’t be open on a Sunday..’
‘Theatre?’ Daniel asked. He hated theatre. Frankly the whole world of theatre scared him rigid. It was so unreal. Worse even than the cinema.
‘Yeah, they have a theatre and café and art gallery and…’ for someone who never went to art galleries, Mike seemed to know a lot about this one. Daniel felt he had some catching up to do.
‘Google it buddy and see what you’ve let yourself in for,’ Mike said.
Daniel did better than that. He went on a reconnaissance mission. After work on Wednesday.
He always felt more comfortable when he felt familiar. So he went and stood outside the Lowry Centre. It was busy but not that bad. It was a nice open space and he was sure he wouldn’t miss Shelley even in a crowd. That was a plus point. Of course if it was raining she might decide to wait inside… so he went inside to check that out as well. It was darker, but quite spacious and while it made him feel a bit more uncomfortable, he was glad he’d done it now so that it wouldn’t be so strange the next time. He made himself move around in the foyer even though there were throngs of people getting ready to go into the theatre. It wouldn’t be like that on a Sunday afternoon, he told himself. It would be lighter. It was only the art gallery. Or the café. And – it was Lowry. He realised that he knew something about Lowry. Matchstalk Men and Matchstalk Cats and Dogs. Something from his childhood. Comforting. Familiar. He could handle Lowry on Sunday. He knew he could. If that was what it took to spend time with Shelley. He just had to keep convincing himself it would all be all right.
~~~
He came home on Friday to discover yet another strange delivery on his doorstep. This time it wasn’t a prize and it definitely wasn’t something he had ordered. There was a note on it. It simply said – feel the grass beneath your feet.
It was five rolls of turf. Turf? What did he want with turf? Was it real – or astro-turf? It looked like some kind of weird hybrid stuff. He had no way of knowing. And there was no packaging receipt to send it back anywhere. He struggled into the house with it, planning to take it out to the back yard. But it came on to rain. He had another brainwave. And laid the turf. Where he could feel the grass beneath his feet. He assumed it was Mike playing a prank. But he’d have to wait till Monday to ask him about it. And he was focussed fully on Sunday and Shelley, so Mike and his jokes would have to wait.
About the Author
Annie Christie is a pretty ordinary person, except that she was born Annie Christie and then married a man called Christie and so is still called Christie despite having taken on her husband’s name. She sometimes wonders if she should have called herself Christie-Christie: but who would believe that?
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
That Long Hot Summer is Annie's third McSerial written for McStorytellers.
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
That Long Hot Summer is Annie's third McSerial written for McStorytellers.