Annie Christie's That Long Hot Summer
Episode Four
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: Daniel and Shelley meet at The Lowry in Salford. Will their first date go not with a bang but a whimper?
Swearwords: None.
Description: Daniel and Shelley meet at The Lowry in Salford. Will their first date go not with a bang but a whimper?
Sunday, two forty-five on the dot, Daniel was standing outside the Lowry Centre waiting for Shelley. Sunday two fifty-five on the dot, Shelley arrived. It was a relatively sunny day, not much wind and not too many people hanging around.
‘Shall we go in?’ she asked.
‘If you like,’ he said.
‘Sure,’ she said. It was, after all, what they’d come for.
He held the door open for her on the way in. Old school politeness. She accepted it. No new world aggro-feminism from Shelley. That was good.
‘Have you been here before?’ she asked.
‘No. Yes. No,’ he replied.
There was only the slightest quizzical look on her face. He felt he should explain.
‘I mean, I’ve not been in, well, I’ve been in, well, I came and checked it out in advance during the week,’ he said.
‘Ah, I do that too,’ she said. ‘Do you have this thing about going to places for the first time?’
‘Yes,’ he confessed, ‘I do.’
‘Sound,’ she said.
‘And,’ she carried on, ‘if you don’t mind my asking, do you have a problem with people asking questions all the time?’ She smiled.
‘Sometimes,’ he said. ‘People. People I don’t know.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry if I ask a lot of questions. It’s just cause I want to get to know you and I don’t know how to do it except by asking questions. Will you forgive me?’
‘Nothing to forgive,’ he said. ‘I believe it is quite normal.’
‘Normal?’ she said. ‘I thought we had to say neuro-typical these days.’ She laughed.
‘My brother used to say that,’ he said.
There was a moment’s silence.
‘Well, shall we go up to the galleries?’ she asked. ‘I mean, I’d like to. If you’d like to… See I can’t live without questions.’
‘I’d like to,’ he said.
So they went up the escalator. Shelley first. She turned round to talk to him on the way up.
‘It’s just first date syndrome,’ she said.
‘What is?’ Daniel asked.
‘Ha,’ she said – ‘got you, you asked the question there.’
‘You’re right,’ he said, ‘I did.’
‘But what is first date syndrome?’
‘All this asking of questions,’ she said. ‘I’ll get over it soon enough. When I know more. I need to know more to feel comfortable and…’
Daniel was still taking in the fact that they were on a date. Of course, he’d sort of imagined that was what she was asking when she asked him out, but you could never be sure. Now it was clear. She’d said it. They were on a date. He couldn’t help it, that racked the pressure up.
‘Are you okay?’ she said.
‘Yes, yes,’ he dismissed it. ‘Just, you know, a date. I wasn’t sure…’
She took his arm. ‘Yes, Daniel. We are on a date. Together. And I for one am having a good time.’
‘Me too,’ he said, and nearly convinced himself. He was having as good a time as he remembered having with another person. But the benchmark wasn’t high.
She held onto his arm as they stood at the entrance to the galleries.
‘Do you like Lowry?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, truthfully.
He was trying not to panic about the choices. There was no obvious place to start. That worried him.
‘Where do we start?’ he asked. It was a sign of his panic that he asked a question.
Shelley smiled. ‘Just anywhere,’ she said. ‘It’s an adventure.’
Ah. Adventure. Daniel wasn’t sure that he liked adventures. They seemed to carry something of risk and jeopardy about them.
Shelley could see his reticence.
‘We just dip in and out as we like,’ she said. ‘I think it was Ruskin who suggested that one should just drop in and out of art galleries and museums, taste a bit here and there, rather than go for the full banquet.’
‘Okay,’ he said.
‘It was me who added the food bit,’ she said, ‘not Ruskin. I’m paraphrasing but the idea is the same. It’s to stop us being overwhelmed.’
‘Okay,’ Daniel replied, wondering if he looked as overwhelmed as he felt.
‘They’ve changed it all round since last time I was here,’ she said. ‘So we’re both in the same first time boat. Let’s be brave and dive in.’
‘Okay,’ he said.
She took his arm again and they went into the room which told of Lowry’s life. Side by side they manoeuvred their way round the room, reading the information boards and looking at the pictures. In silence. Daniel remembered that art galleries, like libraries, were places where silence was not only welcomed, but positively encouraged, so he began to calm down. Though he was trying to take the information in in case Shelley started asking questions.
‘What did you think?’ she said as they stood at the end of the gallery, preparing to take on another room.
‘I think he was a lonely man,’ Daniel said.
‘Yeah, I guess so,’ she said. ‘But I think he was happy enough in himself, most of the time.’
They went into the industrial gallery. Half way round, Daniel saw a picture he recognised. Really recognised. He stopped, stock still. He knew there was something about Lowry he remembered. It was this. The picture was a famous one, Coming From the Mill.
‘We had that picture at home,’ he said.
‘Really?’ Shelley said.
‘Yes,’ Daniel replied. ‘I never really thought about it. That it was a Lowry you mean.’
‘And did you like it?’ she asked. ‘As a child?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I really did. I really felt..’
‘Connected?’ she asked.
‘Not really,’ he said, ‘just that I understood something by it. About it. It made sense. I used to really enjoy looking at it.’
‘It’s a crowd but all the people are isolated,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Daniel replied. ‘Everyone seems on their own. I understood that.’
‘Do you still?’ she asked. Then pulled herself up. ‘Sorry, it’s the demon questions again. I’ll stop them in a minute.’
‘It’s okay,’ he said, ‘I don’t mind you asking questions.’ And he smiled, hoping she believed him. It was partly true. He didn’t want to mind her asking questions. He wanted to trust her, it was just… trust was so hard to imagine.
‘Look,’ she said ‘Here’s a quote which kind of sums it up. And she read ‘all my people are lonely, and crowds are the most lonely thing of all.’ He’s right, don’t you think?’ she said.
‘I suppose so,’ he said. ‘I try not to think about it.’
‘What, about loneliness?’
‘About everything,’ he said. He felt he’d run out of steam. She seemed to notice.
‘Shall we go and have a coffee?’ she asked. ‘I mean, I’d quite like to sit down and you look a bit…’
He wanted to ask a bit what, but didn’t feel brave enough.
‘… a bit tired,’ she said. ‘I think we should do as Ruskin suggests and call it a day with Lowry for now. We can come back another time – can’t we?’
Was that her asking for another date? It was certainly a positive move. He weighed it up. He knew it was going well, even though he still felt the knot in his stomach.
‘A coffee would be nice,’ he said.
They went to the Tower Coffee Bar. It wasn’t busy. Daniel noticed it was just forty minutes till closing time, and couldn’t help feeling a bit relieved. Even though this wasn’t strictly speaking an ordeal, it would be over soon enough. He began to think about what would happen once they left the Lowry at 5 pm. But he couldn’t plan that far ahead.
‘They sell Grumpy mule coffee here,’ Shelley said.
‘Is that good?’ he asked.
‘It’s Fairtrade,’ she said, ‘so that is good.’
There was something of an inflection in the statement. She was asking him if he approved of Fairtrade. He didn’t think about it that much, but yes, on principle he thought it was a sound enough idea.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it is.’
She nudged him playfully.
‘See,’ she said, ‘we have so much in common.’ And smiled.
He wasn’t sure that was true. Time would tell. But it was nice that she was being nice. That she wasn’t acting like he was making her work hard. He was making her work hard, he felt. He wasn’t giving much away. He wanted to, but… it was outside his comfort zone. His comfort zone was very small.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked him as he sat watching the pattern swirl on the top of his coffee cup.
‘That it’s like you’re blowing into a balloon,’ he said.
‘Sorry?’ she said. ‘I don’t get that.’
‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘I mean, like, I’m the balloon, most of the time, a kind of small and wrinkly balloon and you come along and you blow into it, sort of, well, kind of gently and you kind of blow some air into me and make me… well, feel a bit…’
‘Fatter?’ she teased.
‘A bit more like a proper balloon,’ he said. He looked at her. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You know what, I totally get it. Well, probably not totally, but a bit.’
Silence.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
‘What for?’ he replied.
‘For saying that. For sharing. I know it’s not easy.’
‘It’s not easy,’ he agreed. He went out on a limb. ‘I wish it was. I like you Shelley.’
‘I like you too, Daniel,’ she answered.
They drank their coffee.
‘Do you ever think,’ she said, after a suitable time in silence, ‘that conversations are like some kind of bizarre game.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I do. And I never really know the rules.’
‘There are rules, of course,’ she said. ‘But you know what, I think we can make up our own rules. We don’t have to be bound by the ones everyone tells you are right. We could invent our own rules. If you like.’
‘I wouldn’t know where to start,’ he said.
‘We’ve started already,’ she replied.
‘Have we?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We are learning about each other, through language of course, but by so much more. And I know that you don’t like questions and you know that I ask questions to compensate and if we both agree that being quiet isn’t a problem and that sharing what we think, while scary, is still safe because we are friends, then…’
‘I talk too much,’ she added.
‘I don’t talk enough,’ he said.
‘It’s just there’s so much to know,’ she said. ‘I’m interested in you and…’
‘It’s five o clock,’ he said. ‘They’re shutting up the café.’
They got up and left the building.
On the steps outside Daniel prepared himself for the awkwardness. Of how to end this. How to go away. How to stop. How to leave. Part of him was aching for time alone again and a bigger part told him he didn’t want to see Shelley walking away, catching a tram, going wherever it was she was going, because he didn’t know, because he hadn’t asked her any questions and he didn’t know anything about her so if she went now he would probably never see her again and if he wanted to see her again, which he did, he needed to do something – and quickly. Breathe, Daniel, Breathe.
‘I’d love to see your plants,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Would you feel comfortable with me coming back to yours?’ she asked. ‘I could cook you dinner. I like to cook.’
And risk-averse Daniel decided it was time to take a risk.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’d like that.’
He said it and he felt a moment of utter panic. What had he done?
‘But not just now?’ she asked, obviously seeing the fear in his eyes.
‘It’s just…’ he started.
‘No, I understand,’ she said. ‘I sort of sprung it on you. How about Friday? Are you doing anything Friday night?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have my dinner cooked by you!’
She laughed. ‘See,’ she said, ‘I knew you were a funny guy.’
‘I’m not a funny guy,’ he said, ‘believe me. Well, not in the way you mean.’
‘You’re great,’ she said. ‘ What do you like to eat?’
‘Not pizza,’ he replied.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I hate pizza too. What is it with people. They all act like pizza is the best thing in the world and if you don’t like it… ice cream too. I hate ice cream.’
‘Any kind of cream,’ he added.
‘You’re right,’ Shelley agreed. ‘A ban on pizza and cream. I can cook pretty good Chinese food, if you’re interested?’
‘Really?’ he said. ‘I kind of live on take-aways at the moment. I haven’t got round to…’ there was no point carrying on. ‘My house isn’t really geared up for visitors yet,’ he said.
‘Yet, or ever?’ she asked.
‘To be honest, I don’t know,’ he replied.
‘Well, I’m not a visitor,’ she said, ‘I’m a friend. So I’ll be fine. Shall we say Friday, your place at 7 pm?’
‘Yes, okay,’ he said.
She kissed him on the cheek and set off running.
‘I haven’t given you my address,’ he called out after her, hoping no one else was paying attention.
She turned again, ‘I know where you live,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you Friday.’
And she was gone.
He walked back to his house, not exactly with a spring in his step, but his balloon felt a little bit pumped. It didn’t deflate until he put the key in the front door and looked around the house. What had he done? He only had four days to prepare…
‘Shall we go in?’ she asked.
‘If you like,’ he said.
‘Sure,’ she said. It was, after all, what they’d come for.
He held the door open for her on the way in. Old school politeness. She accepted it. No new world aggro-feminism from Shelley. That was good.
‘Have you been here before?’ she asked.
‘No. Yes. No,’ he replied.
There was only the slightest quizzical look on her face. He felt he should explain.
‘I mean, I’ve not been in, well, I’ve been in, well, I came and checked it out in advance during the week,’ he said.
‘Ah, I do that too,’ she said. ‘Do you have this thing about going to places for the first time?’
‘Yes,’ he confessed, ‘I do.’
‘Sound,’ she said.
‘And,’ she carried on, ‘if you don’t mind my asking, do you have a problem with people asking questions all the time?’ She smiled.
‘Sometimes,’ he said. ‘People. People I don’t know.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry if I ask a lot of questions. It’s just cause I want to get to know you and I don’t know how to do it except by asking questions. Will you forgive me?’
‘Nothing to forgive,’ he said. ‘I believe it is quite normal.’
‘Normal?’ she said. ‘I thought we had to say neuro-typical these days.’ She laughed.
‘My brother used to say that,’ he said.
There was a moment’s silence.
‘Well, shall we go up to the galleries?’ she asked. ‘I mean, I’d like to. If you’d like to… See I can’t live without questions.’
‘I’d like to,’ he said.
So they went up the escalator. Shelley first. She turned round to talk to him on the way up.
‘It’s just first date syndrome,’ she said.
‘What is?’ Daniel asked.
‘Ha,’ she said – ‘got you, you asked the question there.’
‘You’re right,’ he said, ‘I did.’
‘But what is first date syndrome?’
‘All this asking of questions,’ she said. ‘I’ll get over it soon enough. When I know more. I need to know more to feel comfortable and…’
Daniel was still taking in the fact that they were on a date. Of course, he’d sort of imagined that was what she was asking when she asked him out, but you could never be sure. Now it was clear. She’d said it. They were on a date. He couldn’t help it, that racked the pressure up.
‘Are you okay?’ she said.
‘Yes, yes,’ he dismissed it. ‘Just, you know, a date. I wasn’t sure…’
She took his arm. ‘Yes, Daniel. We are on a date. Together. And I for one am having a good time.’
‘Me too,’ he said, and nearly convinced himself. He was having as good a time as he remembered having with another person. But the benchmark wasn’t high.
She held onto his arm as they stood at the entrance to the galleries.
‘Do you like Lowry?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, truthfully.
He was trying not to panic about the choices. There was no obvious place to start. That worried him.
‘Where do we start?’ he asked. It was a sign of his panic that he asked a question.
Shelley smiled. ‘Just anywhere,’ she said. ‘It’s an adventure.’
Ah. Adventure. Daniel wasn’t sure that he liked adventures. They seemed to carry something of risk and jeopardy about them.
Shelley could see his reticence.
‘We just dip in and out as we like,’ she said. ‘I think it was Ruskin who suggested that one should just drop in and out of art galleries and museums, taste a bit here and there, rather than go for the full banquet.’
‘Okay,’ he said.
‘It was me who added the food bit,’ she said, ‘not Ruskin. I’m paraphrasing but the idea is the same. It’s to stop us being overwhelmed.’
‘Okay,’ Daniel replied, wondering if he looked as overwhelmed as he felt.
‘They’ve changed it all round since last time I was here,’ she said. ‘So we’re both in the same first time boat. Let’s be brave and dive in.’
‘Okay,’ he said.
She took his arm again and they went into the room which told of Lowry’s life. Side by side they manoeuvred their way round the room, reading the information boards and looking at the pictures. In silence. Daniel remembered that art galleries, like libraries, were places where silence was not only welcomed, but positively encouraged, so he began to calm down. Though he was trying to take the information in in case Shelley started asking questions.
‘What did you think?’ she said as they stood at the end of the gallery, preparing to take on another room.
‘I think he was a lonely man,’ Daniel said.
‘Yeah, I guess so,’ she said. ‘But I think he was happy enough in himself, most of the time.’
They went into the industrial gallery. Half way round, Daniel saw a picture he recognised. Really recognised. He stopped, stock still. He knew there was something about Lowry he remembered. It was this. The picture was a famous one, Coming From the Mill.
‘We had that picture at home,’ he said.
‘Really?’ Shelley said.
‘Yes,’ Daniel replied. ‘I never really thought about it. That it was a Lowry you mean.’
‘And did you like it?’ she asked. ‘As a child?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I really did. I really felt..’
‘Connected?’ she asked.
‘Not really,’ he said, ‘just that I understood something by it. About it. It made sense. I used to really enjoy looking at it.’
‘It’s a crowd but all the people are isolated,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Daniel replied. ‘Everyone seems on their own. I understood that.’
‘Do you still?’ she asked. Then pulled herself up. ‘Sorry, it’s the demon questions again. I’ll stop them in a minute.’
‘It’s okay,’ he said, ‘I don’t mind you asking questions.’ And he smiled, hoping she believed him. It was partly true. He didn’t want to mind her asking questions. He wanted to trust her, it was just… trust was so hard to imagine.
‘Look,’ she said ‘Here’s a quote which kind of sums it up. And she read ‘all my people are lonely, and crowds are the most lonely thing of all.’ He’s right, don’t you think?’ she said.
‘I suppose so,’ he said. ‘I try not to think about it.’
‘What, about loneliness?’
‘About everything,’ he said. He felt he’d run out of steam. She seemed to notice.
‘Shall we go and have a coffee?’ she asked. ‘I mean, I’d quite like to sit down and you look a bit…’
He wanted to ask a bit what, but didn’t feel brave enough.
‘… a bit tired,’ she said. ‘I think we should do as Ruskin suggests and call it a day with Lowry for now. We can come back another time – can’t we?’
Was that her asking for another date? It was certainly a positive move. He weighed it up. He knew it was going well, even though he still felt the knot in his stomach.
‘A coffee would be nice,’ he said.
They went to the Tower Coffee Bar. It wasn’t busy. Daniel noticed it was just forty minutes till closing time, and couldn’t help feeling a bit relieved. Even though this wasn’t strictly speaking an ordeal, it would be over soon enough. He began to think about what would happen once they left the Lowry at 5 pm. But he couldn’t plan that far ahead.
‘They sell Grumpy mule coffee here,’ Shelley said.
‘Is that good?’ he asked.
‘It’s Fairtrade,’ she said, ‘so that is good.’
There was something of an inflection in the statement. She was asking him if he approved of Fairtrade. He didn’t think about it that much, but yes, on principle he thought it was a sound enough idea.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it is.’
She nudged him playfully.
‘See,’ she said, ‘we have so much in common.’ And smiled.
He wasn’t sure that was true. Time would tell. But it was nice that she was being nice. That she wasn’t acting like he was making her work hard. He was making her work hard, he felt. He wasn’t giving much away. He wanted to, but… it was outside his comfort zone. His comfort zone was very small.
‘What are you thinking?’ she asked him as he sat watching the pattern swirl on the top of his coffee cup.
‘That it’s like you’re blowing into a balloon,’ he said.
‘Sorry?’ she said. ‘I don’t get that.’
‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘I mean, like, I’m the balloon, most of the time, a kind of small and wrinkly balloon and you come along and you blow into it, sort of, well, kind of gently and you kind of blow some air into me and make me… well, feel a bit…’
‘Fatter?’ she teased.
‘A bit more like a proper balloon,’ he said. He looked at her. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You know what, I totally get it. Well, probably not totally, but a bit.’
Silence.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
‘What for?’ he replied.
‘For saying that. For sharing. I know it’s not easy.’
‘It’s not easy,’ he agreed. He went out on a limb. ‘I wish it was. I like you Shelley.’
‘I like you too, Daniel,’ she answered.
They drank their coffee.
‘Do you ever think,’ she said, after a suitable time in silence, ‘that conversations are like some kind of bizarre game.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I do. And I never really know the rules.’
‘There are rules, of course,’ she said. ‘But you know what, I think we can make up our own rules. We don’t have to be bound by the ones everyone tells you are right. We could invent our own rules. If you like.’
‘I wouldn’t know where to start,’ he said.
‘We’ve started already,’ she replied.
‘Have we?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We are learning about each other, through language of course, but by so much more. And I know that you don’t like questions and you know that I ask questions to compensate and if we both agree that being quiet isn’t a problem and that sharing what we think, while scary, is still safe because we are friends, then…’
‘I talk too much,’ she added.
‘I don’t talk enough,’ he said.
‘It’s just there’s so much to know,’ she said. ‘I’m interested in you and…’
‘It’s five o clock,’ he said. ‘They’re shutting up the café.’
They got up and left the building.
On the steps outside Daniel prepared himself for the awkwardness. Of how to end this. How to go away. How to stop. How to leave. Part of him was aching for time alone again and a bigger part told him he didn’t want to see Shelley walking away, catching a tram, going wherever it was she was going, because he didn’t know, because he hadn’t asked her any questions and he didn’t know anything about her so if she went now he would probably never see her again and if he wanted to see her again, which he did, he needed to do something – and quickly. Breathe, Daniel, Breathe.
‘I’d love to see your plants,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Would you feel comfortable with me coming back to yours?’ she asked. ‘I could cook you dinner. I like to cook.’
And risk-averse Daniel decided it was time to take a risk.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’d like that.’
He said it and he felt a moment of utter panic. What had he done?
‘But not just now?’ she asked, obviously seeing the fear in his eyes.
‘It’s just…’ he started.
‘No, I understand,’ she said. ‘I sort of sprung it on you. How about Friday? Are you doing anything Friday night?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have my dinner cooked by you!’
She laughed. ‘See,’ she said, ‘I knew you were a funny guy.’
‘I’m not a funny guy,’ he said, ‘believe me. Well, not in the way you mean.’
‘You’re great,’ she said. ‘ What do you like to eat?’
‘Not pizza,’ he replied.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I hate pizza too. What is it with people. They all act like pizza is the best thing in the world and if you don’t like it… ice cream too. I hate ice cream.’
‘Any kind of cream,’ he added.
‘You’re right,’ Shelley agreed. ‘A ban on pizza and cream. I can cook pretty good Chinese food, if you’re interested?’
‘Really?’ he said. ‘I kind of live on take-aways at the moment. I haven’t got round to…’ there was no point carrying on. ‘My house isn’t really geared up for visitors yet,’ he said.
‘Yet, or ever?’ she asked.
‘To be honest, I don’t know,’ he replied.
‘Well, I’m not a visitor,’ she said, ‘I’m a friend. So I’ll be fine. Shall we say Friday, your place at 7 pm?’
‘Yes, okay,’ he said.
She kissed him on the cheek and set off running.
‘I haven’t given you my address,’ he called out after her, hoping no one else was paying attention.
She turned again, ‘I know where you live,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you Friday.’
And she was gone.
He walked back to his house, not exactly with a spring in his step, but his balloon felt a little bit pumped. It didn’t deflate until he put the key in the front door and looked around the house. What had he done? He only had four days to prepare…
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.