Chris always liked these afternoons.

They were a rare incidence this early in the year, just after the
harsh snow and needle like cold had passed and the April rains set in. There was a strange magic he
had always imagined when the streets were wet from a mornings rain and the sun came out and filled
you with warmth. If you looked out a window you wouldn’t know how to dress for such conditions.
Chris though had been out most of the day.

He had left his home early hoping to get a seat on the Tube from his home in Bounds Green on the
Victoria line. He had already figured out that if he stood at the furthest point from the platforms
entrance he would have the best chance of getting his preferred seat in the train’s last carriage. He did
however forget his umbrella and the fact that today was a bank holiday so he was both surprised and
relieved when he got off at Piccadilly Circus and found the rain sheet down at him. Today would be a
good day, he mused, not many people out on the streets. After smoking a quick cigarette in the
doorway of a Burger King he zipped up his coat as high as it would go, pulled up its collar, and
started walking towards Regent Street.

Even with the rain as it was today, there were still tourists from all corners of the World sat by Eros’
fountain. Talking and laughing in German and Japanese, American accents, French mannerisms and
even a young guy from perhaps Brixton trying to convince a group of young Dutch girls that He and
Prince William were “like that blood,innit!?” as the girls giggled into their hands and smiled at his
pure bravado. Chris smiled inwardly congratulating the young mans endeavour if not his butchering
of the English language. Leaving the noise of the tourists behind he crossed the road, narrowly
avoiding two Mums who seemed to be re-enacting the chariot race scene from Ben Hur with their
pushchairs in the way in which they took no prisoners as they crossed in the other direction.

Avoiding the offer from the regular Big Issue seller whilst he mumbled something about “no change”
and “on my back, yeah?” He quickened his pace. Today was going to be the day. He had done this
walk at least 30 times in his head last night as he lay awake. Today he would ask her. Today would be
the day he asked Jessica out. It was all planned...unlike the first time they had spoke in Cafe Nero 4
months ago.

He had just gotten off the phone with his Grandfather who had called to invite him around for a drink
before Christmas when the girl cleaning the table he was sat down at looked at him and said
“Complete tit isn’t he?” Chris was stunned. How did she know his Grandfather and why was he worth
such abuse? “I’m sorry, What!?” he replied looking at her with a very confused expression. “Holden
Caulfield is an absolute weapons grade tosspot” she said quickly, pointing at the copy of Catcher in
the Rye that Chris had put down when his phone had rung. “Jesus! For a minute i thought you were
talking about my Grandfather Bill!!” Chris said relieved that his Grandfather wasn’t the ‘tit’ in
question. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think before i spoke! I just saw the book and have always
despised Holden since i read it as a teenager. I’m sure your Grandfather is nothing like him in any
way, probably not even an American is he?? Jessica by the way. My name that is.” “Chris, nice to
know my Grandfather isn’t a tit” he said laughing at Jessica’s face which was, by now, a mask of pure
mortification.

They had spoken for twenty minutes that day when Jessica took her break early and insisted on
buying him a hot chocolate by way of an apology.
He found out that she was only working at the cafe part time until she found something better and that
at 26 she was 7 years younger than him and had moved to London from York because “York has a
Cathedral and pretty much nothing else!” She spoke about Catcher in the Rye and then, thinking she
had ruined the story for him, apologised again. Only when Chris explained he had read the book
before did she finally stop saying sorry. When she left to go back to work he already knew she was
the one. As he paid his bill she smiled at him and suggested he “Pop back anytime he liked” but asked
never to be introduced too his Grandfather. Chris had been ‘popping back’ every other day since.
Sometimes even twice on the same day if he could.

Today he would ask her out. Even as he walked down Regent Street, passed all the little covered
alleyways that splayed off it like veins pumping blood away from the ever beating heart of Central
London, passed the expensive stores wearing their magnificent Georgian hats that sprouted above the
shop fronts only really appreciated from a distance, he could feel his nerves and excitement build. She
would say yes. He had known this it seemed for a while but knowing something and doing something
are very different things. Chris knew how a car worked but if it broke down he couldn’t make another
one!! It had stopped raining. He hadn’t even noticed. The skies were still dark but the rain itself had
spent itself for now. He kept his coat zipped up.

He had wrestled with the notion of buying flowers for Jessica whilst on the train in this morning but
he didn’t know if she liked flowers and if so, what kind? Maybe she had allergies? How much pollen
is too much pollen if you are allergic!? He decided he would leave the flower idea until he knew they
wouldn’t kill her.

He smoked another cigarette as he walked before buying some mints on the off chance that they
kissed when she said yes. She smoked too but he thought it seemed like the right way to do it. He
paused around the corner from the Cafe and composed himself. He practised what he was going to say
as he checked his reflection in the window of a Carphone Warehouse store. He wished he had brought
an umbrella today as he tried fixing his rain drenched hair before giving up. She knew what he looked
like anyway right? It wouldn’t matter to Jessica. He had started to sweat. The sun had broken through
the gloom and it was already quite warm so he took off his jacket and tried holding it in several
different ways before deciding just to carry it in his hand. Enough stalling, he said to himself, let’s do
this.

She wasn’t there. He knew it the instant he entered the cafe. He ordered a tea and sat down at the table
they had first met. She always worked on Mondays. Was it because of the Bank Holiday? Maybe she
was unwell!? He would wait. If she isn’t in by lunchtime I’ll ask one of the staff.

At 2.35 it was obvious she wouldn’t be in today. He went to the counter and spoke to the young girl
who stood behind it. She was new, only worked there a week or two, and not very happy today it
seemed. He smiled at her and as he paid his bill he asked where Jessica was?

“Not bloody here is where she is mate!” she moaned. “Quit yesterday when we shut, now i have to
cover her shift. I’m meant to be helping my mate Angel paint her new gaff!!”

Chris just stared at her. Quit!? How could this be? He hadn’t planned it like this!!

“Why did she quit?” he asked feigning nonchalance.

“She reckons she has a stalker doesn’t she!? Wouldn’t say who but said she was scared and was
heading back too York first thing this morning. Said all she ever did was comment on his book one
day and he’d been harassing her ever since. Telling you man, there are some weird people in this City
you know? Never liked her anyway” and with that she left to serve another customer.

Chris always liked these afternoons. Ok, Jessica had left but he still had Debbie and Amanda and
Joanne at TGI’s and Lisa and........

Ali O Keeffe