Words (Second Draft 2013-09-25)
A short exercise to use these words in a story: Slice,
Wonder, Pull, Water, Corner, Leaf, Number
Expanded to see where
it goes after that first paragraph.
He saw her sitting at the corner table, number 17. She was
waiting for the next round bell, toying with the lemon slice in her glass. Was
it water or vodka and tonic he wondered?
The bell sounded and he moved over to her table.
“Hello” he said, “I’m Simon”.
She dropped her eyes from his face to his maple leaf sweater
and said,
“Get your coat. You’ve pulled.”
He smiled and sat down.
“So, I guess you are a Canadaophile or just go for men in
styled knitwear?”
“I’m intrigued by why you chose that to a speed-dating
evening, but it does seem to be an ice breaker. Were you trying for undertones
of Darcy?”
“Err … um, I’m sorry?”
“Sorry, it’s from Bridget Jones’ Diary - you know the
Christmas party scene – Darcy wears some
atrocious festive designs and Bridget puts him down as a total dork… But I
don’t mean you must be a dork, he turns out all right in the end. Sorry, if you don’t know it then that must
have sounded very odd. Maybe it’s a bit too “chick fic”. Let’s start again. I’m
Laura – nice to meet you Simon.”
“Nice to meet you Laura”
They shook hands in the mild but polite style of those who
have already shaken a dozen hands that evening. Moderately firm for him to
imply masculinity but without a crushing machismo, and light but definite by
Laura, casting herself as feminine but confident in her equality.
“And I have seen it. Bridget Jones I mean, the film not the
book.”
“Ahh maybe you do fancy yourself in Colin Firth’s part
then….” She leaned forward, “Do you have hidden depths?” Simon settled back in
his chair looking thoughtful.
“Well I have been known to watch the odd romantic film, and
I do read some light fiction – but nothing too deep. I did enjoy Bridget Jones’
Diary, and I’ve been reading a series of crime novels featuring a woman – I
think it’s aimed at a female audience, it’s quite stylish and mainly from the
woman’s perspective. She’s American not French, but I like to think of it as
`Chic Flic’ if you follow the allusion.”
“hah – that’s very good. Parlez vous francais?”
“Non”.
They both laughed and sipped their drinks before he said
“How about you – do you speak any more French?”
“Ah, I get by. I did an A-level and read Proust, somehow, but these days it’s occasional tourist `combien
pour deux croissants’ !”
She looked down at the sweater again, “So… how come you chose
such a “, she paused to find the right word, “distinctive costume?”
“Oh, I guess I thought it was a good idea at the time, - but
ah maybe there was some subconscious choice in selecting something less than
hip.”
Laura cocked her head at him expectantly, waiting for Simon
to go on.
“I err… I errm, I’m not exactly comfortable with the dating
scene, never mind events like this. I’m not even really trying to date. My wife
wanted me to try this to spice up our relationship. So I’m here to flirt and
practice my chat up skills. But I feel a fraud since I don’t want to get
involved with anyone.”
“Radical! Are you some seventies throwbacks with an open
marriage? Your wife has sent you out to a singles night. Rather risky of her
isn’t it? …. Are you sure she’s not trying to palm you off on some other woman?
What if you find a new soulmate?”
“Oh, no – I’m sure she wants us to stay together. But she said
we needed some excitement.”
“Seems to me that you are the one who might get the
excitement, what if you had a one night stand, or are you only window
shopping?”
“Well my wife is here as well, but we’ve been talking about
a temporary separation”, Simon’s voice tailed off , “You know, a trial space to
find ourselves.”
“Or to find somebody else” suggested Laura. “I’m sorry, I’m
not being very sympathetic. But it sounds like she wants to play around a bit.
Maybe she wants to see if you are jealous enough to still want her. I think you
should play her at her own game, see how she reacts if you take someone home.”
Laura’s looked at Simon askance, her eyebrow raised. He felt
himself flushing at the unspoken invitation.
The bell rang as Laura squeezed his hand and said, “Take me home darling”.
