A Cry Across the Street

It was as if Stephanie had suddenly gone blind to everything around her apart from one person. The street blurred, the vehicles blurred, the buildings, and all the people blurred. Except one. And he was visible and present with an intensity that was glorious and frightening. Nicholas! It was Nicholas! She recognised his curly brown hair, his gait that was confident without ever being a smug swagger, and his very presence. Stephanie was a person who didn’t generally call attention to herself or take the initiative but this was an exception. Life didn’t often give you second chances, and this might be one of them. She wasn’t going to throw it away. Their quarrel had been so silly. More often than not, with them, any quickly-flared anger soon turned into laughter, but this time, in a horrible way that reminded her of the way time played tricks as you realised you weren’t going to be able to stop yourself falling, the reverse had happened. She had made a joke about his Auntie Mary being a bit of a pain in the neck, and he had retorted with some unkind things about her friend and work colleague Briony, and though neither of them were fanatically close to the person maligned, it had escalated, and the unkind things said were not about an absent third party.

“Nicholas!” she called, and her voice seemed to be lost and subsumed in a sea of voices, but at the same time to be a loud, piercing call. “Nicholas! Please, let’s have a talk, at least!”

At first she thought he was going to ignore her altogether, then told herself he wouldn’t be like that, not Nicholas. He wouldn’t make her look small and silly in public.

“Nicholas, it’s me, it’s Stephanie!” she called, scurrying to try to catch up with him, though those long legs of his made it difficult. I am being undignified, she thought, my mother would have something to say about that. But she didn’t care. It was worth being undignified for a few moments to stop herself squandering this chance. Dignity was all well and good, but happiness mattered more.

Did she really catch up with him or did he slow down out of consideration for her? Because he was a considerate man.

Catching her breath she hung onto his arm, though how much was to steady herself and how much to desperately cling to him and not let him go, she didn’t know.

“Nicholas, it’s Stephanie,” she repeated, thinking that she sounded a bit ridiculous. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you – I thought you were out in the country at your mother’s house! Listen, I shouldn’t have said those things about your Auntie Mary. I’m sorry. She’s a dear, really.” She surreptitiously crossed the fingers of her other hand behind her back, because she didn’t think Auntie Mary was a dear, really, but it didn’t matter.

“There’s – nothing to worry about, love,” he said, but he said it in such an odd, awkward way. And though Nicholas might sometimes be just the tiniest bit odd, but in an endearing, lovable way, he was never awkward. Certainly not with her.

“You know I’m not normally the person who takes the lead and I don’t think Mother would approve. But would you like to come with me to the concert tomorrow night? I have tickets, you see, and Dorothy was going to come with me, but she isn’t very well, and I know how much you love music, and we haven’t had the chance for a while, have we?”

You are rabbiting on, she told herself. She had been scornful of others for prattling, and now she was prattling at full tilt herself. But it mattered so very much.

He gently disengaged her hand and led her to a nearby bench.

“You WILL go to the concert with me? Or to the cinema, maybe, if you prefer?”

You are beginning to sound desperate. Stop it!

He spoke for the first time – that low, pleasant voice. “You know – Stephanie, isn’t it? – that might not be a very good idea. Not when you think it over. Are you feeling okay? Let me get you a cab home. Is there anyone else I should call?”

“No – no thank you.”

I will maintain my dignity. I will not grovel and plead and make a fool of myself.

“Penny for them?” Nicholas’s mother asked, realising he was miles away as he sat in her comfortable lounge having a cup of coffee and one of his favourite ginger nut biscuits.

“Well, I don’t know if they’re not worth more than that, Mum,” he said. “The strangest thing happened to me today.” He told her the story and said, “I’m still worried about the old lady, and she was certainly old, though she didn’t strike me as especially frail – she could run at a fair lick. But the weird thing is,” he wrinkled his brow, “She knew my name! Okay, she called me Nicholas and not Nick, but I’m still trying to make sense of it. Made sure I knew hers, too – though she only told me her first name, Stephanie, and seemed to think I ought to know it. Frankly Mum, it was – well, pretty awful. She asked me to go out with her, and yet it didn’t seem as if – well as if …..” he broke off. He had no need to explain further. His Grandfather on his dad’s side had dementia and they knew only too well how it could manifest itself.

“What is it, Mum?” he asked, realising that she really had gone pale. You only tended to think folk did that in books, not in real life.

“This is - beyond strange, Nick,” she said quietly. “And no doubt there will be some rational explanation, but right now, I’m struggling to find it. You know you were called after your Great Grandfather Nicholas.”

“Indeed,” he nodded. He still had the fondest memories of the old gentleman, though he had died when he was still at primary school.

“Well, it was something we didn’t talk about much, and make no mistake, Nick, he and your Great Grandma Patsy were as happy as any couple could be. But he had a girlfriend before her, in the war. And it was one of life’s ironies. He was in the forces and though he was at El Alamein and the Normandy landings, he survived without a scrape. But his girlfriend didn’t survive the war. And she wasn’t even killed in a bombing raid or anything like that. She was knocked down by a car – just stepped into its path, folk said. Oh, I don’t mean she took her own life, but that – her mind was on other things and she wasn’t concentrating. And her name was ……”

But she had no need to tell him. Nick knew perfectly well. Her name was Stephanie.