I had to assume that as far as he was concerned, I was a man dressed up as woman. To him, I must be an aberration, someone to be pitied maybe...


Get A Life!

By Susan Brown

Chapter 10

Previously …

Was she Alistair’s girl friend, lover, wife and had he been lying to me about being unattached?

I sobbed, wondering whether it had been a good idea to hide myself away in that strange quirky island with its even quirkier inhabitants, where whatever I did, seemed to go pear shaped.

Then I heard it in the distance; the unmistakable sound of a Porsche engine coming my way, very fast.

I darted behind a handy hedge and waited for it to pass.

As the sleek sports car roared by me, I could see the passengers clearly, if very briefly. It was Alistair and the mystery woman.

And, och aye the noo; the story continues…

I listened to the throaty roar of the Porsche’s engine as it rapidly went away.

Standing there, I wondered what the hell I was doing. He had given no indication that he felt anything for me and I had acted like a silly, immature love struck schoolgirl and had run of in some sort of hissy fit.

So, he had complimented me, but he probably did that with all the girls; but then again, he probably did know that I wasn’t like other girls, so what was he up to? Lets face it; privacy was at a premium on this island with its closely-knit community.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Alistair had been playing some sort of game with me. He said that he lived alone, was that a lie too? Was this mysterious girl his live in lover?

I felt so stupid.

Obviously I was nothing to him and that was understandable. What was I to him?

I had to assume that as far as he was concerned, I was a man dressed up as woman. To him, I must be an aberration, someone to be pitied maybe.

Why had he strung me along like that?

Or had he strung me along and were the messages I had been getting, just me being fanciful and wishful thinking?

I had to get real and get on with my life. If love happened to come knocking at my door, then I would deal with it but for now, I had a job to do. I decided there and then not to live on cloud cuckoo land.

Alistair was history.

I took a deep breath and continued down into the village.

No more head in the clouds and fanciful notions. I was there to do a job and I would be a hundred per cent focussed on it.

Feeling sorry for myself was not what I wanted. I should be happy as a dog when you scratch behind its ears and not a moping mini-mop.

I arrived back at Aileen’s house and let myself in. there couldn’t have been too much wrong with her hearing as she immediately came out of the kitchen and confronted me.

‘Is that you Jenny?’

‘No Auntie, its me Chloe?’

Your not Maureen’s girl?

‘No Auntie.’ I said wondering if this scene was going to be repeated every time I came back, a bit like Ground Hog Day.

‘Och yes, that’s right, Chloe. Where ha’ ye been?’ she asked.

‘Erm, why do you ask?’

‘Because the police ha been lookin’ for ye.’

‘Why?’

‘Doughall was looking for ye.’

‘Doughall, oh yes, the rather tall, beefy policeman, covered in muscles.’

‘That’s him. He was telling me that he found ye wee funny pink scooter and ye was nowhere to be found. He was worried that you had gone over a cliff or something.’

‘No, no cliffs; I was picked up by someone.’

Her interest seemed to increase and she looked at me piercingly.

‘Picked up, ye say, by whooom?’

‘Alistair; he was passing and saw that I was getting a soaking, so he gave me a lift to his place to dry out and then I left.’

The explanation seemed a bit lame to me, but no way was I going to tell her an why I left.

‘I ken that ye fancy him.’

‘I do not fancy him as you say. I do not fancy him or any man, or woman for that matter. I’m here to do a job and I have no time for anything of that sort.’

‘Ye face says different. Ha’ ye been crying?’

‘I’m going upstairs to change.’ I replied, not wanting that conversation to continue, ‘where is my scooter?’

‘Brian, the mechanic has brought it back and it’s in the shed around the back.’

‘Oh, right, erm how much do I owe this Brian?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Why’s that, is he the local A.A. man*?

‘No, B.B?’

‘B.B?’

‘Aye, Brian’s Breakdown.’

I got undressed and in my robe. Then sighing, I sat on my bed and put my head in my hands.

I wondered what else would happen to me; talk about an eventful few days! I had left London for the quiet life in a rural place, far from the madding crowd.

However, I had had enough things happen to me in the short time that I had been here than I had ever had in my life. I wondered if I should just go back to London, for the quiet life!

My phone chirped.

‘Hi Sally.’

‘How are things with you?’

‘Fine,’ I lied.

‘Hmm; you don’t sound fine. We need a girly chat. Meet me at the café, fifteen minutes.’

With that she disconnected without giving me the chance to make my excuses.

I sighed and then stood up. Looking out of the window, I could see that all signs of bad weather had gone and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I wasn’t fooled though, as I now knew that it could be all an illusion and that a have squall might appear at any moment. The weather around Muckle was a bit jekyll and hydeish. Still, I couldn’t go out wearing a sou’wester, so I took a chance and after washing my face and applying a little makeup, I slipped on some clean knickers, a yellow sundress and some white strappy sandals.

I was ready to be seen in public again - maybe.

I arrived at the café in two shakes of a Labradoodle’s tail but Sally had beaten me to it. I rather suspect that she had rung me from the café but I had no proof of that. There were several people in there, who all looked up as I walked in, making me feel rather self-conscious for some reason. I walked over to Sally’s table and quickly sat down. I didn’t like being the centre of attention much.

Molly, the café owner and my new friend came over with a smile on her face.

‘Hello there Chloe, what’s this about your wee scooter being abandoned?’

‘Is nothing secret here?’ I asked the room in general.

There was a general reply from most present in the negative.

I sighed; I might just as well tell everyone what was going on in a loud voice, as I would hate to think that people were straining themselves hearing me…

‘Can I have a cup of arsenic…I mean tea please?’

‘Of course dear,’ replied Molly, ‘we can talk later, when all the gossips have gone.’

‘In your dreams,’ I thought, ‘she’s the worst gossip of the lot!’

‘So,’ said Sally, ‘tell auntie what the problem is.’

‘Auntie? You are not much older than me.’

‘That’s very kind of you to say, but I think that I might be a bit more, shall we say, worldly wise. Now, tell me what has happened between you and the delicious Alistair.’

‘You think that he’s erm delicious then?’

‘Any alive and breathing woman would.’

‘Oh, right.’

I stayed silent for a moment.

‘Well, tell all.’

‘I can’t here, too many ears.’

I could see everyone seemed to be ear wigging and it was rather disconcerting.

Sally looked around.

‘I think that I might need to check on overdue council tax…’she said, leaving the words hanging in the air.

Suddenly everyone was not looking at us and getting on with their own business. I looked at Sally with a new respect. She knew how to control a room all right and I wondered, not for the first time, who was the boss; her, or her rather nice but maybe not so assertive hubby.

‘Right,’ she said turning back to me, ‘spill the beans.’

I didn’t want to do any bean spilling, but it was obvious that I wasn’t going to get any peace until I told her the whole sordid story.

So I quietly told her all about it. I won’t go into all the details as you know what happened if you read the previous chapter but for those that haven’t, I stopped my scooter as I was getting drenched, due to the fact that it was weeing down with rain and Alistair was there like a knight in shining armour (the Porsche being the shining armour bit) I went back to his pad and I threw a wobbly when this drop dead gorgeous girl turned up as if she owned the place.

(Note to self, do my over-the-pond and antipodean readers understand any of the above or do I need to use sub-titles?).

‘Of course,’ I said, ‘I had to go. I wasn’t going to stay there and be humiliated by anyone, especially after he said I was beautiful or words to that effect and obviously didn’t mean it. So I left and then made my way back home. End of.’

‘So you didn’t even say goodbye?’

‘No.’

I was a bit upset and my eyes were leaking a bit, but at the time I wasn’t conscious of it. Sally looked at me with a puzzled look on her face. Then she smiled.

I don’t know why she smiled. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing to smile at or about.

‘What?’

‘Was the girl blond?’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Tall?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Pretty?’

‘In an obvious way.’

‘That would be Morag.’

‘Morag?’

‘Yes Morag.’

‘You know her?’

‘Yes.’

‘So how long have they been seeing each other?’

‘All their lives.’

‘All their lives?’

‘Yes.’

‘So they are childhood sweethearts.’

‘No, that would be disgusting.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they are brother and sister.’

‘Oh bum!’

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me, but of course it didn’t.

Once again I had made a mess of things.

Sally looked at me with a sad look on her face.

‘I think that you may have misread the situation,’ she said, ‘am I right?’

I nodded, not wanting to put into words what my thoughts were at that moment.

‘Lets get down to the nitty-gritty; you fancy him and have the hot’s for him; he came and rescued you from a watery grave, bless the wee man. Fast forward to the cottage, where you got your knickers all twisted as you thought that you had every chance of getting up close and personal and then Morag turned up to spoil the party and you ran off without a moments thought?’

I nodded again. I was still sans voce as I think the Welsh say.

‘So, what are ye going to do about it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Are you just sitting there and saying to me that ye do not intend to sort it out?’

‘There’s nothing to sort out. I made a mistake and anyway, I don’t think Alistair would even be interested in me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Have you forgotten what I am?’

‘A pretty wee girl lacking in the self assurance department?’

‘Thanks for saying I’m pretty, I suppose I don’t scrub up too badly, but let’s face it, under this skirt, there’s an extra bit that other girls don’t have.’

She looked at me with a puzzled look on her face and it cleared as she finally got the message.

‘Oh, you mean your dingle-dongle.’

‘Dingle what? Oh you mean my penis,’ I whispered looking around to make sure that no ears were tuned in our direction.

‘Aye,’

‘Do you think that he might have a problem with it?’

‘It depends which way he swings.’

I fleetingly had visions of Tarzan swinging through the trees…

‘He must know about me.’ I said.

‘I am sure that he is aware of your, shall we say, unique problem and I am equally sure that it doesn’t matter to him, otherwise, why do you think that he keeps running into you?’

‘You think?’

‘I do; now, I repeat, what do you intend to do about it? You did rush out of his cottage without a word of explanation and that could be construed as being a wee bit rude.’

I squirmed on my plastic seat.

‘I can’t do anything about it. I’ve messed everything up. He must think that I’m stark staring mad or something…’

‘ Chloe, don’t be silly. Just explain and apologise and that will be then end of it. You have the tendency of over dramatizing…’

‘ I do not,’ I said emphatically, standing up and waving my arms about.

Everyone was staring at me and Sally had a self-satisfied grin on her face. Red in the face, I sat down again and smiled ruefully, thinking that she might have a point.

‘Look,’ said Sally, ‘you need to sort this out. At some point you will come across each other. This is a small island and you know that you’ll meet sometime soon. Now wouldn’t it be better to face up to things and get it over with?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Good, that is that out of the way. Now about your office; it has been cleared out and it has a desk chair and other officey type stuff in there. Here is the key to the front door of County Hall and also your own office door. Come and go as you please. Don’t forget that I want a report soon about how you intend to get things moving on the tourism front.’

‘I do have some ideas and I’ll put them down on paper and then we can have a chat.’

I was pleased that the conversation had veered away from more personal matters.

‘Any idea about what is happening about my cottage. Auntie Aileen is nice, but I would like my own space.’

‘Yes, some of the villagers are clearing it out and then a couple of the local builder’s are going to make it more habitable. I hope that you will be able to move in soon, about a few weeks if we are lucky and the weather holds, of course.’

‘The weather is a bit changeable, isn’t it?’

‘Aye, you can say that again.’

Soon after we left and went our separate ways.

She took the High Rd and I took the Low Rd and found myself down on the beach again. I liked the beach, it was nice and peaceful, and nothing like Brighton. Don’t get me wrong, I like Brighton, but the beach is full of huge pebbles which are hard to walk on and uncomfortable to sit on and in the hot sunny weather, tourists were wall to wall with not a lot of room to spare.

I remember one occasion when a kid dropped his ice cream and it landed on my head…

I could never imagine this place getting as crowded as Brighton, for one thing, it’s a long way from civilisation as I knew it and for another the rail/boat links were, to say the least, flaky.

But it was my job to get the tourists flocking in and I would try my hardest to do that. It was a pity that Muckle didn’t have enough flat bits to have an airport on it...

There were always helicopters; hmm…

My mind was, as always, thinking about what I could do. I hoped that my aspirations might come true.

The sand on my feet was cool and that was nice. The sun wasn’t as hot as it had been the last time I had walked on it. I remembered my exhilarating horse ride with Isabel and how alive I felt. I hope that I could repeat that experience soon and maybe even take horse-riding lessons with her. Did I need a driving licence and L-plates for that?

I sat down near the waters edge, watching the waves lap gently up the shore. It was so peaceful here and I wondered if it would be like that in a year’s time, if what I wanted to do came to fruition. I didn’t think that I should worry too much as there were plenty of beaches to go around even if we had ten thousand visitors.

Thinking over what Sally said, I knew that she made sense. Later on, I would get Pinkie out and go and see him and try to explain what a fool I had been. For now, I just lay back and then shut my eyes. It had been a fraught few days and I hadn’t really slept very well. I was rather tired and soon, before I knew it, I was asleep.

I awoke with a start as the water lapped gently against my feet and, unaccountably my face was being licked at the same time. Sitting up, I noticed that the tide had come in and that I was in danger of getting my knickers wet. Not only that, a rather bedraggled looking dog was looking at me expectantly. It was, I think, a Jack Russell crossed with something else. She (for it was a girl) was looking at me with her head tilted to one side and tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth.

‘Hello,’ I said.

She just barked and then ran off down the beach.

I stood up and brushed the sand of my skirt. I had no idea how long I had been asleep, as I had no watch on my wrist. Still feeling a bit tired from my snooze, I picked up my sandals and then walked up the beach.

I heard the sound of breathing behind me and turning around, there was that dog again.

She barked and then shot off down the beach again and went behind a pile of rocks.

Shrugging I carried on.

The clock tower on the small promenade said that it was five minutes to twelve and the distant thunder that I had been hearing was in fact my tummy rumbling.
I wondered what I should do.

I didn’t fancy the pub and going through the testosterone charged bar to get to the snug where the ladies were allowed to congregate.

Then the obvious choice came almost without much more conscious thought.

The café was quite empty when I walked in, the little bell on the door tinging as I opened the door.

Molly came through from the back and smiled.

‘I think that I’m going to have to give you a loyalty discount soon,’ she said smiling, ‘you are becoming my most regular customer!’

We both laughed as I sat down and ordered a low calorie meal of two sausages, eggs and chips, to be washed down with a pot of her finest tea.

Soon I was tucking into my meal. Other people came in shortly after so I wasn’t able to have a chin wag with my favourite café owner, as she was quite busy.

Being near enough exclusively a local trade as not many tourists were evident, the café had short periods of busy trade, like breakfast lunch and tea times, interspersed with long periods were not much happened. I hoped that I could help with that problem by getting more visitors to the island. Only time would tell if I was successful in that.

After my meal, I said my goodbyes to a still busy Molly and left the café.

I stopped short as I stepped out as there before me, sitting on the pavement was the dog. She had this look on her face of expectation.

Then she stood, barked and wagged her tail.

‘What?’ I asked the panting doggie.

She wagged her tail again and then shot off down the road.

‘Even the dogs in this place are eccentric.’ I thought despairingly.

Pinkie was in the shed where Brian had left her. Luckily all the spiders were having a snooze or something and I couldn’t see any that might attack me, although one of the webs did shiver a bit, making me do the same.

I had decided, on the spur of the moment, to go for a ride to my soon to be new home, just to see what, if anything had been done to the old, run down place. I knew Sally had said that it had been cleaned out and everything, but I was just nosy and I wanted to see what it looked like without the disgusting rubbish that was there the last, memorable time I went.

I just hoped that the place had been cleared of spiders and other animals!

Did I mention that I don’t like spiders?

I wheeled Pinkie outside and there she was, the little dog, standing there again, looking bright eyed and bushy tailed.

‘What do you want?’ I asked.

She cocked her head to the side again, seemed to consider my question for a moment and the barked twice, making me jump nearly out of my sandals and wet myself to boot. How could such a small dog have such a loud bark?

She gave me one more glance, another earth shattering bark and then shot off down the lane as if being chased by something large and somewhat unpleasant with big sharp teeth and claws.

‘That dog has issues,’ I mumbled as I sat on Pinkie and started her up.

The ride to my cottage didn’t take long, one advantage of being on an island. In London, just going one mile could take ages.

Proceeding slowly through the sleepy village, the sound of the little engine echoing around the walls of the cottages and waking a sleeping cat lying full length on a garden wall, I soon found myself going along the little lane that led to what I considered to be my cottage, even though I wasn’t even living there yet.

I drew up outside and in front of the cottage was an old rickety lorry that looked old enough to have been in use during world war two. I stopped Pinkie, switched her off, took off my helmet and then put the scooter on the stand. After de-crumpling my helmet head hair and checking to see that I had no midge bodies on or around my face, I decided that riding a scooter wasn’t very good for my appearance. But I had to make do with Pinkie and to be honest, I was getting rather fond of her.

An ancient old man I estimated to be about a hundred, give or take a year or two, tottered out of the cottage, coughing violently.

I wondered if the inside of my new home was still toxic and then I noticed a foul looking cigarette - you know the ones, roll up’s, I think they are called - droopily protruding from his wizened old lips. A grey haze of smoke was wafting around him and I deduced, with Holmes like clarity that the man had a humongous smokers cough.

He had a peaked cap on that had seen better days, probably during the Boar War. It was covered in dust, as was the rest of him. Looking up as I approached, I could tell that his eyes weren’t as bad as I thought as he gave me a rather leering once over that left me feeling a bit uncomfortable. How he could possibly think of anything sexual at his age and state of health, I wasn’t sure. It must be something in the water, or whisky, more like…

‘Och, ye must be Chloe, ye pretty wee thing.’

‘Erm, don’t know about pretty, but I am Chloe.’

‘I’m Sandy McBride Junior.’

‘Junior?’

‘Aye, ma brother Sandy Senior is much older than me. Whell, young Chloe, Sally asked me and some others to tidy things up for ye, so you should be as snug as a bug in a rug before long.’

‘Thanks, for all you are doing, I do appreciate it.’

‘Och lass we all muck in on Muckle.’

At that he wheezed and coughed violently. I was surprised that the cigarette didn’t move from his lips while this was going on and I wondered if it had been superglued in place.

‘Get it?’ he gasped, ‘ muck in on Muckle!’

I then realised that the wheezing wasn’t signs of imminent fatality, but he was actually laughing.

‘Oh yes, very good.’ I said smiling with relief.

‘I haff te go to the pub for me lunch. I’ll be back later. The lad is still in the hoose doing some work, he’ll see te ye.’

I smiled and waved to him as he got into the lorry, eventually started it after four tries and then trundled of down the lane in a puff of smoke, the lorry, not Sandy, mind you...

I shook my head, wondering if anyone on this island was sane or normal.

Over to the side of the cottage was a large pile of old furniture, including the horrible smelly sofa and the rotten carpets. I was pleased that they were gone and looked forward to getting some nice furniture for my new home.

I could hear some banging and bashing coming from inside the cottage and I wondered in and could see that the place had been virtually cleared of rubbish and it smelt a bit less like a pigsty.

I heard some more banging coming from the kitchen and then a loud ‘bugger, my finger.’

I walked through the sitting room and into the kitchen.

Sitting in the middle of the kitchen was the dog. She had what looked like a silly grin on her face. I hoped against hope that she wouldn’t bark. Apart from the earth shattering headache that would cause, I wondered if the windows would take it.

She wagged her tail.

Then I noticed in the corner, a man with his back to me He was wearing an old t-shirt covered in paint and other unknown substances and faded jeans. He had a rather nice bum, but that was beside the point. I was off men…

He was fiddling about with something on the wall.

‘Hello.’ I said, smiling.

The man turned around.

He had his finger in his mouth and looked faintly ridiculous.

But that wasn’t what I was thinking at the time.

‘Hello Chloe,’ he said removing his digit. ‘I see that you have met my dog, Rosie,’

It was Alistair.

---

 
To Be Continued...

Sorry about the continued delays in posting. I have a lot of real life things going on at the moment. I hope to post more, larger chapters in the future.

Please leave comments and/or maybe a kudo, cos its nice to hear from you.

*A.A. – The Automobile Association, car recovery service.