Thursday, 26 July 2012

Over a Coffee...

This is an entry I'm submitting for an upcoming writing competition. It's for love stories, but I don't really do traditional love stories, so here's my spin on one. Hope you enjoy!



There wasn’t a drop of rain that day, which always made Josh feel better. In fact, he thought to himself that he couldn’t actually remember when it had last rained, which felt odd considering that it was the end of August, breaking into September. The sun made it easier; Josh could happily sit with his book and read, keeping an eye on his favourite coffee shop across the street from the bench he frequented. He wasn’t so keen on the rain, because it meant he would have to sit inside, and then there was a high likelihood that he would be served by ‘her’.

Now, there wasn’t a real issue with being served by her, Josh mused. In fact, it felt delightful, to be so close to her and being able to talk to her without any form of pretence other than genuinely wanting a cup of coffee and somewhere dry to read his book. That was the closest that Josh ever came to actually holding a conversation with her, with Harry... He knew that she liked to be called that, that she thought Harriet was an old fashioned name and made her sound like an old lady, and not the twenty three year old philosophy graduate that she was. Josh knew a lot about Harry, from bits of conversations that he’d overheard on rainy days, or from bits that he’d found out when he’d managed to garble out more than just a drinks order in the past. One thing he definitely knew about Harry, was that he loved her. From her reddish brown hair to her pale blue eyes, from her slight overbite to the tiny scar on the back of her left hand, Josh knew that he loved her.

Josh had never been one to express his feelings. When he was a child, his mother used to be amused by the fact that, should he ever fall over and scrape his knee, rather than cry and bawl, he’d simply sit up and look at the graze with mild interest before wiping it off and carrying on with whatever he was doing. The truth was, Josh was scared. Not a lot scared him in life, but the thought of telling Harry how he felt rattled his nerves more than any scary film or rollercoaster ever could. That was how he knew this was love. He’d had feelings for girls in the past, at college and at university, and he’s struggled to talk to them, but eventually he found the courage. With Harry though, the thought of her rejection was just too much for Josh’s mind to process; so there he sat, on that bench, every lunch break he got. He sat there, and he waited, and he watched her, hoping to finally get the courage to say something.

***

“Harry, that guy’s outside again. Want me to move him on?” The cafe manager asked as he cleared a table. He looked at Harry and she shrugged, “No, its fine. He usually leaves after a while, and besides, I think it’s kind of cute.” Harry finished making a table’s order for them and then watched as Josh stood from the bench and left, right on time, without so much as a glance at the cafe. She sighed; sure, she understood how people could see it as creepy, to have a guy sit outside the coffee shop nearly every day. She could even see why people had started to label him as a stalker, but she ignored it. She knew he was an okay guy; he’d even been into the coffee shop a few times, when it had been raining, and he was genuinely pleasant, if a little awkward, but she thought it was cute in an odd sort of way. Besides, she thought, it’s not like he wasn’t attractive. How many other girls could say they had a six foot something guy with hair that always had a windswept look to it, and eyes that felt like they could read a person’s thoughts coming to the place they worked just to see them? Not many... And that made her feel the situation was that little bit more special.

***

Inevitably, the rain came, which brought Josh indoors. He could feel his breath grow heavier as his nerves rose. It felt as though his heart was pounding against his sternum, but knew it was just his imagination, otherwise he had a serious medical condition that he was unaware of. He tried to appear as calm as possible, book in hand, eyes scanning across the words but not really taking them in. He glanced outside at the downpour, at his bench that stood vacant across the street. Perhaps he should invest in a decent umbrella, he thought to himself.

“Oh, hi there.” It was her, cheerful as always, despite the weather. Maybe that was just part of the job, Josh thought, but it was nice to see her smile on a day like today. Perhaps today would be the day when he finally said something other than a drinks order. He swallowed and took a deep breath, looking at her, “A large coffee please, black, but...” “With a small jug of milk on the side in case you change your mind, I know.” She smiled and gave a wink as she jotted the order down. Was he really that predictable? Or had she really paid that much attention to his visits in the past? Either way, something warm bubbled inside of him that manifested itself as a smile of his own, and one that lasted for the rest of the day.

***

The next day, he resolved he’d finally say something. He had to! She remembered his order, so there had to be something between them, and he couldn’t ignore that. That morning, work passed like a blur. He had too much on his mind to think about accounts. He didn’t even pay much attention to the walk to the coffee shop, but as he stood there, there was a crowd blocking the street. There was an ambulance, and mutterings in the crowd about a road accident. There was a woman in one of those metallic shock blankets, drinking from a takeaway cup and trying to talk to a police officer whilst wiping away the tears from her swollen, reddening eyes and cheeks. Josh stood back; he waited until the crowd had died down, but Harry was nowhere to be seen inside. With a sigh, he turned and walked away.

The next few days passed in a haze for Josh. He could call no actual recollection of what he’d done to mind, but still he found himself sat on that same bench, watching. He’d missed his chance, he thought. Stupid, how he’d let that crowd shake his nerves so he didn’t see Harry. He felt like that ordeal had placed a block around his mind, preventing that courage from coming back. But still, he sat and watched. He’d finished his book a few days before, so had nothing to cover his intentions with. He felt bare, on display, but still he wanted to see her.

It’d had been three days now, and he’d noticed that Harry hadn’t smiled much. Sure, she gave a smile to her customers, but it looked false, like she didn’t have the same passion for her job anymore, that same passion for life. He frowned and stood, ready to stride over and say something, but he stopped as he watched her set down a coffee cup and a little jug of milk on the table he usually sat at. That was his order. Was she waiting for him? He blinked as she looked out of the shop window, staring at him, at the bench. He smiled and waved. He felt like an idiot, standing in the middle of the street, waving, but she simply stared. It was as if she was looking past him, not seeing him. He stopped. He turned to look at the bench, a knot grinding itself against the wall of his stomach. Head hung low, Josh walked away as rain began to fall.

***

“You okay?” Chris, the manager, placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. She shrugged as she looked to the still steaming cup of coffee on the table, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She moved to the counter, busying herself with polishing glasses and putting cups away, still glancing to the coffee, and beyond it to that old bench outside as the rain came down heavier. “You know, the police said that it could’ve happened to anybody, that it was an accident...” She dabbed at her eyes with a spare napkin, “So why did it have to be him?” Chris shrugged as he began cashing up the till, “I don’t know, kid. I’m sorry.”

Harry put the last glass away and took off her apron, sitting at the table with the coffee, facing the seat where he would’ve been; where he should’ve been. It was raining. He was always here when it rained. She felt tears begin to trickle slowly down her cheeks as she gave a weak smile, holding out her hand to the empty seat, “Hi, I’m Harry. What’s your name?”

End.

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