Lucy's Story

Hailstones lashed down outside the window creating an almighty cacophony on the Perspex roof of the greenhouse below. Lucy looked at her phone for the umpteenth time that day before looking back at the grim weather. The hails were bouncing off the tarmac and the puddles growing before Lucy’s eyes. It was 2pm but it was dark the clouds had crowded Lucy in, making her feel claustrophobic, the gloom and the artificial light made her feel tired and lethargic, while her stubbornly silent phone made her feel lonely and unloved. She watched lighter wisps of clouds drift across the shield of black ones, the hailstorm had stopped but the rain still hammered down on the plastic roof below. Lucy twiddled the phone in her hand, determined not to look at it again… yet. She knew she’d look at it eventually, and knew what it would tell her; the time and nothing else.

Lucy hadn’t smiled so much in a long, long time as she had done the previous night. George had been the perfect date, funny, witty, interesting with old-fashioned manners – he even offered to pay for dinner which despite Lucy’s feminist instincts, she accepted with glee. It was so rare to find a real gentlemen these days; most of her recent dates had been men who were already in love... with themselves. They’d talked about themselves, preened themselves and bigged themselves up, but George had asked questions, listened, laughed in all the right places and, when it was his time to talk, he had a cute self-deprecating humour that grew out of an assured self-confidence. He’d walked her home but hadn’t made unwanted advances, (the advances would have been welcome but Lucy was pleased that he hadn’t.) His last words had been ‘I’ll text you tomorrow’ and Lucy’s smile had lasted all night and well into the morning.

But she wasn’t smiling now. Now the frown lines on her face were so deep that it could have been made by a plough. He hadn’t texted and he wasn’t ever going to text, just like it wasn’t ever going to stop raining. George was just like the rest of them but he’d just been good at disguising it. No wonder he didn’t want to come in last night, he obviously couldn’t wait to get away from her. Another wasted evening, another wasted day.

‘C’mon Lucy’ she said to herself, she always spoke aloud when she was alone and upset with herself, she kind of took on her mother's scolding voice. ‘Sort yourself out, you can’t stand here waiting for nothing all day.’ She smiled to herself, a half smile but at least it was a start. She turned away from the rain, threw the phone on to the sofa and tried to concentrate on the report she had taken the day off to write. Her talking to had worked, she worked, she wrote, she ctrlCeed and ctrlVeed, she crafted and created a report that even her boss couldn’t criticise. She glanced at her computer clock, 16.23, she’d actually managed to go 2 hours without looking at her phone. She glanced over at the window, had the rain actually stopped? Were there actually patches of weak blue sky peering through the clouds?

She got up and looked for her phone. It had bounced on the sofa and was wedged between the two cushions. There was a message, how hadn’t she heard it? It was from George! Before she even opened it she did a little dance for joy. She slid her finger across the screen and read the message.

‘Sorry stupid meetings all day but really enjoyed last night. Wanna meet again tomorrow?’

Lucy grinned, the perfect message from her perfect gentleman. She kissed her phone and hugged it to her chest, of course she wanted to meet again tomorrow. Now all she had to do was think of how to reply.