In A Heartbeat by Vanda Inman

I’D seen him a few times lately as I jogged through the park. Each time I wanted to throttle him or push him straight into the duck pond, but I always swallowed my feelings and kept on running.

“He was there again,” I fumed as I arrived at work. “In a striped sweatshirt, spraying that wall near the bandstand, paint cans all over the place. It wasn’t as if he was painting anything nice, just a load of random splodges. Graffiti at its worst!”

I said this every time I encountered him. It took me a good 10 minutes to calm down when I got home and it wasn’t doing my health any good.

In fact, I was beginning to wonder if my early morning jog was beneficial at all. Exercise was supposed to get the heart rate up, but not this high.

I checked the monitor strapped to my wrist. I’d done almost 3,000 steps and had burned approximately 100 calories, but my heart rate remained higher than it should have and it was all due to him.

Goodness knew what toxins my annoyance had released into my body.

I took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down.

“My dear Amy, don’t let him rattle you, sweetheart.”

Pascal was looking devastating this morning.

I sighed. My boss was always so effortlessly fit and attractive.

Today he was dressed as a swashbuckling pirate, sword slung across his narrow hips, rakish hat askew on his head. Even the eye patch had an air of mystery about it.

That was one of the good things about working in a fancy dress shop. Crazy Costumes, it was called.

Pascal insisted the staff dress up in the outfits to show the customers how good they could look, and I had to admit it was fun. Like becoming a different character every day.

My absolute favourite was Wonder Woman. When I wore that outfit I felt like I could change the world.

Of course, all this keep-fit was to impress Pascal. Although I wasn’t sure he saw past me as a shop assistant, I was determined to work at it and win his heart.

One day, I was certain, he’d invite me to wear the Juliet costume with his Romeo, or the Cleopatra with his Antony, or . . .

“Well,” Pascal said, adjusting the ruffles around his wrists, “if it’s upsetting you so much and damaging your health, why don’t you do something about it?”

I surreptitiously checked the monitor strapped to my wrist. I was calming down now and so was my heart rate. I’d be OK as long as Pascal didn’t wink at me, sending my pulse racing all over again.

A few days passed and nothing happened, just the wall with its ugly swirls and lines greeting me each morning, but the following week the guy was there again, spray cans littering the grass, intent on his task of defacing public property.

He was dressed in old grey tracksuit bottoms and a baggy, stripy sweatshirt which would have done Dennis the Menace proud.

I had a feeling I’d seen him before but couldn’t quite place where, and I had a surge of annoyance just looking at him. I felt my heart beating and checked the monitor. Up more than it should be.

Then I thought of Pascal’s comments yesterday and realised I was running away, literally, from doing what was needed. Where was Wonder Woman now?

There was no question about it, I

I was supposed to be exercising for my health, but that man made my blood pressure rise!

had to confront him.

My heart rate increased, the fight or flight reflex kicked in, but I knew I had to see it through. I jogged up to him and stopped, hands on hips, catching my breath before launching into my big speech.

“You’re bleeping.” He turned, spray can in hand, then made an ugly red stripe on the wall. “What?” I gasped. “You. You’re bleeping,” he repeated.

“Oh.” I fiddled with the monitor on my wrist.

“Bad for the knees, jogging,” he continued. “And I’m not sure about getting out of breath quite so much either.”

“Please be quiet.” I gasped in exasperation. “I’ve stopped here, not because I’m out of breath or because my knees are hurting, but because I want to know exactly what you think you’re doing, defacing this wall!”

There was another bleep due to inactivity for over two minutes and he looked slightly confused.

“A hooligan, that’s what you are,” I continued. “You should be made to scrub that mess off. What’s it supposed to be anyway?” “Well, you see . . .” “Get it cleaned up before I come back to sort you out,” I continued.

He stared at me. “You and whose army?” he challenged.

I glared back, my monitor bleeped and I ran off before he could say any more, cheeks flaming, realising I was running again.

First I’d been running away from doing the right thing, now I was running away because I’d had a go and failed.

“Hey, wait!” I heard him call, but I kept on running.

****

“You look slightly ruffled, sweetie,” Pascal commented when I arrived.

He was dressed as an Army officer, gallant and dashing.

“Who are you going to be today?”

Good question. Little Bo-peep? Or perhaps Little Miss Muffett, afraid of a spider?

I shook my head sadly. “Never mind,” Pascal said after I’d told him the sorry story. “He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.”

I knew Pascal was right, but Dennis the Menace, as I now thought of him, kept coming back to me.

“You and whose army?”

Where was Wonder Woman now? It was all very well trying to change the world, but I needed support.

I needed an army of my own.

There weren’t usually many people around in the park at that time of morning and the only other people I knew who would be available were my neighbours, because they were all retired.

Could you assemble an army out of a handful of people who liked a quiet life in their gardens? Would they support my cause?

The thing was, the neighbours were all a lot older than me and I felt it was up to me to look after them.

I mended leaking taps for Rory, put up shelves for Sid and Elsie and had even been known to assemble flat-pack furniture for Lennie.

It was the Wonder Woman in me coming out.

But needs must, as they say, and it seemed they were my only hope.

“I see where you’re coming from,” Lennie mused when I told him about it at the weekend, “but I’m not sure I’m up to taking anybody on these days.”

He flexed what used to be his muscles.

“Thirty years ago I’d have given him a bunch of fives, but . . .”

Rory professed he’d love to help but had a gammy leg, and Sid was quite keen but couldn’t get far without his sticks.

The only person who was entirely up for it was Sid’s wife, Elsie.

“It’s all in the eyes,” she told me. “If you look ’em in the eyes and don’t flinch, outstare ’em, show your inner core of steel, that you aren’t afraid, then they haven’t got a chance.” She tapped her head. “Psychological, that’s what it is.”

I was impressed, thinking that Elsie would be a great asset to my army – the only problem being that she could only get around in her electric wheelchair.

****

It was all looking hopeless until, one day at work, I had a brilliant idea.

“Could I hire a few costumes,” I asked Pascal, “with staff discount?” “Whatever for?”

“It’s for my army.” I explained, wondering if he would think me completely mad or in possession of a rather good idea.

“I thought that if we dressed up a bit hard looking, like bikers or something, Dennis the Menace might realise I mean business.

“Perhaps if they’re just loitering in the background he won’t realise they’re all senior citizens,” I finished feebly.

Pascal looked as if I’d gone completely mad, but got himself under control fairly swiftly.

“You could give it a go, I suppose,” he said. “There are half a dozen bikers’ outfits you could use. Bandanas and false beards and stuff.”

Elsie seemed up for a bit of excitement and between us we managed to talk the others round.

“Where are those bikers’ outfits?” I asked Pascal as we were closing up a few days later. “Dennis the Menace is always there on a Friday and I need to kit the guys out tonight.”

“Oh, those costumes went out this morning,” he replied.

“But you said I could!” “Sorry, ducks.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you really meant it and a customer came in, wanting them all. Won’t something else do?”

I could have cried. All my plans were going to come to nothing, after all!

“Look,” Pascal said eventually. “Take what you want and no charge, just by way of apology.”

He flashed me a smile, but somehow it didn’t have the usual effect.

I scrabbled around in the back room to see what I could find. Amy’s Army, as we now called ourselves, was practically baying for blood, ready for action. We simply had to go through with it.

I found some costumes after a while and would just have to hope that Amy’s Army could loiter far enough in the background for Dennis the Menace not to notice anything more than a group of people.

Strange-looking people, maybe, but my army, nonetheless.

****

“I have come,” I pronounced sternly the next morning, “to ask – no, demand – that you stop defacing public property.”

Dennis the Menace turned.

“Nice to see you, too,” he replied as he finished a particularly ugly maroon swirl. “How are you today?”

“All the better if you scrub that muck off the wall,” I replied. “And I’m not alone this time. I have friends with me and we’re standing for no nonsense from the likes of you.”

Dennis raised his eyebrows and put down his spray can. “Really?” he replied. I tried to look him straight in the eye, just as Elsie had said, but he turned and glanced towards my army, amassed some distance away and ready for action.

A glimmer of a smile twitched around

If I wanted things to change, I needed help. I needed an army!

his lips which riled me all the more.

My monitor bleeped as my blood pressure rose and I raised an arm: the signal to advance. The army moved hesitantly forwards, but I could see, even from this distance, their hearts weren’t really in it.

All of a sudden, Elsie broke ranks and charged towards us, electric wheelchair on full throttle.

Dressed as Boudicca with her long hair streaming in the breeze, brandishing her sword, she cut quite a figure.

Dennis looked shocked, and his mouth dropped open in surprise, but as she reached us Elsie slowed down, almost lost her sword and sped up again.

Then we both realised she was heading straight for the duck pond.

It was like everything went into slow motion. Horror, incomprehension, then sheer panic all crossed Elsie’s face in a matter of seconds, although it seemed like hours.

I was rooted to the spot. Then Dennis threw himself towards the wheelchair, deflecting it away from the duck pond.

At the same time he knocked off the power, but the movement caused him to lose his footing, swerving as he turned.

He clutched at me as he skidded past then plunged straight into the duck pond with a huge splash, taking me with him.

We thrashed around for a bit, then Dennis stumbled to his feet and pulled me upright.

“At last!” He gasped. He was clutching me as if he was never going to let go and I wondered if he was going to take this opportunity to drown me once and for all. “At last you’ve stopped telling me off.”

And then he kissed me. “Jason! Are you OK?” Suddenly the army were all there, standing on the shoreline, calling out to – Jason!

Who was Jason, and what about me, I fleetingly thought as I came up for air before he kissed me again.

And then my monitor was bleeping, my heart racing, sending my heart rate into orbit. I didn’t want it to stop.

“You know him? You know who he is?” I demanded.

Sid wrapped his Batman cloak around me and Rory attempted to dry me off with his Roman toga.

Lennie arrived a little after the others, hampered slightly by his Mr Blobby costume, but Jason picked me up, all Superman style but without the outfit.

I realised that what I’d taken for fat underneath the stripy sweatshirt was actually pure muscle.

Then he carried me straight back to Elsie’s for a hot bath and cocoa, even though it was barely nine o’clock in the morning.

****

“Better?” Elsie said as I sat in her kitchen recovering from it all.

Jason, who seemed to know everyone, was sitting opposite me, a silly but slightly smug smile on his face.

“You know him!” I glared at them all. “How?”

“Oh, we didn’t realise your Dennis the Menace was Jason,” Sid told me, “or we’d have put you right straight away. Jason here’s a builder, but he does odd jobs for us . . .” He stopped, following a frown from Elsie.

“I thought I did your odd jobs,” I said. “What does Jason do?”

“Erm, mostly he puts right what you did in the first place,” Rory confessed. “But we didn’t like to say and we did love having you around.”

They all nodded enthusiastically.

I sighed, remembering now where I’d seen Jason before – walking down our street, presumably after putting my latest handiwork to rights. Jason shrugged.

“I had to do something. You must have jogged past me a hundred times sitting on that bench in the mornings before work.

“Then I heard about you saving the world and all that, and I realised I’d have to do something different to get your attention.

“So I asked the council if I could spray a mural on that wall, and, hey, sometimes even bad attention is better than none at all. How else was I going to get you to stop and talk?”

“I did enjoy it, though,” Elsie said, a twinkle in her eye. “Especially the last bit.”

“And you looked great in your Wonder Woman outfit today,” Jason added hastily, as the humour of it all finally struck me and I began to smile.

The next day I took all the outfits back to Crazy Costumes, but not before I passed a small group of men loitering on the edge of the park. My biker costumes! I’d know them anywhere.

One of the men gave a whistle as I walked past, which riled me even more.

I turned and glared at them all.

“Look, you aren’t actual bikers. You are pale imitations of the real thing, anyone can see that. So stop posing and grow up!”

I stalked past, leaving them open mouthed and feeling rather pleased with myself.

But minutes later there was a great roar behind me and they all passed on their big bikes, whistling and tooting for all they were worth, causing everyone around to stop and stare.

I sighed. My face was red, and not for the first time lately. Maybe, I thought as I arrived at the shop, it was time I stopped wearing the Wonder Woman costume and put it back in stock.

“I need a Juliet for my Romeo tonight,” Pascal said as I opened the door.

He adjusted a ruffle around his neck and admired his reflection in the mirror.

“Do you fancy it?” “No, thanks,” I snapped. “You didn’t give me a thought when you let those biker costumes out to someone else, so don’t bother now.”

“Dearie me, and I thought you were Wonder Woman, saving the world.”

He raised an eyebrow, eyeing my outfit.

“How about saving me some time?”

I dumped the costumes on the counter in front of him.

“I don’t need to dress up any more,” I told him. “Maybe it’s time you gave it a go in the real world, just as you are, and see what everyone makes of you then. I quit!”

And it was true. I’d found my inner core of steel, as Elsie put it – with a little help from my army of friends, of course – and I was done with mooning after Pascal.

****

It was a few weeks later when Jason and I walked through the park to admire his finished handiwork.

I gasped, amazed that such beauty could have come from all those swirls and stripes at the beginning.

The mural depicted life in the park: the duckpond with its wildlife, trees, birds, people walking, families picnicking, and a girl suspiciously like me who was jogging along with a big smile on her face.

“There’s one last thing I need to do,” I said as we turned for home.

I unstrapped the monitor from my wrist and lobbed it into the nearest bin. As it landed it gave one last bleep, indicating a racing heart rate.

But I knew exactly the reason why – Jason was kissing me again. n

Sid put his Batman cloak round me and Rory offered his toga