Singing In The Rain

TODAY something wonderful is going to happen!” I repeated that mantra every morning when I got up. But as I looked out the window today, my positivity began to wane. It was raining – again.

That made three days in a row. Snow and ice I could cope with, but rain . . .

At least my sister Kim had had decent weather at the weekend for her wedding and was now sunning herself in Barbados.

My mother had Facetimed me from France to say that she and Serge had snow. I wished I could enjoy myself in the sun and snow.

For a moment, I felt bereft – left behind.

I had taken a week’s holiday in February to be a bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding and had thought that my mum and stepfather would be staying the week, but another commitment at home had seen them go back to France two days after the wedding.

I was still trying to get my head round that. A Frenchman stealing my mum almost from under my nose.

At least Kim had had the decency to be with Sam for years before she tied the knot. I’d had time to get used to the idea.

Still, I did have an open invitation to visit France, and my mum came back often.

I sighed and padded through to the kitchen to look out the window there.

“Yes, Kara, it’s still raining there as well.”

Watching the rain drip off the trees, I put the kettle on. I had visited the art gallery, phoned all my working friends, gone to the cinema and done some window shopping.

I had a pile of books to read on the kitchen table, and I flicked through them while the kettle boiled and Suki, my cat, weaved around my ankles.

“Tell me, Suki, that something wonderful is going to happen today.”

Suki told me no such thing. Instead she meowed plaintively.

“OK, keep your fur on. Tuna coming up, then we’ll have a quiet day together.”

But I couldn’t settle. I had ants in my pants and reading “Pride And Prejudice” didn’t stop my restlessness.

“You know, Suki, I don’t know why Elizabeth doesn’t tell Mr Darcy just to get lost. I would.”

Just like I had told Jack Andrews years ago, when I saw him holding hands with Alicia Matthews.

He had been my first love. I had been fourteen and full of righteous indignation when, urged on by my friends, I had given him his marching orders.

Where had that memory sprung from? I hadn’t thought of Jack in years. This was serious and called for action. I had to get out.

Before I had time to think, I put on my raincoat and wellies while Suki meowed her dissent. I twirled in front of her. I loved my matching raincoat and wellies. They were light blue with yellow flowers round the bottom.

“I,” I announced, as if it were her fault for keeping me in, “am going out for a walk.”

Suki meowed even louder and tried to trip me up. But I was having none of it.

“And you,” I said, pointing at her, “should have been a dog. I would have been out much sooner.”

With that parting remark I opened the door, to be met by a sheet of rain.

I could have fun in the rain. It was just a question of being inventive.

There wasn’t a soul about so I picked up a lolly stick and threw it in the gutter and watched it swim down towards the drain. I was twenty-four going on four and I didn’t care.

Then I splashed in every large puddle I came across – and there were plenty.

I was heading for the park. It was where Jack and I used to hang out. Once, he pushed me so fast on the roundabout that I got sick. Jack had to support me or I would have fallen down.

A neighbour reported to my mum that I was drunk. I had to breathe in her face before she believed me. Aged fourteen and I had undergone my

first breathalyser test.

It was at the bandstand next to the river that I stopped now.

Under the cover of the canopy someone was taking photographs. I watched before he turned round and spotted me. Then he lifted his camera and pointed it at me.

I’m not normally a show-off, but I had all this energy just bursting to get out. So I started to boogie to the tune of “Good Vibrations” by the Beach Boys.

“Good, good, good vibrations,” I sang, arms outstretched and twirling in the rain.

It was a moment of pure madness. The man could have been anybody, but at that moment I didn’t care.

We were alone in the park with the rain and that gave us something in common. Especially as he started to sing along with me.

“Kara?” the man said when I finally stopped and waved, ready to move on.

The voice was familiar. I walked towards the bandstand.

“Jack?” I asked with a sense of wonder.

It was as if I had conjured him up with my thoughts. Since we’d left school I had only seen him once and that was fleetingly.

“None other,” he said and gave me an elaborate bow.

I walked towards him, still thinking of him as some mirage. He’d gone to university down south and hadn’t come back. But the bow was a giveaway. Jack was into gestures like that.

He’d kissed the back of my mother’s hand when she’d told him that his hair was as long as a Tudor pageboy’s. But it was short now, and darker – or maybe that was the rain. And had he always been so tall?

Jack kissed me on the cheek then stood back to appraise me. I wondered what he saw.

“What are you doing out in the rain?” “Dancing. And you?” “Taking photos. I was going stir crazy cooped up indoors,” he replied. “Snap,” I said.

We both smiled at my unintended pun.

He had a lovely smile. My hormones started to get ideas, then I remembered Jack was engaged, maybe even married.

I’d overhead it at Kim’s wedding in passing. I’d meant to ask at the time but the best man had whirled me away for the first dance.

Ah, that was why Jack had been in my thoughts. So much for me thinking there was some mystic connection.

I was prone to ideas like that, for all the good it did me. I often got the wrong end of the stick. As did my mother.

She once grounded me for sneaking out of my bedroom window at night to meet Jack.

“That boy is nothing but trouble,” she said to me when she’d read me the riot act.

She’d pictured me drinking cans of lager in the park, getting up to hankypanky and even into trouble with the police. No doubt my camouflage outfit hadn’t helped.

But the truth was Jack and I had been staking out a badgers’ sett in the woods, hoping to catch sight of them.

We never did. But for ages after we split up I envisaged him and Alicia seeing the badgers.

“I like the outfit,” Jack said now. “It suits you.”

“It’s my happy gear,” I replied. “So, what brings you back here?”

“I’m looking at premises here to set up my design business. It has good transport links and I have quite a few companies in the area on my books.”

Jack was getting animated and into his stride. I nodded solemnly.

As the rain beat off the overhead canopy I put my serious hat on and asked questions about sites, possible clients and business start-up grants, and listened with polite interest to his replies.

“Of course,” he said, “I won’t be taking all the risk. I’ve got a partner.”

“Partner?” I enquired, on red alert. “As in business or relationship?” “Relationship?”

“You know, girlfriend, fiancée or wife.”

“A wife? I’m not that grown-up. No, there’s no-one else like that in my life. I meant a business partner.”

I swear that it was at that exact moment that the rain stopped and a weak sun tried to come out. We both looked up at the sky and then the washed-out park. Then my eyes strayed to the river.

“So, what brings you back here, Kara?”

“Jack,” I whispered, hardly registering his question. “Look!”

I pointed to the opposite bank of the river.

“An otter!”

We stood stock-still and stared. Then, with great caution, we squelched through the grass and crept nearer to the bank.

I had heard that there were otters on the river but I had never seen any before.

“Wow,” Jack whispered. “This makes up for the badgers.”

“Did Alicia Matthews ever see the badgers?” I whispered.

“Alicia Matthews? Not that I know of. There was never anything between us – except for her brother’s Playstation.”

A game on Playstation? I was betrayed for a game on Playstation! How fickle can young love be?

We watched the otter in silence until it disappeared. I was going to say something witty, but the words dried up at the way he was looking at me. It made me think that perhaps he regretted his duplicity.

I smiled encouragement. “Well, it was lovely meeting you again, Kara,” he said, clearing his throat. “Give your mum my love.”

Then he pecked me on the cheek and strode off.

How could I have misread the signals? I was left dejected, rain dripping off my hood.

I watched him walk away before I shouted.

“Jack, what did you mean when you asked what brought me back here?”

My voice carried on the air and stopped him in his tracks.

He turned and looked so forlorn standing there that I wanted to hug him.

“You’re in France now, I believe. I heard you married a Frenchman.”

“Me, married? I’m not that grown-up. My mum married a Frenchman. He’s called Serge and she met him on holiday.”

We started to walk towards each other then and we were both smiling.

“Do you fancy a go on the roundabout, then?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me? I was as sick as a dog the last time.”

“OK, but we can go and look for the badgers some time?”

“We could,” I conceded, taking his arm, “but perhaps we can start off with having a drink together.”

“What an excellent idea! And maybe followed by dinner?”

“Don’t rush me,” I replied. “I’m still accountable to Suki, my cat. She’ll want to know where I’ve been.”

Do you know what I’m going to tell Suki when I get home?

I’m going to tell her that, today, something wonderful happened. n

The man could have been anybody but at that moment I didn’t care At that exact moment the rain stopped and a weak sun came out