Fiction Friday. The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Shakespeare

This story forms a sequel to last week’s Fiction Friday submission.

The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Shakespeare
a Curious Sorts story
by James Ashelford

It had started out as simple poking at the ice cubes with the tip of her straw. Over the past half an hour, Reyes’ actions had escalated to swirling the straw around at high speed, creating a rapidly accelerating whirlpool of coke that threatened to fly over the edge of her glass at any moment. Around and around, faster and faster, higher and higher in the glass.

‘You’re nervous, aren’t you?’ Shakespeare asked as he sipped his pint. ‘I can tell these things.’

‘Are you sure I shouldn’t be wearing a carnation or something?’ Reyes checked, letting go of her straw with great reluctance. ‘Just something to stand out, make it a bit more obvious who she’s meeting.’

‘She’s meeting me, she knows me,’ he reminded her, resting a hand on her shoulder. ‘She’ll come here, she’ll see me, I’ll introduce you, make my excuses and leave if you want. You want some moral support I’ll stick around, your call.’

‘I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,’ she said, hand flying back to her straw.

‘It’ll be fine. Its just a drink.’ His smile was wide and genuine. The moment stretched out in companionable silence and she began to smile back. It was nice moment, a moment Felix utterly shattered by jumping between them, clapping them both on the shoulders and asking:

‘Mind if I borrow him for a moment?’

*****

‘What is the matter with this song?’ Felix muttered, drumming his fingers on the table as he and Shakespeare sat with their heads together, sharing a pair of headphones between them. ‘There’s something wrong with it and I don’t know what it is.’

‘Shhh,’ Shakespeare said, his eyes closed as he listened. ‘Tracking problem,’ he concluded, his eyes snapping open. ‘Drums were recorded separately, playing maybe a half a second faster than the rest of the song. They’ll fix it on the release copy.’

‘Yeah, I hear it now.’

‘Say what you like about me, I know about sounds.’

‘Listen, sorry to drag you away from Reyes, man, it was just bugging me, is all.’

‘Don’t worry. I’m just waiting for–’

‘Shakespeare!’

‘– this girl. Hey, Debbie,’ Shakespeare said, turning to face the new arrival: a tall young woman with an earnest expression and wavy black hair who’d swung her arms around his shoulders. Felix offered her a smile and a small wave. ‘Deb, this is my friend–’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Debbie said, jumping forward enthusiastically to offer her hand. Felix took it and found her grip firm but welcoming enough.

‘You too,’ he said, smiling nervously.

*****

Shakespeare made his way back to the bar with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. He was even humming jauntily.

‘Reyes,’ he said, planting his hands on his hips and exuding smugness from ever pore, ‘I would like to introduce my very good friend–’

‘Your own right hand,’ Gina chipped in from behind the bar.

‘Huh?’ Shakespeare asked, looking around in confusion. ‘Where’s that girl gone?’

*****

Felix hated being on friend-sitting duty. He had no doubt this Debbie girl was a perfectly nice woman, Shakespeare certainly seemed to be fond of her. The fact remained, however, that he’d come to the pub to get some work done and he couldn’t get back to the album he was supposed to be reviewing without seeming antisocial. So instead he was making stilted conversation with a woman he didn’t know while Shakespeare got the drinks in.

And he hadn’t even asked what Felix was having!

Debbie, it seemed, was quite perceptive. After a few awkward moments she reached out across the table and put a hand on his, a reassuring gesture accompanied by a warm and understanding smile.

‘Difficult, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘I mean, you don’t really know me.’

‘Well, no,’ he agreed.

‘I know what Shakespeare’s done seems a bit… forward, I guess.’

‘Forward?’

‘He thought you could do with talking to someone, is all. I can understand if you’re reluctant.’

‘Eh?’

*****

‘What’s going on?’ Mary asked as she sidled along the bar to see what Gina was laughing at so hard she couldn’t pour out the double scotch Reyes was ordering through gritted teeth. Looking more than a little dazed as he returned to his barstool, Shakespeare explained:

‘I’ve just set up your fiancé with a lesbian who’s going to help him express his sexuality.’

‘You’ve what?’

*****

‘What’s going on?’ Felix was confused. Sometimes it seemed like he’d been confused his entire life but this was a new level. ‘What exactly has Shakespeare told you?’

‘He didn’t betray any confidences,’ she reassured him. That was the thing, though, she did seem to be genuinely concerned for him. Why was anyone’s bloody guess but she did seem genuinely concerned. ‘He just told me you’d had a hard time since… you know.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘I suppose maybe he told me more than you’d be entirely comfortable with him telling me but… his heart was in the right place.’

‘It always is,’ he agreed, trying to insert a pause into the conversation so he could try to catch up. ‘His brain not to much but his heart…’

*****

‘You know, Reyes,’ Shakespeare said, eyes glued to the very heartfelt-looking conversation going on in the booth, ‘it strikes me you got one very unisex name there.’

‘Lindsey?’ Reyes asked, hands spread wide in confusion.

‘Your name is Lindsey?’

‘You didn’t know that?’

‘No,’ he admitted before pointing in Debbie’s direction, ‘so neither does she.’

*****

Felix relaxed and let the conversation flow over him. He’d decided over the years that there were times when you had to fight the flow and times when you had to go with it. So he sat and listened to Debbie until it became clear she was counselling him about his sexuality (eh?) and that she spoke from a standpoint of experience. What she said was heartfelt and reassuring (and utterly, utterly irrelevant).

She eventually excused herself, squeezing his hand gently as she left, assuring him that it would all work out in the end (some good news, at the very least). He thanked her profusely, saw her to the door, turned back to the bar and…

‘SHAKESPEARE!’

Much later…

It was dark and cold and Reyes sat on the edge of the sea wall with her arms flung over the metal railings, brooding. Shakespeare stood next to her, leaning on the top rail, twiddling his thumbs and trying to explain:

‘I’m sorry,’ he said eventually. ‘I screwed up.’

‘She was pretty,’ Reyes sighed, watching the waves as they crashed against the concrete beneath her feet.’

‘Don’t let her girlfriend hear you say that.’

‘Her what?’

‘This wasn’t a date,’ he explained. ‘I thought you knew this wasn’t… you thought this was a date?’

‘Yes.’ Her expression was one of genuine shock. ‘Why… I mean…’

‘When was the last time you thought about killing yourself?’ he asked, still staring out to sea. Reyes sighed, wondering if there was any chance he’d believe her if she lied.

‘Three days ago. I was on the top of the tower and the drop seemed… inviting.’

‘I’m not going to force you into any sort of relationship when that’s in your head, I know better than that.’

‘Then what was this all for?’

‘I met Debbie a few years back, through my brother. Her sixteenth birthday she has an attack of conscience, realises she can’t keep lying to her parents about who she is. She tells them “Mum, Dad, I’m gay” and two hours later she’s on the street with nothing but the clothes on her back.’ He slumped down to the ground then, swinging his legs over the side of the wall so he could sit beside her. ‘No home, no money, no hope, not even out of school yet, happy sweet sixteen, Deb. Sound familiar? Now she’s got her own place, a job she loves and a girlfriend who loves her. I wanted you to meet her, I wanted you to see a happy ending.’

‘Like yours, you mean? You really don’t have to feel guilty about that, you know.’

‘Guilty? Hey, if a scruffy bastard like me can land a woman like Rebecca there’s hope for everyone, right? I’m a symbol of hope, me.’ He was smiling again, she loved that about him. She leant over and kissed him on the cheek.

‘Walk me home?’

‘Sure.’

‘And Debbie, you think maybe we could try to meet her again? I’d like to talk to her.’

Shakespeare linked his arm with hers and they walked calmly up the hill to the monastery.

****WRITER’S BOX****
This story was prepared from the Write Anything Fiction Friday prompt: “Write a misunderstanding between three people.” All comments, suggestions and observations are, as always, gratefully accepted especially this week as I’m not terribly happy with how this turned out and I think a revised version might help me sleep better at nights.

This story is the work of James Ashelford and may not be reposted, archived or otherwise distributed without my express permission.