Jason was really starting to regret not sitting a little bit to the left on this bench. Ever since he’d sat down, he’d felt a cold metal bolt digging itself into his backside. Unfortunately, though, this was the only spot on the damn thing where he had a full view of the hill. He wanted to make sure he could see her coming. Plus, she needed somewhere to sit when she finally turned up.
He’d been waiting for a while, or, at least, it’d felt like a while, as he wasn’t quite sure when she was planning on arriving. He knew he didn’t need to worry as they were only supposed to meet in 5 minutes, but his heart still raced each time he checked his watch. He took a sip of his iced coffee to wet his dry mouth; he let the other coffee gather condensation next to him.
He shuffled around nervously and felt his trouser legs peel off the bench’s wooden slats. He accidentally brushed the handle of his tote bag off the edge of the bench and, as he bent down to pick it up, met eyes with a squirrel. It had wandered into the middle of the gravel path between Jason and an oak tree on the hill. It cocked its head to the side and looked at him as if it was about to ask a question. Can squirrels look judgmental? Jason put down his coffee; maybe now wasn’t the time to caffeinate.
“Excuse me, young man. May I?” Jason hadn’t noticed a white-haired woman approach the bench. She stood over him with a daisy pinned to her cardigan and carrying a heavy-looking bag that contained, Jason imagined, more wool than a Scottish souvenir shop. He wondered if there were knitting needles inside, just for narrative consistency. She gestured again at the spot next to him.
“Oh, please!” Jason quickly reached for the coffees and, in his haste, knocked the ice cold (and hitherto completely full) one over. He cursed and frantically threw his tote bag on the spill to mop it up before bashfully offering the woman the spot. She gave him a weak smile and put a blanket beneath her before she sat down.
Fuck, now what? It’s not like he could move benches; this was exactly where he’d told her to meet him. He knew he was on thin ice sending a GPS coordinate for a date, so he’d definitely screw the pooch if he changed his mind and sent another one so last-minute. One coordinate is forgivable, but two was sociopathic; who was he, James Bond? Then again, it wasn’t as if he was about to tell this nice lady to leave. Even if he wanted to, he literally couldn’t; his English sensibility wouldn’t allow it. Just the thought of having to be a little rude to a kind old woman made Jason’s blood run cold. He racked his brain for a solution; the lady got out a Sudoku book. Oh god, he was going to die here.
That bolt was getting really annoying now, he thought. It was grinding right on his pelvis.
He militantly set his eyes on the oak tree and remembered why he was sitting on such an uncomfortable bench in the first place. He had a date, an actual, real-life date. While not unprecedented, it certainly wasn’t the kind of thing that Jason normally got up to. He still couldn’t quite believe the girl from work had agreed to meet up with him. At least, he was pretty sure she had agreed; it was difficult to remember her response at the time as he’d blacked out right after asking her. Blacked out in a real casual and cool way, he hoped. She was new to the city, so he suggested they meet at the park with the hill. It was one of the few places you could get a view of the whole city without having to bribe someone to access their roof.
He double checked his outfit; he was wearing his mum’s favourite chinos and a smart jacket a nice lady complimented him on once at the opera. It was a damn nice blazer, he thought, so he sat with his arms at a slightly unnatural distance away from his torso to make sure he didn’t get any sweat marks on it.
“Are you alright there, dear?” The woman flipped over the next page in her book.
“I’m fine, thanks,” he responded without looking away from the tree. Maybe if he acted cold she’d go away of her own accord. Aloof, yeah, that’d do the trick.
“It’s just that you’re shaking a bit there, love. Are you sure?”
His shoulders dipped and Jason folded. He just couldn’t do it; this lady was too nice. “Well, not really, actually. I’m shittin…” He backtracked as he quickly remembered his manners, “I mean, I’m pretty nervous.” He wiped his palms on his chinos and cursed; more wet patches to hide. Bloody nightmare.
“Could’ve fooled me dear.” She gave Jason a wink and thumb-nailed a page in her Sudoku book, then laid it on the bench to the side of her. “Are you meeting someone here? It’s a lovely view.”
She gestured at the scene in front of them. Behind the oak tree was a steep and grassy slope that led to the city centre. It was so steep that, from this bench, the city looked like it was suspended in front of you, almost like a painting to be poured over. Its towering hotels sat right next to old cathedral domes and its big streets linked into small, curvy streets that were a nightmare to drive down. From here you noticed details you just wouldn’t see normally; Jason loved to show people that weird bulge over there, where all the buildings seemed to start a little higher than the rest. He’d always imagined that there was something important underneath, like a roman treasure trove, but it was probably just a coincidence.
The woman broke the silence, “My husband loved it here, you know.” She reached to the shiny metal plaque on the back of the bench and thumbed it absentmindedly. “We used to love a picnic at sunset here, it’s something special. Every week we did, just sat here with some sandwiches and watched it go down.” She sighed, “he was a right pain, that man, but my god did he make a mean scotch egg. Never quite managed to get one the same, myself; the fool never wrote down the recipe. He kept saying ‘You don’t need a recipe, love, you’ve got me. Scotch eggs on tap, you have.’ Damn fool. But you try telling a man to do something, dear, see how far you get. Always a bloody excuse.” She laughed and looked up at the sky. “God, I miss him.”
Jason didn’t know what would be appropriate to say. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, dear; he’d always complain that bolt gave him a raw arse.” She smirked at Jason and gave him a wink. She picked up her book again, but didn’t open it. “Is that her over there?” She nodded to a speck in the distance making its way up the slope.
“Oh god, yeah I think so.” Jason got up, grabbed the coffee cups and started to pack his tote. “Sorry, I’ve got to go help her with that…”
“No no no, dear, please!” The woman stood up in front of him and put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bench. “Keep sitting. Give her this.” She took the daisy off her cardigan and pinned it to Jason’s lapel, then straightened his collar. “There you go. Looking sharp.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Attaboy. Go make some memories.” The woman smiled warmly, then took another look into the distance. She put her book into her bag and walked off behind him.
The bench was emptier now, and Jason sat transfixed as he watched the speck in the distance become a dot, then a blob and finally a figure. He wondered how long he should wait before he waved at her. Was it awkward to do it now? But then how much eye contact would they need to hold in the post-wave walk? No, not yet; it was better to wait. He saw her stumble and dropped her wicker basket; he jerked upright. She glanced up and grinned, then waved right at him. He saluted back, but mistimed it just as she bent over to pick the basket up. Disaster. He left the coffees and the tote bag on the bench and descended down the slope towards her.
His hand grasped the wicker handle of the basket and took the weight from her. He looked her in the eyes. “Hi there.”
She picked the daisy off of his lapel. “Hi.” Neither one of them held back their smile as they walked up the hill together.