I suppose I was curious about that damned letter. Who wouldn’t be? It was addressed to me, after all, and it was meant to hold all the secrets to my dazzling future. In that situation I’d defy anyone not to want to know what was held within that envelope. Part of me saw it as an elaborate joke and I wondered if that was what the funny gorgeous stranger had intended, but there was also a small part of me that couldn’t help thinking that he might know something I didn’t. Wouldn’t that be cool? To think my whole life was known to someone else but not to me?
The thing was, I’d managed to catch a few tantalising snippets which had only stirred my interest more, but as I’d craned my head to read further, the ‘all-knowing one’ had pulled an arm around the sheet of paper as he wrote, blocking my view to what he was furiously scribbling down.
You think that’s mad?
pretty momentous
mind-blowing to say the least.
secrets … hidden
Forever.
… not only me involved
stalkerish
at my side
tomorrow …
Stalkerish? What the hell! And tomorrow? Well today was tomorrow, if you get my drift, and that letter had my name written all over it – so where was the problem?
In the late morning chill of an April morning, the wine bar looked far less salubrious than it had the previous evening. There was an air of neglect and disappointment about the place as though it was carefully nurturing its own hangover, a bit like me, but I wasn’t worried about that. There was only one thing on my mind and that was getting my hands on that letter.
Through the tinted windows, my hands held up to the glass, I saw a young woman in black trousers, black top and white apron behind the bar, wiping down tops and polishing glasses. I took the opportunity, pushing through the door with my shoulder.
‘Sorry, we’re not actually open yet.’ The woman turned, glancing at her watch. ‘If you could come back in half an hour we should be ready for you.’
She probably thought I had a drink problem, it was only ten-thirty in the morning.
‘Oh no, I don’t want a drink. It’s just that I was in here last night and I left something behind.’
‘Ah okay. What was it? I’ll take a look for you.’
‘It was an envelope with my name on it. Jen Faraday. The guy I was with left it behind the bar for me.’
Her eyebrows flickered at me doubtfully before she wandered off, straight to the till, where she retrieved the envelope from the small gap down the side and waved it in the air.
‘This is it, isn’t it,’ she said, still holding it aloft.
‘Yes, thank you.’
I held out my hand to take it off her, but she snatched it away, a triumphant smile on her face.
‘I’m really sorry, but I can’t give it to you. It says quite clearly on here, “not to be opened until April 2016”. That’s a year away. Sorry,’ she said, far too delightedly for her own good.
‘Yes, but it is actually my envelope, for me,’ I said, getting irritated now by her unwavering presence between me and the letter. ‘Could I just have it please?’
‘No.’
‘Right.’ I leant over and snatched it out of her hands – quick as a ninja warrior, she snatched it right back again. For a moment there I thought about tackling her, grappling her to the floor, and reclaiming what was rightfully mine, but I was worried about being arrested and ending up in a prison cell for common assault. Besides, weighing up the situation, she seemed so much more agile and fitter than me and I had a suspicion I would be the one to come off worse in any wrestling competition.
‘Right,’ I said again, with authority this time. ‘Just to let you know, I will be speaking to your manager about this.’
‘I am the manager.’
‘Right. Well that’s fine. Absolutely fine.’
I turned on my tail and marched out that wine bar, determined never to set foot in there again. Well not for another year at least. That’s if I hadn’t forgotten all about that wretched letter by then.