Peggy Sue. - Gilbert, the man says. Gerald Gilbert. The woman nods in acknowledgement taking in the man's cap and greyish moustache as she turns towards him. The man looks at her momentarily then returns his gaze and interest to the sea and his fishing. He would have looked at me more than once years ago, the woman thinks, watching the man lift his fishing rod higher as if it were some phallic symbol. But now she knows her looks have gone. The drink and kids did that, she muses grimly. - Peggy Sue Sullivan, the woman says in late reply, looking out at the sea from the end of the pier. Gerald nods his head but says nothing for a few minutes. His mind is on the fish below not on the woman beside him leaning on the rail a metre away. I use to bring my children here, Peggy Sue relates. Some years back now. She pictures them as they were standing about her clinging on to her skirt or holding her hand. Five of them. All grown now. Not that she sees them much now, what with the drink and all. Do you catch many fish? she asks, turning to look at the man and seeing him intent on his rod, looks away again. - Depends, Gerald replies. Sometimes I'm lucky, other times I catch bugger all, if you'll excuse my French. He winds the reel. Of course, it's the chase that's the fun, he adds reeling again. Peggy Sue nods and smiles. -Isn’t it always, Peggy Sue says. She brushes her right hand through her greying-blonde hair and stands back from the rail. Her mouth feels dry and she thinks about looking for a pub but decides against. She looks sideways at the man and takes in his cap and greying moustache again. She'd not give him the time of day once, but now, he held a small glimmer of hope for her. If only he'd take some interest, she muses darkly, leaning once again on the rail and staring at the sea that seems to change from blue to green and back again. Gerald reels again and then stops. - Got away, the bugger, Gerald says moodily, reeling in quickly. He fits bait on his hook again and casts the line out into the sea. Peggy Sue watches silently looking at Gerald's hands and fingers working. Want to have a go? Gerald asks, turning to Peggy Sue and eyeing her up and down and offering her his rod. - Never done fishing, Peggy Sue replies. - Nothing to it, Gerald says. All in the wrist and arms. Here, have ago, he adds. Peggy Sue shakes her head and her hair follows as her head moves from side to side. - I’d rather watch, Peggy Sue says shyly. Gerald smiles and raises his rod skywards. The way he lifts and holds his rod makes Peggy Sue smile to herself. So much intensity, she muses. So much strength. Gerald reels gently. He lifts again. - Do you live on the Island? Gerald asks screwing up his eyes and searching the sea for signs of fish. Peggy Sue shakes her head. She watches as the man raises the rod again. - No, Peggy Sue replies. I just love coming here. Sort of sanctuary for me. Me and the children would come here in the summer for a day or so. She breaks off. The picture of the five children becomes painful and she looks hard at the sea. Gerald reels in fast and raises his rod high. - Got the bugger this time, Gerald exclaims excitedly, reeling in slower now. The end of the line swings back and forth with a medium-sized fish hanging. Not too big. But still it's a catch, he says quietly to himself as much as to Peggy Sue. He unhooks the fish and throws it back again. Peggy Sue watches him and sighs. - Why’d you throw it back? Peggy Sue asks. - Not worth the trouble cooking, Gerald says. Plenty of fish in the sea as the saying goes. He chuckles and looks at Peggy Sue with interest for the first time. He notices her straggly greying-blonde hair and pale-blue eyes. Must have been a good-looker once, he muses to himself, gazing at her figure now held within a pink blouse and black skirt reaching just below the knees. Peggy Sue turns away her head and stares out at the sea. She feels self conscious. Feels as if the man were undressing her. She leans forward over the rail and watches as the waves hit against the pier below. - I need a drink, Peggy Sue says. Want to come? The man says nothing at first, but puts bait on the hook slowly, intently. - Not just yet, Gerald replies. He casts out to sea again silently. Was that a pick up? he asks himself staring out at the sea. Some years since he'd been propositioned. He'd not been bothered much since his wife had gone off. But was it worth the risk? he asks inwardly sensing the woman beside him, was it worth the bother? - Didn’t mean anything, if you're worried about it, Peggy Sue says. Just thought you'd like a drink and chat. The man nods seriously. - All right, maybe later, Gerald says. He reels gently. He raises the rod with care. Peggy Sue studies his hands sideways. The fingers very nimble, she thinks. brushing her own fingers through her hair. Here for the day? Gerald asks not taking his eyes from the sea. - The weekend, Peggy Sue replies. I go back on Monday morning. Start work Tuesday. Gerald nods, but still gazes out at the sea. - Where’re you staying then? Gerald asks, reeling gently again. - Sandown, Peggy Sue informs softly. Some guesthouse off the main road. The man nods again and turns briefly to look at her. - How old are your children now? Gerald asks as he raises the rod skywards again. Peggy Sue folds her arms across her breast and looks along the pier as if her children were just a few metres away. - My youngest, Ronnie, is about sixteen now and my eldest, Kate is coming up to twenty-one. I've not seen them for a few months or so, she lies and feels a stab of pain in her breast. - Soon grow up don't they, Gerald says. He reels in slowly and raises his rod up again. Peggy Sue looks at his hands and fingers and wishes strangely she could just hold them for a few moments. - Have you got children, then? Peggy Sue asks, still studying the man's hands and fingers. Gerald reels fast and raises his rod skywards. - Got a bite, Gerald exclaims. His attention is focused. His mind lets the question go for a few minutes. He feels the woman close to him now. Her elbow touches his. He reels in faster still and holds the rod firmly. The line comes out of the sea and on the end a large fish sways back and forth. Now there's a big one, he says excitedly. As he reels the last few centimetres his arm brushes against the woman's arm. A warming sensation rushes through him and he feels a sudden movement within him. He unhooks the fish and stares at it in his hands. The woman looks intently at it beside him. Shall I keep it? he asks. The woman shrugs her shoulders. - It’s up to you. You caught it, Peggy Sue replies. She places her left hand on Gerald's arm gently. The man stands undecided. He looks at the fish for a few more seconds, then suddenly he throws it back over the pier into the sea. He looks down into the waves below and smiles. - Let it live for another day, Gerald says quietly. He begins to pack his things away. Silence hangs between them. He packs. She watches for a few minutes then looks back out to sea. He finishes his packing and lifts his things onto his shoulder. Peggy Sue stands looking at him shyly. What about that drink, now? he asks. Peggy Sue pushes her fingers through her hair and stands erect. - If you like, Peggy Sue replies. I didn't mean to sound as if I was trying to pick you up or anything. I hate drinking alone. Men always seem to get the wrong impression. - Some men might, Gerald states as they walk along the pier together side by side, a few centimetres or so apart. I didn't answer your question just now. I've a son. About fourteen. Not seen him since he was five when the wife went off with another man. Gerald pauses. He feels a hollowness open up inside and wishes it would close again. - Sorry, Peggy Sue says. Didn’t mean to be nosey. Didn't you get access? The man looks straight ahead as if searching the horizon for an answer. - She went abroad. Never saw hide or hair of either of them. Gerald sounds momentarily bitter and a silence falls between them as they walk towards the Esplanade. The Esplanade is busy and crowds brush pass and against them. They cross the road together, he gently guiding her arm. When they reach the other side he stands looking along the street. I know a decent bar up this side street, Gerald says, breaking the silence. Peggy Sue nods agreement and they walk slowly up the street. Gerald brings the drinks to the table where Peggy Sue is sitting. He sits down and watches as she lifts the glass to her lips. In twenty minutes this was her third drink. He had a job to keep up with her. She'd bought the last round and he felt obliged to buy her another. She can bloody well drink all right, he muses as he looks at her opposite him. On closer study he realises she's a drinker. It's in the eyes and skin, he tells himself, lifting his glass and gazing at her. She returns his look and seems to search his face and eyes. There's a sadness there, he informs himself. Deep down. - Get's lonely on your own, Peggy Sue says suddenly as if it had just occurred to her. Sometimes it's worse than others. Gerald looks down at his drink and searches it for an answer. - One gets use to it. The loneliness I mean, Gerald says after a few minutes studying his glass. - Night time's the worse, Peggy Sue says absent-mindedly looking around the bar, which is crowded. Gerald swallows hard. He feels a shiver run down his spine and his eyes lift to her face opposite. - Can be, Gerald replies stiffly. At least sleep can put one out of one's misery. He raises his glass to his lips to stop them speaking again for a few moments. Peggy Sue looks across at Gerald and smiles. - I suppose so, Peggy Sue says. If one were lucky to be able to sleep...If one were, she adds empathizing the word, one. Gerald puts down his glass. He watches her eyes and features. - Are you making fun of me? Gerald says slightly uncertain of himself. He watches as she looks straight at him and smiles. - Sorry, Peggy Sue says. Her voice is not mocking. She smiles and puts out her hand across the table towards him. Didn’t mean to tease. When people speak like that it makes me feel uneasy. Gerald nods. - Sounds off-putting, I suppose. He drinks from his glass again but looks at her intently. He isn't sure what to say next. She touches his arm with her hand now, he senses lowering the glass and studying her closely. He puts his glass on the table gently. Her hand is lying on his arm as if to detain him should he get up to leave. She's after me, he says inwardly. A feeling warms him. He realises that he suddenly wants her. He places his hand over hers and pats it a few times. Want another drink? he asks. - Better not, Peggy Sue replies. She looks at his hand on hers. The hands are small but strong. The fingers nimble, she thinks, draining the last of her drink. Got to get back to my guesthouse for my meal. Pretty strict on mealtimes, Peggy Sue informs. Maybe another time. What about tomorrow? - What about tonight? Gerald says. - What about tonight? Peggy Sue says putting her glass on the table. - A drink, Gerald says quickly. In Sandown some where? Peggy Sue looks around the bar. She shakes her head. - Long way for you to come just for a drink, Peggy Sue says softly. She stands up and feels the room move slightly. It’s up to you. She pauses. He is watching my every move, she tells herself. Watching me, watching me, she says inwardly. Up to you, she repeats as she leaves the table. Gerald watches her leave. Watches her figure as she moves away. - Some other time maybe, Gerald says, but she doesn't hear. She's gone. He watches the space now vacant like a car park after dark.
Copyright © 2000 Terry Collett |