The Girl Who's Never Had a Valentine by Elizabeth Player Page B

on her pretty face, eyes staring dead ahead as she drove off. The young man kicked at the ground and walked over to his own car, got in and drove away. Sideshow over. I wondered what the argument was about. Lovers’ tiff on Valentine’s Day. The telephone rang, it was Mum.
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜Hello, Beth, can’t do lunch today, love, I’ve got to collect jumble for the WI… Completely forgot about that. Sunday dinner tomorrow?’
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜Yes, lovely. I’ll look forward to it … the only decent meal I get all week.’
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜You know you can come and live here … Don’t know why you want to live in that flat all on your own.’
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜See you tomorrow, Mum … Love you.’
    Â Â Â Â Â My mum is the kindest, most decent human being on the planet and of course I love her, but live with her? No thanks! A girl needs her own space, it’s essential. And even though the flat cost most of what I was earning, it was worth it for my sanity. Anyway, if I lived at home I’d be back up to a size sixteen before you could say homemade scones with a dollop of clotted cream. One more glance at the card and another peek inside. I had to admit, it was a tad juvenile. Or, possibly, the hand of an educated, arty type. It could be that of a nutter. Whatever, I was now the proud owner of my very first Valentine’s card and it was quite a thrill. However, my secret admirer did appear to have a few flaws. He couldn’t spell and his taste in cards was awful. But that didn’t matter, he was a romantic, with poetic leanings and he was obviously besotted with me!
    Â Â Â Â Â A trip to the supermarket, forty minutes in the gym, then home to put my feet up for the afternoon. Heaven! Turning into the car park, I drove to my usual spot and saw the young man from the fracas that morning leaning on the bonnet of his car, texting away. As I wrestled with the shopping from the boot of my car he glanced up and smiled. I reciprocated and as I yanked at the nearest flimsy plastic bag, it ripped and a large jar of mayonnaise clattered to the Tarmac, cracking and splattering into a big gooey mess. So much for the half-price offer.
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜Oh! No! … You …!’ I couldn’t help but yell out, and would most certainly have been muttering a string of expletives to myself had he not been within earshot.
    Â Â Â Â Â The handsome young man with the long brown hair slipped his phone into his pocket and rushed to my aid.
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜You wouldn’t think mayonnaise could make so much mess. Here, let me help you.’ He sounded American. He bent to assist in collecting up the stray items of shopping. I felt such a fool.
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜Thanks! Leave the glass … I’ll get a bucket and some newspaper to clear that up.’ A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜Trouble is, the plastic bags are just not strong enough. No stamina and no guts,’ I laughed and he smiled.
    Before reaching into the boot of my car for the other bags, he offered his hand. ‘Luke… pleased to meet you!’
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜Beth … I live on the second floor.’ As we shook, I gazed up into his handsome face in a shy, girly fashion. It felt alien but I couldn’t stop myself doing it and I blushed furiously. I managed to smile and hopefully not look like a simpleton. I asked, ‘Are you new here, Luke? I haven’t seen you around before?’
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜No… Not exactly. I’ve been seeing quite a bit of one of your neighbours and she’s out … I need to get into her apartment to get some of my stuff.’
    Â Â Â Â Â â€˜Oh! I see.’ I attempted to sound surprised and allowed Luke to help me upstairs with my shopping bags. I fumbled in my bag for the