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the last job of the day

The thud of the car bonnet dropping home followed me through the gate and up the path to the chocolate-box cottage. My feet crunched as I walked towards the house and small stones flicked up from under my heavy boots. I stopped for a moment to smell a pale pink rose; Izzy's favourites. I cupped the bud delicately in my palm, the silky petals soft against my rough, dirty skin. I drew up the scent hungrily, and allowed the intoxicating Turkish Delight aroma to momentarily take me back to days gone by, days when Aunt Marge spoilt her favourite nephew.

'Hello Graham. All done?' came a voice from the front door. Aunt Marge faded away.

'All done Mel,' I confirmed, with the rose still tickling my nose. I gently released it and approached the fresh-faced young mother. A little blonde splodge of hair popped out from behind Mel's knees and abruptly disappeared again.

'Hello ma'am,' I quipped, bending slightly and gesturing towards the Honda out front. 'Your carriage awaits.' No reply.

'So, what's the damage?' enquired Mel, frowning slightly. I could tell she was holding her breath; I'd heard rumour of the family's financial situation at the Red Lion quiz night.

'Er... twenty quid should do it, it was only ten minutes work.'

'But you've been out there for at least half-an-hour...'

'Twenty quid is fine.' I knew she didn't believe me, but she didn't argue, and handed me a note.

'So, how... how are things Graham?' She asked. Damn it, I thought I caught her eyes lingering on the ring. It had all been going so well.

'Great thanks. Beth is doing fine; doing her finals at the moment so she's working hard. I can't believe she'll graduate in a few weeks. It's amazing really, it feels like only yesterday that she had her first day at school...'

'I meant with you Graham. How are things with you?'

I didn't know what to say, I really wasn't ready for this. Would I ever get used to the question? Despite all my practising, when it came to it, I just didn't know how to answer. But how could I? It was too soon. After what seemed like an age, I realised that I had done what I always do; my head had dropped to the floor and my right forefinger and thumb twirled my scratched gold band round and round frantically. I couldn't do this, not now, not yet.

But I couldn't hide from everyone; in an instant, the only pair of eyes that would ever catch a glimpse of my inner turmoil, locked onto mine. The little blonde splodge looked up at me with beautiful blue eyes. Small, soft hands reached out and stilled mine. A smile lit up her face, a tear rolled down mine. I took in a deep breath, and lifted my head while deftly drawing the back of my right hand across my eyes, wiping oil across my cheek. I looked at them both, smiled, and without saying a word, headed off back down the path into the evening sun.

_{posted 24/09/11
updated 08/10/11}