Short Story Sunday: A Suitable Man [Part One]

The man at number seven was having his first cigarette of the day. Julia awakened to the sound of his lungs resisting the tobacco fumes. She lay still, not  wanting to disturb Franklin. After a moment, she raised her head and noticed that he was not in his usual spot at the end of the bed. Her phone beeped with the alarm. That would make it the third time this week that she was awake to turn it off. The man at number seven scraped open his kitchen window. She really ought to move.

"Franklin?"
 

Her cat's head emerged from a boot.
 

"I hope you haven't left something nasty in there for me to find."
 

Franklin retreated and she could hear him scratching the leather.

Her phone buzzed again. It was from Barbara at number twelve. She’s the resident detective and knows everything about everyone in the complex. And she doesn't care that it's early; the moment Julia's alarm goes off, she's awake in Barbara's view.

"I've got a lead on number five."
 

"And good morning to you too."
 

"He's a writer and single dad."
 

"That's code for poor."
 

"Not exactly. Helen tells me he paid cash."

"A mobster then."
 

"You could turn a blind eye. Besides, Jools, your only other prospect is Joe's cousin Allan. "
 

"I'm not asking Allan."
 

"Then will you at least think about number five? Helen says he looks like Hugh Jackman."
 

She sighed. "Send me pictures later. I have to get ready for work."

The morning commute gave Julia time to think. She zoned out as the deejay harped on about the new single from Adele. Her deadline was looming and she was finding it hard to put together an article on how gentlemen still exist. The last four candidates she'd interviewed -- all based on referrals from friends and colleagues -- had turned out to be duds. One guy, who believed himself to be the next Clark Kent, told her he was only meeting her because he thought being in a women's magazine would raise his status on Tinder. The other, Fanie, kept trying to get her drunk, while Tim the IT guy gave her a crash course in code. Which she didn't understand. At all. It would not be easy facing up to Clarissa and explaining that her idea of a "Gentleman's Special" would have to be postponed for the next issue.

"Put those in the bedroom." Christopher nodded as the movers skirted past him. How did he manage to accumulate this many boxes?

"When can we eat?"

"I thought you already had a Whopper and a milkshake."

"That was hours ago. I'm hungry now."

Christopher checked his watch. "You're right, I'm sorry." He looked up to see a woman knocking on the front door.

"Anyone home?"

The question seemed absurd given that the duplex was a hive of activity. Christopher plastered on a smile. "Hello there."

"Oh, there you are, number five." The woman jerked her head in the direction of the number on the door. "My name is Barbara and I brought you a little something to say welcome to the neighbourhood." She proffered a tray of pies, salad and canned drinks.

"You're a lifesaver, thank you." He took the tray. "Please, come through. And excuse the mess." He led her to the kitchen and placed the tray between the boxes on the counter.

"It's understandable." Barbara's detective mode was surveying the rooms and logging all the things she noticed. "Where's your wife?"

"I'm not married. Sean is my nephew. Speaking of Sean, I think he'll want to thank you for coming to his rescue." He looked at the doorway. "Sean? Food."

Sean's footfalls preceded him. The rooms echoed in anticipation of the furniture. 

"This is Barbara. She's brought us pies."

Sean sprayed crumbs as he thanked her. 

"Ew. Buddy, eat over the sink."

"Would you mind if I took a photo of the two of you for our newsletter? Maybe I could come back and do an interview, you know, to find out more about you?"

"Sure, yes. Sean, come here." Christopher brushed crumbs off his face. "Don't say cheese."

They grinned at Barbara's phone camera. "Great. Thanks. I'll caption this Sean and...?"

"Christopher." He extended a hand. "Sorry, I forgot my manners." 

Barbara clasped his fingers. "It's no trouble at all. Enjoy the pies."

By the time lunch rolled around, Julia had written an advertorial on sunscreen, proofed a sidebar on the best way to sit at your desk (she was breaking all the rules on that score) and supervised the intern's first attempt at pitching story ideas to the creative team. She decided to forego ordering a sandwich from Lola and to at least see something other than the four corners of her computer screen. She was in the lift when her phone rang.

"Barbara, hi."

"He is even better looking than Hugh Jackman. Why aren't you replying to my texts?"

Julia held the phone away from her ear. There were four message notifications. "Sorry, I had a busy morning."

"Well, his name is Christopher and his nephew Sean is living with him. The boy is adorable, and I'm not just saying that because he appreciates my cooking."

"Let me guess: the old chicken pie and salad trick?"

"Jools! You make me sound so predictable."

"That's because you are."

"Fine, but you'll thank me when you see the photo. Oh, I have to go. John and the garden services have just arrived."

"Behave." Julia smiled as she rang off. It was an open secret that Barbara had been lusting after John since he first offered to prune her roses. Since then, more potted plants in need of pruning appeared on her verandah and nobody but John could touch them. 

She stepped out of the Media Group building and crossed the street to the Bella Bella deli. Carlo greeted her as though he'd been anticipating her arrival.

"I've put a cappucino on your usual table in the back," he said as she kissed him hello.

"You're an angel."

"So they keep telling me. Will you stay for lunch?"

"Yes. But I don't know what to order."

"Go and enjoy your cappu. I'll bring you something."

Her favourite table at Bella Bella looked out onto the garden. Carlo had nurtured the plants his grandfather had arranged before the deli opened in 1946. It was an oasis in the city, and the locals' best-kept secret. Julia exhaled as she leant back in the chair. Her phone buzzed in her bag. Barbara would not rest until she had her answer. She relented and opened the messages.

"Oh dear god."

"Something wrong with the coffee?"

She swallowed. "No, no. It's delicious."

Carlo eyed her. "Bad news then?"

"It's nothing. What do you have there?"

"Bacon, chicken and avo on rye."

"If you weren't already taken, I'd marry you."

Carlo leant in. "Say that a bit louder, I don't think Lou heard you."

Julia laughed. The first bite was creamy and crunchy at the same time. She unlocked the screen of her phone and stared at the photo. 

Christopher.

After having unpacked the bulk of the furniture, his books, Sean's toys and clothes and restocked the kitchen, the movers had finally cleared off. Satisfied that Tubby Bear had survived the trip, Sean had bathed and gone to bed. Christopher sat on the couch, propped his feet on the coffee table and sighed. He hated new beginnings, and he hated that people were already speculating about him. Barbara had visited another three times, to check if he needed anything. What he needed was time alone to adjust. He decided to reward himself with a beer, so he heaved his body to the kitchen where the refreshments were sweating in the fridge. The bottle he retrieved was marginally warm, but he decided to drink it anyway. He stepped out onto the balcony and watched the last of the sunset. 

Of all the things Suzanne had left him -- Sean, money, total upheaval of his life -- he wished she'd provided him with a How To manual. His sister's death was not surprising, just unexpected. She was a paramedic who risked her life every day, so he'd had to make peace with the idea that she might not come home. As the police said, there was no way they could have known that the ambulance was driving into a gang war. And if she'd been positioned a centimetre to the left of the window, the bullet would have missed her. 

He'd withheld the details from Sean. Not because he thought the boy couldn't cope with knowing but because he didn't trust himself to say it without breaking down. Christopher sipped his beer and watched a car come through the gates to the complex. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he could have sworn that it slowed down as it passed his balcony. He finished his beer and went inside. If he was going to face tomorrow, he'd need his rest.

Julia gripped the steering wheel. She was inside her garage and the light on the motorised door was threatening to go out. It really was him. 

"Coo-ee!" Barbara knocked on the roof of the car.

Julia braced herself and got out. "Hello, neighbour."

"So, does he look like Hugh Jackman or what?"

"He certainly does."

"Poor man. I went round to see if he needed any help but he insisted on doing things himself. And that boy Sean is just a darling. I think he looks a bit lost and sad, but he told me all about Tubby Bear, so I think he'll be all right."

"Tubby Bear?"

"Yes, his overstuffed toy bear."

"Ah." Julia pushed a button on the remote to shut the door. "Well, I think I had better call it a night. There's a glass of wine and a bubble bath with my name on it."

"Do you think it's wise to drink alone? What if you slipped and fell?"

"How right you are, Barbara." She shoved the key into her frontdoor and twisted it. "Well, good night."

Barbara was left looking at the moths swirling around the porch light. "Night."

Without caring where they landed, Julia kicked off her shoes. Franklin was nowhere to be seen. Her briefcase was bulging with proofs of the new layout for the beauty section and she still had to think of how she was going to get around the last blank page for the "Gentleman's Special". She needed a suitable man to interview on how he managed to juggle life and not be a jerk. And, to use Clarissa's words, he had to be photogenic. Which was code for abs of alabaster. If she didn't think of something fast, she might have to phone Joe's cousin Allan, who was a greasemonkey and gave her the creeps. With Barbara's admonishment ringing in her ears, she turned on the kettle to make some peppermint tea. According to the box, it was soothing and she needed as much of that as she could get. 



Three seconds later, she was plunged into darkness. She tried the light switch. Nothing. She turned the torch function of her cellphone on and scanned the electricity mains. Everything was on. That could only mean they were in the middle of a blackout. 

"Oh, great. Just great."

Someone was pounding at her front door.

"Are you all right, Jools?" Barbara was in her nightgown and slippers. "I heard on the radio that one of the reactors has failed."

"Their timing is perfect. I didn't even get the chance to make tea."

"No worries. We have a generator for emergencies. I'm going to find a strong man to get it going."

"You should let him sleep, Barbara."

"I am. You're going to ask him."

"What? No. I'm not doing that."

Barbara had pulled her out of her foyer and was shoving her onto the porch of number five. "Take one for the team, Jools. You'll thank me later." She knocked on the door hard and then disappeared into the shadows. 

Christopher groaned and tried to switch on the light. No luck there. He dragged himself downstairs to the unrelenting racket from the front door.

In the half-light, he looked more handsome than she remembered. His features looked lived in, and the crinkles around his eyes were more pronounced. 

"May I help you?"

She snapped into focus. "Yes, hello. Sorry to have woken you. There's been a power failure and we need help getting the generator started."

On cue, Barbara called across the yard. 

Christopher snorted. "She's a real busybody, that one. Just let me get my torch." He disappeared into the dark and returned with a lamp that shone light a floodlight around their feet. "Lead the way." 

She smiled and walked in the direction of Barbara's voice. 

"Sorry, I keep forgetting my manners. I'm Christopher."

"Julia."

He stopped and held up the lamp. "Julia Hayden?"

"You remembered."

"There you are. Christopher, how clever of you to bring that lamp. Now starting the generator is quite tricky for us girls..."

Julia watched him walk with Barbara to the pump room. He remembered.