The Colour of Sunday Afternoons Read online

  "Deal. Free lunch for a month if he’s weird. And you agree to show up at Harold's Cafe after work on Friday. Perfect! Don't worry, Jane – I never make a bet I can't win. Well, now that's settled, how about buying me some dinner?"

  "You can pay for yourself!” said Jane.

  She was already nervous about Friday.

  It was 6:35 when Joe finally arrived at Harold's Cafe. The Friday afternoon traffic had been heavy. He was nervous enough about it being a blind date; running late made it even worse. When he saw the attractive, auburn-haired woman sitting at a table near the counter, he realised it must be Jane. Although he wondered how he ever let Sue talk him into this, he took a deep breath and walked over to her table.

  As Joe approached, the manager – a balding, skinny, middle-aged man in a white apron bearing the words ‘Harold's Coffee From Heaven’ over a picture of a gigantic coffee cup – pointed at him. The woman looked around. Joe had been spotted. There was no turning back, now.

  Jane was pleasantly surprised. The man approaching her table looked perfectly normal. Handsome even, in his dark suit, the jacket tossed over his arm. Well, here he is, she thought. Better make the most of it. She stood up and held out her hand. "Hello. You must be Joe. I'm Jane Hamilton ... and, yes, my friends did put me up to this!"

  Joe shook her hand. "You too, huh? It's a bit odd, isn't it?"

  "Just a teeny bit, yes." Silently, Jane cursed herself for being so nervous.

  Joe sat down. Jane resumed her seat. The manager brought over a coffee and a tea without saying a word, then left them alone. Joe got the distinct impression that the little man was staring at them from his vantage point behind the cappuccino machine.

  "Oh," said Jane. "That's Harold. He promised Lilly – my friend who put me up to this – that he’d keep an eye on me. So watch out. Harold’s got a black belt in ju-jitsu."

  Joe looked at the frail figure standing behind the coffee machine. "Really?"

  "Well, no. Actually he doesn't know ju-jitsu. But he once fended off a savage Doberman from the trashcans, with nothing but a rolling pin."

  "So, if I don't behave, he'll thump me?"

  "Well, to be honest, no.” Jane smiled, demurely. “It wasn't really a Doberman, it was a Dachshund, and he didn't have a rolling pin at the time, so he just turned the hose on it. Worked wonderfully. Harold’s a bit of a softie."

  “Dachshund?” Joe inquired.

  “Sausage dog. They nip at your ankles.”

  "Uh huh,” said Joe. “Well, I guess I'm safe, then. That is, unless you're dangerous. I've seen Fatal Attraction, you know!"

  Jane decided maybe this guy wasn’t too bad. "You've already made a bad impression. You’re fifteen minutes late!"

  "Sorry.” Joe shrugged. “The traffic was terrible. I had an appointment on the east side at 5:45, and ... well, you know what it's like. Work is work, right?"

  "Sure is,” said Jane. “Actually, work’s been pretty hectic for me, too, lately."

  Joe took a swig of his coffee. "Ah, where would we be without caffeine?"

  Jane looked a little uneasy. "Well, I do like chocolate ... now and then."

  The table fell silent.

  Joe sighed. “Work seems to take over my whole life, sometimes."

  "Tell me about it. I’ve got some paperwork to do, later tonight. There's this program I'm doing for City Hospital that has to be finished."

  "City Hospital?" said Joe.

  "Uh huh."

  "But I'm in that hospital all the time! Who do you do business with?"

  "Oh, I’m doing a program for Margaret Hoffman, the Chief Pharmacist. She's one of my largest accounts this quarter.”

  "Helga Hoffman?!” said Joe. “The Dragon Woman?"

  Jane grimaced. "Don’t remind me."

  Joe laughed.

  Jane looked sideways. "Wait a minute. Haven't I met you somewhere? I think I saw you at the hospital, in a elevator. Yes, that’s right. I did!"

  Joe thought for a moment. "Really? I don't remember you."

  Waiting for a reply, Joe noticed Jane had stopped moving.

  Completely.

  This, he thought, was very odd. "Hey, Jane. Jane?"

  There was no response at all.

  Jane wasn't blinking, and if she was breathing, she was doing it awfully quietly. Joe had heard of bad dates but this was ridiculous. Things had been going perfectly well five seconds ago. Even odder, he thought – the whole room was suddenly very quiet. There was only one other occupied table, an elderly couple in the far corner. Joe was gripped by panic as he noticed that the old folks, too, were completely motionless. He snapped his fingers in front of Jane's face. She sat, immobile, looking quite peaceful. She certainly is attractive, Joe thought, and immediately chastised himself for thinking like that at a time like this. He turned his attention to the manager. Harold was about as lifelike as a department store manikin.

  Something was definitely up.

  At last, Joe decided he’d better stand, but before he could move there was a hand on his knee. He let out a feeble scream. "Woah!"

  "No need to get up, Joseph!"

  It was a familiar voice. Joe looked down and saw Shamus Maguinty take his pudgy hand off Joe's knee and wave it, sweetly, in greeting.

  "It’s just little ol’ me.”

  "Shamus! What the ... what the hell’s going on? What have you done to these people?”

  "I'm here, Joe, to save you from making a very big mistake.”

  "Sure. Right. But what have you done to them?!" Joe indicated Jane sitting at his table, Harold behind the counter, and the old couple in the corner, all of whom looked as lifeless as wax models.

  "To them?" Shamus looked confused. "Not a thing. What I've done, Joe, I did to you. Just sped you up. You see, as far as everyone else is concerned, this is just a single millisecond. For you, it's two minutes. I needed to have a word with you, in private, before you disgraced yourself."

  "Would you PLEASE stop messing with physics?” said Joe. “It's driving me nuts! But, okay, what's the disgrace?"

  Shamus pointed at Jane. "You have seen this woman before. You saw her in an elevator, at City Hospital. And if you don't make that point right now, it's going to wreck the timeline. Nothing will happen as it should. So, I'm here to make you remember. That's the trouble with men—mortal men, at least—they never remember significant moments. Women are much better."

  "But I don’t remember!"

  "Uh-uh." Shamus held up his hand. "Hold it right there. One moment, please." Ferreting around in his pocket, he produced his pouch of Rainbow Stars, took a little of the sparkling powder out, and sprinkled it over Joe, who recoiled in horror.

  "Oh no! Not that again!"

  "Joe?"

  "Yes?"

  "You remember seeing Jane in an elevator at City Hospital, and you remember thinking what an attractive woman she was, only you had an appointment to rush away to so you didn't make conversation. Okay?"

  "Okay. Yep. I remember." Joe was beginning to hum. He was smiling stupidly. Maybe, he thought, these Rainbow Stars weren’t so bad.

  Shamus looked worried, as a moronic smile spread across Joe’s features. "Hmmm. Maybe I used too many Stars. When I count to three, you will snap out of it, okay? One, two ... three!"

  Joe was still smiling dumbly.

  "I said: THREE!"

  Shaking his head, Joe began to come to, puzzled by the sudden appearance of a cloud of green smoke over the small table at which he and Jane Hamilton were seated. Joe waved away the cloud with one hand. Soon, Joe became aware that Jane was staring at him ... and she was blinking.

  The cafe was back to normal.

  Inexplicably, Jane checked under the table, looked disappointed, and sat up again. "Joe, you don't happen to see green smoke, do you?"

  "Lost something?" Joe ventured.

  "No, no. Nothing at all. My mistake. Green smoke ... ha ha. I think I'm just a little tired, that's all. So, what were you saying?" Jane was sure she had seen g
reen smoke, and she knew by now that there was no smoke without fire, or to be more specific, no green smoke without Shamus. She wasn't, however, about to admit to a complete stranger that she believed in guardian angels.

  Joe thought it was best to change the subject. "Yes, ah, as I was saying. What was I saying? Oh, yes! Come to think of it, I do remember you. In fact, how could I forget such an attractive woman? I mean, if you don't mind me saying so." He felt a little embarrassed.

  Jane smiled. "Well, isn't that a coincidence!"

  Joe tried his best to be charming. "How could I have guessed we would end up sitting here ..."

  " ... set up by our friends," said Jane, cheerfully.

  "Exactly!"

  Jane slouched in her chair. "Come to think of it, I'm bushed. Everything has happened at once, lately. By the end of the week, I'm ready to collapse."

  “Me, too. And the worst thing is, I’ve got to finish some paperwork tonight, as well. But I'd rather stay and talk with you. Anyway, I'm glad we met, Jane."

  "Lilly put me up to it, Joe, but I'm glad she did. I thought you'd be another banker. They’re my usual types. Rich and round ... the two Rs."

  "Really?"

  Jane shrugged. "Don't ask me why."

  “Okay. If you say so.”

  Jane laughed. "Do you drink whisky?"

  "Beer," said Joe. "And coffee: wonderful, wonderful coffee. But whisky? No, ma'am. Not a drop."

  "In that case, you're the perfect man. But I'm not available. I'm already spoken for. Would you like to meet him?"

  "Meet him?” Joe thought this was a little weird.

  Jane fished in her bag and produced a tiny mobile phone. "This is Nokie. Lilly says he's the love of my life. He goes with me everywhere, and, when I hold him close, he whispers in my ear. It's the perfect relationship. No hassle. He’s devoted to me.”

  "I'm not that close to my phone, personally," said Joe.

  "Work,” said Jane. “Work and mobile phones: I love it. At least, that’s what I try to tell myself. Did I mention sailing?"

  Joe was worried – the woman was rambling. "No."

  "I used to sail. Lasers. Fast boats. Small. Sleek. My dad used to say I could go to the Olympics. Now, I haven't sailed in how many years? Ten? Am I getting that old? Hmmm. Better not think about it. And you?" Jane sank further into her chair.

  "Me?"

  "Do you sail? Paint? Make pottery?"

  "You really are tired, aren't you?" said Joe.

  Jane inclined her head, to say yes.

  "I play music,” said Joe. “Jazz was the thing. I’ve played piano since I was a kid. Sometimes I play in the local clubs. Maybe you're right. It might be a love affair – I spend more time with my piano than with women."

  Jane looked at him. "Would you like another cappuccino?"

  "Ah, coffee!" said Joe, enthusiastically. “May I suggest, ma'am, short black espresso? If we're going to drink caffeine, let's do it right."

  "Espresso? On a first date? That’s too much caffeine for me." Jane turned in her chair, to face the counter, and called out. "Harold! Could we have one espresso and one peppermint tea, please? Thanks."

  A ringing mobile phone shattered the peace. Jane looked quickly at her phone, but this time it was Joe's. Joe got the tiny thing out of his pocket, flipped it open, and mumbled into the microphone.

  After a minute or so, he stuffed it away into his coat. "Guess what? My boss just faxed me the attendance list for my Cardiac Society meeting. She wants me to confirm it by ten, tonight. I'm sorry, Jane."

  Harold was just bringing the hot drinks to the table. Jane smiled, to thank him. Harold winked. Jane said, "That's okay, Joe. Shall we meet again sometime?"

  "I’d like to," said Joe. "Really. Can I give you a call?"

  "Sure."

  "Well, I'd better run." Joe stood up and paused for a moment. "Bye."

  Once Joe was gone, Harold sat down at Jane's table and began drinking the abandoned espresso. "At least the guy’s got good taste in coffee," he said philosophically. “This Joe Mathews might be all right.”

  Jane patted Harold on the shoulder. "Don’t you start on me, Harold! But you know something? Maybe I won't kill Lilly, after all."

  Harold grinned.

  "Anyway, Harold, I’ve gotta go, or I'll never get to sleep tonight. Thanks for looking out for me. And thanks for the tea."

  “All part of the friendly service. No problem.”

  “See you,” said Jane.

  “Sure.”

  Harold watched as Jane got up and raced out the front door. Now there was a woman, he thought, who didn't know how to slow down. He drank the espresso in one short gulp.

  It was about ten, that same night, when Sue finally called. Joe turned away from the screen of his laptop computer and picked up his home telephone. Around him, on the dining room table, were assorted candy wrappers; a bowl of still-to-be-devoured sweets sat proudly in the centre of it all.

  "Hello. Joe Mathews."

  "Joe! It's Sue."

  "I wondered how long it would take you to call."

  "Hey, I waited a whole two hours. Now, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon ... let's hear everything. How was the date? Did you like her?"

  "Well, actually, we both had to rush off early. I got a call from Kerryn. Jane had paperwork to do, so we left it at that."

  "You what?"

  "We ... er ... had to go early ... and ..."

  "Auggghh!" It was strange to hear screaming on the phone. "Joe! I set you up on a great date with a terrific woman, and what do you do? You work!"

  "Okay, okay."

  "Okay? Not okay! Do you know how much trouble ...? Oh, never mind. You’re a hopeless case."

  Joe couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. "Slow down, Sue. I liked her. We're going to meet again."

  "You are?"

  "Sure. She seems nice."

  "Nice?" said Sue, suspiciously. "Boring nice or wow nice?"

  "Wow, I guess ... definitely not boring, no."

  "Oh! Well, that's all right then. But you are hopeless, Joe. Honestly! Leaving a first date early, to work. Promise me you won't do it again. Next time you see her, you will have a decent date. Okay?"

  Joe popped a piece of candy into his mouth. In a muffled voice, he replied cheerily, "No problem."

  "I'd better let you get back to your work."

  "Thanks, Sue."

  "Bye, Joe.”

  Joe hung up the phone and returned to his work.

  He'd have to get busy if he was going to finish before midnight, he thought. Maybe he should have another cup of coffee. Just one more cup.

  Lilly had been impatient. There was already a message waiting for Jane, when she arrived home from her blind date. She hit the button on the machine. Lilly's recorded voice played back: ‘Hi Jane. It’s Lilly. How was the suit? Call me!’

  Jane picked up the phone and dialled Lilly. "Hi. It's Jane."

  "Jane! How did it go? Huh?"

  "Fine,” said Jane.

  "Fine?"

  "Fine. Fun, even."

  "Aha! Fun?"

  "No, not that much fun."

  "Oh."

  "Okay, Lilly. I admit it. I like him. Satisfied?"

  "I knew it! Now, thank your Aunty Lilly."

  Jane sighed. "Yes, okay. I admit it. You did good. Thanks."

  "So, you had coffee and then dinner, right?"

  "No dinner."

  "No dinner?"

  "No. I had to rush off and finish the paperwork I'm supposed to be doing right now. And Joe got called out by his boss."

  The phone line seemed to have gone dead. Finally, Lilly spoke. "Not cool, Jane. Definitely not cool. What am I going to do with you? There is more to life than ..."

  " ... than work. I know. Look, Lilly, I have to go. There's a pile of paper a foot high I need to deal with. I'll call you tomorrow. Okay?"

  Grudgingly, Lilly agreed. "Well, okay. But you have sweet dreams, now, you hear? And don't work all night!"

  "I won'
t,” said Jane. “See you soon, and ... thanks."

  "That's okay, Janey. Bye."

  Jane walked into the living room, dropped her handbag on the coffee table, and switched on the television. The muted cable news flashed blue and white light around the room. Jane collapsed onto the sofa. Just five minutes’ rest, she thought. It was going to be a long night of homework.

  The news reflected in her tired eyes, a blue flame.

  It was about one in the morning when Jane's mobile phone rang. The television still flickered. Piles of paper covered her coffee table. Jane had spent the last three hours typing. Who could that be at this hour? she thought.

  "Hello. Jane Hamilton."

  "Jane. It's Christina. I'm sorry to call you so late."

  One o’clock? Jane thought. Even Christina wasn't usually this bad. Something had to be up. Something big. “What's going on, Christina?"

  "It's Michael."

  "Don't tell me he wants us to push through the Freeman account this weekend? He can't be serious!"

  "No, Jane. That's not it. Something’s happened."

  Christina sounded so unlike herself that Jane couldn’t imagine what she might be talking about. "I don't think I follow you."

  "Michael went into City Hospital tonight. He ... had another attack ... another heart attack. It was just a few hours ago."

  "Oh, Christina! I’m sorry. Not another one. What about his wife? Is she at the hospital? Do you want me to call her?"

  "No, Jane. You don't understand." Christina paused. "Michael is ... dead." Even Christina, tough as she was, choked on the words. "He's gone. It all happened so fast."

  Jane couldn't believe this was real. "Oh, my God."

  "Jane, I have to go now. I can’t talk. Try and get some sleep. Don't worry about those papers. Leave them for next week. I have to go ..." Christina's voice was breaking.

  "Okay," Jane said, like a woman in a dream. She felt ill, and cold. How could Michael be dead? It was impossible.