They first crossed paths in a little coffee shop on Brick Lane. She was perched at a corner table, waiting for a friend, a steaming mug of tea in front of her and a scone on a plate. He drifted in for a cuppa and a moment to ponder his next move in life.
She was a striking young lady, and he was a goodlooking chap who never minded striking up a chat with any girl. He liked her instantly, and it seemed she felt the same.
May I join you? he asked, his tone leaving no room for a no.
Sure, but Im expecting a friend, so you wont have to linger long.
Im not in a hurry. I just need a few minutes to introduce ourselves and swap phone numbers.
And who told you Id hand over my number? she replied, breaking off a bite of the scone.
Because you love sweets, and only decent folk enjoy sweets. That makes us a perfect match Im a sweettooth myself.
So youre a decent chap then? she laughed.
Absolutely. Cant you see? Im a very kind and lovely person, he said, taking a sip of his tea.
Ive never seen anyone so full of himself.
And Ive never laid eyes on a beauty like you.
Poppy, she said, extending her hand.
Jack, he answered, taking her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and planting a kiss so fervent it left Poppy feeling a little flushed.
Listen, she said, are you not being a bit forward with a complete stranger?
Im not forward, Im just enthusiastic. And besides, its not a stranger its the most charming woman in the room.
Alas, not a lady but a wife, Poppy showed the wedding band on her left hand. Im married!
And what? Has anyone ever stopped a man before? One day youre married, the next youre not. Marriage these days is as fragile as a tea bag in hot water.
Well, my family believes marriage is forever. So, dear fellow, I think its time we part ways.
What are you saying? I feel theres no point in us keeping each other company. Lets at least exchange numbers it doesnt bind us to anything. If we ever want to talk again, well need a number.
Youre quite confident. Why should I think youll give me yours?
Im not confident, Im just straightforward. If we like each other, why not meet again? he said with a grin so charming Poppy could barely resist.
Alright, write it down, she instructed, dictating her number.
Ill call you now and youll have my number saved. Keep it; youll need it later.
Fine, Ill keep it safe. Now you should move to another table I see my friend arriving, and I dont need any extra gossip.
No worries, I get the picture. Ill disappear, but well meet again someday.
Jack grabbed his mug and slipped into the far corner of the shop.
A week later Jack rang Poppy. Shed been waiting for his call, so she agreed to meet again at the same café.
Poppy, Jack began, Id love to get to know you better.
Jack, Im married. I work as a nurse, and technically I could go out with you, but I have a husband. Hes rather jealous. David served overseas as a contract soldier, now runs a youthcombat club. Hes strong, proud, and carries me like a queen. Id never cheat besides, I abhor infidelity; its downright dangerous.
Poppy, Im smitten with you and cant just walk away. Im a software developer, I dont wield any weapons, but Im not scared of your husband. I just want to be friends, maybe more.
Jack earned enough at his modest tech firm to change his romantic prospects as often as one changes socks. He was a perpetual bachelor, never missing a chance to chat up a pretty face and Poppy was no exception. He felt sure she might feel something for him too, and he was determined to make it happen.
They met again, and that set the tone for what followed.
She told her husband shed be on night duty at the hospital, but stayed the night at Jacks flat. Neither noticed the way they fell for each other, and soon they were meeting whenever they could.
One evening Poppy called.
My husbands away on a competition for a week, so Im expecting you at my place tonight.
Is that safe? Maybe we could meet at my flat, as usual.
No, I want you here. Ill cook a romantic dinner, and we can be proper humans together. Im fed up with your bachelor den!
Alright, Ill be there this evening.
That night, Jack arrived at Poppys door bearing a bouquet, a bottle of champagne, a fine wine, a cake and a box of chocolates. She had prepared a delightful meal; the bubbles and wine loosened them up, and after dinner they retreated to the bedroom. The night promised romance equal to the candlelit dinner.
At twoa.m. a terrible knock rattled the door. They leapt from the bed, bewildered. Poppy peered through the peephole:
Its my husband, Jack its over! Hide!
Where?
I dont know, figure it out!
Whos there? Poppy asked, halfasleep.
Poppy, open up, you recognise me? slurred a drunken voice from the hallway. I left my keys at work, so Im banging. Open up quick.
What do we do? Poppy, trembling, looked at Jack.
Open the door, what else can we do? replied the palelooked lover.
Jack shoved his belongings under the bed and, in his underwear, darted into the bathroom.
Where did you get so drunk? Poppy shouted. Why didnt you leave?
The bus broke down, the lads had to hitch rides home, so we stopped for a drink at a local bar and got stuck.
Just a little drink, Poppy scoffed, you cant even stand!
Dont worry, love, Ive got it under control. I just need the loo.
Use it tomorrow, Poppy commanded. Now go back to bed!
Darling, I need the loo now! pleaded David, the husband.
In his drunken bliss David belted out a booming bass tune:
No, no, no, I want it now, no, no, no!
He stumbled toward the toilet. Who thought combining a bath and a loo was clever? A toilet next to a bathtub makes no sense, yet it exists in many flats including Poppys, and now David headed straight for Jack.
Poppy froze, unable to speak. Fear gripped her; she imagined the worst and closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable. Yet no sound came from the bathroom. How could David not see Jack? Where could he be hidden in that tiny room?
The bathroom walls rose halfway up, tiled and capped with a sturdy ledge. Jack scrambled onto the ledge, stretched his legs, and sprawled flat against the wall, clutching the tiles for balance.
David, eyes glued to the toilet, never noticed him. He climbed onto the porcelain throne and kept singing his nonsense. Poppy, clueless, stood by the bathroom door shaking like a leaf.
When Jack saw Davids massive fists and towering frame, he realised if David spotted him it would be his final love affair perhaps his last day. He froze, holding his breath.
David lingered, humming, unwilling to leave the loo. The smell of the toilet and the sting of alcohol rose, tickling Jacks nose. He tried to pull a hand away to wipe his nose, but his grip slipped and he began to fall. Falling meant landing in the arms of a jealous husband who looked more like a giant than a man. He managed a mighty sneeze; the tiny bathroom amplified it into a thunderclap.
Startled, David looked up and saw a painted crucifix in the corner of the bathroom. Believing it to be a sign, he panicked, flailed his arms, and tumbled off the toilet, fainting on the floor.
Seeing his opponent out of the picture, Jack seized the moment, vaulted off the ledge and bolted out of the bathroom. Poppy stood pale, bewildered by the chaos.
Jack snatched his things, sprinted down the stairs in his underwear, clutching his bag, and burst out of the building. Though Poppy lived on the twelfth floor of a thirtystorey block with two highspeed lifts, Jack didnt wait for an elevator the fear of Davids wrath propelled him faster than any lift could.
A few minutes later David came to his senses, looked up, saw nothing.
Drink less, Poppy chided him later, when he recounted his nights vision.
