LUCY, OH LUCY MY (LATEST) LOVE

LUCY, OH LUCY MY (LATEST) LOVE

LUCY was there again today, outside my house, just walking by, all nonchalant, doing nothing to attract my attention but getting the full whack of it anyway. You know the kind of thing – eyes spinning, popping out of my head, heart suddenly ten times as big and pounding loudly., Ba-dum, Ba-dum, Ba-dum.

And she knew all right, oh she knew.

After a while, when my heart had stopped playing the kettledrums, Lucy walked back the other way and, of course, I had waited, kept watch. She caught sight of me then looking at her through the window and I could tell she understood what was on my mind. A connection made. I suppose I have something of a, er, reputation.

I didn’t look away. Rule Number One: Never – ever – look away. How are you ever going to get your own way if you can’t even look them in the face?

Brazen it out. Keep looking. This is me and I want you. She was beautiful. So what if my tongue was hanging out. Hey, it was a hot day.

As it happened I saw her once more that day and I was in a more objective frame of mind. I’d say her hair was auburn and her eyes so dark they were sad, but she had a long legged elegance that came easy to her. I mean, not trained and practised. I’d say she was a three, just maybe four, definitely a three. I ought to be a good judge of these things by now. Yes, a three.

She was obviously taller than me, but I don’t mind that at all. It gives a relationship an edge, a challenge.

I kept looking. “Hey Lucy, I’m Jack. Jack the Lad, Jack-Be-Nimble Jack-Be-Damned-Quick. Get it?”

Yep, there she was again. I have a sixth sense for these things and saw her giving a little theatrical pause by the gate. Deliberate? Of course it was. She was pretending something had momentarily caught her attention. Oh, look, what’s that on the floor there?” It would give me a few seconds to see her and her a few more for her to see if I had seen her. It was a message and I made sure my response bounced right back at her, it would be rude otherwise.  So I twitched the curtains an inch of two, no eye contact but just enough to let her know: I am here.

It couldn’t go on like this though, could it? My heart had begun to that thumping business inside my chest again, like there was only one thing I could do to set it free. Let me out, it was saying. Either let me out or do something about it.

I had felt the same about Susie and she was a two and Jess – oh my Jess, my love, my only four. There have been others, ones, twos and threes, enough for me to lose count but not enough for me to forget any of them, and that’s that way it should be. I’m nothing if not gallant, And now there was Lucy.  Lucy, oh Lucy.

I was beginning to act like Tom. When he sees a woman he fancies he emits a low growl, as if he’s a dog. In the pub, when faced with the barmaid’s cleavage, he actually whimpers. I’ve heard him, she has too. God know what she made of that.

We’ll be at the pub tonight. Every Friday, never miss.

Oh, I nearly forgot, it’s all fixed, Lucy knows. I’ll meet her by the War Memorial. I always meet my women by the War Memorial. It’s a small village: shop, pub, houses, park, war memorial. Lucy lives close by and I’ll be there. If she can’t make it, there’s always tomorrow.

“C’mon Jack let me put your lead on,” says, Tom. “It’s pub night!”

I know, Tom, I know.

“Good boy Jack, you kept still while I did it.”

Yes Tom, I did. Can we go now? Can we?

“You seem a bit tense boy.”

You wouldn’t believe it Tom. Can we get going? The bar maid’s cleavage is waiting.

“I don’t know if I’d better nip you to the vet’s.”

What! The vet’s! Not now man, not now. Look here, see, I am doing that little excited dance you like. You know, the Jack Russell foxtrot, you call it.

“That’s more like it Jack. You had me worried for a moment. C’mon then, let’s get going.”

And we go.

We’re just going into the pub and Tom sees someone he knows.

“Hi Len,” says, “how’s your Susie?”

“Should be next week, then we’ll know. Can’t figure it out mate,” says Len,

“Susie being a Great Dane and all and they’re nearly all bitches round here, save for your Jack, but he’s just a titch.”

Steady on, Len.

Ahh Susie, Susie,  my only four. But this is no time for reminiscing and I don’t like the way this conversation is going, so I give a tug on the lead and in we go. I know the form by now: Tom drops the lead, I slip under the table and Tom goes to the bar to order and ogle. Except I don’t go under the table. I go outside again. I’ll be back before he knows it.

It all goes to plan, except the bit where it didn’t all go to plan.

Lucy was there and I’m back under the table and I am keeping my head down and Tom has climbed out of the barmaid’s cleavage and is about to sit down. Dogs have a sixth sense for natural disasters and ghosts and when all hell is about to let loose, especially when they’re the cause of it.

Right then Lucy came into the room, as beautiful a red setter as you’ll ever see, but she’s on a lead and being pulled by a bloke, who is upset, red faced and I’ve got a funny feeling about it.

I jump up at Tom’s knee. C’mon Tom, time to go. Drink up.

“Where is he?” shouts the bloke, and it all goes quiet. He’s scanning the room.

Tom, last chance mate.

Too late. The bloke clocks me. “There he is!” and the words sort of explode out of his mouth.

Uh-ho.

“What’s up?” asks Tom.

“Your Jack, that’s what. I’ve just watched him and Lucy mating.”

Tom looked at Lucy and hardly needed to have said anything. “He’s tiny,” he scoffed. That’s it Tom give me some support. “And he’s left his ladder at home.” Steady on Tom, no need to take the mick.

“Yes but he was on the ruddy third step of the war memorial!”

I’ve been telling you all along she was a three, haven’t I. I was dead right, bang on.

Then there’s a big cheer in the bar. Hey, I’m a hero. And they are all laughing and calling my name. Apart from one bloke and I can see he’s figuring things out, doing some calculations and it wouldn’t be long now before he worked out Susie’s height made her a four.

C’mon Tom. Definitely time we left.