A date she'll never forget

Her laughter broke the silence.  The sound rose above the noise of the patrons in the neighbourhood Italian restaurant.  He’d imagined delighted squeals, a gasp of surprise, but not hysterical laughter.  His heart twisted.

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed as her laughter spluttered out.  “But seriously, I can’t marry you.  I mean, you seem like a lovely guy and everything, but we’ve only gone out three times.”

How could you do this to me?, he thought, his mind reeling. I love you.  I fell for you the first time I saw you.  You’re perfect – you’re just like she was.

She stood up, collecting her handbag from over the chair.  “I think its best if I go.  Look, you’re a nice person, but I don’t think this is going anywhere.  It’s been nice meeting you.” 

Anger surged through him, yet the throbbing pulse in his temple was the only outward indication. You bitch. Who do you think you are, Miss High & Mighty? I won’t let you get away with this.  You can’t leave me again.

He stretched out his hand and grabbed her by the sleeve.  “Please,” he begged.  “Just give me one more chance.  I promise I’ll take you on a date you’ll never forget.”

She glanced down at his stricken face.  Hesitated.  Finally, she agreed.  “Just one more.”  She sounded like his mother as he’d begged for one more story, one more goodnight kiss.  Of course, that was before –

He ruthlessly pulled his thoughts back to the present.  His mind raced with plans.  “Tomorrow, 11am.  I’ll pick you up at your place.”

He continued to sit long after she’d left, sipping his coffee.  He absently lined up the sugar packets in a perfectly straight line across the table, planning every detail in his mind.  Nothing was allowed to go wrong.

***

“Surprise!”

This time her laughter was of admiration.  “It’s beautiful,” she told him, touched with the effort he’d made.  “The picnic, the wine, the candles...  When did you get a chance to set all this up?  How did you find this place?  The river is so beautiful, and it’s so quiet.  It’s like we’re the last people left on earth.”

“I came out last night.  I couldn’t sleep.”  Each time he’d closed his eyes, he could see her walking away, suitcase in hand, her long blonde hair in a plait down her back – “I’ll always love you, but I have to go.”  He could see her walking out the front door, still decorated with the balloons and banner proclaiming to the world that it was his 6th birthday.  “I used to come here with my mum.  It was our special place.”

He sat down on the picnic rug, trying to act easy, carefree.  Uncorking the wine, he poured her a glass, beckoning her to sit beside him.  Curling her legs up under her, she leaned back on one elbow, looking out over the river and sipping at her chardonnay.  The only sounds were those of nature - the birds calling to each other in the trees, the gurgle of the river. 

Glancing at him, she broke the silence.  “You’re not drinking?”

“No,” he lied.  “I had too much last night after you left.  I’ll stick with water.”

“I understand.”  She yawned, lying back on the rug.  “I should take it easy too, the sun’s making me sleepy.  Another glass and I’ll be snoring.”

If all goes to plan, you won’t need another glass.

He started to chat with her about inconsequential things, the weather, their respective accountancy jobs.  Gradually her replies came slower and slower, until finally, there was silence.  He called her name and lightly shook her.  No response. At last.

Moving fast now, he packed up the picnic, working methodically, careful to leave nothing behind, especially the drugged wine.  He’d dispose of it all on the way back to town, in the bin behind the service station he’d found on his way here.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her over to the river.  He was a big man, her slight build no trouble for him to carry.  His breaths shallow from excitement, not exertion. I was going to marry you.  You shouldn’t have laughed.  He placed her gently, face-down in the water.  The coldness started to revive her, but that was easily solved with one meaty hand holding her head down.  She kicked, trying to free herself. Her hands tried to get some purchase on the slippery stones of the river bed, but to no avail.  You shouldn’t have tried to leave me.  You’re just like her.

Eventually the splashing subsided.  Even the birds had fallen silent.  She floated, long blonde hair fanning out in the current.  Nobody leaves me anymore.

His laughter broke the silence.


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