Wide Open

And so it was.

‘Hello?’

Laura looked up, trying to make eye-contact with the next customer in a long line. It was Friday, a busy day, usually. She focused on a tall man with a beard and dark hair. He was holding a large cardboard box and a white form that he’d just filled in.

‘Who’s next?’

She waved at him. The man hesitated and then came over. He put the box down on the floor beside him. ‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘I was hoping to speak to …’

He pointed towards Nathan who was in the furthest cubicle, collecting the fee and giving receipts.

‘You have to see me first.’

Laura put out her hand to take the man’s form. He had terrible writing. She stared at it for a while.

‘You’ve lost a watch?’

He nodded.

‘When did you lose it?’

The man felt his right wrist with his left hand. ‘Uh … very recently.’

‘Okay. Fine. Hold on a second.’

Laura stood up and went over to the computer. She keyed in the relevant details. Nothing.

She returned to the counter. ‘I’m sorry. There’s nothing on file at the moment. But don’t lose heart. It might be a few days before it’s finally handed in. Can you give me any extra details about the watch?’

The man shook his head.

‘Make?’

He shook his head.

‘How old was it?’

‘Old.’

‘Was it valuable?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Well perhaps you could draw an illustration of the face so that if it’s handed in we might have some means of recognizing it.’

The man tried to oblige her. With his left hand he drew a traditional clock face with all the numbers. Laura couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

‘You’ve got a lovely smile,’ the man said.

She floundered. He looked straight into her eyes. ‘I like the way that you said don’t lose heart before. I loved that.’

Then he paused. ‘I’m sorry,’ he scratched his cheek, ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’

‘I’m not embarrassed.’

But she was. There was something about his salad-green eyes that disgusted her. Something not right. An emptiness. He was like an old sandwich with curling edges, left on a plate at a pointless leaving party which nobody wished to attend.

She handed him back his form and spoke rather abruptly. ‘It’s a two pound fee. You pay at the counter.’

‘Thank you.’ The man nodded, took the form, bent down to retrieve his box, then staggered over towards Nathan’s cubicle. He had a funny walk, Laura observed. Her next customer arrived and passed over his slip. She took it, but her eyes were focused, with some disquiet, on Nathan and on the man.

Nathan had been thinking about his lunch. His stomach had been growling. He checked his watch. Someone handed him a slip.

‘That’ll be two pounds, please.’

He looked up. His jaw went slack.

‘It’s me,’ the other Ronny said, ‘like a bad coin. Back again.’

Nathan snapped up his jaw and struggled to contain his surprise. ‘You shouldn’t have come back,’ he said quietly, ‘not so soon. Things are too complicated.’

‘Why?’ the other Ronny looked confounded, ‘Why are things complicated?’

Nathan cleared his throat. ‘I’ll have to tell Margery.’

‘Margery who?’

Nathan passed his hand in front of his eyes. ‘Don’t kid around with me, James.’

‘No. Not James. I’m Ronny. Remember? Call me Ronny.’

Nathan shifted on his stool. ‘Don’t be stupid …’ he was virtually whispering now, ‘we’ve already had this conversation.’

The other Ronny smiled. His teeth were immaculate. ‘I’m Ronny,’ he said softly. ‘You gave me his shoes.’

‘What?’ Nathan looked mortified.

‘His shoes. You gave them to me. Three weeks ago.’

Nathan put his hand to his face. His cheeks were hot. He looked around, vaguely panicked. He caught Laura’s eye. His blush went deeper.

‘They weren’t his shoes. You have no reason to think that they were. Anyway, I told you quite clearly last time you came here that if you returned then I would have to call Margery. I made a promise.’

The other Ronny nodded. He obviously remembered. ‘You did tell me that last time, but then you went straight ahead and gave me his shoes. His white shoes.’

There was no hint of malice in the other Ronny’s voice. Nathan made his hands into fists on his lap. He knew that there was never malice. Not ever. He took a deep breath. ‘I covered up for you before. Not again. And they weren’t his shoes. They’re your shoes.’

‘He told me they were his shoes. He said he wore them for work. He’s shorter than me but his feet are larger than mine. I have very small feet.’