Serendipity

Short Fiction ~ Gillian Brown

Honourable Mention, Strands International Flash Fiction Competition - 19  

Jaz musses her hair and grins at Luke. ‘Let’s take a trip.’
‘Where?’
‘Anywhere!’
Luke rubs his neck. ‘I need to know where—’
‘—and how far it is, the best route, the weather forecast…’ She pauses to catch her breath, hating herself but unable to stop. ‘…where we’ll have lunch…what shoes to wear? Etcetera. Etcetera.’
Luke flinches. Jaz hates herself more. ‘Okay. I’ll read my book.’ It is exciting. She has no idea what will happen next. And the ending is impossible to guess.
An hour later, Luke reappears. ‘I’ve booked a hotel on the south coast.’
‘Great.’ Hardly an adventure, but a start.
The view from their room takes in a glorious sweep of golden sand. Waves crash on the shoreline. In their frothy backwash, the sand turns a luminous yellow. Less mesmerising is the view from the ground-floor dining room, which overlooks the hotel carpark. Worse still,
Luke has booked full board. Set meals at set times.  
‘Let’s move on tomorrow,’ Jaz says. 
Panic floods Luke’s face. ‘I’ve booked a full week.’
‘Can’t we cancel?’
‘Non-refundable. Don’t you like it here?’ His pupils dilate.
She hesitates. ‘Sort of.’
Jaz thinks back to when they first met. Everything about him was intense. His dark eyes. His presence. Even his silences. It was love at first sight. Since then, they seemed to click on everything, except this one thing – planning ahead. For Luke, there could be no surprises. He always closed up when she asked why.
She tries again, softening her voice. ‘Were your family holidays like this?’
 He frowns. ‘I was adopted. Didn’t I tell you?’
‘No.’ Jaz lays a hand on his arm. ‘But you holidayed together?’
‘Never.’ Luke pulls away. ‘A difficult childhood is no excuse for the rest of your life.’
Jaz decides to press no further. Then she remembers how they divide their time together at home. Tuesdays and Thursdays he comes to her place. Weekends she spends at his. Luke has turned it into a routine, without her even noticing it.
That evening, the hotel serves a homely – ‘but tasty,’ Luke says – fish pie. Jaz tries to forget the menu at the seafront café – Fresh Scallops, Grilled Octopus or Catch of the Day – and swallows another mouthful. Through the window, a black Land Rover blocks their view.
On the fifth day, Jaz’s patience explodes. ‘I’m going home!’ She raises her voice. ‘Are you listening?’
‘One minute.’ Luke remains glued to his iPad.
Impatience turns to anger. She rips a page from her journal. ‘I can’t do this,’ she scrawls. ‘See you back home. Love Jaz.’ She plants a lipstick-smudged kiss below, to reassure him. And perhaps herself.
Luke’s eyes never leave his screen. She fills her backpack and slips out. He’s probably checking out what ice-cream flavours they sell in town or something of equal magnitude.
Heading for the bus station, a rush of adrenalin surges through her. She’ll take the first bus that arrives. When one pulls in, she forces back her unease and steps forward.
‘Jaz! Wait!’
The abandoned look on Luke’s face knocks her sideways. She throws her pack on the ground, throws her arms around him, and hugs him tight.
‘I thought you were beginning to enjoy yourself,’ he whispers in her ear.
‘I’m a good actor.’  
‘Please stay!’
‘This trip isn’t working. You know that.’
Luke gently pulls himself away. A determined grin spreads across his face. ‘I’ve an idea. We’ll toss a coin. Heads, we’ll do it your way. Tails, mine.’
Jaz’s jaw drops. ‘Aren’t you going to research the odds? Ask Google?’
‘Nope!’ He passes her a coin. ‘You toss.’
The coin spins in the air and circles on the ground. Neither dare move.
As it lands, Jaz gasps. ‘Tails! It’s impossible.’
Luke laughs. ‘You lost. That’s the deal.’
The bus rumbles off. A little piece of Jaz leaves with it.
Back at the hotel, Luke seems even more distant than usual. He has won the toss. He should be happy. ‘What’s going on, Luke?’
‘Please be patient.’
That night, Luke tosses and turns and cries out in his sleep. Jaz gets little rest and wakes late. ‘Oh no. I suppose we’ve missed breakfast.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Jaz gulps. ‘It doesn’t?’
‘No. I’ve bought a picnic brunch. We’ll find a good spot along the beach to eat it. And tonight—’
Jaz interrupts, ‘—we’ll eat here again.’
He smirks. ‘Not an option. What about the seafront café?’
‘And the full board?’
Luke shrugs.
Shocked into silence, Jaz gets dressed and follows him out. Surely Luke is the actor now. She braces herself for what is to come.
They sit amongst the dunes. Seagulls swoop over their heads. She twizzles her toes in the sand, inhaling the scent of salt and iodine through her nostrils. For the first time this holiday, Jaz feels alive.
That evening, they eat grilled octopus and garlic prawns. The moon’s glow bathes their faces. Waves kiss their feet.
‘What’ll we do tomorrow?’ Luke says.
The spell shatters. ‘I’m sure you have it planned.’ They’ll stay and eat at the hotel, then go home before Luke’s act breaks down. The holiday will end with a sense of relief rather than total disaster.
‘Dead right. I have a plan.’
Jaz lays her knife and fork back on the plate. Her seafood seems tasteless now. ‘Go on.’
He gazes out to sea. ‘First, I owe you more of an explanation. My adoptive parents separated when I was four. Neither wanted me. I was passed between them like a parcel, never knowing where I’d be staying from one day to the next.’
‘You poor darling!’ She reaches for his hand.
‘I built up an aversion to risk taking. Your viewpoint is new to me.’ Luke sips on his Chardonnay. Suddenly, his eyes burn. ‘Let’s leave tomorrow and go wherever the road takes us.’ 

~

Gillian Brown started out as a travel writer but her heart lies in fiction. Her inspiration often comes from her travels or real life experiences. Motivation comes from short story competitions, for which she has a mild – but enjoyable – addiction. She has had stories published in magazines, in anthologies, and online. Her work has won, been placed and shortlisted in several dozen competitions.

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