Posts Tagged ‘Woman’s weekly’

This is my short story about a woman who finds the love of her life. Woman’s weekly magazine is a suitable publication for this story.

“Hey Joe, the usual I presume?” A young barmaid yelled as an attractive man in his early forties walked into the ‘Red Lion’ pub. He approached the bar. His electric blue eyes steady on hers.

“And what would that be, my dear?”The barmaid rolled her eyes jokingly, as she reached down for a glass from beneath the bar.

 “Joe, you’re a funny man”, she grins at a not so amused Joe, who is still keeping a fixed eye on her. “Anything up?” she said curiously.

 “Yes, as a matter a fact there is”. “oooh what is it Joe”, she looked excited at the thought of gossip.“Well you’ll have to come closer”. The barmaid raised her eyebrows slightly. “So I can tell you”, he finished. She slowly leaned over the bar, subtly pushing her chest out. “Closer”, Joe said in a deep whisper. As she obeyed, he leaned in, taking in her flawless skin and emerald eyes. With his index finger and thumb he placed them on her soft chin, she didn’t hesitate. He slowly turned her face to the side. He leaned his face into hers. The stubble of his beard grazed her cheek, sending chills down her spine. His lips parted and his spoke deeply into her ear, “Don’t forget the ice”. He said coolly as he stood back up, leaving the barmaid looking lost in thought, bent over the bar. “Right, yeah… ice”, she blushed immediately as she stood up. Joe watched her with a slight smile as she prepared his scotch on the rocks with a twist. “Can you put it on a tab, Hun,” he said coolly walking to a table by the window.

“Sure”, she responded weakly. The barmaid stared at Joe briefly; she had never seen him so intense before. Sure, he was only asking for ice, she thought, but what man can do that and raise the tiny blonde hairs on the back of her neck. After that encounter she looked at Joe differently. He suddenly caught her gaze, and she smiled sweetly, like a teenager with her first crush. Oh God it’s happening she thought, gripping the bar to support her weakened knees.

Stacey, the barmaid, had worked at the ‘Red Lion’ for longer than she had imagined. Starting out as a waitress while she was at school, she only planned to work there until she got A Levels and then off to university, far away from the tiny village of Wimbish as possible. However when she failed her exams, there was no university waiting for her, and she remained in Wimbish and the ‘Red Lion’. Now a barmaid and a waitress, mid 20’s, with insanely beautiful eyes, Stacey lived for the chat up lines from the older punters. She believed that Joe had shown his true colours just at the right time, and she was sure with her expertise in this area that she would not be saying goodnight to Joe but good morning.

“There’s a story behind their dear”, a woman, now sitting at the bar, interrupted Stacey’s daydream.

“Excuse me?” Stacey blurted, a little louder than she intended. The woman nodded in the direction of Joe, who was now studying the front of The Times. “What do you mean?” She asked curiously.

“Well I would advise not to get involved with the likes of Joe”, the woman said as she casually took a sip from her tonic water.

“Okay”, Stacey spoke slowly, clearly this woman is jealous or something, she thought to herself.  The woman had curly auburn hair, and a face that you could tell used to be full of youth and happiness. However, now exhaustion could be seen written by the track of lines indented in her forehead. Each wrinkle resembled a piece of jigsaw, in which the final piece, the last battle will be shown on her face tonight….


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“I’m serious”, the woman said changing her disposition and suddenly looking vigilant. Stacey tried to busy herself in an attempt to avoid this woman who was obviously obsessed with Joe. She started polishing glasses with a rag, her back to the auburn haired woman.  “Listen, he won’t even remember your name”. Forgetting that she was ignoring this woman, she snapped, “How dare you”, she turned to face her, “how frigging dare you”, she repeated, now pointing the rag in her face. The woman looked taken aback, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you”. Stacey opened her mouth to retaliate, when a cough was heard from the end of the bar, both women looked over to see a handsome Joe announcing his presence.

“Sorry ladies, was just seeing if I could get a refill, he said, fingering his empty glass. The women’s eyes darted from each other to Joe and back to each other. The woman’s glare was left to linger as Stacey rushed to serve her new sweetheart. The woman observed the scene silently. “There he is”, she whispered. Her vision started to blur as she remembered the past, blinking back tears, she kept her eyes on him. She was so sure that he would remember, for years she had tried to forget Joe but how could she. His touch gave her shivers. His scent made her go lightheaded. His voice, oh his voice, that deep whisper, she could still hear those terrible words he spoke, “leave me, Lily”. She remembered that sickening feeling in her stomach, the last time he spoke her name, the last time he looked knowingly into her eyes. Looking back, she wished she hadn’t left him there and then in that hospital bed, she felt so guilty to leave her childhood sweetheart in such a vulnerable position. But how could she be with him when only she had the treasure of memory. How could she belong by his side when she was a stranger to him? So why was she here she thought, why did she come back to see a man who didn’t even know she existed. He was clearly doing fine, looking over at him flirting with that pretty eyed bar maid. She had to leave she suddenly thought, it was too hard. But the ten years of ache burdened her to her seat.

There she sat, pushing ice cubes around her tonic water with a straw. He had clocked her from the moment she walked in that evening, just moments after him. Her auburn hair had flared his attention and he noted a familiarity in her youthful face. He had smiled secretly to himself when he overheard her warning Stacey, and he had a burning desire to look at her, which was hard as he felt her eyes were constantly on him. What was her interest in him he thought and why did he feel a connection with this stranger? Maybe he knew her before his accident, but he knew that wasn’t possible as the doctors had assured him he would not have any access to these memories.

“Are you ready to go soon, Joe”? …Joe? Stacey repeated.

“Oh, sorry”, Joe replied disinterested all of a sudden. He looked at Stacey, and then averted his eyes just behind the bar. A vase suddenly caught his gaze, and he focused long and hard on the flowers, he stared at them until it gave him a headache. “Lilies”, he whispered finally.

“Sorry”? Stacey enquired.

“Lilies”, he repeated. “You”, he said to an empty chair, where the auburn haired lady had been sat. “You’re Lily”, he whispered as a fusion of sadness and realisation that he had just lost her again.

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