A Blank Page
- 3 years ago
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The Blank Page free porn video
I sat there staring at the blank page of my diary. The date at the top of the page was April 23 but there was nothing written on the preceding pages. This was a new beginning.
I toyed with the opening entry, discarding such trite quotes such as, ‘Today is the first day of the rest of my life.’, or what about, ‘Life is what you make of it.’, or ‘A pessimist sees the gutter while an optimist sees the stars.’ All appropriate for the situation that I found myself in. There was a piece of paper on my desk beside the diary and this was the reason for the blank page, the translation from legalise stated bluntly that I was no longer married, at last I was a single man, the years of suffering were now over. It was now up to me to make the most of my opportunities.
This is where I hit the first snag, what opportunities? Okay, so I’m not yet ready for retirement but I’m not young either. I have a good enough job but after I had been through the financial wringer, I’m not wealthy and unlikely to become rich in the foreseeable future. While I’m not ugly, I’m not the kind of man who stops conversations when he enters a room, I blend in rather than stand out. And lastly, while I try to maintain a good fitness level, my body is not the kind that looks good in trendy clothes.
After thirty minutes my page is still a virgin, unblemished by pen, devoid of scribble, and the more I think about it the more I regret the impulse that told me to buy the rotten diary. I picked it up and shoved it into my desk drawer and slammed it shut.
Being Saturday, the one day available for it, I put on my coat and headed for the supermarket, time for one of life’s little luxuries, food. Even the supermarket held little excitement for me these days since she left. She was a checkout operator who I began speaking to some months ago. She was polite and friendly and I make it a policy to use the same checkout when I get polite conversation rather than programmed responses like ‘Hi how are you today?’ accompanied by a vapid smile that tells you straight away that she couldn’t give a shit about you. But this one showed, I think, a genuine interest in me, but now she’s gone, moved to greener pastures.
I wandered up and down the aisles looking for inspiration. It is hard, it has been a while but I still haven’t gotten my head around it properly, when you are used to preparing food for a family to suddenly find you are cooking for one. I’ve tried to solve this particular problem by cooking stuff that I can freeze for later consumption, like curries and pasta sauces, and for these I always get fresh ingredients, usually hitting the meat aisle first to find the specials and winging it from there.
I had just picked up a package of shin beef that had been marked down because it was close to its use by date when another hand grabbed it. I looked at the face that belonged to the hand, she was cute, not drop dead gorgeous, but cute all the same. ‘Go on, you can have it.’ Fuck, that’s me all over, never fight for what I want, always give in to the other person, and didn’t my ex wife use that to her advantage.
‘No, you take it, after all you had your hand on it first.’ She handed it to me.
On closer inspection I felt that her need for this cheap meat was greater than mine. That she was cute was a given, but that she had a need was apparent for, while her clothes were of good quality and were clean and tidy, they were also some years old, she obviously couldn’t afford new clothes. I cast a quick glance into her trolley and saw that most of the goods were the cheaper generic brands, but there was also fresh produce rather than packaged processed foods. Her only concession to luxury was, and these were the same as my choices, an expensive brand of curry powder and a good choice of coffee beans. I refused to compromise in these areas.
‘You like curries, do you?’
‘Yes, that’s why I wanted the shin beef, it makes the best beef curry.’
‘I couldn’t agree more and that’s what I wanted it for too. I wish that there was a way that we could share this.’
‘I wish that too. Do you shop here regularly?’
‘Yes, I try to get here around the same time every week, it’s a sort of routine, it makes life more ordered.’
We chatted for several minutes before she wandered off to complete her shopping. A germ of an idea began to develop in my mind.
After starting the curry I once more sat down at my desk and took out the diary, thinking to myself as I did so that the incident in the supermarket warranted an entry. But then what do I say? ‘I met a cute woman today, this could lead to something.’ Was this reality or just wishful thinking? I put the diary back in the drawer.
The same time, a week later. I was once more wandering the aisles of the supermarket. I saw her standing at the meat cabinets looking at the contents. I stopped next to her. ‘Hi, is there anything exciting in here this week?’
She looked at me, her initial reaction was to walk away, but then recognition set in, ‘Oh hi, how are you?’
‘I’m fine, how about yourself?’
‘Can’t complain, no-one listens anyway.’
‘Do you remember last week we fought over the shin beef?’
‘Yes, and you won if I remember correctly.’ There was no animosity in her voice, a good sign.
‘I have something for you.’ I reached into my trolley and took out a container. ‘Do you remember wishing that we could share the meat, well we can. I made up my curry and decided that you should have some because you gave up the meat.’ I handed it to her.
‘You shouldn’t have, but thank you. I’ll bring the container back next week.’
We both scanned the meats on display and decided that this might not be a red meat week. ‘I usually get some chicken pieces from the deli section when there is nothing exciting or cheap enough in this section, it’s amazing what you can make from chicken legs and thighs and they are usually really cheap.’
‘I know, and to me that is the best part of the chicken, I find breast fillets highly over-rated. How do you do yours?’
‘My favourite at the moment is Cajun chicken, I coat the chicken and vegetables with Cajun spices and roast them, it mightn’t be true Cajun cooking but it tastes great. Otherwise I roast them, or deep fry them, whatever takes my fancy.’
‘That Cajun chicken sounds nice, I’ll have to try it.’ We walked to the deli section and both bought chicken pieces before going our separate ways.
‘You timid idiot!’ I remonstrated with myself, ‘you had an opening there and you blew it!’
I stared at the still blank pages of my stupid diary. What a sad case when you can’t think of anything to write in a diary, you could at least write, ‘same old same old’ or something similar to convey the fact that you are a loser, but then who wants to admit that to himself?
I stood gazing down at the meat offerings. ‘I tried that Cajun chicken, it was great.’ I turned and there she was, the same cute woman in the same clean and tidy but slightly jaded clothes.
Come on man, say something, don’t just stand there like a stunned mullet. ‘Hi, I think it must be time we introduced ourselves, I’m Alex.’ I held out my hand.
She took it and looked directly into my eyes, her whole face smiled. I could have sworn that she seemed grateful for the introduction as it seemed to open up lines of communication that she had hoped for but not dared to believe would happen. ‘I’m Ella.’
‘When we’ve finished our shopping could I interest you in a cup of coffee?’
‘That would be nice although I won’t be able to stay long.’
I waited for her outside the checkouts and she emerged pushing her trolley. She smiled when she saw me and came over. We pushed our trolleys the short distance to the coffee shop. She stayed with them while I ordered. I noticed her checking out the contents in my trolley.
‘I can’t work you out, some of the items you have are bulk while others
are in small quantities.’
‘That’s easy to explain, I live alone and I usually cook up large batches of some things and freeze the left-overs for later consumption while other things are best eaten fresh because they don’t freeze well.’ I noticed that she had largish quantities of most things.
She saw me checking out her trolley. ‘I’m in a different situation. I’m a full time carer for my parents. When they got too old and too frail to look after themselves properly, my brothers decided that I, because I had recently lost my partner, should look after them in the family home rather than send them off to a retirement home. They promised to help me financially but the money seems to have slowly dried up and whenever I ask them about it they come up with a whole range of excuses as to why they can no longer contribute.’
The information came out in a flood of frustration, as if she had been waiting for the opportunity to discuss it with someone. Her head dropped and she made to stand up. I put my hand on hers to forestall her leaving. She sat down again, there were tears in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out like it did. You must think me a sad case.’
‘No. On the contrary, I think that what you are doing is great and I admire you for it. It can’t be easy for you to give up your own life to look after your parents, you probably have little time to think about yourself and even less time to enjoy life. I don’t want to sound patronising here but you need some ‘you time’, to get away for a while and just be yourself, to recharge your batteries.’
‘I would love to do that but I don’t have enough of my own money, and I certainly can’t ask my father for money.’
‘Doesn’t he have any? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask about that.’
‘That’s okay. He does have money, but part of his illness is that he is paranoid that I’m trying to steal it from him, so I’m not allowed access to any of it, he guards it like the Crown Jewels,’
‘That must be particularly hard for you. Can’t you ask your brothers to give you money to get away and provide respite care while you’re away?’
‘I could but they’ll just say ‘no’.’
‘There has to be a way for you to get away and have a break, in the mean time we can enjoy this coffee in peace.’ I took a sip, it wasn’t bad.
‘This is nice, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to sit down and have a cup of coffee with someone. I would like it if we could make this into a regular thing.’
‘I was just about to suggest that very thing. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had the nerve to ask a woman to join me for a coffee, probably about the same time since I’ve gotten the courage to speak to a woman.’
‘I take it that the reason that you live on your own is that you’re divorced and it wasn’t an easy one.’
‘The divorce was bad enough, but it was what happened before it that was the problem. Some day I’ll be able to talk about it without getting angry.’
‘Consider it forgotten, at least until you’re comfortable talking about it.’
We arranged to meet the following Saturday at the same time.
I came very close to finding something to write in my diary but decided that when something positive came from this meeting would be the right time to start.
Another blank page. Ella didn’t show up as we had arranged. What could have happened?
I had just about resigned myself to the fact that she wasn’t going to show up again when she stopped beside me. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t make it here last week, I would have tried to contact you but didn’t know your number, I even thought of having you paged from the Service Desk to let you know that I wouldn’t be here but I didn’t know your last name.’
‘You’re forgiven, I was worried when you didn’t show, I had all sorts of visions about what could have happened, but it’s good to see you again.’
‘I can’t stay long today, so I’m going to rush through my shopping so that we can have a little time together afterwards.’
I decided that I’d leave my shopping until after she’d left so that I wouldn’t have to rush.
As we sat at a table in the coffee shop I noticed that her makeup was packed on a little thicker than usual and it was then that I noticed that there was some puffiness around her eye. ‘I take it that someone wasn’t happy that you stayed longer than normal the last time I saw you.’
She bowed her head and stared at the table for several minutes, and I noticed a tear splatter onto the paper napkin next to her coffee cup. She gave out a large sigh, it was as if she had made up her mind that she had to tell someone. ‘My father is suffering from Alzheimers and part of his illness is that the smallest thing can upset him and he can get violent, quite violent. When I was late getting home, even though I was in plenty of time to make their lunch for them, he was very angry. I didn’t want you to see the black eye that he gave me because you would only blame yourself and I didn’t want that.’
‘We can’t blame anyone if it’s a medical problem, but it would seem to me that it is even more imperative that you should be able to get away for a while. You just can’t continue doing this, otherwise you’ll end up needing help.’
‘But I can’t do anything, and that’s my problem.’
‘What I think we should do, and I say we because I think you need all the support you can get, is to speak to your brothers and try and force the issue with them.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I know you don’t, but you’ll never know unless you try. How would it be if I, as an interested party, contacted them on your behalf?’
‘What would you say to them?’
‘I’ll think of something. Now we have to find a place where they can’t get angry without creating a scene, somewhere public. Where do you think they would accept as a neutral venue?’
‘What about a hotel or restaurant?’
‘A Restaurant sounds perfect, and you can introduce me as your new man friend.’
‘That sounds nice, are you?’
‘If you want me to be.’ I gave her my phone number and told her that she could call me anytime she felt so inclined. She wasn’t able to give me her number because her father insisted an answering every phone call and wouldn’t allow her to talk to anyone. The only time she was able to take a call was on the few occasions when he was receiving treatment from the District Nursing service that called every week to give him physiotherapy on his replacement knee.
I forgot all about the diary when I got home, I was concentrating on how I was going to confront her brothers in such a way as to get them to agree to allow Ella time away from her caring role without them thinking that I was an interfering bastard.
On the Friday of the following week Ella rang, she had arranged for me to meet with her brothers the next night at a restaurant that they both went to on a regular basis. I could tell from her voice that she wasn’t impressed that they could dine out in fancy restaurants while she was struggling not only with looking after their parents, but to make ends meet financially.
We met again in the supermarket and she explained that she had convinced them that they, her brothers and their wives, should have a night out and that she had a surprise announcement to make. The brothers even arranged for a Domiciliary Care Service to look after their parents for the night.
I met her outside the restaurant some ten minutes before her brothers were due to arrive, I couldn’t pick her up from her home because of her father. She looked really cute and the clothes that she wore looked as if they had been stored away for some time, they were of good quality and suited the occasion, and they were not as threadbare as her normal clothes. I also had to resurrect my clothes from a storage container in my spare room, it was years since they had seen the light of day, or night, and I had to have them cleaned for tonight.
We were seated at the table when
the brothers and their wives entered, a puzzled expression was common to all four of them as they walked over to the table. We both stood up. ‘John, Sally, Robert, Mary, I would like you to meet Alex, Alex and I are, as they say in the classics, an item.’
All four of them spoke at once and it was some time before order was restored. ‘Where did you two meet?’
‘We fought over meat in the supermarket.’ I said.
‘And he won.’ Ella added.
‘How long have you known each other?’
‘A month going on forever.’
‘And what are your plans for the future?’
‘It’s too early for that.’
Questions out of the way we settled down to order. The brothers and their wives were very conservative in their choices while Ella and I were a little more adventurous. The conversation sort of dried up while the food was consumed and it wasn’t until the coffee and liqueurs were served that the conversation recommenced.
‘I’m a little concerned with Ella’s role as full time carer.’
‘And why is that?’ There was suspicion in the question, suspicion that we were now getting down to the real reason for the meeting.
‘Are you aware that he beat her rather badly a couple of weeks ago?’
‘No. Why weren’t we told?’
‘Because every time I’ve spoken to you about the problems that I’ve been having with him, you have put me off, telling me that there was nothing that you could do about it.’ Ella answered the question with a little more conviction than I thought possible.
‘But there isn’t anything that we can do about it.’
‘What Ella needs is some time away from them, it doesn’t have to be long, a couple of days, maybe a week, will probably do. All that we ask is that you two contribute to the cost of respite care. Some assistance is available through a respite care service or in a care home. If she doesn’t get any assistance and soon she will need assistance of a different kind, treatment for stress related depression.’ I was laying it on a little thick here but it doesn’t hurt to present them with a worst case scenario up front and negotiate back from there.
Guilt was written all over their faces. The realisation that they had let her down for some time sank home. They agreed to help to not only arrange for respite care but to arrange an assessment of her father’s condition to see if some form of institutional care would be more appropriate.
‘Another thing that I am concerned about, and that is Father’s financial situation. I don’t believe that he is competent to manage his finances and I would like for us to decide about and enduring power of attorney, so that this can be managed appropriately. If we have to sell the family home so that we can buy a place in a retirement complex then that should be considered, although, for sentimental reasons I would like to keep the place and live there myself. You two have your homes established, I got nothing from my divorce, and the cost to me both physically and mentally looking after our parents, I feel, is worth something.’
‘Did you put her up to this?’ I was accused of interfering.
‘Alex knew nothing of this before I just mentioned it, he had nothing to do with this.’ I could tell by their looks that her brothers weren’t convinced.
‘Our relationship has not advanced to the point where we have even considered our living arrangements, but if it does, and Ella still wishes to live in the family home, then I am prepared to sell my house and make you a reasonable offer to buy your share of the house.’ I felt Ella’s hand on my thigh under the table.
The brothers seemed somewhat appeased and a cordial goodbye was held outside the restaurant. The brothers and their wives walked towards the car park while Ella and I stood for some time. ‘You were great in there.’ I said to her, placing my hands on her shoulders and drawing her to me. She came willingly and tilted her face to me for a kiss. This was our first physical contact and it aroused feelings in me that had lain dormant for centuries. ‘You were a lot more confident than I expected.’
‘If you weren’t there I wouldn’t have been, the knowledge that I had your support was what gave me the confidence to face them.’
Julianne
- 24.08.2022
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