Old Head, Young Shoulders

By Anna Carey

Illustration: Shutterstock

UPLIFTING SHORT STORY WRITTEN BY CHRISTINE SUTTON

Maybe a dance lesson with Auntie Kath was just what Jim needed to get him back on his feet!

Loading the last of the shopping into the car, Shelley closed the boot.
The heatwave showed no sign of breaking, and she twitched as sweat trickled between her shoulder blades.

Hearing the toot of a car horn, she turned. A silver-haired man was slowly pushing a trolley along the centre of the traffic lane, to the obvious annoyance of the driver crawling along behind.

Seeing the tank-like four-by-four edging closer, Shelley hurried to help.

“Excuse me, sir, but perhaps we should move aside…”

She gestured to the car behind. The man blinked twice, as if his thoughts had been miles away. More vehicles were joining the convoy, their occupants variously looking irritated and amused.

“Oh, sorry, sorry,” he mouthed, moving to the latticed walkway. The cars sped by, the leader belching out a cloud of indignant exhaust fumes.

“Idiot,” Shelley muttered. Beside her, the man was still looking distracted. “Is everything alright? I have water in the car if you need it. This heat’s unbearable.”

He shook his head.

“No, I’m OK, thank you. I’m just trying to remember where we parked. My grandson passed his test yesterday, first go. I’ve been giving him some top-up lessons to supplement the driving school’s, and he wanted one last outing before going it alone.”

“Sensible lad,” Shelley said. “It takes a while, doesn’t it, to gain that confidence. How about trying the key fob? We might hear it click.”

He did as she suggested. Nothing. She glanced at her snazzy orange Mazda. Aunt Kath’s freezer stuff would be turning to mush if she didn’t get a wriggle on.

“Will he be long, do you think?” she asked hopefully.

“Not sure. He bumped into a couple of his mates buying headphones. He seemed a bit embarrassed with me there, so I left him to it.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t,” Shelley said kindly, thinking that if his grandson was old enough to drive, he should be well past the awkward-around-rellies stage.

“He didn’t look comfortable,” the man repeated, “so I came away.”

There was a note of sadness in his voice and Shelley struggled to know what to say. The encounter had taken an entirely unexpected turn.

“Could you text him, perhaps? Ask him where you should meet?”

“That’s an idea.” He took out his phone. Before he could use it, the screen lit up with an incoming call. “Looks like Dylan had the same thought. Thank you, miss. I’ll be fine now.”

Shelley felt a small glow of satisfaction that she’d been of use. As she walked away, she heard him exclaim, “Oh, the clothes bank. Yes, of course. Be there in a jiffy.”

She craned her neck to see beyond the vehicles to the recycling banks. Sure enough, a young man in jeans and a plum-coloured shirt was standing by a silver-grey hatchback.

Happy that the situation had been resolved, she got into her car. But before she could start the engine, her own mobile rang. She checked the screen.

It was her Aunt Kath.

“Hi, Auntie. I’m just leaving, be there in ten. How’s your ankle?”

She heard a frustrated tut.

“Still swollen, Shell. Honestly, I’m so annoyed with myself, falling over Bonnie like that. What an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Auntie,” Shelley said fondly. “You just didn’t want to hurt her. I’ll take her to the park later, run off some of that energy. See you soon.”

Shelley drove towards the exit. Approaching the recycling banks, she saw the hatchback easing out of the bay, the young man at the wheel and his grandfather beside him. She gestured for them to go ahead, and both raised their hands in thanks.

The car turned left onto the main road, drove past the library and straight on to the roundabout. Shelley found herself mirroring the driver’s actions. It seemed they were heading in the same general direction.

Two miles later she was still behind him, chuckling as they turned into Myrtle Way. The street was a cul-de-sac, which meant that at least one of the car’s occupants must be a neighbour of Aunt Kath’s. She could see young Dylan grinning at her through his rear-view mirror, having obviously clocked that she’d been there all the way. She wondered if his grandad had mentioned their encounter.

He drove to the end where the street widened, to a mock-Tudor residence with a silver birch to one side of the driveway. Shelley pulled up six doors down, outside her aunt’s more modest semi.

All three were laughing as they got out of the cars.

“You didn’t need to provide an escort,” the older man called.

Shelley closed the gap between them.

“I promise you, I wasn’t. That’s my aunt’s house. She’s indisposed at the moment, so I’m just dropping off a few things for her.”

“That’s not the lady with the Westie, is it?” he asked, his grey eyes twinkling. “We used to bump into one another when I was walking my Angus.”

“That’s her,” Shelley confirmed, thinking that this must be Jim, one of Auntie’s dog walking companions.

Kath had told her how she and Minha, Jim’s wife, used to enjoy a natter while Jim ran around with the dogs.

“It’s because of Bonnie that she can’t get out right now,” she explained. “She was trying to avoid stepping on her toes, and she fell over her instead.

“Auntie was due to compete in a dance competition this weekend and she absolutely hates letting people down.”

Shelley saw the younger man pause from unloading the shopping.

“What sort of dancing?” he asked.

“Latin,” she said. “You know, like they do on Strictly – lots of hip wiggles and frantic footwork.”

“What, like this, you mean?”

To her astonishment, Dylan executed a few nifty botafogos without a trace of self-consciousness that he might be seen by the neighbours.

“Wow! You’re good.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, “but Grandad’s even better. He used to be a dance teacher, so if your aunt ever needs a partner, he’s her man.”

“Dylan,” warned the older man. “I told you, I’m done with all that.”

The youth put a hand on his arm.

“I get it, Grandad, I do. But if Gran were here, you know what she’d be saying – ‘Stop moping and carry on.’ Well, wouldn’t she?” he coaxed, giving him a gentle shoulder bump.

Jim sighed heavily. “I suppose.”

Shelley hid a smile. Whatever doubts Jim might have had earlier, Dylan was clearly devoted to him.

“I think she already has a dance partner,” she said, not wanting them to be disappointed, “but there’s nothing to stop you joining the group. I’m sure they’d welcome you with, um, open arms! I’m Shelley, by the way.”

“Jim,” the older man said, chuckling at the quip. “Give my regards to your aunt, won’t you?”

“Will do. Nice meeting you.”

She turned away from them and headed back up the street.

Lugging the shopping into the kitchen, she found her aunt stirring a jug of iced tea. She was standing on one foot, the toe of the other resting lightly on the blue floor tiles, to ease the pressure on her ankle, Shelley supposed.

A child of the seventies, Kath’s hair was dyed a pale shade of pink this month and what with the pose and her pink velour leisure suit, she put Shelley in mind of a long-legged flamingo standing in a lake. She swallowed a giggle.

“What are you up to, Auntie?” she scolded, putting the bags on the counter. “You should be taking it easy.”

“Mm, but taking it easy is hard,” Kath countered, pouring two cups. “I had a text from Martin. He’s teamed up with the new girl, Lindsey, for the competition, so I don’t feel so bad now, knowing he can still take part.”

“That’s great,” Shelley said, putting away the shopping. “And I’ve just been chatting to a neighbour of yours – Jim, from up the road? Did you know he’s a former dance teacher?”

“Really? No, he’s never mentioned it. Mind you, I talked more to Minha than him. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him for ages.”

“No, and I know why. His grandson was there too, and I got the impression that Jim’s pretty much given up on any sort of social life since she died.”

“Oh, that’s such a shame. Perhaps I should knock and invite him along.”

Shelley closed the freezer.

“He didn’t seem keen when I mentioned it, but a personal invite might swing it. Judging by the way his grandson moves, Jim must be pretty good.”

“I’ll do that then, once I’m more mobile. It was sad about Minha. A stroke, I believe, very sudden. I sometimes think being single is a blessing – no pain of loss when they’re gone.”

Shelley stayed silent. Aunt Kath had, in fact, lived with a partner for some time, until his affair with a work colleague had seen her throwing him out one Christmas Eve five years ago.

That she now chose to forget he’d ever existed was something Shelley totally understood, even if it saddened her to think of her vibrant, gloriously uninhibited aunt being alone.

With everything put away, she sat down with Kath to drink her tea.
It was delicious – icy cold with a zingy dash of fresh mint.

“I’ll take Bonnie for that walk after this,” she said between sips. The little dog’s ears pricked up at the magic word. “Yes, you know I’m talking about you, don’t you, mischief? Maybe you’ll be able to reacquaint yourself with Angus.”

Bonnie’s tail wagged.

“It’s good of you to help, Shell,” Kath said. “I hope it won’t be for too long.”

“It’s fine,” Shelley told her. “Being self-employed means I can choose my hours. And Dev’s got a gig tonight,

so I can catch up on my sewing then.”

A seamstress and designer of her own clothing range, Shelley had a loyal and growing online clientèle, while her husband ran a successful local rock band. She finished her tea and stood up.

“OK then, miss. Where’s your lead?”

Bonnie charged up the hall and stood panting excitedly by the door.

“See you in a while then, Auntie,” Shelley said, picking up the dog walking
bag as she passed.

Outside, she was relieved to find that a breeze had sprung up, cooling the air. The park was accessed via a path that ran parallel to the house she now knew as Jim’s. As she drew near, the front door opened and Dylan emerged, pushing a gleaming silver racing bike.

“Hello again,” Shelley called. “Is your grandad likely to be taking Angus out for a leg stretch today?”

“He’s just gone, actually. You might still catch him,” he said, crouching to give Bonnie a fuss. “I hope he’s OK. I bumped into a college friend in the supermarket. He had a mate with him, and I don’t think Grandad approved of his language.”

“Oh,” Shelley said, surprised. “When I spoke to him in the car park he

seemed to think it was you who were embarrassed by him being there.”

“No way! He’s amazing. But with Brad’s mate, every other word was a swear. I don’t like that, it’s disrespectful around older people, don’t you think?”

She laughed.

“I’m not sure most would mind that much – they’ve all lived, you know, heard it all before. But keep looking out for him, Dylan, you’re doing a great job.”

He mounted the bike.

“I will, thanks. And if you can get him involved in your aunt’s dance group, I know Mum would appreciate it.”

“I’ll do my best, love. Bye, now.”

A minute later, Bonnie was pulling

her into the park. A park-keeper was

burning a pile of raked leaves in a brazier, and Shelley stood a moment, enjoying the smoky, early autumn smell.

Bonnie whined, eager to be free, and Shelley bent and unclipped the lead. The Westie immediately shot off to explore the nearby shrubbery.

“Hello again,” said a voice so close that Shelley actually jumped.

Not seeing anyone nearby, she bent to peer through a gap in the greenery and saw a figure peering back at her from the far side.

“Oh! Hello, Jim. No wonder Bonnie was so keen to get here – she knew that Angus was around somewhere.”

She circled the bushes to join him.

“I was just having a natter to Dylan. What a lovely young man he is,” she remarked, as Jim lobbed a ball towards a row of cypress trees.

The dogs went chasing after it, skittering in the dust of the baked earth.

“He is,” Jim agreed. “Caring, too. Wants to be a vet.”

“Really? That’s excellent. He was telling me about the supermarket. It wasn’t you he was embarrassed by, it was the other lad’s language in front of you. Disrespectful, he called it.”

Jim gave a disbelieving snort.

“What? I was ten years in the Army.Does he really think I’ll crumple at a bit of ripe language?”

He gave a hoarse laugh and Shelley smiled, thinking that the situation was much as she’d expected.

“I mentioned to Auntie that you were a dancer, by the way. She’d love it if you’d consider joining the group. I do understand, though – it’s hard when you’ve lost someone to carry on doing the things you did together.”

Jim shook his head, turning to gaze
at the horizon.

“It is – but it’s also important, I think,

to consider my family. It’s becoming clear that they’re worried about me, and that’s the last thing I want.”

Shelley felt a warm glow. People so often impressed her with their unselfish take on life. This suggestion clearly wasn’t something Jim wanted to hear right now, yet here he was considering it to ease his family’s concerns.

“Why not just go along with Aunt Kath to the competition on Saturday, break the ice and see what the standard is like? Then if it’s not something you want to be part of, you can tell her.
She won’t mind.”

He paused as Angus came running back with the ball. Bonnie was holding back a little, eager to have a head start on the next throw. Jim scooped it up and threw it a short way beyond her, laughing as she shot away before Angus had a chance to move.

“Women, eh, lad? Got an answer for everything!”

“So, you’ll go?” Shelley asked.

He smiled.

“Of course I will. I’ll pick her up, shall I? I doubt she’ll be able to drive.”

“I’d appreciate that, or she’d

probably try to do it anyway. Won’t take no for an answer, my aunt.”

He gave a wry grin.

“Seems to run in the family.”

By the time Shelley returned to the house, her aunt was twitching the curtains. No sooner had she opened
the front door than Kath was hobbling into the hall towards her.

“Martin phoned. He said he and Lindsey are dancing so well together, they’d like to stay as a couple. Can you believe it, out of action two minutes

and already I’m on the bench?”

Chuckling, Shelley slipped off Bonnie’s lead.

“Well, now, Auntie – given that you told me he’s ten years your junior, three inches shorter, and rather prone to stepping on your toes, I’d say this isn’t a loss but a blessing in disguise. Now, let me get the kettle on. I’ve got something exciting to tell you!”