Writing for Fun
February 2020
Suspicion - Maureen Rampersaud
I had a strong suspicion about who sent it but could I be wrong? My thoughts meandered through possible people.
On weekdays, when walking to the Garden Centre, my place of work, I usually stop at the Co-Op to buy a sandwich. Who works there in my age range? Gordon, the shelf stacker, otherwise known as ‘Gormless Gordon’. Who else?
My workmates … Philip sprang to mind but he was obsessed with bird-watching. I didn’t rule out Carol either. A loner who never talks about her private life. Everyone else was over fifty and well past thoughts of that kind!
Customers … these were nearly all regulars. Very rarely did an outsider stumble into our neck of the woods. Pete was a regular but would a married man with four kids have sent it? Maybe.
What about Mrs. Summerbell’s son, Joe, who she dragged along to lug the plants to the car for her?
I sat on my bed, examining exhibit A, i.e. the Valentine’s card, looking for clues. If only I worked for the police fingerprinting department. No clue with the handwriting as it was all neatly printed. I would have to take the direct approach, even if it was embarrassing. I had to know.
‘Gordon, did you send me a Valentine card?’
He looked at me, scratched his head and answered very slowly, ‘I don't think so.’
As I stared at his open mouth and pimply skin, I sincerely hoped that he wasn’t bluffing.
‘Philip, did you send me a Valentine card?’
He laughed uproariously, which was a little disconcerting.
‘Do you really think I’d waste my time on that nonsense when there’s a Wood Warbler in the area?’
Mmmm … I think that response was pretty genuine.
‘Carol, did you send me a Valentine card?’
She sighed, gave me a pitying stare and replied quietly, ‘You're a nice kid, Sue, but I prefer the hunky, fit male specimens I meet as an Army Reservist at the weekend.’
As she walked away, I felt hot with shame. Still only two more to go.
Married Pete looked down at me with alarm after my question. Glancing about him furtively, he whispered, ‘Who's been saying I’ve been playing around? You’re definitely not my type anyway!’ Well, he was guilty of something but not of sending me the card.
Joe was leaning on his car when I approached him.
‘Hi, I'm just waiting to be summoned to lug trays of petunias or whatever.’
He grinned cheekily and I noticed his long eyelashes … and I may have glanced at his toned biceps. I blushed and wondered how I was going to pluck up the courage to ask him the dreaded question, when he said, ‘Come to the pictures with me Friday night?’
As I eagerly accepted, I thought, it may or may not be him … but who cares?