Winter in July (The Tales of Little Leaf Book 2) | eBook

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Monday

My mother’s new boyfriend bought me a weird present recently. He carried it upstairs to my bedroom, a mischievous grin on his face. I didn’t like it at first and I certainly didn’t want to touch it. Mum screamed on seeing it; she couldn’t understand why he might buy me such a thing. It’s big, it’s hairy and it’s scary. It’s a tarantula. It came in a big, plastic tank with sawdust and cork as its base. ‘There’re some one thousand different species of these things,’ said Julian. ‘This one is one of the most docile, he’s a Chilean Rose.’
‘Right,’ I said, staring at his huge hairy legs. He was a plain brown colour, with black tips at the end of his thick legs.
‘Well, that’s something,’ said Mum, looking she might be sick any moment.
‘Don’t you like it, Dan?’
‘Yes, it’s… it’s, erm, yes, it’s lovely.’
‘I bought you a book too, so you’ll know how to look after him. Tarantula Care For Total Idiots.’
‘How appropriate,’ said Mum.
‘I got you a male,’ said Julian. ‘Because the females can live up to twenty years and I didn’t think you’d be wanting to look after it when you’re forty. Males don’t live nearly as long. What do you want to call him?’
I thought about this. George, perhaps, after George Michael, but no, that’s my boss’s name. Or Andrew, after George Michael’s mate who doesn’t do anything. I quite liked Bertie but somehow this Chilean Rose didn’t look like a Andrew or a Bertie. ‘Nelson,’ I said, finally. ‘Lord Nelson.’ Horatio Nelson, Great Britain’s greatest seaman.
‘Good idea,’ said Julian. ‘Lord Nelson it is.’
‘Couldn’t you have bought him one of those silly computer games,’ said Mum. ‘Like all the other boys?’
‘Can I pick him up?’
Mum screeched. ‘No, you can’t… I’m leaving.’
‘Give him a day or two, Dan. Let him get used to his new surroundings.’
I stared at him, as he scuttled inside a flower pot lying on its side inside his tank. Yes, I thought, Lord Nelson and I could become friends.
*

I’ve got a girlfriend now. Never had one before. It feels nice saying it – I’ve got a girlfriend. I wake up of a morning and have to pinch myself. Her name is Wendy. The problem, though, is that I don’t actually like her very much, and I don’t reckon she likes me at all. That’s the drawback of being desperate – you hold onto things when you know really, you shouldn’t. One problem is, I don’t know how to talk to her; I’ve got no idea what sort of things women are interested in. I’m going around to her house tonight for the first time. She lives with her dad and her younger brother. And, honestly, I’m not looking forward to it. It seems important, this “meeting the family” event, and it’s been worrying me. I get a lurch in my stomach whenever I think of it. So, today, I asked Julian for help. He used to be in the army, he was a colonel, and that’s really important, so I guess he knows about things, about how to talk to a woman.
I was in the living room when Julian passed through. ‘Oh, Julian, hi. Erm, could I ask you something? I mean, only if you have time and you’re not busy or nothing.’
‘Or anything, Dan. So, what is it?’
‘It’s about… about women, I guess.’
He stifled a laugh but not very well. ‘Oh, that sounds ominous.’
He sat down on our rose-patterned settee and leant forward, his fingers steepled and tilted his head to one side. Julian is one of these people who always looks neat, whatever the time of the day. He wears a collared shirt with a nice cardigan and always has his glasses on the end of a string. Mum’s been rearranging her collection of china figurines she keeps displayed on the mantelpiece. Dad used to hate them. He broke one once, a little huntsman with a red jacket and riding hat. He knocked it off the mantelpiece and the head snapped clean off. It caused such an argument. Mum reckoned Dad had done it on purpose while Dad swore blind it was an accident. Dad tried to stick the head back on but it didn’t work.
‘Well, Dan? What is it about women you want to know?’
Now, having got Julian’s undivided attention, I found it hard to ask. I couldn’t look at him but I managed to splutter it out.
‘Ah!’ he said, leaving back in the settee. ‘So, that’s the problem, is it?’ He crossed his long legs and I focussed on his crocodile-patterned shoes as he spoke, as if from a great height. ‘I’m no ladies' man myself but I think I can help. In a word, you need to be sensitive to a woman’s needs, and have empathy.’
‘Isn’t that two words?’
‘So be it. Sensitivity and empathy.’
He could see from my expression that I wasn’t sure exactly what empathy meant. ‘You just need to nod a lot. Women aren’t like us, Dan; they’re far more, how should I say it… complicated. Yes, complicated. If I got a new haircut, say, and I asked you what you thought, as men, I’d expect you to be honest with me. But not with a woman. If a woman asks you for your opinion, for God’s sake, don’t tell her what you think; she’s not really asking for your opinion at all, she’s asking you to say whatever it is she wants to hear.’
‘So, if a woman, like Mum, got a new hairdo and asked me what I thought of it, I’d say…’
‘Go on.’
‘It’s very nice, Mum. Even if it wasn’t very nice at all.’
‘Exactly! Even better, don’t wait to be asked. Just say it straight off.’
‘Right.’
‘Now, another thing, women liked to be listened to. She might tell you all her woes but she’s not expecting you to provide any answers, simply to listen, to hear her out.’
‘But she never asks my opinion on anything. And I never know what to say to her.’
He flicked a bit of fluff off his trouser leg. ‘As in Wendy? In that case, talk about what’s going on in the world. You read the papers, don’t you?’
‘No.’
‘There you are then. You don’t know what’s happening. When are you next seeing Wendy?’
‘Tonight. We’re going out for dinner at The Bull. I’m picking her up at her house first. I’ve never been to her house before.’
‘A new adventure then.’
‘Not really, it’s just a small house in the village.’
‘Go buy yourself today’s Times and have a read of that before you go. Educate yourself. Don’t worry about remembering any of it, it’ll just come back to you at the right moment. It’ll make you look like a man of the world, a person who keeps abreast about things, about issues. Do you see?’
I nodded.
‘The other thing, women like compliments. We all do, of course. But it’s very important to compliment a woman.’
‘About what?’
‘Her clothes, her hair, the fact she looks nice, stuff like that. I mean, some women would say it’s all nonsense and that they don’t need a man’s approval and all that, but don’t believe it.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Every woman likes to be complimented, whatever she says.’
‘I see. Clothes, hair, looks nice.’
‘That’s it; you’re learning fast. We’ll make a Romeo of you yet.’ He played with a ring on his right hand. ‘Oh, and women like a man that can make her laugh.’
‘You mean tell her jokes.’
‘Hmm, maybe not jokes per se, more just amusing asides.’
Now, he really had lost me but I was too embarrassed to admit it. Instead, I said, ‘Heck, I’m never going to remember all this. Perhaps, I should write it down.’
‘Don’t worry, young man; it’ll come naturally to you soon enough’
Soon enough? I need it now, tonight, straight away. I wanted to ask him whether he’d been married before. He’d come into our lives not so long ago and I realised I knew nothing about him. Except that I liked him, that he talked to me in a way Dad never did. I always felt in Dad’s way somehow, but Julian was different – he was just nicer.
‘Anything else I can help you with?’ he asked.
Yes, I thought. At what point does love come into it? What if you suspect your girlfriend thinks that really, you’re a bit of a dick? And what about all that other stuff, the sex stuff? I knew I was turning red even just thinking it. I wasn’t sure how to ask these questions; it all seemed too big. ‘Do you know what we’re having for tea tonight?’
‘Battered cod and chips. But I thought you said you were going out for dinner.’
‘Oh, yes, I am; we are, yes. We’re going to The Bull.’ I had to stop myself from asking him to come with me; I’d feel safer with him there, advising me on what to do and what to say, but it was a ridiculous idea; I knew that.
‘I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time. Don’t worry about it too much, just be yourself. No point trying to be anyone else. There’s only one Daniel Whitaker.’
That’s the problem, I thought. ‘Yes. Thank you.’
He got up from the settee, his knees creaking.
I wasn’t sure I was any clearer, to be honest. It all seemed rather vague. But at least he stopped and listened and tried. It was more than my dad had ever done for me.