The 23rd June
by
Kurt Ulmer
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Published by Kurt Ulmer Publishing on smashwords.com
Copyright © 2011 by Kurt Ulmer
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
Disclaimer
This short story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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The 23rd June
The Queensland sun does things to people. Everybody is tanned, relaxed and wants to talk. That’s alright with me. I am a waiter in a busy tourist restaurant and it’s my job to listen. People want me to know the most amazing, the weirdest and sometimes very private things when they are on holidays. Monday nights are the quietest nights and listening helps pass the time. If my diners look like cheapskates, I look at my watch a few times. They get the hint. I can knock off early and go to the pub. This is last Monday’s story. A love story and it’s a bit private, so please keep it to yourself.
On table seven, a honeymoon couple, you can tell by the shiny gold rings, won’t be having dessert here. Honeymooners never order sweets and will have afters in their unit. Two sales reps are yarning. No tips there, so if I give them the bill, they’ll adjourn to the bar.
We have only one more booking to come. For 7.30, a bit late for my liking. Oh dear! A couple of oldies! We’ll be here all bloody night. Smart dresser him. Classy dresser her. Good for a tip? I could do with the money.
I show them to their table and offer them any other table. The window nook? Very private. Intimate. Honeymoon couple? He is in his seventies. She’s a bit younger.
He orders Perrier mineral water and she a Whiskey Mac.
A Whiskey Mac, Madam?
Whiskey and Stone’s Green Ginger Wine.
Ginger beer, Madam?
Green Ginger Wine.
Aha!
The barman gives me a filthy look. What’s in a Whiskey Mac?
I explain. He doesn’t like it when I know stuff.
Just as you ordered, Madam and Sir. One Perrier and a Whiskey Mac. Enjoy. Have you made a decision on the starters? I can let you have a look at the specials board or …. ?
One dozen oysters naturel for Sir. Right and? Oysters Kilpatrick for Madam. Excellent choice. Sir?
The 250 g wagyu steak with jacket potato. Medium rare.
Madam?
Lemon grass Red Snapper fillets.
You’ll make a decision about sweets later?
The honeymoon couple gone (no tip) and the sales reps (Surprise! $5 tip) are getting tanked at the bar.
The oldies have eaten their oysters. Time for a chat.
The oysters were to your liking?
Yes, very much.
Come on give me an opening!!!
Sydney Rock oysters are much smaller than our Tasmanian oysters.
Tasmania! Thank you for the opening.
You are Tasmanians. My Mum and Dad had their honeymoon in Tasmania. Davenport.
Devonport.
Devonport?
Devonport.
You are from?
Hobart.
My, you are a long way from home. On your honeymoon?
Anniversary she confides.
Golden wedding?
No, no, no he protests. First anniversary.
She must have seen a curious look on my face and explains.
We have known each other since the 23rd June 1980.
It was a Monday. He smiles and looks at the empty bottle of Perrier.
I have a special favour to ask… er…
Julian. At your service.
I’m David. My wife Helen.
Pleased to meet you David and Helen. Chances of a tip are getting better.
A favour? Anything within my power. Anything at all.
A champagne bucket with ice and two champagne flutes please.
Bollinger? Veuve Cliquot? I can do you a reasonable price Krug.
Maybe after. We’ll see.
After?
First a large bottle of Perrier on ice please.
Coming up. Special favour. Good for a tip!
The barman hates me now.
David tastes the water. I get the nod and pour Helen a glass, then him.
The bubbles are surprising. Much larger than champagne bubbles. They rise, pop out of the water and burst.
Fascinating I say. Lovely bubbles.
David looks at his watch and they wait. 7.45 PM. They toast each other and look at each other the way lovers do. They know something I don’t know and I need to know. Out of curiosity and because of the tip.
It’s the Perrier, isn’t it?
Yes, Helen confides. It’s the Perrier. David was drinking Perrier at a function on the….
I know: the 23rd June 1980. Don’t go away. I’ll just see how the main course is coming along.
I let them eat their main courses in peace, take away the empty Perrier and bring another. The bubbles are still nice and I jiggle the bottle in the bucket.
You must tell me all about how you met. I clear the plates and cutlery.
How was the fish, Helen? You sure cleaned it up.
It was very nice, thank you. I could taste the sea.
My steak was nice and tender, David feels obliged to add. Oops. Mustn’t flirt with the lady too much!
I come back and suggest waiting a bit before ordering sweets.
So how did you two meet?
Well, David says. I saw Helen for the first time at the Law Society Annual Dinner. I was sitting at the head table. I could feel someone watching me. There was this woman at the back of the room. Our eyes met. She didn't look away. I did but when I looked again in her direction our eyes met once more. She kept looking at me. I lean one way, she does the same. She stalked me with her eyes. I was intrigued and annoyed so I scowled at her and she stopped looking. She was distracting me from my duties at the head table. I introduced the speaker.
But then, after the dinner, you came to my table and introduced yourself.
There were knowing smiles from your colleagues. I was a little…. well bewildered. They knew something I didn't know.
Smitten you were. Admit it. You were flattered at my attention.
They are reminiscing. How sweet. Shut up. Let them talk. I sit quietly.
So, I finally know your name.
Finally? What do you mean, finally?
You work at 152 Davey Street. You have lunch at the Freemasons’ on Fridays. You have a wholemeal sandwich and strawberry Fruche for lunch most days. You drive a Lotus. I like that.
Have you been stalking me?
No. Just interested.
I am a married man.
I am a married woman. Can I have a sip of you Perrier?
I’ll get you a fresh one.
Make that a Whiskey Mac as well.
Whiskey Mac?
The barman knows.
I brought you the Whiskey Mac and the Perrier.
And then for some reason or other, you read the Perrier label.
I had to. And everything changed after that. It was an omen.
You always were a bit superstitious. Admit it, you still are.
No I’m not. I follow my instincts. I told you about the day when I stopped at Campbelltown to stretch my legs. I walked into the cemetery, I don’t know why and straight to a grave. And what did I see?
Tell Julian.
A young woman’s headstone. That day was the anniversary of her death. She had died on the 23rd June 1885 in her 19th year.
It’s the Perrier. It’s all about the 23rd of June and the Perrier?
It was time for me to interrupt. After all I have a job to do.
So what may I bring you to really celebrate?
Darling?
Veuve Cliquot.
Veuve Cliquot it is.
Thank God for that. I get a bucket, ice, two glasses and the $195 champagne. The barman loves me now.
David tastes and I pour Helen a glass and then David.
They toast each other and David puts the full glass down.
A bit of a waste of good champagne.
So where were we?
Both in stable relationships.
No. Before that, Helen. About the Perrier label.
Ah, yes. Emperor Napoleon III granted Alphonse Granier the rights to a mineral spring in on the 23rd of June 1863 and that was the birth of a business later named Perrier.
I don’t drink alcohol, David confesses.
I do, Helen adds. When we met in 1980, I was married to a violent man. An alcoholic. So when I met David as I did, I knew we were meant for each other. And it was love at first sight. I had fallen in love with him long before we met at the dinner. I had seen him often in the street near my work and at the supermarket. I sometimes stood so close to him I could smell his aftershave. I once bumped into him on purpose. We were meant for each other. But he never noticed me. I even rode up in a crowded lift in his building. Shame. His office was on the second floor. But at least I was close to him for a few moments.
Until the dinner. I get it: because of the date and David drinking mineral water. Wait a minute: you met in 1980 and today is your first anniversary?
Yes, we waited 29 years before we married. My wife died two years ago after a long illness.
She was a lovely woman.
You knew David’s wife?
Oh yes. She was very understanding. David is a man with strong drives. When David promised that he would never abandon her, we became lovers with her consent.
You had sleepovers. That is truly romantic, sad and uplifting.
Dessert, anyone? I’ll bring the trolley.
David and Helen had cake and coffee. Nice tippers. I gave the barman $10 and kept $40.
I look at the empties and read the Perrier label. And there it is.
Their good omen. The date: bottled since the 23rd June 1863.
The calendar on the wall tells me: today is a Perrier Day.
It was all about love and the water. I bet they still have the Perrier label from the 23rd of June 1980.
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About the author
I have one grandfather, a builder. My other grandfather was a stonemason and my father was a traditional blacksmith. Both my grandmothers had cooked for a living, one in a hotel and the other for well-to-do people. A career in construction or perhaps engineering or catering would have been an obvious choice.
Instead, I spent 20 years in business and in mid life retrained myself. I chose to work with my hands as my father and grandparents had. I become a renowned woodcraftsman and founded with my wife an art and craft gallery in a Tasmanian tourist town. After 20 years there, we followed our children to mainland Australia to retire on Victoria’s Bellarine Peninsula. I took up writing seriously in 2003.
Working with their hands, creating and shaping materials has occupied my forebear. From stone, to iron, to wood. Now I spend my time putting pen to paper. The medium is getting softer.
What’s coming up?
You’ll love my other stories too.
“Tourist Traps”: If you’re good for a laugh, wear a name badge in Tasmania. Otherwise-don’t. http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/49964
“Read My Shorts”: A collection of ten Australian short stories that aims to make you laugh, a little scared, think and smile.
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/49629
“Muriel and Udolpho”: A young actress celebrates her stage debut. She has another first that day, an infatuation that becomes her downfall and lifelong obsession: Udolpho Wolfe. Redemption comes after a crisis. But Udolpho is never far away….
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/50793
“Pavel the Walker”: At 16, he walked out. There was nothing to keep him at home. He walked till the money ran out. Then worked, saved and walked again until the money ran out. He was still walking at 30 in another continent when he met a girl. Falling in love stopped him walking-for a time. He wandered on.
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/50959
“The Masked Transformer”: Be scared, be very scared: this is the “classic universal tale” of good and evil, power and corruption. The three bonus short stories from Australia will entertain you.
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/52463
400 words: Writing “flash fiction”, a properly structured short story, is a piece of piss to a trained dick. If that is not you, read on.
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/54149
“Martin Goes Floundering”: Pause and retreat. Martin and water don't mix. Follow Martin's and his family's exploits at your peril and get wet laughing.
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/55098
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