A Brief Encounter: A Love…Maybe Valentine eShort. Julia Williams

       A Brief Encounter

      ‘Valentine’s Day, should … be … banned,’ Rachel Sanders puffed as she leaned her bum against the swinging doors of the restaurant of the hotel she worked in, to bring another Oyster Delight with complimentary champers (aka mussels posing as oysters and a free Prosecco) to table five. She hoped there wouldn’t be a repeat of last year when Chef had bought some dodgy crab for his Crab Hearts in a bed of lettuce salad. How the restaurant hadn’t been closed after that incident she had no idea.

      It was manic as usual. People liked coming to the Three Keys for their Valentine’s evening out. Plus there was the usual steady business trade of salesmen who stopped over in the week. Some of them were glumly ordering Oyster Delight on their own, but most were in the upstairs bar, where she was actually meant to be, if the dodgy weather hadn’t kept half the staff off. She’d been on an early shift and meant to go home at 6 p.m. for her own Valentine’s evening with Jamie. But then it had started snowing and people began to ring in saying they were stuck on the ring road or unable to get out of their drives. Rachel was still hoping that she could get away before eight to salvage something of the evening. Particularly after the surprise news she’d found out that morning. Jamie was going to be thrilled. She just knew it. It was true they’d not been together that long – eight months last week – but when you knew, you knew, right?

      Jamie had been cool about her being late home, ‘It’s only a day, Rache,’ he said, ‘we can celebrate any old time.’ Which was true of course, but it was their first Valentine’s Day together and Rachel’s first Valentine’s Day with an actual partner. She had so wanted it to be special. In truth, she was a little bit miffed he hadn’t been a bit more bothered. But he was a bloke, and maybe it wasn’t such a big deal for him.

      Rachel served table five as the band struck up ‘Let’s Face the Music’. She hoped she and Jamie would be dancing later. Table five were looking at each other moodily in the way that only Valentine’s couples can. Oh dear. Another marriage on the rocks? It had been known to happen. The Three Keys was witness to many a relationship that foundered on Valentine’s Day. The staff who’d been there for years still talked in awe of the couple who walked in hand in hand, and left in separate taxis having drenched each other in red wine, as well as chucking crockery.

      Rachel smiled to try and cheer the grumpy couple up, but they weren’t having it. She glanced at her watch. Nearly 8 p.m. With any luck if the kitchen calmed down a bit she’d be out of here in half an hour. Then she could go home, put on the dinner she’d prepared earlier, open the Prosecco (a tiny sip wouldn’t hurt would it?) and have the romantic evening with Jamie she’d been planning all day …

      *

      Daniel sat in the traffic jam drumming his fingers on the wheel. The sudden snow flurry had really buggered things up. And it was getting worse. When he turned onto this road only half an hour ago it had been relatively light, but now the windscreen wipers were going at it hammer and tongs and he was barely clearing the screen. Cars were beginning to slide all over the place and he’d travelled less than a mile. He texted Claire again:

      Stuck in traffic. Snow horrendous. How is it with you?

      Ouch bad here too. Dad worried you might not get down the lane.

      Dad? Daniel frowned. Surely Claire couldn’t have invited her dad round on Valentine’s night, when he’d made it clear he was planning something special for them? He loved Claire dearly, but sometimes he found the presence of her family who lived nearby a little overwhelming. Claire could never see the problem, ‘It’s just because you’re not close to your family,’ she’d say, which was true. But Daniel worried it was more than that. He was a successful lawyer now, but he couldn’t help feeling that for Claire’s parents a black man who came from a London housing estate, wasn’t quite what they had in mind for their beloved daughter.

      He shook his head. Never mind them. This was about him and Claire and their perfect evening. A perfect evening that looked now as if it might not happen. He felt in his jacket pocket for the ring. Reassuringly still there. After five years this was it. Claire was everything to him, and he to her. Tonight was the night he was going to prove it to her – after all the missed evenings and times when he’d let her down because of work, tonight was going to be their night. At least he hoped it still was. If this snow didn’t clear he’d never get there.

      The travel reports on the radio were not reassuring. There were miles long tailbacks all the way to Great Denham, the village Claire lived in. Jack-knifed lorries and abandoned cars littered the roads. No one had expected the snowstorm to be so severe, Daniel certainly hadn’t. His car wasn’t up to this, and reluctantly, when he saw flashing lights ahead and was flagged down by a copper to say that the road was blocked by two cars that had gone headlong into one