Travelling to work by bus was definitely the most convenient and economic way of getting there but conversation with my fellow commuters was not the cheeriest way to start the day.

Those that weren’t buried deep in a daily newspaper spent their waiting time actively looking the other way. It would have been nice to pass the journey with some other of my fellows.

The temptation to take to the car was often heightened during the wet and windy days of winter; the only factor keeping me on the bus-route was the appearance of one of the prettiest girls I had ever laid eyes on: her name was Jessica - or J as she insisted I call her.

In the pouring rain my multi coloured golf umbrella stood out, garishly, against the multitude of dark, uniform city-gent style umbrellas, but J didn't mind. She was more than happy to share its protection.
We became almost our own little club, buried privately under the huge umbrella's spread, her in her bright coloured coats and dresses and me with my hippy clothes. I would look forward to seeing her, as she ran, every morning, to join the waiting queue. It seemed as if we had known each other forever - we would chatter and share each other’s news and expectations for the coming days and weekends.
I had even adjusted the time that I left my work to ensure that we could share the journey home.

She would enjoy shopping in her dinner hour and was always keen show me whatever she had bought along with describing stories of her colleagues at work and the weird people she encountered in the shops. It seemed to me that she was enjoying my company as much as I enjoyed being with her. Amid the stiff-upper-lip population of our bus queue, I only had eyes for her. It was obvious that everyone around us, in the bus queue and on the bus, thought us quite insane as we daily chattered and giggled. It was a lovely way to start - and finish - our day. I suppose it was inevitable that we would further cement our relationship and eventually, instead of talking about how we had spent our evenings and weekends, we would also share those times.

In the hot summer of that August I proposed and she accepted - my name and hers would soon be the same.
As with most late winter days, the rain and snow occasionally joined us and the umbrella remained our companion as we excitedly planned the days towards our vows.

[THE END]

© scrapyardsummer 2020