Facebook Friend
Date: 2/4/2017,
Categories:
Love Stories,
Author: BradleyStoke
... Charlie. “Good evening,” he said, in a voice that was pitched slightly higher and more hesitantly than she’d imagined. “I think it might be me that you’re waiting for.” When there was hesitation, he added: “You are Jane, aren’t you? Jane Osbourne.” “And you must be Charlie,” said Jane automatically, proffering a limp hand towards him. “I’m pleased to finally meet you.” “Likewise, Jane,” said Charlie. “May I sit down?” “Of course,” said Jane, who with the pleasantries concluded could now assess Charlie Kingswood in the flesh for the first time. And what a shock and disappointment it was! It wasn’t that Charlie dressed badly or was poorly groomed. His hair had been cut recently, his smart casual clothes wouldn’t look out of place in a West End theatre, and there were many of those little tell-tale signs to show that Charlie took care of his appearance: his nails were neatly cut, he wore cuff-links and his jacket hung well on his shoulders. Even his shoes—smart brown brogues with a shine on them—indicated to Jane that, despite everything, Charlie knew what it meant to dress well. But none of that could compensate for the fact that Charlie was not only shorter than Jane was expecting—only just five feet tall—but half of his face (the half never displayed in his Facebook photos) was smudged by a huge birthmark. No way could Jane look at Charlie without being uncomfortably aware of the purplish, brownish excrescence that spread from his chin over his cheek, around his eye and ...
... across his brow where it tried to hide under his otherwise neat and tidy hair. This wasn’t what Jane had been hoping for. Nor was she expert in hiding what she really thought. “Would you like another coffee, Jane?” Charlie asked. This was an occasion when Jane could have made her excuses and left. It wouldn’t be a kind thing to do, of course. In fact, after all those months of Facebook friendship, it would be downright rude and would forever burden Jane’s conscience. But it was still perhaps the best thing to do. “Er, yes,” said Jane. “Perhaps not a coffee, though. Too much caffeine, you know…” “I remember what you said you liked,” said Charlie considerately. “It’s on your Facebook page. A White Cranberry juice.” “Ermm… Yes, that’s it. That’s exactly what I’d like.” And as Charlie walked off to the counter, to wait in queue behind a hassled mother and her unruly child, Jane deliberated the options open to her. She couldn’t just walk off while Charlie was buying her a drink and then block him from her Facebook page. There were many girls who’d probably do that, but Jane wasn’t one of them. But diplomacy and tact were not skills that Jane had acquired to the extent that this was a situation she could easily wriggle out of. How do you tell someone that, well, what you wanted in a man was someone, you know, a bit taller and, let’s be frank, not so horribly disfigured? But then, Jane reminded herself, Charlie was a Facebook friend. It wasn’t as if they’d met through a Dating website ...