Betty Bumped into a Friend in London

by bg Roman

G/B. Getty. One year, five months, and fifteen days after they went to Coney Island together, Betty and Gio bump into each other on the street in London. Betty invites him for coffee to talk about old times, but Gio isn't so sure he wants to reminisce.

2. Rum Toddy

Betty Bumped into a Friend in London Chapter 2: Rum Toddy

"Will you be taking a sandwich?" asked Alfred.

"I don't think so," said Betty, pulling on her coat and catching him studying her face. Betty yanked a lock of hair over her cheek, trying to hide the bruises forming there.

"It's the house specialty, an award winning sandwich. People travel from all over the world just to eat it."

Betty caught sight of her blackened fingers, smudged from wet mascara, and realized how awful she must look.

"Sure, I'll take it," replied Betty, desperate to get rid of Alfred. He left to fetch it.

She pulled out her cell phone to call a cab. She punched in the number and had just touched the phone to her ear when its battery exploded.

"Ow!" cried Betty, hurling the phone to the floor and grabbing her tingling ear. The thudding bang reverberated around her skull.

"Jeepers!" yelled Betty, cursing loudly. She leaned against the wall, rubbing her ear.

Alfred ran out from the kitchen, sandwich in hand, "Are you alright Ma'am?"

Covering her deafened ear with her hand, Betty nodded.

Alfred dropped to his knees to look at the burnt phone. Black viscous liquid oozed out of the battery case. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and picked up the hot phone gingerly, holding it up to look at.

"This happened to me before!" said Betty, a bit too loudly, looking at the ruined phone. "Do I have a curse?"

"Shall I dispose of it Ma'am?"

"Yes, throw it out," said Betty. "It's some cheap off-brand our clueless receptionist, Amanda, bought for me. It's never worked properly."

Alfred handed Betty the sandwich and wrapped his handkerchief around the destroyed phone.

"The second friggin' time it's happened! Oh yeah, Amanda says 'lightning never strikes twice' and I believed her. God, what an idiot I am for taking the phone no one else wanted."

Betty looked at the sandwich in her hand. It was wrapped snugly in white paper with a ribbon tied around it. Betty touched the silky ribbon, rubbing the smooth lace-edged satin between her fingers. It looked exactly like a sandwich from her past. The turkey and sun-dried tomato baguette he had given to her, with a little note attached. While not exactly an apology for provoking her, it was the next closest thing.

"Are all sandwiches wrapped this way?" asked Betty, a hand to her lips, her face pale. "With ribbons?"

"No," said Alfred, "just the special."

"Why?"

"I don't know," said Alfred. "It's always been that way."

Betty turned the sandwich over, examining it intently. Suddenly, she wanted to see a note. But there was no note. There was no message attached.

The sandwich was the message.

Remembering that long-ago note and looking for a note on this sandwich, brought a horrible thought into her mind. An intense sensation of nausea flooded her. She was going to throw up. But she didn't have time to be sick.

"Alfred, how far is it to the Tower Bridge?"

"Only a minute," said Alfred. "We're quite close."

"By foot?" said Betty.

"By car. It's a fifteen minute walk."

Betty checked the time. It was over ten minutes since Gio had walked away from her. Clutching the sandwich, Betty snatched up her purse and briefcase.

"Can you show me the way?"

She led Alfred out the front door of the restaurant and he pointed down the street.

"You go down there, and around that corner."

It was exactly the way Gio had gone.

"I want to go to the bridge," said Betty. "Now."

"At this time of night? It'll be deserted."

"I don't care," said Betty. "I want to get there as quickly as possible."

With one piercing whistle, Alfred flagged down a cab. It pulled in front, Alfred opened the cab's door for her, and Betty hopped in.

"Goodnight Ma'am," said Alfred, shutting the door.

"Tower Bridge," said Betty to the driver, pulling her wallet out of her purse. "Hurry."

The cab driver pulled out into the quiet street in the direction Alfred had pointed. Within a few moments they were driving along the river.

Betty looked at the black water, the inky surface reflecting the twinkling lights, and thought about Gio. What if he was on the bridge? What if he was not on the bridge? She thought about delaying her flight. Who would need to know? What plans would need to changed?

"Which way is the water flowing?" Betty asked the cab driver. "Is this upstream or downstream of the bridge?"

"Downstream," he replied.

Betty peered at the river's surface, looking to see if there was anything floating on it. She could see nothing.

"We're here," said the cab driver, slowing to turn onto the bridge deck.

"Stop," said Betty, spotting a lone figure standing at the middle of the span. Her hunch was right. Gio had returned to the bridge after he left her. "Stop here!"

"I can't stop here," the driver said. "I'm in traffic."

"Stop!" demanded Betty, voice rising in panic, pulling the door's handle and pushing it open.

"Hey," said the driver, jamming on the brakes. "You can't get out here."

"Take whatever you want," said Betty, tossing her wallet onto the front passenger seat. As soon as the cab stopped she jumped out, dumping her purse and briefcase onto the sidewalk and sprinting towards the middle of the bridge.

The impatient driver behind him already honking, the cabbie grabbed the fare from Betty's wallet, throwing it out the window onto her purse, and drove off.

In a few steps Betty could see the figure was a man, stripped down to a t-shirt, leaning over the railing, looking down at the water.

A couple more steps and she could tell it was him.

"Gio!"

"Betty?" said Gio, holding onto the railing, turning to look at her. "Go away!"

"What are you doing?" cried Betty. The chill wind penetrated her thin coat and a sprinkling of raindrops blew in her face.

"Go away," said Gio, backing away from her as she approached him. "Stop!"

Betty stopped about ten paces from him. She spotted his coat on the sidewalk. "Gio, why did you take off your coat?"

"Why ruin a perfectly good jacket?" Gio shrugged. "Water destroys leather."

"Gio," cried Betty, gusts of wind whipping her hair across her face. "Don't do it."

"Why are you here?" asked Gio. "I don't want an audience!"

"I came to stop you," said Betty, pushing her hair back from her face.

"Why are you doing this to me? Why?"

"Why are you doing this? You don't have to do it. Let's go inside."

"Yes, I do," said Gio, stepping backwards, increasing his distance from Betty. "I have to do it before it's too late."

"What do you mean? Too late?"

"Betty, you have no idea the danger you're in."

"Me? In danger from what?"

"From me. You're in danger from me."

"What do you mean?"

"Betty, I almost strangled you back there," said Gio. He gripped the railing, his knuckles ghostly white.

"Gio! That's impossible. You love me." Betty stepped closer to him, but Gio backed away.

"Love!" spat Gio. "I used to love you. Now, I don't know what to call it."

Gio looked around warily, backing past a lamppost. Few cars passed them on the darkened wet bridge. The light drizzle fed the greasy puddles growing around the cobblestones.

"But we've known each other for a long time. What's wrong now?"

"Every time you reject me the disappointment hurts worse. Today was a thousand times worse than before. I just can't handle the hope anymore. If I could only kill my hope, I would. Why did you come?"

"To stop you."

"Yeah, sure. Really, you came to talk. All you ever want to do is talk about yourself. Blah, blah, blah. How perfect your life is because I'm not in it."

"I'm sorry." Betty sat down on the sidewalk, sheltering herself from the wind under the bridge's railing. The drizzle made her coat, hair and glasses glisten in the dim lamplight.

"For what?"

"Whatever I did. Everything. Put your coat back on, it's freezing."

"What difference does it make now? Leave me alone. Go."

"I can't go. I won't go. I can't leave you like this."

"Why not? You left me fine before."

"Because friends don't let their friends jump off bridges, Gio."

"So, that's what you call this, what we have, a friendship? You seem to forget me pretty easily."

"Yes, I didn't call."

"'Let's be friends', you said, 'Be my friend', you insisted, 'okay', I said, you win, but you never called me anyway. What was the point?"

"Maybe I didn't call you Gio, 'cause it's hard to admit when you're wrong."

"You? Admit you're wrong? That'll be the day."

"Yes, I was wrong. Maybe I figured out I shouldn't have let you walk away."

"You're doing it again." Gio backed up, putting a few more paces between them.

"Doing what?"

"Betty, for your own sake, you better leave." Gio stepped up onto the ledge.

"I'm staying here until you change your mind. Come to the restaurant with me." Betty crouched, inching on her knees towards him, peering through her rain-splattered glasses, her eyes fixed on him.

"You don't want me to come with you," said Gio, his arms wet and the navy t-shirt black over his shoulders where it was soaked through.

"Yes, I do. Gio, I like you!" Betty stopped to push back the wet strands of hair, revealing her bruised face smudged with mascara.

"No, you don't. Betty, I'm not who I was. I hate me. You'll hate me. That's why it's so hopeless."

"That's crazy. Don't talk like that."

"But it's the truth." Gio climbed up another step.

"I don't believe it!"

"You're either incredibly foolish, or very brave."

"I just want you to come inside."

"I have to do this, Betty. Why are you making it so hard?"

Betty tried to think. She didn't have a phone. She couldn't call for help. No one was around. What could she do? She had to keep him talking.

"It's hard?"

"Yeah, it's hard. If it was easy, it'd be done already."

"But why? Why?"

"For you. To save you."

"I know you wouldn't hurt me. You love me."

"Not any more. Betty, I'm not the same man. Not having you has turned me into a monster. You felt it. That kiss. If you can even call it that."

Gio wiped the water from his face. "I disgust myself. I almost throttled you afterwards just because you made me do it. I deserve to die."

"Gio, don't jump. Please."

"I can't live like this. I'm not meant to be alone. Betty, I have to do this before I change my mind. The next time, I'm going to kill you for sure."

"Good god Gio, it's me telling you, me, don't do it!"

"Betty, it's for you. My last act will be to save your life."

"Gio, if you won't do it for me, think of Antonella," pleaded Betty. "You'll hurt her."

"It can't be helped. She'll either have a brother who's a murderer or one who's dead. Dead is better."

"Gio, I'm not leaving you here." Slowly, Betty crawled towards Gio, her hands and knees dirty and wet from the road.

"The only way to stop myself from killing you is to kill myself first."

"There has to be another way," cried Betty.

"I don't see any other way."

"Therapy, something."

"A shrink! No. Not my style."

"Gio, how about this? We can go on a date. A date, Gio. Our first date. Dinner, dancing, whatever you want. I won't talk, if you don't want me to. I want to dance with you, Gio. Don't you want to dance with me? We can do it tomorrow."

"You're leaving, remember? Flying away tomorrow."

"I'll change my flight. I'll stay on a few days."

"Then you'll go. You'll still go."

"I don't know. It's a first date. It might lead to another. We don't know."

"It'll lead to another disappointment, like today. I know. I'm bound to snap."

"Or, maybe it won't."

"God, I better do this before it's too late. I can already feel myself weakening." Gio eased himself closer to the edge. "Goodbye, poor jacket. Too bad, you're getting wet anyway."

Betty looked around, the street was deserted. No one could help her. Jumping up, Betty tore off her coat and threw it into a puddle. She grabbed the railing, heaving herself up.

"Betty, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to jump first. Then you won't have to."

"If you take one more step, I'll jump." Gio stared at her, poised ready to jump. "Stop it, or I'll do it."

Turning around, Betty jumped into the street. She needed to get someone to stop.

"Look at me!" cried Betty. She stood in the center of the road, barely visible in her black clothing, covering her face with her hands. "I'm going to stay right here until you come down!"

"Betty, watch out," said Gio, turning around to look. She was standing in the road, her back to the traffic, in the rain. From his vantage point he could see the top of a double-decker turning onto the bridge, behind her. "Get off the road! A bus is coming."

"You have to come down and save me!"

Believing that Gio was only pretending he saw a bus, Betty, eyes closed, stood coatless in the rain, hands over her ears, and sang at the top of her voice, "la-la-la-la!"

"Betty!" yelled Gio, wide-eyed and watching in horror as the bus sped towards her over the slick bridge, its slapping wipers smearing the streaky windshield.

The wind and rain howling around his ears, Gio screamed, "Betty! Move!"

* * *

"Blimey, I'm knackered, Sam!" said Marg to the pretty young woman sitting beside her on the bus. "My age is starting to show."

"Ma, you just worked a double shift," said Sam, looking at the time on her watch. "And it's midnight. Anyone would be exhausted after working twenty-four hours straight."

"Just look at the gusting rain," said Marg, pointing through the rivulets of water on the bus's window to the dimpled whitecaps on the river. "Our brollies won't keep us dry in this gale."

"The garden could use some rain," shrugged Sam, shaking the water off her umbrella. "Now, we won't have to think about watering it."

"Finally, Tower Bridge! We'll be home soon. But the pugs will need a walk."

"I'll walk them," said Sam. "You can soak in a hot bath and I'll bring you a rum toddy."

"Now, that sounds like a fine plan!" said Marg. "What'd I do to deserve a thoughtful daughter like you?"

The bus lurched sharply as the driver slammed on the brakes, tires squealing, horn honking.

"Crikey! Right in the middle of the bridge," yelled Marg, grabbing Sam around the shoulders protectively. "What's going on?"

The bus pitched to a stop and the driver jumped up from his seat. In a panicked voice he shouted at the passengers, urging them to stay calm.

Ripping the medical kit off the wall beside him, he yelled, "Is there a first-aider here?"

"My mom's a nurse," called Sam, jumping up and pulling Marg up.

"Oh, thank God," said the driver. "Here!"

He held out the kit to Marg. "Go! I'll radio for an ambulance."

With Sam following close behind her, Marg ran to the driver, grabbed the kit, and hopped out onto the street.