O' for the love of Shakespeare by Brooke St Pier

about Ryan and not having Vic here it looks as though my
confidante will be an unlikely Mrs McCree.
    “Oh really?”  She is grinning at me in a
knowing way.
    “Yes he’s an actor.” I frown. “Although he
doesn’t know that I know that so pretend I didn’t just tell you that.  To be
honest I think he is the most perfect man I have ever met.”
    “So you are having a bit of a holiday fling?” 
One of her eyebrows moves a little higher than the other.
    “Oh I hope not; I think he might be well you
know.”
    “A serial killer, a bore, a secret train
spotter, no I’m sure I don’t know.”  She grins.
    “Oh you know, the one, I absolutely love
Shakespeare and to find someone who lives as much inside one of Shakespeare’s
plays as you can get, I don’t think you can find anything better.”
    “Seriously you are basing your sudden
infatuation on this man because he is currently an actor in a Shakespeare
play.”  She doesn’t understand but I don’t quite know how to explain it to her.
    “Well he is gorgeous too.”
    “That sounds a little more promising, I can
work with that.”  She smiles.  “So are you seeing this gorgeous actor again
soon?”
    “Yes he’s taking me out for lunch tomorrow.”
    “Ah now I understand the shopping bags.”  I
cannot help but giggle, I feel like I am seventeen again the night before going
to meet up with someone I have a huge crush on.
    “Are you back off out later for dinner?” In my
excitement of buying a new outfit for my hot date tomorrow I completely forgot
about lunch and dinner.  My stomach gives an audible growl.  Mrs McCree seems
to sense this from my obvious look of confusion on my face and so quickly adds,
“I would love some company if you don’t have plans?”
    “That would be great Mrs McCree if you really
don’t mind?”
    “Please call me Angela, and no of course not I
made a lasagne earlier this morning and there is far too much for just me to
eat.  It will be nice for me to have someone to sit and eat with for a change.”
    “Then yes thank you that is very kind of you
Angela.” And as if on cue my stomach makes an even louder rumble and we both
laugh together.
    Surprisingly the evening with Angela sat at her
little kitchen table eating her yummy lasagne is really nice.  We even open and
share a bottle of red wine.  Forgetting her troubles for an evening we gossip
like two girlfriends that have known each other for years. 
    “So how did you and your husband meet?”  I ask
taking a big mouthful of the warm creamy lasagne.
    “We were both sixteen.  I left school when I
was fifteen and started to learn how to be a hairdresser.  He worked in his
father’s greengrocers next door.  Even at that age he had an old soul.  He was
gentle and caring, I never heard him say a single bad word against anyone.  We
got married when we were nineteen and our son came along shortly after.  I had
wanted a big family at least three children but unfortunately it wasn’t to be
and we were only blessed with the one child.  You’ll laugh but Bill loved to
dance and I know I am biased but he was really good.  Better than me anyway. 
We used to salsa together.  He was just a few months away from being able to
retire when we found out he had cancer.  Prostate.  He always hated doctors and
hospitals.  Never got anything checked.  By the time I forced him to go get it looked
at it was too late.  And I lost him.”
    “He sounds like a lovely man.  I cannot even
imagine what it must be like to lose someone so important.” 
    “Every day feels that little bit harder. 
Everyone said over time I would feel better but they lied.  The sadness, the
longing, it gets harder every day.  I sometimes dream that I can still feel him
next to me in bed.  That’s the most painful part those brief moments that I
think he is still here with me and then the realisation hits and I have to lose
him all over again.”
    “Do you think one day you would like