The Valentines: Happy Girl Lucky

(shyly)

Of course I do. Everything

happens for a reason.

BOY

Then … perhaps you are my

reason?

BOY holds out his hand. ‘Teddy Bears’ Picnic’ music starts playing.

HOPE

This is all happening so BEEP fast …

BOY

And yet we’ve waited our whole lives. Now BEEP take my hand

and together we will – BEEP

BEEP BEEP-BEEP—

BEEEEEEPPPPP

Blinking, I stare at the hand reaching towards me.

‘You want toppings on this?’ the BOY continues, yawning through his nostrils. ‘We got chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles. Strawberry sauce and nuts, but that’s extra. Or butterscotch sauce or toffee sauce. Chocolate flakes are extra too, so are toffee pieces and –’

I sigh. He’s getting this script all wrong.

A few seconds ago, I was the romantic heroine poised to run away with my true soulmate – now I appear to be in a meeting with Willy Wonka’s accountant. As usual, I infinitely prefer my version.

‘Yes, please –’ I smile sweetly as the car behind me starts beeping its horn again. ‘Actually … never mind. Plain is just fine.’

‘That’s one pound thirty, then.’

Smiling harder so my dimples show, I hand the money across while gazing over the counter as intensely as possible, using all my advanced actressing skills to communicate complex, award-winning emotions.

The BOY stares back. ‘You’re ten pence short.’

‘Whoops!’ My eyelashes must have been fluttering too fast to see properly. ‘Here you go.’

Our fingertips touch lightly and I stare at them, waiting for a flash of light, a few sparkles, maybe a bit of casual levitation. Up close, his fingernails have a thin line of black under each one, there are bright red spots marking his cheeks and his apron has melted chocolate smeared on it. Although I’m actually in black jeans and a neon cropped jumper – and it looks like it’s about to start raining – so reality isn’t exactly doing either of us a favour.

But there’s definitely Potential. I just need to harness this new cinematic direction – fast.

‘So,’ I say as the car horn starts blaring again, ‘what’s your star si—’

‘HOPE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE LOOKING FOR A TOILET! DO YOU HAVE CONSTIPATION OR WHAT? GET IN THE CAR RIGHT NOW OR WE’RE GOING WITHOUT YOU!’

OK, the word toilet is absolutely not goingin my big opening scene; I am also editing out constipation immediately.

The BOY’s eyes slide over my shoulder, then widen as he spots the huge luxury car parked behind me.

‘Whoa,’ he says, abruptly waking up. ‘Is that—’

‘Yep.’ I take a step backwards. ‘Thank you so much for this ice cream, kind stranger. I shall treasure it forever and ever, until it melts or gets eaten.’

Quickly – while he’s still watching – I take my hair out of its tangled knot and give my black curls a quick, charming shake.

Then I glance adorably back over my shoulder.

HOPE

I’m afraid I must leave you

here, but this moment will be

engraved upon my heart for the

rest of time.

‘Bye, then!’ I call brightly, waving.

BOY

Goodbye, my dream girl. I will

never serve ice cream in the

same way again.

Ice Cream Boy stares at me for a few seconds with a deep furrow between his eyebrows. ‘Bye?’

I feel an abrupt whoosh of pleasure.

Next time I visit, he’s going to recognise me and ask my name and declare his eternal love for me and everything.

This One is almost definitelyThe One.

‘HOPE, YOU TOTAL MUPPET!’ my sister screams helpfully. ‘GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!’

‘Coming!’ I call back.

Then – delighted with how the morning is going – I skip towards the car with the blue dress I’m not wearing fluttering behind me.