Bowled Over

A 2000 Word Short Story

Molly had known she wouldn’t enjoy the bowls club’s annual BBQ and trophy presentation evening and therefore was proved right. Several people approached her and Ted, wanting to chat. Molly didn’t encourage them. She knew the moment they got into a conversation they’d start talking about bowls and she’d be excluded. She didn’t eat any of the profiteroles decorated with red and blue icing spots to represent bowls.

“It’s silly, why’s everything got to be about bowls?” she asked Ted.

“Because it’s a bowls club lass, anyway it’s just a bit of fun, they still taste the same.”

Molly picked at her food between large gulps from her gin and tonic.

“Can you get me another one of these, and make sure they use a fresh bottle of tonic, I don’t want some that’s going flat.”

“You don’t look very happy love,” Ted told his wife when he returned from the bar. He couldn’t understand why she wasn’t having a good time.

“Well I don’t know anyone; I don’t understand half of what people are talking about, especially the speeches. I don’t know why I’m here.” Molly replied.

“I thought you wanted to come.”

“What on earth gave you that idea?”

“Well, you said that since I’d retired, I’ve spent all my time at the club, that you think we’re drifting apart and you want us to spend more time together.”

“This wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“What was then?”

Molly was saved from replying by the club president’s announcement that he was about to present the Davies Shield.

“This prestigious award,” he informed them, “is an annual award presented to the club member with the highest aggregate score in all the competition matches. Great dedication is needed to win it.”

“I can’t believe I’ve got to sit through all of this when you didn’t even win anything,” Molly complained.

The moment she’d said it she wished she hadn’t. Ted had really hoped to win this year. His skill at the game had improved greatly since retirement had provided more practice time. His rivalry with his friend Bert had increased too. More than once Ted had boasted that this year Bert would be applauding his success. Tactfully, Bert hadn’t reminded him of that when the scores were added up. He hadn’t mentioned it when Molly and Ted arrived this evening either. He’d just slapped his friend on the back, tried to welcome Molly and compliment her on her dress. He had saved them seats, but Molly had refused to sit at his table. She soon regretted that. It wasn’t right to punish him for her unhappiness.

Molly tried to concentrate on the president’s speech.

“To be in with a chance of winning you need to play in almost every match, both home and away. Not just individually either, scores in doubles and team events count too. It is unusual to have an award that counts your team score, but Iain Davies who instigated the award was a visionary. When he became chairman of the club …”

The chairman went on and on about the things that Iain Davies, and his wife too it seemed, had done to build the club up from almost nothing to whatever it was now. Molly couldn’t imagine why he’d bothered and wished he hadn’t.

“The club can be justly proud that it now has four teams, two top class men’s teams, a marvellous ladies team and one for improvers to gain experience.”

Molly shuffled in her seat.

“Why doesn’t he get on with it? I bet he goes through all this every year.”

“The club has won the County Cup for the last consecutive three years and has twice reached the regional finals,” the president continued. “Without further ado, I’d like to announce that this year’s winner is Bert Bloomfield.”

Ted clapped vigorously and congratulated his friend as he made his way to collect the trophy. Molly clapped too; she didn’t want Bert to think her earlier rudeness had been sour grapes because he’d beaten Ted. She felt proud of her husband. She knew he was bitterly disappointed not to be the winner himself. She also knew that only two points separated the men.

The following day Ted said, “As we went to the bowls club yesterday, we’ll do whatever you like today.”

Molly felt bad again. Ted, except when he was at the bowls club, was always ready to do whatever Molly wanted. The trouble was that Molly didn’t have a hobby herself.

“There’s a sale on in that fancy department store in town, you won’t want to go there though. You don’t like shopping.”

“McKenzies? I don’t mind, if that’s what you want to do. We could have tea and a cake in the restaurant.”

“Oooh, I don’t know, Ted. It’s a bit posh…”

“It’s not too posh for you, Molly; you’re a proper lady anyone can see that and I can always hide behind you.”

Molly squeezed his hand, not only was he taking her shopping, which he hated, but he was actually trying to pretend that it would be fun. She should have tried harder at the bowls club.

She enjoyed looking at all the fancy things in the shop.

“Will you just look at the price of that?” she said as she picked up a jar of preserved cherries. “D’you think people really use these?” as she showed him an olive stoner.

Ted joined in the game; he tried on some hats and then sat on chairs in the furniture department.

Even after the special discounts, most of the items were too expensive to tempt Molly. After two hours, all she had bought were some new pillows. Ted carried them, often lagging behind his wife as they were not easy to manoeuvre between the bargain hunting customers and the artfully displayed, breakable goods.

“Just one more department, and then I think we’ll be ready for that tea.” Molly declared.

“And the cake.”

Molly nodded her agreement. They had reached the sportswear section.

“You taking up a sport or summat, Molly lass?”

“Me? Don’t be daft. No I thought you could do with a new set of bowling whites.”

They found some that fitted perfectly. They weren’t much reduced in price, but Molly decided they were of good enough quality to be worth the money.

Ted, carrying the new pillows and now the large bag of clothing, lagged behind Molly as she edged through the crowds towards the ladies wear department. She’d lost sight of him completely when she heard a cry followed by people shouting. Although aware that something had happened, she couldn’t see what the fuss was about. She couldn’t find Ted to ask him. Members of staff hurried to the area and began encouraging people to move on. She heard mention of an ambulance as she wandered around looking for her husband.

Molly had just decided that Ted must have been ushered by staff into another department, when she heard her name mentioned on the shops public address system.

“Would Molly Harris please make herself known to a member of staff.”

Daft beggars gone and got himself lost she thought, she couldn’t be annoyed though, she felt quite important to hear her name announced like that. It made her feel that she had a right to be there.

“That’s me, I’m Molly Harris,” she told the first person she found dressed in McKenzies uniform.

“Please come with me,” the woman said.

She didn’t look very happy, Molly hoped her and Ted wouldn’t be in trouble for causing a fuss.

“This is Mrs Harris,” her escort told a man in a suit, who was obviously important.

“Mrs Harris, please come with me.”

Molly followed, feeling quite nervous now. He led her back to where she’d lost sight of Ted.

“Where’s Ted?” she asked.

She didn’t need a reply, she could see him on the floor. He wasn’t moving. Why didn’t the silly fool get up? Shop staff where around him, one of her new pillows was under his head.

The staff moved aside and urged her to Ted’s side. That’s when she saw how pale he was. She didn’t think he was dead, there’d have covered him up surely, if he was? The shop lights seemed to fail and her legs stopped holding her up. Molly felt someone’s arm support her. A chair was pushed in place for her to sink onto.

“The ambulance is on its way,” the important looking man told her.

Molly went to hospital in the ambulance too. She learnt that Ted had slipped, landed awkwardly and broken his hip. He could hardly speak to her, his face was a horrible grey colour and all sweaty, even his eyes looked wrong. Molly tried to smile and tell him he was fine, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

A doctor soon examined Ted and arranged for X-rays.

“Your husband has had a nasty injury, he will need to stay in hospital for a while, but I’m confident he will, in time, make a good recovery.”

Someone at the hospital made arrangements for Molly to be taken home and took details of Ted’s car that was still in McKenzies’ car park.

The following day the department store’s delivery van arrived. The items Molly had bought and forgotten about were carried to her front door, as well as a hamper of food. She was assured that the car could be left until someone was able to collect it. There would, of course, be no parking charges.

Molly began to look through the hamper. She found a jar of preserved cherries, just like the one she’d looked at earlier.

“Ted, will you look …”

Molly began to cry. With tears in her eyes she unfolded Ted’s new bowling whites. She removed the tags and vowed never again to complain about his bowls, just as long as he recovered enough to continue playing.

The next day, Molly was at the hospital, ready and waiting the very minute visiting hours began. Ted was sat up in bed, his cheeks were pink and he smiled at her.

“Look at them lass, you ever see the like?”

He gestured to the floral display on his locker. Molly didn’t recognise any of the green and red flowers, she couldn’t place the peculiar looking leaves and had no idea from what plant the contorted twigs were gathered. The whole thing was wrapped in cellophane, tastefully marked with the McKenzie’s logo.

Molly sat on the hard chair by Ted’s bed and held his hand as he explained about the treatment he had received and what was to follow. He would be fine again eventually, but it would take time.

“I still don’t really know what happened,” Molly said. “Did you fall over something?”

“No, lass, there wasn’t anything there, I just lost my footing, don’t know why.”

Ted was worried about letting Bert down in a forthcoming match.

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll tell him and he’ll understand.”

At home, she realised that because she’d distanced herself from Ted’s hobby she didn’t know Bert’s phone number and couldn’t look it up because she couldn’t remember his surname. She couldn’t ring the club because she had no idea who she should speak to. She would have to visit the club house. Luckily, someone recognised her as she walked from the car park. They were very kind to her.

Molly soon realised what good friends her husband’s club-mates were. Ted had a constant stream of visitors and Molly received frequent calls, offering any help that might be needed. Several members of the ladies team called, offering company. She realised that they didn’t care if she was interested in bowls or not, they just wanted to offer support. It was Molly who’d pushed them away, not the other way round.

She missed Ted. When he’d had been working, Molly had known nothing about his job. She’d shunned his colleagues fearing they’d talk nothing but shop and exclude her. Now she took no interest in his hobby. It wasn’t Ted or his job or the bowls club that was the problem, it was Molly herself. It wasn’t too late for her to change.

Of course, Ted couldn’t play bowls for a while after he left hospital, he could still watch though, take an interest and cheer on his friends. So could Molly. She drove him to every match, even the away ones.

Ted didn’t win the Davies Shield that year either; he’d missed too many games. Neither did Bert; without Ted his doubles score wasn’t good enough. Ted won it the following year, beating Bert by two clear points. Molly was so proud of him she couldn’t speak. Instead, she handed him a slice of the cake she’d made. It was iced in green and decorated with marzipan bowls, players and score board.

As she polished his shield Molly realised she was the real winner.

If you enjoyed this story you may like to know that I’ve published 24 themed collections of short stories and six novels. You can find them all on Amazon here and here for most other retailers.