Crossed Lines

Ralph tied his laces into a vicious knot and set out for a jog around the neighbouring streets that were lined with lush chestnut trees. His earphones were plugged in and he received a call from his girlfriend, Tania, just as he was beginning to work up a sweat. The line was clear and crisp. “Have you got the present? I'm losing my mind, have you got my sister's present?” 

“Relax, darling, yes, I've got it.”  

“You don't understand, I've just got so much to organise and something always goes wrong on her birthday. Every time I seemed to be the bad guy.”

“I know, I know, she's hypersensitive and temperamental. It'll be ok this time though, I promise.”  

“I'm on my street now let's talk after you've finished your...”

Then Ralph heard a high-pitched shriek echo down the line. He came to an immediate halt but the sound of footsteps and panting continued seamlessly.  

“Tania? Tania? What's going on? Tania!”

The phone line suddenly began to hiss and crackle.  

After a pause, a deep raspy voice came on the line. “Hello? Who's this?” 

“I'm sorry but have you just stolen my girlfriend's phone?”  

“Yes, yes I have.”  

“Oh. Can I have it back?”  

“I just nicked it; I think I’ll keep it for a while.”  

“How long then?”

“I'd say twenty-four hours should suffice.”  

“Ok. Then what?”  

“You give me a hundred quid; I give you the phone back. Meet you by the playground in Coldwire Park tomorrow at three.”  

“Ok.” 

“Don't you think the trees are particularly lovely today?”  

“What?” 

The robber hung up.  

Ralph decided not to tell Tania about the meeting with her robber, just in case everything fell through. She was stressed enough.

The next day, Ralph waited in the park for a while but the only person lurking nearby was a youth in an ill-fitting suit reading a book. He went over and tapped the boy on the shoulder. He was so focussed on his book, a jolt shot through his body.  

“You want your phone, right?” said the boy, composing himself.  

“It is you,” said Ralph, surprised. “Let's make this fast, I have to be somewhere. You're reading Kerouac?”

“Yeah.” 

“Huh.” 

“Makes me feel kinda free, even when I'm not.”  

Ralph took the phone and handed over the money, “Thanks, I guess.”  

Ralph left the park to go to the birthday party using Google maps. The robber followed, using the same route until, finally, he made a turn and disappeared from sight. Ralph knocked on Tania's parents' door and was ushered through to the garden where she was frantically organising finger food, fruit punch and stabbing candles into a fudge cake.  

Andrea, the birthday girl, squealed with delight when her boyfriend finally arrived. But then she complained, “Where’s your scruffy clothes?”

The boyfriend said, “Well, I thought I’d try to fit in.”

As Andrea's boyfriend stepped out onto the turf, Ralph turned, looked him up and down and his jaw dropped. It was Tania's robber. The boy avoided Ralph’s gaze and nervously tugged on his tie. Ralph decided to play it cool.

“This is Jack,” said Andrea, “he's wearing a suit.”  

“We can see that,” said Tania, giving Jack a peck. She sniffed several times and a look of confusion spread across her face. There was the unique stench of body odour. Tania encouraged everyone to start the celebrations, as she pondered the mystery of Jack's funk. Like a fly circling her face she simply couldn't get rid of the nagging conundrum.  

“Here you go, Andrea,” said Tania handing over a present covered in brown paper. 

Andrea slashed at the wrapping with her nails, revealing a painting of a stark city street infested with electric pylons, cables twisted and stretching far and wide.  

“Uh, nice,” said Andrea and then flung the painting aside.

“Oh Andrea,” her mum chuckled.  

Tania bit her lip, repressing years of rage. Jack brushed past her, reaching for some more punch and she got another whiff of stale sweat.  

“Ralph, come here,” Tania said, dragging him to the bottom of the garden.  

“I think that's the robber,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” Ralph said, shifting uneasily. “That’s impossible.”  

“Call my number, call it.”  

“You're talking crazy.”  

“Just do it, Ralph.”  

Ralph made the call. He was afraid. Very afraid. A phone rang in his left trouser pocket.

Tania gasped and put her hand over her mouth, eyes bulging.  

“Let me explain,” pleaded Ralph.  

“You'd better.”  

“It's ah, well, um – OK, It’s him. I tracked him down. But, please, Tania...”

“Give me the phone.”

Ralph pulled out the phone. Tania snatched it from him and marched back to the others.

“It was Jack,” Tania shrieked. “He stole my phone.”  

Jack choked on a miniature jam crumpet.  

“Mother,” cried Andrea, “Tania's ruining my birthday again.”
  
“You ungrateful little shit!” Tania said. “I'm sick of you and your scummy boyfriends who you use to make yourself feel worthy and superior.”  

“Tania,” said her mum, “you can't just accuse our guest of robbery.”  

“Tell them,” said Tania to Ralph.  

“It's true. I'm sorry Andrea, I met Jack earlier, he sold me back Tania’s phone. I think he's a neighbourhood hustler.”  

“Oh god, oh god, oh GOD!” Andrea said, fists clenched by her sides. Then she swiped all the food and drink off the table and lifted the table off its legs, flipping it upside down.  

“This is my birthday and this is my boyfriend,” Andrea said, “I'll decide who's to be judged.”  

A phone resounded. Everyone searched their pockets but to no success. Meanwhile, Jack pulled out phone after phone until he cradled five in his hands. Finally, he retrieved the ringing cell and prodded it to hang up.  

Everyone was gobsmacked, taking a step back. Jack pulled his tie loose and exclaimed, “Hey, who am I kidding? I am who I am, right?”  suddenly feeling alive and truly connected.

“Bloody hell,” Tania said, defeated, “God knows, I really tried this time.”