He felt a joyous, bubbling effervescence in his stomach, and he wondered if this was how people felt when their lottery numbers had just come in. As he walked up Byres Road with his friends, he felt lighter somehow, buoyed. It was as if his toes were pirouetting on the pavement, and he was in danger of floating away like a Chinese lantern at the fair.
Dominic was having an extremely uncanny day. It had started humbly, with a couple of pints in Duke’s Bar on Old Dumbarton Road. Every time it was his turn to get the drinks in, he found the bartender unwilling to accept his card. Instead, she would wave him away with a seductive wink.
Bearing the pints back to his table of friends, he found himself mildly unsettled. ‘That’s the second time,’ he explained to Frankie, Frankie’s girlfriend Catherine, and their friend Tommy. Catherine swirled her straw around in her rum and coke and playfully nudged Dominic on the shoulder. ‘She must have a thing for you, Dom! You should go ask her when her shift ends, if she bats her eyes at you. If she likes you, she’ll make it clear—trust me.’
Dominic was fairly shy with the opposite sex, so this scenario was an unusual one. Tommy, the brash one of the little group, stepped up. ‘I just cannot believe you’ve had two free rounds from that hot bartender—you lucky git!’ he gurned.
The friends were all fourth-year law students at Glasgow University, looking down the barrel of their final exams. Whilst Catherine, Frankie and Tommy would take the Legal Diploma, Dominic had no desire at all to pursue a practising certificate or ever be a solicitor. He would use his law degree as a passport to wider studies. He had always been the most bookish of the group, and a career in academia seemed suitable; he was already verging on professorial.
Today had been an opportunity for them all to let off some steam before moving into exam survival mode. As they finished their last free drinks from Dominic’s admiring bartender, he found he could not summon the bravery to ask her when her shift ended. Instead, he found himself pivoting to ask the group about a shared friend who had moved abroad to work at Euro Disney in Paris, no less, as one of the princesses. Lisa was, by all accounts, having a rare old time over there.
His gentle enquiries were lorded over by Tommy. ‘So that’s why you don’t want to ask the bartender out, Dom, you old polecat, you old so-and-such! You’ve still got a wee thing for our Lisa!’
Dominic denied this, of course, his face flushing. Tommy was guffawing as he drained the last of his cloudy cider when he almost choked. Spluttering, his friends’ faces splashed with concern, he pointed behind them. Standing at the doorway, looking like she was a model about to strut down the catwalk, was Lisa.
‘I don’t believe this!’ said Frankie. He and Catherine stood joyously to welcome their friend. ‘We were just speaking about you, wondering when you might come home!’ offered Catherine, and embraced her friend. ‘You should have messaged!’
‘You guys are so into your routine! I knew I’d find you here. Wanted to surprise you,’ Lisa said. She hugged Dominic and gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Hey Dom, what’s the good word?’ she asked him, all eyes.
Frankie and Tommy looked at each other and laughed. Dominic had no good word, as he had lost all his. Catherine, rolling her eyes at the male penchant for ribbing and tomfoolery, offered the explanation. ‘We were literally just talking about you, that’s all. So, you walking in now is … a bit of a coincidence.’
With an exaggerated wink, Tommy said, ‘Right Dominic, you get them in.’
Dominic found he was happy to get away from the embarrassment which had suddenly alighted upon him amongst the company of his friends. He looked back at Lisa (she really did look beautiful) and turned around to face the extremely attractive (but not Lisa) bartender. Yet again, he was served for free, she waving him away with a sultry gaze to put Sophia Loren to shame.
As he brought the tray of drinks over, he found the table in silent, eerie contemplation of him. They had all been watching his performance with the bartender. His eyes flicked to Lisa, who was holding her mouth so as not to laugh. ‘Oh my God, Dom,’ she said. ‘She is so sweet on you!’
Dominic found his temperature rising again and struggled to respond. He sat down, gazumped.
Catherine waved them all away. ‘Leave Dom alone. Lisa, do tell—life as an actual princess in Paris? So, what was it all like?’
The little group sat for that final drink, listening to the exploits of their friend, drinking and laughing, and living life as best friends do.
Soon enough, it was time to move on. Frankie had booked a table for dinner (‘We’ll need to amend the reservation to five’) in a new restaurant on Great Western Road near Oran Mor. They’d have a nice little walk up Byres Road, perhaps stop for one more drink, then get dinner.
‘Have you heard they’re doing a new version of Salem’s Lot?’ asked Frankie, passing the time as they strolled down past the Art Galleries.
‘Another remake? Surely won’t be as good as the David Soul version. That creepy vampire kid in the window always freaked me out,’ said Catherine.
‘You won’t beat Carrie,’ bristled Dominic. ‘Sissy Spacek is a legend. And the mother’s hand bursting from the grave at the end? Classic cinema. They’ll never remake that,’ he said conclusively.
Crossing over the River Kelvin, Lisa realised he had fallen back. ‘Wait up,’ she urged the group, who turned to look.
Dominic was standing, agog. He lifted one shaking hand and pointed at the inside of a bus shelter. A van was parked adjacent, and a lady in overalls was affixing a new poster inside the advertising pane. The group of friends followed his finger to the source of his consternation. There, in brash red lettering, the posted declared:
Time to get in your closet and seek forgiveness!
‘Carrie: the Musical,’
Coming soon to the Kings, Glasgow!
‘Weren’t you just …’ Lisa attempted, but Dominic cut her off.
‘Yes, I was. I was just speaking about this very thing.’
‘What a coincidence,’ she said passively, and moved the group back on. Frankie looked at Dominic, a look which said, that’s amazing, pal; but I’m starving, so let’s get to the dinner gong. The friends moved on.
They were now on Torness Street. Dominic had gone quiet. ‘You okay, Dom?’ Lisa asked.
‘Aye, it’s just that was a bit weird, you know?’
‘Aye,’ said Tommy, ‘…like finding a hundred pounds lying in the street.’
They caught up with each other at Byres Road and waited to cross the street. Frankie and Catherine were canoodling, and Tommy rolled his eyes. Dominic, typically shy about such things, looked down at the kerb.
There, in the gutter, was a note. He fished it out of some dried-up leaves and straightened it out. It was a hundred-pound note. Dominic had never seen one, far less hold one.
‘Jesus,’ he whispered, a real tone of fright in his voice.
‘No frigging way,’ said Frankie. ‘You’ve literally just talked about finding a one hundred. Dom, me old chum, you are on fire today! And looks like dinner is on you!’
The traffic lights changed to red, the green man lit, and the friends careered over the road … all that is, except Dominic. He was standing at the kerb, holding the note, his mouth open.
This was when Frankie christened him with his new nickname, shouting from across the street. ‘We’ll have to call you Mister Coincidence!’
Dominic was giddy; his typical shyness was fleeing like shadows at dawn. He found himself puffing out his chest and, watching his friends laughing, he knew that they were no longer laughing at him, but with him; that he was their gladiatorial entertainment, reaching his arms into the sky and bellowing Are you not entertained? Every dog has his day, so his father used to say. Well, woof woof, Dominic thought. Finding that note on top of everything else was like a key had been turned in a very old lock, and oaken double-doors thrown open with panache.
He bounded over the street, carrying his discovery like Chamberlain stepping off a biplane and ready to speak to the gathering press-corp. ‘We’ll dine like kings!’ he said, and his friends whooped and cheered.
Then, he took Lisa to one side with a deft curtsey. ‘Or in your case, madam, like a princess!’
Lisa giggled and planted a kiss on Dominic’s cheek. ‘Pray, my liege, let us drink and be merry.’
What a fine sight they were, the company, like the merry men on their way to an evening of song and dance. Dominic found that he enjoyed this unlocked version of himself; oh, he was sensible enough to know that there was a hearty dose of social lubrication involved in greasing his wheels, but this was his day. His day to shine. And yes, perhaps—perhaps—he might even finally, at long last, declare his feelings for Lisa. My sleeve is bereft of a heart, he thought. Well, no more, not today!
Dominic swept into the lead of the group with aplomb, taking Lisa’s hand, and raced with her to the next set of lights at the Tennent’s bar crossroads.
‘What has got into him!’ said Catherine, arm in arm with Frankie. ‘He’s like a different person! All these coincidences have really unleashed his confidence!’
It was at this moment that Catherine caught the glance, the side-eye, which Frankie had thrown to Tommy. That was a glance which she knew well, and it meant mischief. Tommy was sniggering, stifling a laugh. Catherine stopped both of them dead in their tracks.
‘You two idiots are up to something. Spill it now.’
Tommy was now doubled over, with the sort of unstoppable laughter which we suffer in those places where we should laugh the least. Catherine turned to her beau. ‘Tell me what’s going on and I mean now, Frankie.’
Frankie cleared his throat, his face a confused mix of shared amusement with Tommy and concerned reserve with Catherine.
‘Just a bit of fun, Cat, that’s all. Tommy and I, we felt it was time to give old Dom a little bit of a nudge.’
‘What do you mean, give him a nudge?’ she scowled.
Up ahead, Dominic and Lisa were cavorting, waiting for the others to catch up.
‘It’s just a wind-up, that’s all,’ said Tommy, rubbing tears on his cheeks. Catherine turned her back on Tommy and stared at Frankie. Tell me everything now, her eyes blazed at him.
‘Tommy went in ahead of us tonight and gave the barmaid money to cover Dom’s rounds. We thought it would be funny to get him thinking he was having all the drinks for free.’
‘And she played along? Gave him a wink or two as part of your plan to wind him up?’
‘Exactly! She was in on it. A good sport,’ answered Tommy.
‘What else have you clowns been up to?’
‘Well, Lisa was messaging me about coming back and I said it would be fun to surprise Dom. She’s at her wits’ end waiting on him to make a move. I said we’d … engineer it; so he’d be a bit bolder,’ said Tommy.
‘So you both knew Lisa was going to show up?’
‘Yup. And on the way into Duke’s I saw the new Carrie posters going up, and of course we know that’s Dom’s favourite movie. So, I asked the woman if she would come back to do that particular bus stop at a certain time. We knew we’d been heading down that way to get to our reservations on time. She was into the plan big time, a real romantic! She said she wanted to help true love find its way. We then just had to make Dom think of Carrie, as we walked boy, so I threw in the Salem’s Lot chat to coax him.’
Catherine didn’t know whether to be livid or delighted at the mischievous ingeniousness of it all.
‘And the money?’
‘Simple—I dropped it there when he wasn’t looking. If he hadn’t clocked it, I’d have found an excuse to double back and try it again further up the road,’ explained Tommy.
‘So, all these coincidences, they’ve all been … manufactured?’
Tommy spread his arms. ‘And the crowd went wild,’ he purred. ‘Look at the two of them up there, having a ball. Maybe you’ll need to call your man and I the Cupid Brothers. We’ll make up a funny dance and start trending.’
Catherine was shaking her head. Though smiling, she was also annoyed at the juvenile foolishness of it all. She looked again at Dominic, who was now, by all accounts, trying to impress Lisa with an impression of Singin’ in the Rain, twirling around a lamppost.
But then she saw Dominic do something odd. He put his hand over his eyes. He said something to Lisa, lifted his hand away, and she clapped. Catherine, Frankie and Tommy got closer.
Dominic was guessing the colours of the cars driving behind him.
‘Roll up, roll up, folks! They call me Mister Coincidence! I can guess the colour of your car, your favourite movie, all for a buck!’ Dom said, laughing. He placed his hands over his eyes again, swinging around the lamp, and when he came to a stop, he swooped down low, enticing his audience to come hither. The sun was now streaming down Highburgh Road, like a spotlight for the great entertainer.
‘I can tell you all today … that the very next car to pass on my right will be a … silver Nexus driven by a middle-aged lady!’
Lisa was clasping his arms, trying to get him to stop swinging on the lamppost. ‘Dom! Give up, we all believe you!’
But there, sure enough, was a silver Nexus. And inside it, sure enough, was a middle-aged lady. She saw Dominic capering at the lights and reached to put on her sunglasses. Catherine threw a withering look at Frankie and Tommy, who shrugged it off. ‘A fluke,’ Tommy whispered.
‘One last time, for the fair lady!’ Dominic announced, and began swinging around the lamppost again, with his hand over his eyes.
‘Let’s get going, Dom, me old son, we’ll be late for dinner!’ Frankie said, trying to catch Dominic’s arm.
But Dominic kept swinging. Round and round. Adrenaline was coursing through him now. He had, at last, unleashed his inner extrovert, and no-one and nothing was going to stop him.
‘Okay, Dom, we’re convinced!’ Lisa implored, a note of worry in her voice.
But Dominic swung again, round and round. Dominic was not for stopping. He had only just begun.
Along the road, the lady had made a sharp U-turn. She was heading back, driving erratically. She had put on her husband’s prescription sunglasses and panicked; blinded by the sun streaming into the car. Onlookers later said they could she her flailing, grasping at the glasses and the wheel at the same time.
‘Dom! Dom! Look out!’ Lisa cried as the silver Lexus sped towards them.
Just at that same moment, Dominic lost his grip. Dizzy, drunk, and high on manufactured luck, he stumbled backward into the road and was struck head-on by the careering Lexus. His body flipped into the air like a rag-doll and landed flat on his face with a crunching smush. The Lexus crashed into a car parked on the other side of the crossroads; airbags deployed, alarms set off.
There was an oddly quiet moment as the group of friends stood at the lights, watching a one-hundred-pound note gently waft in oddly decreasing circles. It landed next to Dominic, whose body lay silent, crumpled.
‘Dom! No!’ wailed Lisa. She fell to him then, to try to save him; to do something.
She stared at his emptying eyes; and his life flashed before her. There would be no final exams for him; no beautiful romance for them. No career in academia. No more pints at Duke’s. Despite her flailing efforts, his eyes closed.
And then, bustling through the crowd, the lady appeared. ‘Let me in, you fools,’ she buzzed, carrying a doctor’s first aid bag. She set to work on Dominic immediately, placing him in the recovery position and checking his back and airways. Feeling his ribs, she quickly established the poor boy had a pneumothorax. She fished in her bag and, with etiquette and poise, performed a needle aspiration and inserted a small plastic tube. As he breathed again, so did she. The boy will live.
Across the road, standing outside Tennent’s bar, was old Jimmy Sloan. He had watched all of this unfold with a studious eye, puffing on his roll-up. He nudged his drinking pal, Ian McCourt, out doing the same.
‘Here, Ian. I suppose if you want tae git yerself run doon, might as well make sure it’s a doctir dis the runnin’.’
‘Aye, Jimmy. Hopefully the lad’s no three bad, noo that wee doctir wummin hus seen tae him. What a coincidence, eh?’
‘Aye, by Christ … whit a coincidence!’
