Love Comes Knocking, Kathy Cakebread [top novels of all time txt] 📗

to go on a date with him? After all she was sensible looking, smart, interesting and pretty girl; not an insane, insomniac like Hayleigh. Just the thought of her sent him into a cold sweat; he’d never been in trouble with the police before her yet now he had the blight of the police order hanging over him. Only girls like Hayleigh were interested in guys like him he thought miserably. They latched on like a leech driving their claws deep till they took him for all he had and then spat out his poor, sorry remains once more. But then Ben had always believed in fate, it’s how he managed to pull himself up off the floor each time girls like Hayleigh had blew him off, and there had been many times.

He believed in his heart that he’d find a nice girl one day and settle down, have a family and live happily ever after and although life wasn’t a fairy tale Ben knew one day he’d have his happy ending, all he needed was to keep trying, maybe Francesca would be the one? Guessing it was now or never Ben plucked up the courage to ask her for a date.
“So what do you think?” Ben asked expectantly.
Francesca’s eyes narrowed and hesitantly she began to bite her lip. The remains of her bagel seemed to provoke a sudden interest in Francesca then as her fingers, with the slightly chipped pink nail varnish and chewed nails, began to play with the crumbs.

Ben knew he’d hit her off guard and that he’d probably never had a hope in hell of getting a date with her; she just didn’t have the heart to tell him. Ben nodded as if he knew what was round the corner- her looking back up-her polite no then the excuse.
“Yes. Okay sure.” Francesca said finally.
Ben gasped. Had he heard her right? She smiled at him her eyes warm but slightly mysterious in nature.
“Where do you want to go?” she continued.
That confirmed it for him. Ben’s face instantly creased into a huge, beaming smile, his green eyes wide with incredible elation. None of the past mattered now; he had his whole future to think of, a future very possible filled by a lady whose name went by the very knowledgeable Francesca.
“How about a date at the bowling? I’m paying?” Ben asked.
Francesca smiled again.
“Sure.” She replied.
It was a simple one-word answer but it made Ben’s insides fizzle in expectant delight.


8. Bowling for a winner

Upon entering the bowling alley Ben felt like a kid again as the bright lights, excited voices and the sound of bowling balls impacting skittles hit his senses, throwing him into a childlike world of innocent joy and excitement. Francesca had planned to meet him inside and she hadn’t disappointed him. Unaware of his presence she sat, alone, with her back to him on a stool at the bar.

Grabbing his bowling shoes Ben approached Francesca and alerted her to his company with a cheery hello. She turned around with a queer smile, her olive eyes enquiring in his direction. Casual but stylishly dressed she wore boot cut jeans and a tight black strappy top. Her almond coloured hair was pulled back into a loose up do that was held in place with a black clip, whispery strands fell loosely from the style and were left to decorate her forehead. She had on a perfume that smelt nice but Ben couldn’t quite place the scent- flowers maybe? He was never too good in identifying smells.
“Hi Ben. You ready to go?” she asked.
“Yep, come on Fran it’s time for me to wow you with my superb bowling skills.”
“Not if I beat you to it.” She shrieked, running in front of Ben.

In the aftermath of much childlike behaviour – playful shoves and pushes – both Ben and Francesca arrived at the lane at the same time. Slipping the clown like bowling shoes onto his feet Ben dawdled in chitchat with Francesca whilst she too put on the most stylish fashion icon known to man.
“Who’s bowling first?” Francesca asked politely.
“As I’m a gentleman it’s ladies first of course.” Ben smiled.
Francesca giggled, her laugh was girly but not annoying – in fact Ben thought it was rather cute.
Inputting their details into the machine Ben motioned for Francesca to get ready. She reacted by gracefully picking up the ball between her thumb and forefingers and with a gentle but powerful run catapulted the ball into the lane. The ball rolled steadily, Ben held his breath as the ball neared the skittles; with one knock Francesca had won a strike!
Francesca whooped and turned to face Ben, her eyes challenging.
“Beat that buster!” she laughed.
Ben smiled coolly. She may have got the first strike but that was only because he’d let her go first, he’d soon be matching her score and her smile would be on the other side of her face. Ben may have been a gentleman when it came to his perfect etiquette but when it came to gaming it was a whole different ball game, if you excuse the pun.
“Go on Ben it’s your turn or can’t you face it, do you just want to hand the whole game over to me now and have it over with?” she sniggered.
Ben rebuffed such a suggestion.
“Me give up? Never!” he snorted.

Stepping boldly to the balls Ben glanced over at Francesca his face set into a mild smirk. Acting as professional as he could possibly muster Ben slotted his forefingers and thumb into the holes, all the while maintaining his cocky grin at Francesca. She smiled innocently, waiting for Ben to attempt his turn. Picking up the ball he walked over to the lane and did a little jog, warming his muscles up for lift off. His foot taking one step back, then another and another Ben found himself around four inches from the lane.

Taking a deep breath he steadied his bowling hand, this was it, it was time, running towards the lane he held the ball loose, ready for lift off. He was sure he’d thrown it but nothing had happened. Confused Ben glanced down at his hand; the ball was still attached.
“Is everything okay over there?” Francesca asked.
“Um, yes everything’s fine, the ball just didn’t come off last time, but not to worry I’ll just do it again.” Ben laughed.
“Okay doke.” She replied.
Repeating the process that should get him a master strike Ben flung himself out and waited for the sound of clunking skittles, only the sound didn’t come. Uneasiness had begun to sweep Ben’s system by this time as he realised there may be a reason for the balls apparent dislike to knocking skittles over.

Curiously he peered at his fingers in the holes, they certainly seemed to be fused solidly. If Francesca found out about this she’d be ribbing him for months. He couldn’t let that happen so sneakily he wet his fingers and then tried moving them about a bit – still nothing.
“Ben what’s wrong? Are you okay over there or do you need a little help?”
“No!” Ben said urgently.
“No? You sound a little worried, are you sure?” she said gently.
Ben grimaced.
“No, that’s a certain no okay Fran, its all systems go here.” Ben muttered.
Curiosity sprouted on Francesca’s features, was he plotting something? A ploy in which he could somehow throw a move that would gain him full marks every time? It was all so suspicious.
“Well why aren’t you bowling then?”
“I’m just… you know working my way up to it.”
“Okay…” she said suspiciously.
The slightly lubricated finger trick hadn’t worked in loosening his fingers so Ben had to think of something else. Glancing around the limited space he had to work in he spotted his glass of coke. He didn’t really fancy pouring his drink all over his hand but hey if it worked it would’ve been for a good cause wouldn’t it. And he could always buy another one. Aiming the glass he poured some of it in the holes and then twisted his fingers round, they still wouldn’t budge!!

Glancing slyly behind him Ben clocked Francesca glancing in the exact same direction her face unsure, as if she’d got an inkling of what he was up to. Gulping Ben turned back to the ball. How was he going to get out of this one? Maybe he should just own up but then Francesca would have the satisfaction of knowing Ben couldn’t even bowl the ball let alone get a strike! No that wasn’t the way… his brain working overtime Ben conjured a plan.
“Ben are we going to be here all night or are you just going to you know bowl the ball?” Francesca muttered; her voice slightly irritated.
“Yes Franny, I’m going to bowl right this very second.” Ben said chirpily.
Hoping his plan would work Ben pushed the stuck bowling ball up his jumper; he already had a spare tire so Francesca would be unlikely to notice the extra weight he’d suddenly put on since they’d entered the bowling alley.

Directing his free hand towards a new ball Ben carefully picked it up. It was certainly heavy carrying all this extra weight; he hoped his aim would still be up to shot. Tottering backwards Ben ran unsteadily towards the lane his arm outstretched ready to propel the ball forwards. Luckily for Ben this ball flew off his fingers like a rocket, trundling down the lane like it had nothing to lose…unluckily however the extra weight Ben was hiding under his jumper and the sudden burst of energy from the flying ball sent Ben with it, hurtling his stunned exterior onto the bowling lane. Groaning Ben rolled onto his back, slowly opening his eyes he saw Francesca’s figure hunched over his, her face creased into genuine concern.
“Ben, are you okay? Did you faint or something?”
“No I…” Ben stuttered.
Francesca’s eyes suddenly grew wide.
“Hey what the hell is that!?” she muttered, her fingers pointing to Ben’s extended midriff.
Throughout his little performance the bowling ball had shrewdly stayed in place. His face sheepish Ben knew his defiant act of attempting to keep in the game was a mistake. He should’ve just admitted his fingers were stuck in the first place at least Francesca wouldn’t think he was the fool she would think he was when his secret was revealed.
“The aliens did it.” Ben said lamely.
Francesca’s eyes turned sceptical. She clearly didn’t believe a word of it - and Ben was glad because if she had believed him then she obviously wasn’t the quick girl Ben thought her to be. Ben laughed, unveiling the bowling ball he glanced up at Francesca.
“You’re a clever girl, I didn’t think you’d work out I’d put on a stone or two since we came in here.” He said.
With her sudden insight Ben’s peculiar actions became perfectly understandable.
“I knew you were up to something Ben Dover! What the hell have you got a bowling ball stuffed up your shirt for?”
“Oh I was planning on taking it home and adding it to my collection.” Ben muttered sarcastically.
Francesca gasped, had she got Ben’s character wrong? Was his friendly, happy go lucky coffee shop ownership image just a pretence to hide his darker side – his side as a thief!? Ben looked at Francesca curiously; her eyes had widened with shock her mouth open slightly in amazement.
“You’ve fooled all these people all this time…. Jesus