The New Coat

 The New Coat 

By Jane Scoggins 

It had been a long time coming but today was the day for shopping. Not just any shopping, but specifically for a new coat.  Very long overdue, and dreamed about for quite some time. The main reason for the wait was money of course. Not enough of it for the sort of coat he dreamed of having.  After a period of saving and with birthday money, and the use of a credit card, the time had come when it was possible to fulfil the dream, and the need, because winter was starting to bite and Ricky’s jacket was just not warm enough. He was going to go all out for a thick warm full length, good quality winter coat. He had looked in the shops, in magazines and online and knew that the sort of coat he wanted would be at least £200. Ricky didn't drive, couldn’t afford a car anyway, so his usual mode of transport was the bus. Very convenient for work and shops with a bus stop five minutes walk from his flat. It was a busy Saturday with lots of folk out shopping. Ricky felt a buzz of excitement. He had three shops in mind and planned to visit each one before making up his mind.  He had no intention of buying such a precious garment online. No he wanted to be able to luxuriate in the whole process of choosing, trying on, and taking his time. After all, for him, it was to be an unusually expensive purchase. He had set the day aside for this trip, It felt like an adventure. He didn't have much adventure in his life normally. He had mates at work and some friends he met up with to go to football or the pub, but no one special, like a girlfriend. He had a nice Mum he saw maybe one a month, but that didn’t count in the same way. She had suggested more than once that he could do with a better coat when he turned up shivering in his thin jacket, but he had always brushed it aside,saying he was fine. He knew it would please her to see him sporting a smart new warm coat. It seemed to him that mothers worried about their children keeping warm, even when they were grown up. He could remember all the times she zipped or buttoned him into his school coats right up to his neck from September to March during his school years. Well maybe until the age of nearly twelve when he insisted she stop.

The town was busy. Ricky decided on having a Costa coffee before he started shopping. He liked the idea of making the pleasure last and the idea of delayed gratification.

He went to the three shops he knew would sell the sort of quality coats he was looking for. All very nice in the first two, with possible contenders, but it was not till he stepped into the plush surrounds of the third shop and ran his eyes and his hands over their rail of gentlemen's overcoats and tried some on that he was sure he had found the right shop and the right coat. The sales assistant was helpful and attentive but not pushy, only commenting in a genuine sort of way

 ‘Colour suits you sir, nice fit in the arms and across the shoulders too’.

Which made Ricky feel a bit more comfortable in the sort of posh shop he had never been in before. He made his choice, an understated Reiss Gable Wool Blend single breasted Epsom overcoat. Camel coloured. It was expensive alright and momentarily he wondered if he was a bit mad, foolish in fact, at such a purchase. Even the carrier bag with his new coat carefully wrapped around in tissue paper looked expensive. Wanting to maintain the feeling of excitement he went to a snazzy cafe, sat at a little bistro table in the window and set his precious carrier bag on the seat next to him, like as if it was a guest, while he ate a toasted sandwich. Ricky then headed for home. At the bus stop he sat on the bench and waited for the bus. While he was waiting he texted two of his friends to see if they were still up for a night out. Just before the bus arrived his Mum phoned

 ‘Hello Ricky, cold today isn't it? Would you like to come for a roast dinner next Sunday? Also if you could, will you take a look at the shelf in the kitchen, its gone a bit wobbly’

‘Yes sure Mum, would love to look forward to one of your roasts, they always keep the cold out. And yes, I will take a look at your shelf. Probably just needs another screw fixing. Got to go the bus is here’

Ricky jumped on the crowded bus, paid his fare and went to the back to find on of the few vacant seats.

It was more that a few minutes before he realised he’d left the carrier bag with his precious new coat on the bench at the bus stop. He rang the bell, and had to wait several more agonising minutes before the next stop. He ran from the bus all the way back to the bench. The carrier bag was gone, nowhere to be seen. Ricky looked around frantically but there was nothing, and no one in sight. He sank to the bench in disbelief, tears springing to his eyes. Perhaps someone kind had picked it up and would hand it in somewhere? Too awful to imagine someone heartless had taken it for themselves or to sell on. He would make enquiries at the shop, he would contact the police, even though police stations didn’t seem to take in lost property, or even be open these days. He would have to wait in agony and hope and pray for the best.

Ricky spent a few miserable hours at home. He cried off from his usual Saturday night at the pub with the boys. He paced and fidgeted, couldn’t settle, and slept badly. He struggled through Sunday. On Monday he went to work as usual. At coffee break he phoned the shop to hear that so far no one had handed in his carrier bag and coat. The assistant took his telephone number and told him she would contact him if (by a miracle her tone of voice implied) the coat was returned to the shop. Ricky phoned 101 and explained his loss to the police person, who was very understanding, but didn’t hold out much hope. Ricky realised that his coat would not be rated very high, if at all, on the scale of importance. However he left his contact number in the million to one chance his coat was handed in or found somewhere. He was very aware that despite his very precise description, bobbies on the beat would not be apprehending every male wearing an exact description of his coat. Unless of course it was being worn by a known lowlife fence or drug dealer whose usual outdoor attire was a Primark hoody.

Two weeks passed and the painful loss of the beautiful coat lessened only slightly. Ricky wore his old jacket and often felt cold and miserable

  Once or twice he thought he glimpsed his coat on the back of a fleeting figure across the street or in the shopping arcade, but he knew in his heart that it wasn’t. He had left his details, along with his shame and embarrassment with the sales person in the posh shop where he had bought his wonderful quality coat, just in case. The look on the assistant’s face was sympathetic but that was all. It probably didn't mean much to him in the scheme of things. But it probably made quite a good story to tell about the man who didn't look like he could afford an expensive coat but had bought one none the less, and then within an hour had left it at a bus stop, never to be seen again. What an idiot. Ricky felt he deserved every bit of idiot shaming. He hated himself for being so stupid. It had been foolish of him to even think he could own such a coat. Would his mates have laughed at him for being above himself, showing off. Would he have been worried every time he took it off that someone would take it? Some grotty scumbag in the pub. Maybe he would have felt so worried about his precious coat he would have felt limited as to where he could wear it. He was just an ordinary bloke on not much of a salary, mixing with other ordinary people who bought their clothes in cheap outlets, and not that often at that. He thought it best to cut his losses and save for another coat, this time something more sensible like an all weather quilted jacket from Sports Direct. It would have to do. So he did, and was glad of the warmth, and the compliments from his mates down the pub. But one day he was in a charity shop browsing the book section when he saw a coat hanging up behind the till. It was a man’s camel overcoat. His heart skipped a beat. It was not his coat, not the quality, neither was it new, but looked good, and warm. On impulse he asked to try it on. The lady assistant took it down and showed it to him.

‘Its only just come in actually’

  Ricky tried it on, it fitted apart from the sleeves being too long. The assistant looked at him and smiled, and he smiled back. Somehow she knew it meant something important to him. He found himself looking at her for a comment, approval. She did not disappoint

‘Colour suits you, good fit across the shoulders’.

 He was transported back to the posh shop, where the sales assistant had said the same thing. He was grateful she didn’t comment on the sleeves being too long. He smiled at her, and said he would have it. With the same grace and understanding as before she said.

‘Good choice, I will find a bag to put it in’

Ricky watched as she disappeared out the back and returned triumphant with not just any bag, but a large handsome carrier with Selfridge's written across the front.

‘Thank you that will do me just fine’ 

He left the shop content, knowing his Mum would shorten the sleeves. He would wear this coat on appropriate occasions as an alternative to his North face weather proof jacket. He was back on track for putting the loss of the posh coat behind him and getting back to being his old self.

 

Copyright Jane Scoggins