Saved By The Firefighter
Chapter 94

Kelvin's Point of View.

As far as memorable dates go, yeah, I think I have cracked that. But for enjoyable dates, not so much!

Although Joanne said she has never been seasick before, bobbing about in this rust bucket that stinks of fish, has her hanging over the side, whilst I rub her back as she feeds the fish with the contents of her stomach.

She keeps trying to smile and reassure me she loves the effort I made, but her face is a pale green colour and once again her head is hanging over the boat, tears streaming down her face, from retching so much. Noticing the state Joanne was in, mercifully, Jack had turned the boat around and we were currently sailing past the massive posh yacht. I looked at it once more with a wistful sigh. Now that would have been both memorable and amazing, if we had gone on it. Still, it is what it is.

I took a chance at calling Joanne my girlfriend, but that is what she is. As far as I am concerned, she is the best woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing. I must think of something to rescue this date and do something fun for her. However, at the moment, all I can think about is getting her off this damned boat, and back on solid ground. Seeing her struggling like this is doing something to my heart, like breaking it!

Hell, I want to give her the moon and stars, show her just how deserving she is. But all I have managed to do is give her green skin, and the ability to projectile vomit across the North Sea.

Finally, we pulled up on the dock, and Jack tied off the boat, then he put the gang plank down, enabling us to finally get off.

I take hold of Joanne's hand, and despite the fact that she has just been sick, I still get those sparks rushing up my arm, and a sense of utter pride as I wind her small delicate fingers in my large stubby ones. Wordlessly, I helped her off this damned boat, thanking Jack, when really, I just wanted to shove him overboard.

Magnificent boat, my backside!

As we stepped onto the quayside, I gently removed her life jacket, handing it back to Jack, before throwing my arm around her shoulders and pulling her into my side.

"Well, that was fun," I said, although it was as far removed from fun as the North pole is from the South.

"I am sorry." Joanne sighed, the colour starting to return to her cheeks.

"Why are you sorry? It is not your fault I was duped into hiring a rust bucket," I tell her.

"I know, but you went to all that trouble for me to spoil our date by throwing up my breakfast." She sighs.

"You are worth the trouble babe, so don't ever apologise for something you have no control over," I tell her, really hating that she feels she has done something wrong. Again, it irks me that some undeserving arsehole has made her feel like everything is her fault. I bend down to give her a kiss, but she turns her head away.

"Sorry, but I just threw up my guts, you are not kissing me, until I get a toothbrush and scrub my teeth." She gives me a giggle; the sound makes my heart leap around in my chest, other than Moses's little laughs, it is the best sound in the world.

We head up into Newcastle City Centre, making our way towards Grey's Monument, as there is a big chemist there, where I can get my woman a toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouth wash, so she can feel happier, and more confident. Also, because I really want to taste her lips with my own as soon as possible.

After purchasing the toothcare things, we head over the road to Starbucks. I stand in the queue as Joanne excuses herself for the bathroom.

"What would you like to drink?" I ask her, before she disappears on me.

"Ooo, skinny latte with sugar-free caramel syrup." She smiles, and I ignore the tiny piece of residue carrot that is residing in her teeth, from throwing up.

I cannot keep the grin off my face as she rushes to the bathroom, watching her sexy backside sway in those sprayed on jeans she is wearing. God alone knows how she is actually breathing in the things, but my length appreciates her lack of oxygen and stands in full salute at her kind gesture.

I tear my eyes away from her glorious behind, turning to the lady behind the counter and order our drinks. I would normally offer her one of the amazing muffins they sell, but she has just been ill on that rust bucket of a boat, so probably will not want food just yet. I take the tray and head to one of the couches and place it on the table and await Joanne's return.

As I sit, I see a man wearing a green bomber jacket, his head shaved bauld, and a swastika tattooed on the side of his head. His blue denims are rolled up to the top of his doc martin boots, and he is currently giving me a look as if I am the scum of the earth. Joy, just what I need, a raving racist bastard glaring at me. It's not the first time I've encountered this. Let's be real here, most black men and women have, but I really cannot be bothered to deal with this, when out on a date with Joanne. Plus, I doubt very much my woman has ever encountered the grotesque species of the white supremacist at work. I can only hope his vileness doesn't scare her too much, or worse still, have her second-guessing having a relationship with a black man.

I take a breath, feeling more than a little on edge as I prepare myself for the onslaught of racial abuse, I know will come my way, before this coffee is finished. But I refuse to move seats, that would make the imbecilic feel like he had won, and I'll never let people like him win.

Joanne walks out of the bathroom, her smile is wide, teeth bright white, and she looks so much better than she did going in there. She slides onto the couch next to me, and I automatically place a protective arm around her shoulders. "Better?" I ask her.

"Much, thank you for the coffee." She grins at me.

"You are most welcome." I smile down at her, getting lost in those big hazel eyes she has, they're the window to her soul. All I can see is total happiness, and I hope that's because she's with me, and not just because she has cleaned her teeth. "f*****g disgusting," the Neo-Nazi across from us shouts across.

Great, here we go, this date just keeps getting better and better. I chose to ignore the i***t, keeping my focus and concentration on Joanne. After all, she is much better to look at than a bauld headed i***t. "That should be illegal," he shouts again.

Joanne furrows her brows, not understanding just what is happening right now, then looks over to the racist bastard, the look of realisation dawns on her face, and she lets out an annoyed breath, rolling her eye in disgust at him. "Just ignore him," I whisper to her.

"Yeah, if you feel uncomfortable, we can leave though. Not that I want to, I would prefer to stay and upset his stupid ideals for a little longer." Joanne smiles at me.

"I never walk away, but if you want to go, we can." I smile at her.

"Definitely not, his issues are his problems. I happen to feel rather proud to be sat here cuddled up with the best looking, kindest, loveliest man in the Northeast of England." Joanne grins at me, then snuggles into my chest a little further, her hand resting on my stomach.

I must admit, her words make my chest puff out, because as I gaze into her eyes, I see nothing but truth in her words.

"Oi, b***h, could you not get a white man, and got so desperate you had to slum it with that black scum," the racist pig shouts over.

A hushed silence falls around the coffee shop, as people begin to stare. Some look uncomfortable at the confrontation, others look annoyed at the racist pig whilst the rest pretend it isn't happening.

Now, I will ignore anyone having a go at me for my skin colour, but will never allow them to target my woman.

I shift towards him a little bit, as Joanne places her hand on my chest and shakes her head at me.

"Ignore it. I don't care what he thinks," she whispers to me.

My instinct is to defend the woman I am fast falling for, but she is right, there is no use in adding fuel to the fire. I relax back into the chair, my fingers trailing up and down her shoulder and top of her arm. "You lot should leave our women alone and f**k off back to where you came from. Black bastard," the Neo-Nazi shouts once more.

"Why doesn't the management come and chuck him out," Joanne whispers.

"Unfortunately, not a lot do. It is better than it once was, but still people try to pretend this isn't happening." I sigh, explaining the reality of being a person of colour.

"It is disgusting," Joanne whispers again, her face looking sad, like she cannot believe that in this day and age there are still people who judge a person or attack someone because of the colour of their skin.

"You know what, let's just go. If they cannot come and get rid of the trash that is that i***t, then I don't want them to have our business," Joanne suddenly decides.

"But then he will think he has won. But, yes, we can leave." I smile down at her.

"Oh, he will not win. Trust me," she responds, and I have to chuckle because I see a determination in her eyes and know something is about to go down.

We finish off the last of our drinks, as Neo-Nazi scum bag stands up to go get himself another coffee. His large belly is hanging over his jeans, his black t-shirt tucked in. I notice he is a good 5 or 6 inches shorter than me, so go to stand up myself, taking hold of Joanne's hand.

"Wait a second." Joanne smiles, then looks through her bag, her eyes watching the bozo as he collects another cup of steaming hot coffee. She throws her bag over her shoulder and waits for the i***t to sit back down as he continues to stare at us both in disgust. With a smile on her face that I know means she has planned something, she nods her head. We walk out and as we pass his table; she allows her bag to drop, hitting off his hot cup of coffee, knocking it over the scalding contents spilling all over his lap. "Oops, I am SO SORRY! Don't worry though, the damage should not be too bad given you have a tiny p***s even for a white man," Joanne shouts, then walks away as the Neo-Nazi racist bastard is stood up, squealing like a pig, trying to pull the jeans covered in scalding hot coffee from his nether regions, as the people around us all start to giggle at him.

A little old lady with white hair leans over towards him.

"Serves you right, you are a disgusting poor excuse for a human. My father fought against Hitler and won; you are nothing but a discussing pig," she shouts at him.

"You b***h, you did that on purpose, that is assault," he screams after Joanne.

"Nope, I saw the whole thing sir, and it was obviously an accident," finally, the manager comes across.

He turns to us and passes me a gift card.

"I am sorry you had to endure that sir, please accept this gift card as way of an apology. My staff should have evicted him the moment he made comments. I will be having a chat with them about this," the manager states.

"Thank you, and honestly, my bag just dropped off my shoulder. I must not have put it on correctly in my haste to get out of here, given how uncomfortable that man made us feel." Joanne smiles at the manager, attempting to look innocent but the glint in her eye gives her away.

"Yes, I can see that." The manager chuckles.

We leave the coffee shop and walk back towards the car. I want to get out of this place, because this amazing date I planned has turned into a barrel of s**t.

"He squealed higher than a little girl," Joanne suddenly says, then begins to giggle.

"He did. But Joanne, this type of thing happens more than you would think," I tell her, taking a breath, hoping she doesn't re-evaluate our relationship knowing this could, and let's face it, probably would, happen again, maybe not like what just happened, but in some form or other.

"It shouldn't, but hey, I'm proud to be with you, you make me happier than anyone I've ever been with. I would say it doesn't bother me, but that is incorrect, it does bother me, but only that people are still so narrow minded and disgusting in this world." Joanne smiles.

"So, you have not thought better of being with me?" I ask, suddenly feeling a little insecure.

"Why would I? Nope, if anything, I admire your forbearance, you were a lot calmer than I was. Why, did I handle it badly?" she asks, suddenly looking as insecure as I felt.

"Nope, you are, as always amazing. Now, what can we do to rescue the rest of the day?" I ask.

"Oh, well, I can think of something, but that may be presumptuous of me, and not at all lady like." She grins at me.

"Not presumptuous at all, and you are every inch a lady. My lady. So, your place or mine?"