Now Valentine’s Day has gone for another year, here’s a short story I wrote in a few minutes for our local writing’ group a week ago. The story’s not really going anywhere yet. It’s just a bit of fun.

The Valentine Card

February the fourteenth was just another day. David did what he always did on a Friday. He cycled to school, spent the morning trying to teach basic football skills to year eight boys who just wanted to kick the shit out of each other, and last thing in the afternoon he had to cover year ten geography because someone had got themselves on a course so they could have a long weekend in London.

He stood in the staffroom at four thirty, checking his emails. The two women who taught French in the MFL department were chatting loudly in the doorway about what they were doing that evening. ‘Kyle’s taking me to Noom for Valentine’s,’ Annaleise shrieked as Gabby stared at David’s legs in his cycle shorts in a way that completely unnerved him and said, ‘What are you doing for Valentine’s then, David?’

He shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Nothing.’

They both found that hilariously funny for some reason.

He shrugged on his backpack and cycled back to his little flat, on the first floor. The moment he pushed his bicycle through the gap in the door, he noticed it on the carpet. A thick white envelope. Pristine. Untouched.

He picked it up.

Somone had delivered it by hand. There wasn’t a stamp. Just his name, David, in round writing. Not even a surname. He tore the envelope with fumbling fingers.

The card inside was a picture of a single rose, embossed, deep crimson, like blood. The words above the flower said Be Mine.

David didn’t know anyone who wanted him to be theirs. He assumed it was a joke.

He opened it.

Inside someone had printed four words that made him frown.

You drive me crazy.

David had no idea what that meant. It was definitely a joke. His mind scanned the list of his friends: Jack and Manjeet who he played squash with, Sheppy and Annie from next door. It certainly couldn’t be any of them. He wondered if his mother had sent it, because she knew he had no girlfriend now. Perhaps she felt sorry for him being single.

But mums didn’t say You drive me crazy.

He remembered his ex-girlfriend, Leanne. God forbid. It couldn’t be her. He hadn’t heard from her in six months. He didn’t want to. He just wanted to forget how badly it had ended.

He tucked the card in his jacket pocket and made for the pub. It was Friday night. Ros from the Pupil Referral Unit in school would be there. She’d shed some light on the Valentine’s card. They’d have a laugh about it and drink a pint or two.

David was sure Ros hadn’t sent it. She’d told him she batted for both sides. Anyway, she’d set her sights on a girl called Lilly who was a dancer. David was safe with Ros.

The pub was half full when he arrived, the bar stinking of dust and old perfume and stale hops. Ros was already in the corner with two pints, texting. David plonked himself next to her, feeling the week’s tension ebbing away as he reached for a full glass.

Ros said, ‘Happy Valentine’s, big boy. Did you get any cards?’

He saw her surprise as he produced it. She looked at it for a long time, with a little knot between her eyes.

‘Who sent you this?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ David said.

‘They must be some kind of weirdo.’

‘Why?’

‘Look at the message. Whoever wrote this is a psycho.’

David shivered. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It’s the whole abdication of responsibility thing’ Ros made a face. ‘Like it’s your fault. Like the Ripper can’t help slaughtering his victims because they have a powerful effect on him. Or Dracula.’ She lifted her hands and pretended to throttle an invisible prey. ‘You drive me crazy.’

David took the card from the table and shoved it in his pocket. ‘It’ll be someone’s idea of a joke.’

‘It’s no joke.’ Ros shook her head knowingly. ‘You should start thinking about who this might be from. Then avoid them. Whoever it is, they’re desperate.’

‘Desperate for what?’ David asked nervously.

‘You,’ Ros said and started laughing. David laughed too, although he had to force it.

But on the way home, as darkness filled the shadows of each doorway, David felt uncomfortable. He had no idea who’d sent him the card. And Ros’s words worried him, mostly because he’d been through a list of almost everyone he knew, and there was no way any of them would have sent a card with a red rose saying he drove them crazy.

He hurried up the stone steps to his flat on the first floor, faster than usual. He could imagine someone behind him, a soft footfall, maniacal mouth wide in a grin. His ears craned as he imagined a voice.

Crazy…

His keys already poised, he was about to open his front door and rush to safety when he saw it. A blood red rose on his door. Nailed there, the leaves spread out like a crucifix.

David was suddenly cold. Someone somewhere was having a laugh at his expense.

Surely…