‘My mum’s thinking about HRT,’ said Nora, tuning back in and wondering why Mickey was smirking at her.
‘HIIT stands for High Intensity Interval Training.’
‘Oh right. That’s not the same thing.’
‘Look, did you want to get out of here?’ he asked, downing the last of his coffee.
She did but not with him, though Nora was too polite to say that, so instead she nodded. They made it to reception where Mickey asked the receptionist to lie about where he was and she giggled.
‘You’ve still got a thing for receptionists then,’ said Nora as they walked outside.
Mickey laughed. ‘Yeah. It was all a bit awkward with Janette,’ he said. ‘She got a bit…’ He twirled his finger at the side of his head.
‘That’s quite unprofessional,’ she said.
‘You’re right. I said basically the same thing to management but because she made a fuss, I got my marching orders.’
‘I meant it was unprofessional of you to say that about a colleague,’ said Nora.
Mickey’s face went through a number of expressions, a little like the barrels on a fruit machine, until it settled on grinning disbelief. ‘Did you still want to come back to my place?’ He checked his watch. ‘I’ve got like thirty minutes.’ He pulled out some car keys and an ugly whitecar behind him flashed its indicators, which were oddly in time with Mickey’s eyebrows doing suggestive jumps.
‘What?’ asked Nora, most likely mirroring the look of disbelief but for different reasons.
‘You know. Back to mine. Quick…’ Instead of finishing the sentence Mickey whistled.
‘Oh good heavens. Are you suggesting we have sex?’
Mickey looked nervously about as he grinned like a teenage boy. ‘Yeah. What else did you come here for?’
‘You know, I’m not sure why I came but it definitely wasn’t for a hook-up with a dishonest, immoral and unscrupulous chancer like you. So thanks for the offer but you can stick it up your arse along with your bedside lamp!’ She turned and marched off.
‘Is that a definite no then?’ he called.
Nora stopped, turned around and strode back, making Mickey look wary. ‘I’m afraid it is, Mickey. And here’s some advice for you. When you can be anything in life, don’t be an arsehole!’
He looked genuinely confused as she walked away with her head held high. Maybe sometimes things were as easy as toe fungus. Mickey was a player and she wasn’t going to put herself through that ever again. If she’d learned anything about herself through this process, it was that she had standards.
28
It was a sunny day and– thanks to her taking down her 1970s orange and brown daisy curtains– Dixie had been woken early by the sunshine. But she didn’t mind because she had made a decision to be positive and have a can-do attitude. The latter had been a little tricky when she’d tried to put up her utensil rack and failed dismally but she had instead turned her attention to finishing the sticky fabric on the inside panels and now they looked brilliant– as long as she didn’t look too closely. Her followers agreed and that had given her a boost so she’d decided to reward herself with a bar of chocolate from the service station. She also needed to have a shower and lug back some water.
As she approached the van on her return she noticed it instantly– there was a new message under the wiper blade. Dixie dashed over with renewed vigour despite being knackered. She pulled the note out and read it.
Dixie– Thank you for explaining your situation. Whilst you are trespassing, I can see that you can’tsimply drive away. Therefore, I am happy to give you some leeway and allow you time to fix your van and trust that you will move on once you are able to. I apologize if my previous correspondence came across as bullish.
Dixie reread it. The tone was definitely friendlier, although she wouldn’t go so far as to say warm. But she did feel a sense of relief that she wasn’t about to be evicted any time soon. She carefully folded up the note and put it in her pocket. It wasn’t much but correspondence was always nice to receive. And in an odd way it made her feel less alone.
Straight away she penned a reply:
Thank you for understanding. It is very much appreciated.
She decorated it with flowers before popping it under the wiper. At the same time she balanced a few walnuts, ones she’d bought at the service station, on the other wiper blade for Arnold.
Dixie got to work on the curtains because she had pledged to do that but also because she really wasn’t a morning person and the thought of being woken by sunlight piercing her eyeballs at dawn again wasn’t a pleasant one. It was a long old job sewing by hand, but one thing she did have was time and she needed something to fill it. It took her a while to set up her phone tofilm it as a timelapse but she’d read that followers liked to have varied content so it would be worth the effort.
She was starting to flag on curtain number two when a thump on the roof of the van made her jump and stab herself with the needle. ‘Ouch!’
As she sucked her sore finger she listened to the tiny footsteps scamper across the roof until Arnold’s front legs and then tummy appeared at the windscreen. The squirrel slid down until she could reach a nut then retreated. It was a simple thing but it was nice to watch Arnold keep returning until all the walnuts had been snaffled.
