“So, I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat. I mean, you look hungry, so…”
“I look hungry?”
“No, I mean, you look great, you always look great, I just thought…”
“You thought I looked hungry.” I pretended to look stern as I leaned forward, steepling my hands in front of me.
“Bloody hell, Thompson, has anyone ever told you you’re hard work?”
“A time or two.” I shrugged.
“I’m trying to say, do you want to get something to eat. With me, in case that wasn’t clear enough.” He raised his chin like he expected me to rebuke me.
I surprised myself when I didn’t immediately do so. I’d turned down dates in the past couple of years. The thought of it gave me a kind of anxiety I hadn’t wanted to examine too closely, but, when Patrick asked, I didn’t want to say no immediately.
That was new.
He was nice. He was kind, and he’d never made me feel like I needed to prove my right to even be in the building, like so many others in our team had. They thought I didn’t know how they secretly called me ‘the intern’. Patrick went out of his way to include me.
So why did I hesitate? I could do it.
I paused so long, that my phone rang in the time it took for me to make up my mind, buzzing angrily along the desk like an overstimulated wasp.
“Sorry,” I stammered in the now awkward silence between us, “I should get that. Another time?” It came out as a question, but I wasn’t sure if I was asking him, or if I was asking if he would ask me again.
“Another time.” He smiled at me and left.
I looked at my phone screen. Becka – probably on her lunch break.
“Another time,” I said quietly, watching him walk back down the corridor.
Chapter 31
June
“Have you been to the toilets yet?” Becka didn’t even try to hide the glee in her voice.
“No, Becka,” I sighed, “I have not, but I’m sure they’re fine.”
I propped my phone up against my stuffed backpack as I rolled out my sleeping bag, glad I didn’t have to construct my own tent. The tent – a large 8-man one – had been pitched when I’d arrived and assigned to me, or rather, assigned toFrequency.
“They’re cubicles suspended over a hole in the ground,” she giggled, clearly enjoying the idea of my imagined discomfort.
“Becka, you were the only one who had a problem with the toilets, remember? I couldn’t have cared less, as long as the door closed.”
“Which it usually didn’t,” she pointed out, and I conceded the point with a reluctant shrug.
“These ones will be in a completely different area though,” I pointed out. “I’m in the press hospitality area. It’s a lot quieter. Not so many… revellers.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she scrunched her nose. “Did you get one of the RVs? I saw Tommy fromHot Spotgot a whole one, just him and his photographer.”
I snorted. “They didn’t even assign me a photographer.”
I momentarily thought back to Patrick, who’d offered to come along with me, but as he was only a freelance photographer, they hadn’t considered the cost worth it when I had a phone. Ha. I’d do my best…
“So, no RV?” Becka frowned.
“No RV. Pretty big tent though.” I leaned back on my heels, looking around at my polyester-nylon domain for the weekend.
