She looked up to see she was already back in the depths of the village. Her musings meant she had walked back on autopilot, completely oblivious to all around her.
Her musings had, however, reinforced her resolve. She would not allow herself to be fazed by her new neighbour. It was obviously a test she had been given and one she was ready to pass. Looking up, she realized she was at the village shop – she’d nip in and buy herself some chocolate. Maybe a small bar after a late lunch would cheer her up a bit and help her get ready for tonight. Maybe that late lunch should be a Creme Egg?
As she headed back towards her cottage, three large (large) bars of Galaxy and some chocolate eggs rammed in her handbag making the climb up the hill a bit more tricky, she caught a glimpse of Perfect Hair giggling as she slapped Matt on the arm whilst they were walking to his car. Glued to the pavement, she watched as he took a swipe back at her hair – brave man – with those beautifully shaped arms and then dart out of the way. It was an intimate gesture and Rosy could feel her eyes narrow before she forced them back to their normal shape as quick as she could. Life wasn’t fair sometimes, but she could do this, she could live next door to the most beautifully perfect physical specimen she had ever seen and try not to care. More importantly, she was going to find that sort of intimacy for herself, that closeness; fear was no longer going to hold her back. She grinned a wide easy grin.Simon, hang on to your hat, tonight is going to blow your mind!
Chapter Four
Rosy took a slug of wine as she looked across the table at her date. As much as she wanted to find The One this evening, she had a feeling there was no way Simon was going to be it. Although he was certainly going to be memorable, just not in the way she had wanted.
She smiled as he shuffled the wad of cue cards that he had brought with him. Her ‘looking for the treasure’ policy was proving harder than she had anticipated. He was a good ten years older and hundred pounds (OK, maybe not, but she was willing to bet it wasn’t far off) heavier than his photo had indicated and her depths were clearly more shallow than she had thought.
‘So, Rosy, top five films in ascending order?’
‘Um… I don’t get to the cinema much. I heard the newStar Warswas good.’
He curled his lip and arched an eyebrow. ‘Right, so you don’t know about films then, hmm?’
‘Well, it’s just that—’
‘Yep, never mind, I can overlook that, you are, after all…’ He didn’t even disguise the look he shot straight at her chest. Her arms immediately crossed themselves in protection, warding him off. If only she could do something about the waves of body odour emanating off him with such potency. Rosy was amazed they weren’t visible.
‘Right, another chance then. What’s your favourite breed of dog? Quick, quick. No thinking about it. You must know. You’re quite slow, aren’t you? I thought you said you were a teacher!’ All this was shot at her at speed, followed by a bout of burping indicative of some kind of chronic digestive disorder.
‘Funny you should ask, I met this adorable little one this morning. All tangly and bumbly. So cute. He made me think about getting one of my own.’
‘Yes, but what breed?’ He spoke very slowly this time, in contrast to the staccato sentences of earlier.
She could do this, she could be nice, sit here with him for an hour before making her excuses and leaving. Preserving his dignity and keeping her good karma intact.
‘Well, I didn’t ask, I’m not sure but he—’
‘So, you don’t know about dogs either.’
Maybe half an hour instead. With only an inch of wine left in her glass, she couldn’t even blot out the reality of the date with any more alcohol if she wanted to drive home – and she certainly wouldn’t be staying. She excused herself to the loo and wondered how long before he sent a waitress in looking for her. Thank God she had agreed to drinks and not a meal. Maybe half an hour was generous; maybe she’d be kinder by making it clear he didn’t stand a chance. Decision made, she strolled out to the bucket chairs they were in, sat down and took her last gulp of wine whilst formulating her excuses.
Suddenly everything moved really fast and a heavy human-shaped form had landed on her lap and oh-my-God! Something wet, slug-like, was on her cheek. Was he licking her? Someone screamed and then a fluster, a flurry of arms and legs were all around her. She felt an elbow – she assumed it was an elbow – whack her in the face and she could feel numbness swell in her tongue as the jolt had caused her to bite down. At least the screaming had stopped.
She could breathe again. The tumult calmed and she could feel air around her again. In and out. In and out. This breathing thing was becoming a pattern! Someone kneeling pressed a glass of water into her hand, and as she turned to thank them she could see the two bouncers hurling her date out.
‘Did he… did he… lick me?’
‘Um… it did look like he might have.’ The young girl by her side scrunched up her face. ‘He was kinda going full toad. I’ve never seen that happen before. Let me grab you some wet wipes.’
No amount of wiping was going to make Rosy’s cheek feel saliva-free again, but she was still going to scrub until it was a good red colour. And then a bit more. Rosy and the girl watched as Simon loped off down the road in the opposite direction to Rosy’s car, seemingly oblivious to the trauma he had caused. She waited another five minutes, still scrubbing, until deeming it safe, before heading back to her car and home.
But instead of happy thoughts of her sofa and a large tub of praline ice cream, a picture of Perfect Hair canoodling with her neighbour popped into her head. That was a sight she could live without seeing tonight, although she should probably brace herself for millions of sick-inducing glimpses of the pair of them in the future. Probably just at times like these where she was feeling as if she would never have any luck romantically.
Sitting in the car, she took her phone out and sent a text to Lynne, who, fully aware of Rosy’s crazy date-every-Saturday-night habit immediately rang back and demanded she stop in on her way home for a debrief. Perfect.
Plus, Lynne would bang on about the perils of online dating, which would mean Rosy, who knew this particular script off by heart, could enjoy her friend’s company whilst not listening at the same time.
It wasn’t that she was a disloyal friend or didn’t respect the wisdom Lynne divulged. It was just knowing what she was going to say meant she knew she fundamentally disagreed with her. Could not be more clear on how much she disagreed with her.
Lynne was of the view that Rosy was a beautiful woman who would meet her Mr Right when she was meant to. Rosy was of the view that one went out looking for opportunities rather than just sitting back and waiting for them to turn up.
Lynne believed that only sociopaths and lunatics signed up for online dating sites. Rosy thought that this may or may not be testament to the fact that she herself was using them. Well, one of them. She accepted this may have once been the case but now it was the normal place busy young professionals went to find love rather than a hunting ground for Norman Bates types. Plus, surely she had met every sociopath or social inept Devon had to offer now? She had to hit the jackpot soon!
And that was another thing Lynne was very vocal about – she did not understand Rosy’s policy on dating outside Cornwall. Rosy knew she was at fault for not explaining the full reasons for it, but was aware that a throwaway explanatory comment about a rough experience whilst at university was not just trite but insufficient and would eventually lead to the full story being coerced from her. This in turn would result in an open-mouthed reaction, inevitably followed by hand-stroking and banal nonsense about how it couldn’t be that bad, the past was the past, blah, blah, blah – none of which she could stand, and all of which made her want to scream. However, trying to explain that she was just a very private person never seemed to work, and certainly not with Lynne.
