What the hell am I staring at his five o’clock shadow for? I immediately snap out of it. ‘Earth to Olive?’ I sniff. ‘Who even says “earth to” anymore? What is this?Saved byTheBell?’
Seth snorts with mirth. ‘You’re mean! You look very sweet with those eyes and those rosy cheeks.’ He waves his hand dismissively in the direction of my face. ‘But youaremean.’
‘Actually I’m not mean!’ I protest. ‘I am the opposite of mean. I have no problems with anyone. Except for my sister-in-law Donna who is a true dick, but other than that everyone likes me. Even Mr Rishi on the market – who hates everyone – loves me. YOU,’ I say, poking a finger onto his wet shirt. ‘YOUaremean.’
‘It was all in good fun!’ Seth says with a shrug. ‘Youwerea little crazy on thatflight.’
‘I wasfreakingout!’
‘You let me believe you wanted us to…’ he trails off, pushing his glasses up his nose and raising a suggestiveeyebrow.Ugh!
‘That was your filthy mind. I was just hoping you would accompany me down the airplane aisle. It was so shaky. I didn’t want to fall! I was scared, and you used it against me.OnTV!’
Seth stares at me for a moment. I think he’s going to apologise but instead he says, ‘It’s my job. I was just doingmyjob.’
‘It’s yourjob?’ I repeat, raising my voice so that he can hear me over the thud of the rainfall on the top of my umbrella. Is he for real? ‘So it doesn’t matter who you hurt, or humiliate in front of an entire country, if it’s your job? That’s what… assassins say.I was just doing my job. My job of murder!Doesn’t make itokay,dude!’
He glances from side to side as if looking for an escape. ‘Look,dude,I don’t know what I can do beyond say,mybad!’
‘Mybad?’
He pulls his phone out of his shirt pocket and looks at it. ‘And I wasn’t lying when I said I was on my way somewhere. I have to go. I really am late forsomething.’
Ugh. What an absolute turd this man is. ‘You are a lying turd,’Isay.
Amusement sparks in his eyes. ‘A lying turd? Nice phrase. Maybe I’ll use that in nextweek’sshow.’
I’m so angry that my mouth opens and closes. Howdarehe?
‘Seriously, Olive Maudine Brewster. I’m being truthful. I was due at the Riverside Theatre fiveminutesago.’
‘Oh the theatre!’ I repeat in a fancy voice. ‘How lovely for you! Well don’t let my humiliation keep you from thetheatre.’
He looks at me and shakes his head inastonishment.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so mad at a person in my entire life. How can he not see that what he did to me was completely wrong! He’s acting like I’m the nutcase when he is obviously some sort ofsociopath.
‘Jeez,’ I sigh, clearly getting nowhere. I pull Mrs Ramirez’s postcards out of my bumbag and push them angrily into the mailbox. Then I shoo him away with my hand. ‘Go. Go to wherever you’re going. You’re not the only one with things to do and placestobe.’
He holds his hands up innocently. ‘I’m sorry if you’re upset,’ he says, which is the flimsiest apology on earth. ‘It was all just a bitoffun.’
I stare after him as he turns around and darts off back down the street, holding his arm out for a cab as hedoesso.
I realise that my heart is pounding in my chest. I shake my head in disbelief. Shouting and pointing in the middle of the street in a beret. That’s just not me! I am a woman who complains via a well thought out email, or the contact form on a retailer’s website. But that idiot? I don’t think anyone has ever infuriated mesomuch.
I watch through narrowed eyes as he gets into a cab andzoomsoff.
I go to zip up the bumbag dangling frommyhand.
Something is amiss. I frown and peer down into the bag. My phone, Rescue Remedy, earphones, painkillers and hand sanitiser are allthere…
No.
Ohno.
Nooooooo.
My stomach lurches as the familiar and comforting sight of Birdie’s letter to Chuck is no longer there where it has been safely nestled for the pastthreedays.
