I have taken to running from my house to my car these days in order to avoid Greg. He asked me out the other day and I had to let him down which is never nice. I hate saying no but I just couldn’t let him think that I might be interested in him when I’m clearly not. He’s nice enough if just a little too eager/creepy. The next day I saw him going into his house with a girl so hopefully he’s found someone to take his mind off his love for me. (He told me he loved me when he asked me out - *shudders*.
Anyway – it was the usual at Mrs J’s this week. She asked me to make her some bread and we sat and had jam pieces with freshly baked brown bread. Divine. She has a new boyfriend. Alfred is 85 and lives a couple of doors down from her. They have regular garden “dates” where they sit in their gardens or watch the telly together. Midsummer Murders if I remember rightly. I’m beginning to worry that she has a more active romantic life than I do since I haven’t heard from Mike in over a week since the flowers. Sigh.
So FB came round again while I was there. As soon as I saw him drive up in his sporty little GT, I told Mrs J that I had to go. She asked me why and I told her that part of my volunteering was to make sure she had company and there was no point in being here when her family were here. I don’t think she believed me because she gave me a strange look and told me that Nick was just here to pick up something for his mum, Mrs J’s daughter. I know, because Mrs J has told me that her family are useless. She had one daughter that used to come in and help out with shopping etc but she's been really busy with work lately and hasn’t been able to help out as much. That was when they contacted the Age Concern who looked for volunteers to help out with her day to day stuff. Much better than going into a home, says Mrs J. Not that I can imagine someone with her joy for life being cooped up in a home but I know that sadly it’s sometimes the only option for people.
Anyway – I gathered up Fudge (who had been happily sitting on Mrs J’s knee!), gave my hasty goodbyes and hot footed it out the front door. Knowing Nick (curse him for having a name that I really like. I bet it stands for Nicholas or something that makes me want to swoon!) he would come gallivanting in the back door like he owned the place. Probably complaining about the fact the oven had been on for the bread or some such nonsense. I made it out to my beat up little mini (the old kind – love her!), put Fudge in the passenger seat and was coming back to my door when out the front door comes Nick in his fancy, probably designer, suit. It was the fact that he’d caught me running away that made me so angry. That and the fact that he looked so gorgeous, was wearing a suit and has a name that sounds like the name you would give a bad boy in a Mills and Boon novel. That fact pushed the fact that I really should be apologising to him after the cinema incident. Anyway – he came over to me and handed me the bag of baking stuff that I’d brought round to make bread with. It’s hard to be annoyed with someone who’s doing a good deed but it’s never easy for me to be nice to someone who pushes my buttons like this guy does. I took it and our hands touched and I swear to God I got those tingles up and down my arm that you only read about in those self same Mills and Boon books. It gave me a jolt and I could only stand there and stare at him. And his mouth, if I’m completely honest. He was doing the same but with a small, smug smile on his lips. Luckily it brought me back to reality and I managed to leave Mrs J’s drive with my dignity in tact and a cloud of dust covering the drive of the cute little house. Oh and her grandson in his nice suit. Oops.
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