her voice, she didn’t sound angry either, more disappointed and it made me feel bad for her, almost wishing the flowers had been for her instead of me.
The rest of the day felt like an eternity. I normally loved my work but the lack of sleep was taking its toll and time seemed to be slowing down, especially because of the guilt that followed from Christine looking at me as if I’d stolen her man or something. It wasn’t my fault that Dave had sent me flowers, yet that’s how it felt.
I couldn’t wait to get home, get straight into my pyjamas, make myself some dinner and then go to bed.
It was finally time to close up and leave. I took the flowers with me. I didn’t want them at work where Christine would see them and frown, as she’d been doing all day. The bus was packed, like it had been that morning, or maybe I was just noticing it more because I didn’t want to be in it. I looked around, feeling a little panicked every time I saw a guy with a hoody, thinking it could be the mugger I had encountered the night before. I half jogged from the bus stop to the flat, feeling uneasy.
When I got home I threw off my shoes and walked into the kitchen where Lisa was standing at the cooker making something that looked like pasta.
“Oh my god!” she yelped. “Flowers…Dave?” She looked at me smiling, then frowned seeing the look on my face.
“Are you OK? I’m guessing you’re pretty shaken up by what happened yesterday?”
“No, no.” I forced a smile her way. “I’m just really tired and my boss hated me for getting these so I’ve been dealing with her negative energy the last few hours. It doesn’t help with the added mugging from yesterday, but I’ll live.”