something that pleased her, but inwardly she still turned to jelly.
She walked up the street, waving at Mark over her shoulder in a suitably platonic way. All of a sudden her right foot turned sharply, the heel of her shoe slipping under her foot and her ankle twisting painfully. She stumbled and fell to her knees. This time there was no controlling the flush of red that burned her face with discomfort and humiliation, and while the pain was intense, it was the embarrassment that was almost unbearable. Her loss of dignity as the Jimmy Choos let her down felt like a betrayal. A very expensive betrayal, she thought poignantly. She sat there on the hard pavement almost in tears rubbing her very sore ankle, in the forlorn hope that no one had noticed. Quick, heavy footsteps told her that hope was indeed in vain. She prayed it wasn’t Mark, but of course it was.
“Are you ok? Stupid question, of course you’re not. Here, let me take a look at that.” Genuine concern creased his features but failed to reduce his breath-taking good looks she thought. “Here let me help you try to stand.”
He easily lifted her up from the ground, but she could hardly put any weight on her damaged right ankle. He put an arm around her back and under her shoulder, supporting as much of her weight as he could, not easy given how much taller than her he was.
“I don’t think I can walk far,” she cried out with utter frustration. She was going to ask him to help her back to work but then realized that she didn’t want her colleagues seeing her with this man. It would raise too many awkward and unnecessary questions that she wasn’t in the mood to answer. “Help me back to the café please, so I can sit down.”
“Better idea,” he said. “My place is literally just around the corner. I can put a cold compress on it there, to stop it from swelling further.”
She would have protested but the ankle was so painful that she would do almost anything to stop the pain. “Do you have any painkillers?” she asked.
“I have,” he smiled. “Come on, let’s take it slow.”
His place was, as he had promised, not very far at all. It was in the same direction as the pub where he worked but a little closer to the café. As they walked up the path to the large black front door a short, round man exited the building. She could feel Mark’s body stiffen beside her. “Hi, Tony.” There was no warmth in his greeting.
“Mark,” the man acknowledged. “Found a friend?” The question appeared to have undertones that China didn’t want to understand. His face was as round as his body and he didn’t appear to have any chin. His balding head was ringed with lank, greasy hair that was tied back into a stringy ponytail with a dirty looking elastic hair tie. He was sweating profusely and his lips were wet to the point of dribbling.
“This is China, Tony. She’s hurt her ankle so I’m just helping out.”
“I’m sure you are. I’ll leave you to it then, Mark. Enjoy.” And with that Tony waddled down the path and off up the road, glancing back over his shoulders occasionally, leering with unpleasant laughter.
“Well, now you’ve met the landlord,” he joked. But his eyes told her that he didn’t find the joke very funny. Awkwardly opening the door whilst still supporting China’s weight, he took her in and led her upstairs into a small but neat flat. The main room was compact and with minimal furniture or mess. She naturally expected a man’s flat to be in some disarray, but this looked almost unlived in. There were no magazines lying about, no dirty plates from the night before, no take-away cartons or boxes. Nothing predictable. No unpleasant, single-man-living-alone smells, just the faintest aroma of some spicy soap, suggestive with fresh woodland undertones.
He led her to a comfortable looking chair and sat her down. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
As he left the room China looked around for further elusive clues into
She walked up the street, waving at Mark over her shoulder in a suitably platonic way. All of a sudden her right foot turned sharply, the heel of her shoe slipping under her foot and her ankle twisting painfully. She stumbled and fell to her knees. This time there was no controlling the flush of red that burned her face with discomfort and humiliation, and while the pain was intense, it was the embarrassment that was almost unbearable. Her loss of dignity as the Jimmy Choos let her down felt like a betrayal. A very expensive betrayal, she thought poignantly. She sat there on the hard pavement almost in tears rubbing her very sore ankle, in the forlorn hope that no one had noticed. Quick, heavy footsteps told her that hope was indeed in vain. She prayed it wasn’t Mark, but of course it was.
“Are you ok? Stupid question, of course you’re not. Here, let me take a look at that.” Genuine concern creased his features but failed to reduce his breath-taking good looks she thought. “Here let me help you try to stand.”
He easily lifted her up from the ground, but she could hardly put any weight on her damaged right ankle. He put an arm around her back and under her shoulder, supporting as much of her weight as he could, not easy given how much taller than her he was.
“I don’t think I can walk far,” she cried out with utter frustration. She was going to ask him to help her back to work but then realized that she didn’t want her colleagues seeing her with this man. It would raise too many awkward and unnecessary questions that she wasn’t in the mood to answer. “Help me back to the café please, so I can sit down.”
“Better idea,” he said. “My place is literally just around the corner. I can put a cold compress on it there, to stop it from swelling further.”
She would have protested but the ankle was so painful that she would do almost anything to stop the pain. “Do you have any painkillers?” she asked.
“I have,” he smiled. “Come on, let’s take it slow.”
His place was, as he had promised, not very far at all. It was in the same direction as the pub where he worked but a little closer to the café. As they walked up the path to the large black front door a short, round man exited the building. She could feel Mark’s body stiffen beside her. “Hi, Tony.” There was no warmth in his greeting.
“Mark,” the man acknowledged. “Found a friend?” The question appeared to have undertones that China didn’t want to understand. His face was as round as his body and he didn’t appear to have any chin. His balding head was ringed with lank, greasy hair that was tied back into a stringy ponytail with a dirty looking elastic hair tie. He was sweating profusely and his lips were wet to the point of dribbling.
“This is China, Tony. She’s hurt her ankle so I’m just helping out.”
“I’m sure you are. I’ll leave you to it then, Mark. Enjoy.” And with that Tony waddled down the path and off up the road, glancing back over his shoulders occasionally, leering with unpleasant laughter.
“Well, now you’ve met the landlord,” he joked. But his eyes told her that he didn’t find the joke very funny. Awkwardly opening the door whilst still supporting China’s weight, he took her in and led her upstairs into a small but neat flat. The main room was compact and with minimal furniture or mess. She naturally expected a man’s flat to be in some disarray, but this looked almost unlived in. There were no magazines lying about, no dirty plates from the night before, no take-away cartons or boxes. Nothing predictable. No unpleasant, single-man-living-alone smells, just the faintest aroma of some spicy soap, suggestive with fresh woodland undertones.
He led her to a comfortable looking chair and sat her down. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
As he left the room China looked around for further elusive clues into
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