replied, and let him out of the front door. Once he had gone, I closed it again, lingering to watch him disappear around the corner towards where his car was parked. I sighed like a schoolgirl, turned around blissfully -
...and came face-to-face with a horrifying vision.
* * *
It was only Mrs Windsor, of course, but the disapproving look on her wrinkled, wizened old face would give anyone nightmares. She was still dressed in her dressing gown and ghastly flannel slippers, and frowned fiercely at me.
'I saw you,' she announced. 'I saw you!'
'I'm sorry?' I faltered, feigning confusion.
She pointed a bony finger at me accusingly. 'You had a young man in your flat! Don't deny it! I saw you coming down the stairs with him just now! And you know what I have to say about bringing young men home!'
I closed my eyes, begging for patience. 'Mrs Windsor, please -'
'Be thankful I didn't hear anything this time!' she interrupted me, in full rant. 'If I get woken up in the middle of the night then I'm writing a letter of complaint , and you will be thrown out of here!'
My face burned at the thought of what Mrs Windsor presumed my relationship with Connor was.
'Mrs Windsor, I assure you he was only a friend -'
'Go away, now, I'm too tired to listen to your excuses,' Mrs Windsor grumbled crabbily, turning her back on me and shuffling off to the open door of her flat. 'And be warned!'
As soon as the old hag's door had clicked shut, I impulsively stuck out my tongue and put up two fingers. Bring it on ! I thought, stealing Connor's line as I marched back up the stairs.
* * *
At around nine o'clock, I was sitting comfortably on the sofa in front of the TV, after having told Julie all about my half-good, half-bad day. She had told me that it was only natural Connor would have friends like Jess - he was, after all, a very good-looking man who held a lot of influence. I sat quietly flicking through channels, hardly able to believe that Connor had really been here.
As Christmas was drawing steadily nearer, there were a lot of funny end-of-year programmes on. I finally settled on watching " Hundred Best TV Outtakes of the Year ", which I had watched last year and nearly pulled a stomach muscle from laughing so much.
'... and now the outtakes of Channel Three that you all love ,' the presenter announced. I smiled to myself on the sofa, waiting to be amused.
The first few outtakes were of newsreaders getting the giggles, presenters tripping over on set, and then TV talk shows that experienced various humorous technical problems. There was a brief sequence of exploding lights on sets, cameras being knocked over, and erstwhile newsreaders picking their noses. Then, there came an extract from the popular new show Celebrities in the Kitchen , which I had seen once or twice on rainy afternoons. The presenter, a middle-aged female cook who prepared meals with various show business personalities, was preparing a cake judging by the bowls of icing and glacé cherries around her.
' And we stir the mixture well - ' she was saying, then was interrupted by laughter from the assistant and two guests. The camera switched to what they were laughing at, and to my surprise, there was Connor himself, standing there with a white icing moustache and a blob of the mixture upon his nose.
' Mmm ,' he commented, eyes sparkling in the stagelights, the lines parenthesizing his mouth growing deeper.
' Connor seems to be enjoying himself ,' the presenter chuckled. ' Chef's privilege! '
' Mmmm ,' affirmed Connor, looking slowly up at the camera, still with the icing upon his upper lip from where he had been sampling it.
The whole crew by now were seized by a fit of the giggles, especially when Connor reached out with exaggerated sneakiness and quickly popped a glacé cherry into his mouth.
' MMMmmm ,' he said even louder, eyebrows raised and blue eyes glimmering under the
...and came face-to-face with a horrifying vision.
* * *
It was only Mrs Windsor, of course, but the disapproving look on her wrinkled, wizened old face would give anyone nightmares. She was still dressed in her dressing gown and ghastly flannel slippers, and frowned fiercely at me.
'I saw you,' she announced. 'I saw you!'
'I'm sorry?' I faltered, feigning confusion.
She pointed a bony finger at me accusingly. 'You had a young man in your flat! Don't deny it! I saw you coming down the stairs with him just now! And you know what I have to say about bringing young men home!'
I closed my eyes, begging for patience. 'Mrs Windsor, please -'
'Be thankful I didn't hear anything this time!' she interrupted me, in full rant. 'If I get woken up in the middle of the night then I'm writing a letter of complaint , and you will be thrown out of here!'
My face burned at the thought of what Mrs Windsor presumed my relationship with Connor was.
'Mrs Windsor, I assure you he was only a friend -'
'Go away, now, I'm too tired to listen to your excuses,' Mrs Windsor grumbled crabbily, turning her back on me and shuffling off to the open door of her flat. 'And be warned!'
As soon as the old hag's door had clicked shut, I impulsively stuck out my tongue and put up two fingers. Bring it on ! I thought, stealing Connor's line as I marched back up the stairs.
* * *
At around nine o'clock, I was sitting comfortably on the sofa in front of the TV, after having told Julie all about my half-good, half-bad day. She had told me that it was only natural Connor would have friends like Jess - he was, after all, a very good-looking man who held a lot of influence. I sat quietly flicking through channels, hardly able to believe that Connor had really been here.
As Christmas was drawing steadily nearer, there were a lot of funny end-of-year programmes on. I finally settled on watching " Hundred Best TV Outtakes of the Year ", which I had watched last year and nearly pulled a stomach muscle from laughing so much.
'... and now the outtakes of Channel Three that you all love ,' the presenter announced. I smiled to myself on the sofa, waiting to be amused.
The first few outtakes were of newsreaders getting the giggles, presenters tripping over on set, and then TV talk shows that experienced various humorous technical problems. There was a brief sequence of exploding lights on sets, cameras being knocked over, and erstwhile newsreaders picking their noses. Then, there came an extract from the popular new show Celebrities in the Kitchen , which I had seen once or twice on rainy afternoons. The presenter, a middle-aged female cook who prepared meals with various show business personalities, was preparing a cake judging by the bowls of icing and glacé cherries around her.
' And we stir the mixture well - ' she was saying, then was interrupted by laughter from the assistant and two guests. The camera switched to what they were laughing at, and to my surprise, there was Connor himself, standing there with a white icing moustache and a blob of the mixture upon his nose.
' Mmm ,' he commented, eyes sparkling in the stagelights, the lines parenthesizing his mouth growing deeper.
' Connor seems to be enjoying himself ,' the presenter chuckled. ' Chef's privilege! '
' Mmmm ,' affirmed Connor, looking slowly up at the camera, still with the icing upon his upper lip from where he had been sampling it.
The whole crew by now were seized by a fit of the giggles, especially when Connor reached out with exaggerated sneakiness and quickly popped a glacé cherry into his mouth.
' MMMmmm ,' he said even louder, eyebrows raised and blue eyes glimmering under the
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