the wound.’
I feel myself deflate a little. ‘Why don’t you think we’re suited?’
She d oes the upwards eye thing again and I feel myself getting impatient. ‘He’s just so high maintenance. You know, a designer clothes and expensive restaurants type of guy. The sort who doesn’t like to ruin his manicure and you’re…well, you’re just you. Down to earth and easy going. You’re happy in jeans and a scruffy tee shirt, mucking around in the back of the shop.’
She smile s at me while I digest this new piece of information. She has a point. During our relationship, and especially when we lived together, it was always me changing fuses and hammering in nails to hang pictures. James always shied away from that kind of thing and spent a hell of a lot more time in the bathroom slapping on man moisturisers and plucking out nasal hairs. Come to think of it, I wasn’t really sure how we ever got together.
I considered this briefly and felt my stomach fl ipping over with nerves. Now I’m dreading tomorrow night, hopefully I can get it over and done with, with as little emotional damage as possible, then not see him again. I groan inwardly, and not for the first time since seeing James last week. How on earth do I get myself into these situations?
Chapter Six
Thursday roll s around all too quickly and I’m still feeling nervous about my date with James. I don’t know why I feel this way, I have spent quite a few years living with him, so he has seen me both at my best and of course my absolute worse. But, as I have to make the best of it, I have picked out a beautiful black silk sheath dress from the shop, that has tiny little glass beads sewn at the neckline. It fits me like a dream. I team this with some nude, strappy suede sandals. The heels are sky high so I am praying I can stay upright all night. I have had my hair trimmed and blow dried and it feels fabulous, all bouncy round my shoulders like in a shampoo advert. I have also had a manicure and a pedicure just to finish off the look.
You might ask why I am going to so much trouble for dinner with an ex? Well, the truth is, a tiny part of me wants him to see what he is missing. Plus the fact I looked like a human fur ball when I saw him in the pub the previous week, and I don’t want him to think that I have fallen apart since we split up. Yes I know, I did fall apart a little. Well, a lot actually, but I am only human. And I am fairly certain I am over him now. Oh God, so why is my stomach doing somersaults every time I think about the coming evening?
Muriel ha s left the shop for the evening and I take a quick look round to make sure everything is okay before I lock up for the night. The shop is looking a lot better since our clear out, and we’ve had a few extra customers through the door, so I’m quite happy with that. Muriel’s niece is coming to see me on Monday and I am getting really excited about seeing her designs. It feels as if we are making some progress, at last.
I grab my bags and the dress, which I ha ve carefully placed in a suit bag, and leave the shop via the back door. I’d had a word with Sandip earlier and let him know I was on a deadline, so I am pleased to notice his colossal van isn’t parked behind my car, and for once and I can get out of the car park without any incidents.
Ten minutes drive and I am back at the house. I let myself in the front door, put my bags on the floor while I hang the dress from the banister. I take a quick look in the rooms reserved for my lodger to check whether he has moved in yet but there is no sign of him. The rooms are still empty and I haven’t heard off him, which is a bit strange as he had been keen to move in, but maybe he had changed his mind about it after all. I haven’t really got time to dwell on it so I go off upstairs to transform myself into sexy siren.
By seven-thirty I am back downstairs,
I feel myself deflate a little. ‘Why don’t you think we’re suited?’
She d oes the upwards eye thing again and I feel myself getting impatient. ‘He’s just so high maintenance. You know, a designer clothes and expensive restaurants type of guy. The sort who doesn’t like to ruin his manicure and you’re…well, you’re just you. Down to earth and easy going. You’re happy in jeans and a scruffy tee shirt, mucking around in the back of the shop.’
She smile s at me while I digest this new piece of information. She has a point. During our relationship, and especially when we lived together, it was always me changing fuses and hammering in nails to hang pictures. James always shied away from that kind of thing and spent a hell of a lot more time in the bathroom slapping on man moisturisers and plucking out nasal hairs. Come to think of it, I wasn’t really sure how we ever got together.
I considered this briefly and felt my stomach fl ipping over with nerves. Now I’m dreading tomorrow night, hopefully I can get it over and done with, with as little emotional damage as possible, then not see him again. I groan inwardly, and not for the first time since seeing James last week. How on earth do I get myself into these situations?
Chapter Six
Thursday roll s around all too quickly and I’m still feeling nervous about my date with James. I don’t know why I feel this way, I have spent quite a few years living with him, so he has seen me both at my best and of course my absolute worse. But, as I have to make the best of it, I have picked out a beautiful black silk sheath dress from the shop, that has tiny little glass beads sewn at the neckline. It fits me like a dream. I team this with some nude, strappy suede sandals. The heels are sky high so I am praying I can stay upright all night. I have had my hair trimmed and blow dried and it feels fabulous, all bouncy round my shoulders like in a shampoo advert. I have also had a manicure and a pedicure just to finish off the look.
You might ask why I am going to so much trouble for dinner with an ex? Well, the truth is, a tiny part of me wants him to see what he is missing. Plus the fact I looked like a human fur ball when I saw him in the pub the previous week, and I don’t want him to think that I have fallen apart since we split up. Yes I know, I did fall apart a little. Well, a lot actually, but I am only human. And I am fairly certain I am over him now. Oh God, so why is my stomach doing somersaults every time I think about the coming evening?
Muriel ha s left the shop for the evening and I take a quick look round to make sure everything is okay before I lock up for the night. The shop is looking a lot better since our clear out, and we’ve had a few extra customers through the door, so I’m quite happy with that. Muriel’s niece is coming to see me on Monday and I am getting really excited about seeing her designs. It feels as if we are making some progress, at last.
I grab my bags and the dress, which I ha ve carefully placed in a suit bag, and leave the shop via the back door. I’d had a word with Sandip earlier and let him know I was on a deadline, so I am pleased to notice his colossal van isn’t parked behind my car, and for once and I can get out of the car park without any incidents.
Ten minutes drive and I am back at the house. I let myself in the front door, put my bags on the floor while I hang the dress from the banister. I take a quick look in the rooms reserved for my lodger to check whether he has moved in yet but there is no sign of him. The rooms are still empty and I haven’t heard off him, which is a bit strange as he had been keen to move in, but maybe he had changed his mind about it after all. I haven’t really got time to dwell on it so I go off upstairs to transform myself into sexy siren.
By seven-thirty I am back downstairs,
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